Günþer Raphis

Günþer Raphis

(OOC) 4 hours ago

@apisApophis[AA]

> the heat > the sun > it's all so terribly bright. > You don't even remember how you got here. Suddenly, this game started, without your notice. Without your ability to recall how it came here. It was all lost. Lost, the moment that damn sun started frying your skin. > The Land of Sand and Choices. > You find that an ironic choice of name for this place. After all, there's no choice here for someone. No clear choice, at least. Nothing do to but pace the wasteland in search of something. Anything. But you can't do that normally. > Walking out into the sun is painful. It would be painful for anyone, and your only hope of finding shade in this damn desert is to lift the sand above you into a dome. Exhausting mental activity, paired with exhausting physical activity, and no visible sign of progress anywhere. You don't even have a terminal to contact anyone else with. > So you perform the only sensible course of action, which is, travelling at night. The cool air and dim lighting are perfectly suited for your physiology, and you won't exhaust yourself forcing tolerance of the sun with full encasement. > The problem is, everything else around you is operating at the same schedule, and they are much, much more used to this desert than you are. > That's not a problem for you. You seem to have your Scythespecibus with you, with a single bladed chakram to keep you company. That's all you need to fight the oversized insectoids that pollute this land like a spreading plague. > One blade is all you need. But you wonder how long that will last. How many hardened carapaces it could slice through before the blade becomes dull. Before he has to put more brainpower behind every swing. Before it no longer becomes worth it to fight off these bugs anymore. > If you want to exist out here, you need to make a choice: Fight, or die. > Not every many choices. > But surviving is what you're good at. Sand, rocks, needles from some strange green plant. It did not matter. At a high enough velocity, anything is deadly. Even other pieces of your enemies. You learned that one out in the nick of time. > This isn't just a blanket of sand either. Tunnels, of what was once a rich and plentiful place. Luckily, it seems that's only half true. There's still ore to be found in this place, and with ore, you can make what you need. In this cave, you can wait out the sun all you like, and the mountain of what you can only assume to be oversized paraponera clavata will serve as food and fuel. . . . > All until you finally scrounge together the most primitive machine allowed with what raw power you have at your disposal. It's no thought-to-text, but it'll have to do for now. > Time to see what everyone is talking about. > Some weird alternate universe personality trait romanticism centered around the Greek Alphabet. > You crashout, and throw your first attempt at contacting the outside world against the wall. > Maybe it's best to try again another day.