Edgar Michael Causey III has his character information posted on the seventh page of The Character Generation Thread, and is beginning his adventures here.
Edgar, Brock got a new gadget he wanted you to try. It connects your Gameboy to various games in a way that's supposed to make them run faster; it has a label on it that says "Scriff Inside" in a fancy logo. It does seem to make a difference in the loading speed at level changes and such. But you drop it, and when you pick it up you take a nasty shock and black out.
You are now awakening. You hear slowly pulsing white noise with occasional burst of a mid- to high-range squealing, feel heat both above and below you and find yourself lying supine on a scratching level surface that to some degree seems to have formed itself to your body in a brightly lit location that discourages you from opening your eyes too quickly. It is definitely not your game room.
--M. J. Young
I try to look around carfuly to see where i am and try to figer out what happend to me.
You are on a beach.
A black beach, but a beach. Blue water surges smoothly in large cresting waves, but it's a good thirty yards away from you at its present high point.
Your possessions, which you listed (apart from what you are wearing) are scattered on the ground around you, very much as if someone pulled the floors out of your home and dropped those things straight down, but that nothing appears to have impacted the sand very hard.
The sand is hot; the sun is shining brightly on it.
The ground rises away from the water into some vegetation--trees, grasses, ferns, an airy wood of some sort.
If there is anything on your equipment list that is not "home" with you, please let me know what it is and where it is relative to "home".
--M. J. Young
I start to gather my stuff whill looking carfully to make sure nothing happens.
Unless something happens when im gathering my stuff when im done i look around to see if there is a building near by.
You see no buildings. You do, however, have this odd feeling you were supposed to meet someone--the sort of feeling that points you in the direction you were supposed to go, and that direction seems to be to your left and slightly inland when you have your back to the water.
--M. J. Young
I start to go the way I feel I have to go ready for anything to happin.
Are you climbing the slope to take a straight route into the woods, or sticking to the shoreline for now?
--M. J. Young
Sticking to the shoreline for now while being ready for anything.
You move along the shoreline, which curves slightly in the direction of inland so that although the angle of the vector of the feeling is getting a bit sharper you are still moving more toward it.
After perhaps half an hour, the curve has been such that the sense points almost straight ahead. There you see an unusual rock formation, a sort of jetty or wall blocking the beach, about thirty feet high at the point where the ocean reaches it, feeding into the slope of the land at the inland end. It is about two hundred yards ahead.
Atop this outcropping, whose top must be fairly level and reasonably wide given what you can see from here, there is a vehicle parked, some sort of equipment extending from it which is not that easily identified from this distance; between the vehicle and the land smoke rises from what might be a fire, and a man sits with his back to the land. His left arm, towards you, gleams in the sunlight, as if clad in metallic armor of some sort, but the rest of him is in military green camouflage, and he is sporting several weapons in various holders.
You can smell some sort of grilled or roasted fowl, possibly chicken or turkey, but too faintly to make out from here.
Also in view, up the slope to the right above the rock outcropping and nearer to this beach, smoke or steam rises from the ground, but there is no indication of fire there.
--M. J. Young
I head to the person carfully and watching carfully to make sure nothing happens that would be dangerous to my health.
To reach the person, you will have to move up the slope and approach along the top of the rock.
When you get about forty-five feet from him, suddenly the metallic left arm jerks to an awkward position that points what might be a weapon directly at you. The man's head then slowly turns to face you, and he lowers the arm, and waves toward a second log next to his fire.
"Do you speak English?" he asks, and then more to himself, "or are we going to have to play the find-a-common-language game."
--M. J. Young
I say "yes I speak English" Then I start to head to the log to sit down but i do it carffuly. I then ask "where am I?"
"The sunset end of a volcanic tropical island somewhere near but not on the equator, by my best guess. Planetary rotation seems stable, moon is very similar to Luna, there's no sign of land-based animals above a few insects, and no other land in sight, but there are birds, and while they're not tasty they're easy to shoot and safe to eat. What some?"
He indicates what appears to be a cleaned and dressed seagull roasting on a metal spit over the open campfire.
At this point, you can see that the larger objects mounted on the vehicle, which looks like a jeep but has the brand name Isuzu, are a pair of large machine guns. There is also a small mushroom-shaped object protruding from the center with the label "Mr. Fusion".
"Di Vars. Michael will do. You?"
--M. J. Young
"My names Edgar and i'll try some of the bird thanks." "WAIT! What no land-based animals what happend to them were are they what happend to them?"
Michael shrugs.
"Probably they simply never reached this island--like no snakes in Hawaii. You've heard of Hawaii, right? Maybe they never evolved on this planet."
The bird is greasy and tough and a bit gamey, but it is protein and has that fire-roasted flavor of outdoor cooking.
--M. J. Young
"Wait this planet what do you mean?"
"What happend to me?"
"Since you're infected with scriff and you weren't on this island twelve hours ago, and there doesn't seem to be anywhere else you could have come from, I'd say that you versed out of wherever you were and landed here.
"That doesn't mean anything to you, does it? First time?"
--M. J. Young
"Versed out? First time? Since I never heard of it then yes It would be my first time would you mind telling me about it the short version? Please."
"Versed out? First time? Since I never heard of it then yes It would be my first time would you mind telling me about it the short version? Please."
"Short version? You got scriff in you. You were killed. Scriff took you through the scriff between the universes and put you back together alive in another one. You won't age, and whenever you die you will come back to life in another universe. All universes you can imagine and many more that you can't exist out there, and they all have their own rules. Some of your stuff will follow you, and sometimes you might have people traveling with you. Any questions?"
--M. J. Young
"Just one do you anything on this planet like information about it?"
OK...You may want to clarify that one, Edgar.
"I ment do you have any information on this planet like the rules or if there are any creaturs that can talk on this planet that are native here?"
"Well," he says, "I was able to start a fire with a laser pistol, my guns work well enough to bring down gulls, and I drove my jeep around the island, which means the fusion generator and Edisonian engine work. I was unable to scry anything, either with the magic bowl I developed in Narnia or with the psionic trick I learned from the scientist. If the birds or the trees or the fish talk, they haven't spoken to me, and in the week I've been here there have been no ships or boats or planes, and nothing in the sky that looks like it's in orbit other than the moon. The food is all safe to eat, and remarkably earth-like. The weather has been good, since even when it rains it's warm.
"Does that answer your question?"
--M. J. Young
"Yes thank you.Do you have any idea what i should do for now on this planet?"
Michael's eyebrows scrunch low over his eyes. "Do I look like your mother? Decide where you're going to stay, and decide what you're going to do. I said you won't die. That doesn't mean you won't get hungry or tired. Plan accordingly."
--M. J. Young
"Ok do you know what time of day it is on this planet?" and if he dose know I ask "How do you tell time here?"
"I'd say it's mid to late afternoon, judging from the sun, and for what it's worth we've had about fourteen or fifteen hours of useful daylight including dawn and dusk, another nine or ten of nighttime, and a moon that goes through phases, although I've only been here a few days so I can't swear there's not another moon or something.
"Some verser carry fancy computerized clocks that can be set for any day length and different time systems, but I can't be bothered with that. To me, it's sufficient to know whether it's day or night, early or late."
--M. J. Young
"Ok thanks,Do you know if there is a place to stay?"
He just stares at you for a moment.
"A place to stay?" he asks.
"Do you mean, like, a hotel or something? There's just what you see--trees, grass, rocks, sand, and water. What were you expecting?"
--M. J. Young
"Oh sorry then do you know if there is a cave nerby if it rains?" "Cause im a person that dose not like to get wet that much."
"Well, I've got good news and bad news on that count," he says. "There is indeed a cave, right over there--where that steam is rising? Our fresh water supply comes down the mountain and then pours into a pool, and part of it washes down into the cave behind it, which looks like it must eventually hit the hot rocks deep in the mountain, come back out as steam, and then some of it rise into the air, some of it fall back into the pool at the mouth of the cave heating it, and some of it spill behind the pool to give us that last bit of stream that makes it to the ocean.
"There are probably other vents in the mountain, and I dare say most of them are probably dry; but they will be a bit warmer than you want, I would think.
"You could try building a shelter. Plenty of trees around.
"Did I offer you some of this gull? It's not good, but it's food."
--M. J. Young
"yea you offerd some of the gull already, and im not so good with makeing shelters they always tend to fall on me." "If i could ask would you mind helping me make it?" "I would be willing to help you some how."
He stares at you a moment, then scans the island.
"Don't push it, kid."
--M. J. Young
"Ok,then unless ther's anything else I be on my way."
Michael nods. "Knock yourself out," he says, and returns to his cooking.
So, assuming you actually are "on your way", which way is that?
--M. J. Young
Off the beach and into the trees.
The ground slopes generally upward. At the heights there is a rising plume of cloud or steam, but it is obscured largely by the trees.
The trees are tropical--palms and such, including dates, bananas, coconuts, citrus fruits. Pineapples also grow here, amidst ferns and grasses and bamboo-like trees. There is little in the way of hardwoods.
There are the sounds of birds, and some flying insects buzzing at flowers, but no land animals. There are also no paths through the woods, but it's open enough that you can see where the jeep drove through by the wheel tracks.
--M. J. Young
I follow the tire tracks but first i will get some of the fruits from the trees then head out.
You gather some fruit, and follow the tracks.
They make their way down to the beach on the opposite side of the rock outcropping from which you approached. In spots they have been obliterated by either wind or water moving the sand, but there is enough of them to follow along the shoreline.
You can see that the terrain varies a bit--sometimes there are patches of exposed rock, which is sometimes rough and sometimes smooth but always dark. There are open areas of grass and groves of trees.
The ground slopes up from the beach, obviously, but does so more or less steeply as it moves inland. The center of the island is a small mountain, from what you can tell. Again, there is cloud cover near the top.
How far do you intend to follow them, or what might change your mind?
--M. J. Young