T̷h̷e̸ ̵G̶a̴m̸e̵ - A VR Role-play

[Amer]

Heather walked up the beach on the water hardened sand, leaving little puddle footprints behind her. She'd taken her shoes off and had them dangling by their shoelaces in her left hand, bumping against her thigh with each step.

Her gaze was drawn out to the imperceptible horizon. Somewhere out there the blue of the water and the blue of the sky merged into one. But the line of separation was imperceptible to her eyes.

This place was so completely new and different from what she knew. How exactly she was supposed to survive here she didn't know. All she could hope was that she would either find someone else out here, or that she'd find civilization.

She took a deep breath of the heavy salty air closing her eyes as she sighed. Thinking back to the last time she'd visited her mom. Things really weren't going well, despite their best efforts to pay for everything, it never seemed to be enough. Her dad would say, 'All their hopes and wishes were as good as uncaught fishes.' She wasn't sure where he'd picked up the phrase, he certainly had never done any fishing, but it along with several other strange sayings it seemed to be his way of coping.

Yesterday, though they'd met together with her mom in the hospital to discuss a new job that her dad had found for her. Her mom was against it, because it would mean she'd have to be away for a long time, but it would pay the bills. If it meant her mom living longer, having access to the doctors and medications she needed, she'd do anything.

Now that she was here, she wondered what would happen. Would her mom be ok? Would she ever see her again? Could her dad cope with out her there if the worst happened?

Heather's hand tightened on the spear that she carried at her side, and she tried to distract herself from her thoughts. Fighting away the ache that was rising in her chest by focusing on her surroundings instead.

The sun was hot on her skin, the wet sand cold on her bare feet, and where her shoes bumped against her was beginning to get sore from the repetitive thumps. The backpack though light from lack of contents felt uncomfortable too, forming a barrier between her and the open air so sweat was running down her back.

Experiencing reality wasn't helping, if anything it was putting her in a worse mood. Even the lapping waves were putting her in a bad mood, as though they were mocking her by making such a soothing sound.







Heather stopped her internal cataloging of things that were irritating her. Hearing some guy shout "Language" from over the dunes. She couldn't see the owner of the voice, but a few moments later there was a puff of red smoke similar to the one she'd seen earlier that wound up and dispersed in the sky.

She took off running toward the smoke before it completely disappeared. Excited to be near other people who would surely be able to distract her from her thoughts.

(My goodness this is longer than I intended.)

An axe-weilding blonde hurried up the dune beside Hewitt.
“What’re you doing here, kid?” he asked. Two kids on the same beach, when he hadn’t seen anyone there before! How unusual!

 

[TamingMaster]

Nina let out a tired groan, rolling over. She'd been up way too late, having snuck out to hang out with her friends till almost five. Cursing herself, she'd crept back to her room and passed out as soon as she hit her bed, not even stopping to slip off her shoes before she went to sleep. Her back and shoulders ached, pressed uncomfortably against the hard, damp ground like they were.

Wait. Hard, damp ground?

She blinked sleepily, straightening. Something wasn't right. Letting out a huge yawn, she finally took a good look around her and froze, her mouth still hanging open. Where was she? Snapping her mouth shut, she climbed unsteadily to her feet, peering around her with unbelieving eyes. Four brick walls surrounded her, a rotting wooden floor creaked beneath her feet, and water dripped from the ceiling into a pan in the corner, illuminated by a single flickering bulb that hung from the ceiling. Water droplets beaded the cobwebs that adorned the rafters of the slightly cramped space, and a door graced the wall to her left. A rickety chair sat in the corner, a weirdly clean black backpack slumped on the seat. She slowly moved backward until her back pressed into the brick wall and the cold shock of water dripping onto her scalp finally brought her to her senses, her skin turning rusty to match the wall behind her.

Had she been kidnapped walking home? No, she distinctly remembered the frustratingly loud way her bedroom door had creaked on her way back in. Then what was this? Her gaze landed on the backpack again, and she crept forward, snatching it from the chair before retreating back into the corner to investigate it. There were two things inside: a large bottle of water and a container of some weird, smelly ointment. Hooked to the backpack was... a tube thing. She unattached it, examining it in confusion. It was sturdy but not really hefty, widened slightly at the very end, and had a strap on it. She looked back to the backpack and noticed something near the bottom that she hadn't seen at first: a quiver full of what looked like tiny arrows. Glancing back and forth, it suddenly struck her. She had a blowgun.

"What the heck?" Her own whisper startled her, and she glanced up, towards the door. After a moment of silence, her heart racing, she straightened and tied the quiver around her waist and put on the backpack, holding the blowgun out in front of her like a baseball bat. She cautiously tried the door handle, but besides making a small click sound, it wouldn't budge, even when she put all her force on it. Peering around the room for a key or something to help, she suddenly became aware of a grating sound that sent vibrations up her legs. As she watched in horror, the chair across from her began to tip forward, pushed by the wall behind it. It finally fell forward, making an ugly crash that echoed in a space that suddenly seemed vastly tighter. Words were shouted in her head, "GET OUT," and she reacted without stopping to realize that it wasn't her voice that formed them. Turning back to the door, she shoved against it, twisting the handle. The walls inched steadily closer.

"Come on!" She cried, panic setting in as she glanced behind her. The chair was straining as the walls pressed in on either side, groaning from the force. Backing up a few steps, she rammed into the door, which shook but stayed firm. "Come on!" She yelled again, running and throwing herself against the splintery wood. It almost gave. She moved as far back as the walls would let her, took a deep breath, and ran, letting out a desperate battle cry as she lept. Throwing her entire body weight against the door, it gave way beneath her, and she was in freefall.

Her battle cry turned into a piercing shriek as she fell, hitting the ground so hard the breath was knocked out of her. Choking and gasping for air, she rolled onto her stomach, becoming vaguely aware that she was laying on a rather grimy city street. She finally managed to draw in some painful lungfuls of air and flopped onto her back, her chest heaving as she stared up at the building she had just come from. It was grey, drab, and boring, but on the second story, there was a doorway that led to nowhere, covered by a brick wall. She would've been crushed.

Exhausted, she took in her surroundings, not budging from her prone position on the ground. The people on the streets just walked around her, staring blankly ahead, but she was too in shock to care. The sun shone down weakly from above, blocked here and there by the taller buildings. One thing was for sure: she didn't have the slightest clue where she was. Sitting up gingerly, she felt for any injuries, but except for some slight pain in her shoulder and hip where she'd hit the ground, she seemed unhurt. The blowdarts had spilled from their quiver, and she carefully began picking them from the wreckage of the door. She was lucky she hadn't landed on any of them; examining them more closely, they were sharpened to a lethal point, with hooks to make sure they wouldn't come loose once they entered their target.

She winced at the sight and looked up, her gaze settling on a young man who stood farther down the street, glancing around. He was the only person around here who seemed to be showing any real emotion whatsoever, and she stood, picking up the fallen blow gun and limping towards him. At this point, she would take any assistance she could get, and she sure as heck wouldn't be asking any of the zombie-like people for help.

"Hey, you!" She croaked, waving to get his attention. @TamingMaster

Damir brushed the dirt off his trousers, reaching into his pocket to check his little tool kit. It was safe, aside from a few dents and scratches. He tucked it back in carefully, glancing around to get a feel for his bearings.

He supposed he should talk to someone, maybe figure out where exactly he was and how he could get home. But, there was something wrong with the people. They were completely normal, aside from the fact that they behaved like robots. They didn't seem to care about his less-than-glamorous entrance, they just followed a set path.

He was violently shook out of his thoughts by a loud clatter of a wooden door crashing against the stoney ground; it thundered throughout the almost medieval-style town. However, again, none of the stray wanderers seemed to be bothered, or even really notice the commotion.

"Hey," Damir yelled over her croaky, jittery voice. "Are you okay?!"

He rushed over, holding his arms out, worried she might collapse at any moment. "Do you know where we are? Were you trapped in a building too? Did you-"
He cut himself off, not wanting to overwhelm her.

(The anxious duo. XD)

 

[Thing2]

Damir brushed the dirt off his trousers, reaching into his pocket to check his little tool kit. It was safe, aside from a few dents and scratches. He tucked it back in carefully, glancing around to get a feel for his bearings.

He supposed he should talk to someone, maybe figure out where exactly he was and how he could get home. But, there was something wrong with the people. They were completely normal, aside from the fact that they behaved like robots. They didn't seem to care about his less-than-glamorous entrance, they just followed a set path.

He was violently shook out of his thoughts by a loud clatter of a wooden door crashing against the stoney ground; it thundered throughout the almost medieval-style town. However, again, none of the stray wanderers seemed to be bothered, or even really notice the commotion.

"Hey," Damir yelled over her croaky, jittery voice. "Are you okay?!"

He rushed over, holding his arms out, worried she might collapse at any moment. "Do you know where we are? Were you trapped in a building too? Did you-"
He cut himself off, not wanting to overwhelm her.

(The anxious duo. XD)

The adrenaline rush was finally setting in, leaving her hands shaking and teeth chattering. The wave of relief at encountering a normal-seeming person nearly took her out, and she pointed at the now blocked-off doorway from which she had come with a trembling hand.

"The walls tried to crush me!" She gasped, utter confusion on her features. "Wha... why?" Her brain was slowly processing what he had asked, and she took a deep breath, trying to slow the quickly escalating panic.

"Okay." She let out a huff of air, attempting and failing to clear her head. "I don't think I'm hurt, just kinda sore. I woke up in that room about 5 to 10 minutes ago, and then the walls started closing in! There was this backpack, and also a blowgun?" She gestured with the thing vaguely, taking in her companion. He was tall and tan, probably in his early twenties, and had longer hair, almost the same length as her own. "Why the hell would I need a blowgun?"

The rest of his words hit her, along with his own anxious expression, and she glanced up at him. "Wait, you were trapped in a building too? I'm sorry, I'm completely lost right now, I don't know what's happening, and I'm all..." she searched for the right word, "scatterbrained. So... yeah," she finished weakly, staring up at him as her arms fell limply to her sides.

 

[HeavensHens88]

It should've been just another day.

Going nowhere, seeing no one, doing nothing.
Just absent wheeling down the lifeless halls of the most decrepit villa in the entire state of Montana.
It was Ibu's life, but certainly not a living.

Ibu had wrapped up her senior year of homeschooling last spring. Every so often, she would enroll in a new correspondence college until it started boring her. But even though her...ability had stripped of her rightful rank within her notorious plutocrat family, she was under no monetary obligation to work, thanks to her Aunt Verdaline's dexterous handing of multiple healthy alimonies.
Yes, her guardian was perfectly wealthy, and still lived in an antiquated domicile.
"Charm," Good Ol' Verda would assert with a totally straight face when her hand went through the wall as she patted it. "It's hard to come by anymore."

They had scheduled delivery service for necessities. Their maid came four times a month- though what she accomplished, Ibu never knew. Once in a blue moon, Ibu would set her aunt up with a questionable blind date from Kindling and send the two of them off on a thorough excursion of entirely her own design. Sometimes both of them came back.

What other reason was there to lower one's well-established standards of reclusion and step out into the overly glorified light?

In all honesty, Ibu could've easily partook in society if she wanted to.
Except Ibu didn't want to be a girl-about-town.
Every time she skirted into established civilization, she sent her head flying out and into the waking nightmares of everyone lucky enough to be a firsthand witness.

The world just wasn't able to take her and, most of the time, she was happy to let it revel in its cowardly avoidance.

Meanwhile, the matter of today:
She had hazy recollection of conking out around 3-4 AM. She'd never gotten undressed, nor had she bothered with the hassle of getting into bed. She'd parked her chair at the picture window in the sixth bedroom -the woman cave, complete with its very own working 50s TV set- and fraternized on her phone for what the majority of the elder population considered to be the darkest hours. They simply did not know what they were missing in skipping on the nocturnal lifestyle.
Ibu maintained an...interesting internet presence, to say the least. Her nightly rounds consisted of Tumblr, AO3, and occasionally Kindling. Catfishing on Tinder's successor had to be the crown jewel of her goalless pastimes.
To be frank, the illegitimate people she talked with online were her only regular contacts. She kept no in-person friends, and just forget family aside from Auntie Dearest.

Such was her existence and she would not be taking constructive criticism.

So, as one would think, she'd wake up where right she'd left off. Perhaps it'd be one of those mornings and her head would already be loitering outside the refrigerator without regard to the esophagus it'd left behind.

No, she and, by extension, her chair had been smack in the middle of a barren desert ever since she'd opened her eyes. It was arid, it was bright, and it was empty.

"Weird flex, brain, but okay," she said aloud, expecting to experience her voice with the abstract, detached distancing that dreams never failed at generating. But it came out and was received by her ears in distinctly normal fashion. "You should be used to three hours' downtime by now. Weak."

As if in response, she was promptly smacked upside the head by a rogue gust of wind. When she turned to glare at it, she noticed an unassuming pack hung from the handle of her chair. Curious about what her r/Dreams-soliciting subconscious was trying to tell her she needed to unpack, she pulled it onto her lap and opened it.
What she sighted upon first was some sort of tin. Upon unscrewing it, she found it to contain a vaseline-type goo and immediately had to deny all the insinuations her gutter mind mass produced on the spot.
The water bottle was inoffensive enough.
But the FOOD BAR?
"For the LAST TIME, I do NOT have an eating disorder," she spat vehemently and promptly yeeted it with as much force as her feebly muscled arms possessed.

It hit the sand and laid there sadly. Like any normal innocuous inanimate object.

She was now aggravated beyond bothering to make sense of her situation and slammed down on both of her chair's handles, effectively hitting the gas.
But the oversized motor just sputtered in protest as the wheels angrily hurled sand.

Ibu whipped around so fast her head should've come off.
There was a pole horizontally wedged between her spokes and protruding from each side two or some feet. On the right end, it had an axe blade jutting out half a foot down from an immaculately sharp spike.
She wasn't surprised that she actually knew what it was. Thanks to her fanfiction consumption, Ibu liked to consider herself well educated in both modern and less-than-modern torture devices. This is me suddenly gaining new respect for the overage of German Renaissance AU writers.

"Well, if this is reconciliation for being a presumptive little *****, mind of mine, apology not accepted," but when she yanked it free, she didn't throw it away.

Halberd hoisted high and not doing wonders for her balance, Ibu tornadoed forth to who knows where at a solid 30 MPH.

 

[Cluckcluck1215]

“Jack.” Jack supplied. He was already staring into the distance again. He slowly bent down and grabbed his own discarded sword, sliding it into the sheath.
“Hey, you didn’t happen to just.. uh, appear here, did you?” He questioned, idly walking back to where he had hastily dropped his bag, slinging it onto his shoulder. Turning back to Phaedra, his eyes caught on her own possessions. Same bag.
“Unless we were both in a very wild party in the middle of the desert which we don’t remember, I have no idea how we got here.”

Faye stared at their surroundings, watching a small lizard dart across the white-yellow sand, disappearing beneath a clump of rocks. "Just appeared here.." she murmured, spinning to take in the rest of their surroundings. "Where are we? This is so strange."

 

[Cluckcluck1215]

Heather walked up the beach on the water hardened sand, leaving little puddle footprints behind her. She'd taken her shoes off and had them dangling by their shoelaces in her left hand, bumping against her thigh with each step.

Her gaze was drawn out to the imperceptible horizon. Somewhere out there the blue of the water and the blue of the sky merged into one. But the line of separation was imperceptible to her eyes.

This place was so completely new and different from what she knew. How exactly she was supposed to survive here she didn't know. All she could hope was that she would either find someone else out here, or that she'd find civilization.

She took a deep breath of the heavy salty air closing her eyes as she sighed. Thinking back to the last time she'd visited her mom. Things really weren't going well, despite their best efforts to pay for everything, it never seemed to be enough. Her dad would say, 'All their hopes and wishes were as good as uncaught fishes.' She wasn't sure where he'd picked up the phrase, he certainly had never done any fishing, but it along with several other strange sayings it seemed to be his way of coping.

Yesterday, though they'd met together with her mom in the hospital to discuss a new job that her dad had found for her. Her mom was against it, because it would mean she'd have to be away for a long time, but it would pay the bills. If it meant her mom living longer, having access to the doctors and medications she needed, she'd do anything.

Now that she was here, she wondered what would happen. Would her mom be ok? Would she ever see her again? Could her dad cope with out her there if the worst happened?

Heather's hand tightened on the spear that she carried at her side, and she tried to distract herself from her thoughts. Fighting away the ache that was rising in her chest by focusing on her surroundings instead.

The sun was hot on her skin, the wet sand cold on her bare feet, and where her shoes bumped against her was beginning to get sore from the repetitive thumps. The backpack though light from lack of contents felt uncomfortable too, forming a barrier between her and the open air so sweat was running down her back.

Experiencing reality wasn't helping, if anything it was putting her in a worse mood. Even the lapping waves were putting her in a bad mood, as though they were mocking her by making such a soothing sound.







Heather stopped her internal cataloging of things that were irritating her. Hearing some guy shout "Language" from over the dunes. She couldn't see the owner of the voice, but a few moments later there was a puff of red smoke similar to the one she'd seen earlier that wound up and dispersed in the sky.

She took off running toward the smoke before it completely disappeared. Excited to be near other people who would surely be able to distract her from her thoughts.

(My goodness this is longer than I intended.)

An axe-weilding blonde hurried up the dune beside Hewitt.
“What’re you doing here, kid?” he asked. Two kids uon the same beach, when he hadn’t seen anyone there before! How unusual!

Saturn backed away from him, raising her spear the moment he lifted his cane. "Cursed by a fairy?" He's completely off his rocker.

Or am I?

This has got to be a dream.

"How do you get cursed by–" She stopped, her attention grabbed by a blonde who was running up the dune with an axe— hold on, an axe?
"Now who are you?"

 

[Cluckcluck1215]

Xavier paused, attention drawing upwards. It's eyes narrowed, lip curling as it found the source of the persistent and annoying chirping. There was a bird, balancing on a thin branch several feet up, singing loudly.

Scoffing heavily, they threw down their bow, dropping the quiver a few inches from it, reaching into their bag to grab the bottle of water.
The forest was strangely quiet. Except for the birds and the quiet tap tap tap of raindrops, there was hardly any other noise.

It was unnerving.

They leaned against the trunk of the tree, taking long sips of the water. A clump of glowering blue mushrooms caught it's eye, following a thin trail deeper into the forest. It seemed as though the trail closed in after about a hundred feet, into some sort of tunnel, just barely illuminated by the fungi.

Bad idea?

Yeah.

What if it's the way out?

Out of where?

Here, you numbskull. Where else?

But where is here?

You're no help.

Finishing their arguement with their own head, they stuffed the water back into the bag and collected it's stuff.
Deciding the only way to go was forward, they continued down the path. Into the darkness, where the forest slowly faded into a tunnel. Tumbling down into perilous darkness.

 

[Butterscotchbitesfinger]

Cassie got up and started walking again, surely, surely she couldn’t be the only one stuck in this forest? She stumbled through caring her backpack, bow and quiver of arrows. It had been unwise of her to drink so much of her water, now she only had one third of a bottle left. She walked along in silence except for the occasional song which popped into her head which she hummed.

 

[Yowza Wowza]

She shrugged “I guess someone must have pulled some stupid prank on me, because I’m pretty sure I didn’t drink any alcohol last night so I honestly have no idea how I got out here” she looked at him “how about you?”

Evan gently hummed to her words, knitting his brows at the conclusion that she basically had the same story as him. Giving a wipe of his sweaty forehead, he started trudging along in a completely random direction. “Uh.. I woke up in the forest inside a tree... I don’t particularly know anyone who would consider abandoning me all the way out there. Not like I know a ton of people either.” Acknowledging his lack of popularity and friends, he could have been kidnapped for that very reason. Uncomfortably feeling the sand enter his sinking shoes with every step, he took a look at the girl. “So what’s your name? I’m Evan” he smiled weakly.

 

[Butterscotchbitesfinger]

Evan gently hummed to her words, knitting his brows at the conclusion that she basically had the same story as him. Giving a wipe of his sweaty forehead, he started trudging along in a completely random direction. “Uh.. I woke up in the forest inside a tree... I don’t particularly know anyone who would consider abandoning me all the way out there. Not like I know a ton of people either.” Acknowledging his lack of popularity and friends, he could have been kidnapped for that very reason. Uncomfortably feeling the sand enter his sinking shoes with every step, he took a look at the girl. “So what’s your name? I’m Evan” he smiled weakly.

“Hi Evan, I’m Lyra” she gave him a smile back but was still trying to brush sand off her face and hair and legs