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We’ll be walking around doing a lot of stuff so i won’t have too much time to look at anything online
Gerald handled that. You don’t question Gerald. (if you know you know)
nahh I like it!
Oh, that’s good. Thanks!
btw it’ll take a while for me to reply cause i’m currently on a road trip for my dad’s birthday.
Okay, thanks for letting me know. Have fun and happy birthday to your dad!
“He sure is a frog-walker, he heaves a big sigh
He only lacks wings for to be on the fly.”Huntress
“What’s…..What’s going on?” Azalea asked.
I had the same question.
Someone was watching us. Both of us, and the others too.
It was strange–these pictures, in full color and full resolution, like they were real. Even Emmerich and Rosalind’s, despite the fact that their world probably didn’t have any cameras yet.
Every. Single. Day. All of our lives, pretty much, but random stretches of time–a playground game from when Scout and i were seven here, a brawl we got into when we were sixteen there, a random time I snuck into Teufort and borrowed a book from the library at night over here.
I quickly averted my eyes from the image of Sniper lying on the floor of a starship, almost dead, bleeding out, his clothes still dripping wet from our time in the flooded lab. Medic’s silhouette was barely noticeable nearby. The image next to it was not much better–me, tied to a chair, the Old Hunter with his back to the camera and his long tail clearly visible as he questioned me. I instead peered at the little pieces of paper next to a picture of us facing down the Administrator in her final hour.
The writing on some of the pictures was scribbled, like a child’s writing, or Soldier’s….but the concepts and such were far too complicated to be an actual kid. Old Hunter’s name and class title, as well as the Admin’s, were written but scratched out. Medic’s names were outlined in red but not slashed. My names, Sniper’s names, and the names of everyone we’d met thus far were written in plain old pen.
“Someone’s keeping tabs on us.” I mused out loud. “But what do they want?”
Azalea pulled down an image. “Is this you?”
I took it from her. This picture was effectively identical to the wedding photo Sniper had framed on the wall of his old camper-ship, both of us standing together with the background of the Australis desert and the rings in the sky.
“Yeah.” I said. “Yeah, that was just last year.”
Closer inspecting made me realize there was something written in the margins, but the messy handwriting combined with the small size made it extremely hard to read.
Then I had an idea. “See if you can find one of yourself and Trevor together. Maybe the most recent one you can remember. Or try finding Emmerich and Rosalind. Check if it’s got words on it.”
Gerald handled that. You don’t question Gerald. (if you know you know)
You’ve returned!
Azalea
Huntress studied the pictures of her and Sniper on the walls. Azalea did the same of her own, and they all seemed to depict various moments in her entire life. They ranged from significant events such as when she first met Trevor and Rachel, to completely random ones, like one that showed her and Austin sitting at a cafe.
“Someone’s keeping tabs on us.” Huntress said. “But what do they want?”
Azalea pulled down an image. “Is this you?”
“Yeah.” Huntress said. “Yeah, that was just last year.”
Huntress inspected the image closer, then looked at Azalea. “See if you can find one of yourself and Trevor together. Maybe the most recent one you can remember. Or try finding Emmerich and Rosalind. Check if it’s got words on it.”
“Alright.” Azalea scanned the images, and spotted one of her and Trevor repairing a broken car together. She showed it to Huntress, “This one was from a few months ago. There’s writing on it, too.”
“What about Emmerich and Rosalind?”
A quick search ensued, and Azalea found a photo of both in a garden. “This one looks like it could be more recent, but it’s hard to tell with the dates…” She gave up trying to read it and handed it to Huntress. “Do you think the same thing that took Rosalind is the thing behind all of this?”
“He sure is a frog-walker, he heaves a big sigh
He only lacks wings for to be on the fly.”@theshadow should be able to write somethin’ today or tomorrow, hopefully.
Gerald handled that. You don’t question Gerald. (if you know you know)
Okay!
“He sure is a frog-walker, he heaves a big sigh
He only lacks wings for to be on the fly.”Huntress
“This one was from a few months ago. There’s writing on it, too.” Azalea handed me a picture of her and Trevor working on a car–an ordinary one, not one that could convert to a starship. She also found an image of Emmerich and Rosalind standing together in a garden, but gave up trying to read the date after a minute or two.
“Do you think the same thing that took Rosalind is the thing behind all of this?” she asked.
“I don’t know. That thing seemed more like an animal. All this is the work of a thinking creature.” I said. “If they’re connected at all, I’d say the creature that took her was the pet of whoever this is.”
I folded up the pictures with writing on them and stuck them into my pocket. They’d be useful later more than likely.
Gerald handled that. You don’t question Gerald. (if you know you know)
Azalea
“I don’t know. That thing seemed more like an animal. All this is the work of a thinking creature.” Huntress said. “If they’re connected at all, I’d say the creature that took her was the pet of whoever this is.”
Azalea nodded, “Unless it’s putting on an act, but you’re probably right.” She glanced round again, then faced the way that they had come. “I wonder…” Azalea went out of the room and felt along the wall. Her fingers brushed a hard, round object. She pressed it, and a patch of the wall opened up, leading to another tunnel. “Here we go.”
Huntress and Azalea started on the tunnel’s path.
“He sure is a frog-walker, he heaves a big sigh
He only lacks wings for to be on the fly.”Huntress
Azalea pressed down on a part of the wall, and it slid open, revealing another tunnel. This one sloped downward, lit by dim sconces like the one we’d first gone through.
“Here we go,” she said as we started down this pathway.
It was a lot longer than I’d assumed. Maybe it was like one of those freaky sci-fi stories with places that looped back in on themselves with impossible geometry. Or like an Alice in Wonderland-type thing.
Eventually we found another series of doors, lined up like hotel rooms. Or prison cells.
Azalea tentatively opened one and gasped upon seeing whatever was inside. She backed away slightly. I looked in to see what she’d found.
There it was–the white creature that’d taken Rosalind, or at least a member of the same species. However, it didn’t attempt to attack us, merely sitting and staring down at us, instead like it had something to say but couldn’t say it.
Weird. I’d thought it was completely an animal–but it had the spark of intelligence in its gaze here.
There was someone human-sized standing near it. Unfortunately, they didn’t look like any of our group.
Gerald handled that. You don’t question Gerald. (if you know you know)
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