Dreams of the Quill

“From the darkness of a thermometer-shattering ice storm in hell, a structurally violent JasonxMarin awakening!”

A Street Corner in San Francisco, California
You are standing on a street corner in San Francisco, California.
There is a nondescript black van parked here, casting a mighty shadow.

> x van
The van is black. It is nondescript, just the way your employer likes it. Having reflecting on the matter at length, you have decided that it is in fact nondescript to the point of being conspicuous.

> x shadow
It is a mighty shadow. The San Francisco fog doesn’t sit heavy today, so the scene is less diffusely lit than typical. As a result, the edges of the lengthening shadow are sharper than you are accustomed to, casting back onto the van more of an effect of a more imposing figure – broad, boxy, erect.
Young plants avert their blooming flowers in embarrassment at the unstoppable behemoth of a shadowcaster.
You, too, cast down your eyes in shame, now touching your chin, now fumbling with your watch. It’s five o’clock, and you are no less than 100% late for work, and on the one day you were told to be here at a certain time, so that your orientation could be done properly.

> approach van
You cross the threshold to darkness, and are overcome by an ominous chill.
You are now closer to the van.

> approach van
You penetrate deeper into the soul-consuming shadow, and are paralyzed with meekness.
You are now closer to the van.

—- Last shred of confidence subtracted from inventory.

> x van
You can’t do that while paralyzed.

> stab thigh with dagger
With a horrendous gut-wrenching roar, you plunge the kunai into your own thigh, a fountain of blood erupting to splatter and stain the flowers quivering in the van’s mighty shadow. The pain clears your head, dispelling all non-permanent negative mind effects and giving a temporary +4 circumstance bonus to will saving throws for ten rounds.

You can move again.

> x van
HDR bloom effects around the edges of backlit van, while impressive in their own right, make those edges less clean due to color bleed and the imperfections of your eyes as light measurement devices. This significantly undermines the overall imposingness of the van’s aspect.

—- A shred of confidence added to inventory.

> type code into number pad
Done.

> open crew door
Done.

> enter van

Inside of Law 1 Van
You are inside a van. The interior space seems—
“MIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIM” screech-drones intensely the inspector’s voice over the speaker.

There is a lifetime supply of verbal abuse here.

> what?
“MIMIMIMIMIMIMtoddlerIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIseriousMIMIMIMIMIMIMIM” screech-drones intensely the inspector’s voice over the speaker.

> wha?
“MIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIM” screech-drones intensely the inspector’s voice over the speaker.

> whu-
“MIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIM” screech-drones intensely the inspector’s voice over the speaker.

> bu-
“MIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIM” screech-drones intensely the inspector’s voice over the speaker.

> mu-
“MIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIM” screech-drones intensely the inspector’s voice over the speaker.

> th-
“MIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIMIM” screech-drones intensely the inspector’s voice over the speaker.

> say “andsoinspectorthatswhatIwasdoinglastnightHadthisbigpartygotprettywasteditsembarassingtosaybutyeahmyfriendswouldntletmebetheysaidwehadtokeepcelebratingsothatswhyIdidntgettobeduntilfiveandwhyIdidntgethereatpreciselynineoclock”

“The one day I tell you to be here by a certain time, so that we can do your orientation properly, you show up late, Jason.” intone the inspector’s harsh tones over the speaker.

The pain in your thigh has now subsided.

> protest this horrendously unjust unfair undeserved unwarranted-
You fail your will saving throw and freeze for one (1) rounds.

The speaker continues berating you with the inspector’s voice.

> protest
You fail your will saving throw and freeze for one (1) rounds.

The speaker continues berating you with the inspector’s voice.

> protest
You fail your will saving throw and freeze for one (1) rounds.

The speaker continues berating you with the inspector’s voice.

> apologize
You stammer out some pathetic sniveling whimper of an “I’m sorry!”

—- Last shred of self-respect subtracted from inventory.

The speaker continues berating you with the inspector’s voice.

> apologize
You try to stammer out some pathetic sniveling whimper of an “I’m sorry!” but fail.

The speaker continues berating you with the inspector’s voice.

> take it
—- A lifetime supply of verbal abuse added to inventory.

With a disheartened sigh, the speaker finally peters out.

—- Stage Clear —-

—- Would you like to save your progress so far? (y/n)

> y

—- Error
—- Progress cannot be saved
—- Error
—- Save command returned Error, Code DPD :: Drawing girls in snow is difficult
—- Save loop exit (save unsuccessful)

—- Proceeding to the next stage

—- Loading…
—- Loading….
—- Please wait….

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A food court in Berkeley, California
Bland. You are standing in a bland food court in Berkeley, California. The sky is dull and grey; in every direction a lame fog permeates the space between you and everything. Bland sky, bland food, bland food court, bland street, bland city, bland country, bland world. The fog is probably even hovering on the ground just to dampen your footsteps, padding everything from everything, muffling your being. The meal you have just discarded flops lamely in the trash bin, following so many others you haven’t had the appetite for. Your gaze scans the other food vendors, but it makes no difference. You’ve tried them all, it’s all the same. Bland. There’s nothing to see. There is not a single discernible detail for your eyes to notice, for your mind to study.
Bland.

> exit food court
You can’t discern a way to do that here.

> cast Find Exits
The thoroughly insane notion pops into your head that lurking in the darkness are great powers just waiting to be violently awakened, which you will be able to channel to cast magic spells. If only you had your spirit guide power animal with you!

> summon spirit guide power animal
The thoroughly insane notion pops into your head that your spirit guide power animal is nearby, and will come if you just whistle the right tune. If only you knew how to polyphonically whistle!

> spontaneously instantiate spirit guide power animal
The thoroughly insane notion pops into your head that if you conjure a sufficiently effective vibrant and detailed image of your spirit guide power animal, the creature will suddenly quite of its own actualize before you.

You close your eyes and begin visualizing…

> visualize spirit guide power animal
(in your mind’s eye) What animal do you visualize?

> visualize rabbit
(in your mind’s eye) The Energizer Bunny pounds past. Power animal indeed! But hardly a spirit guide.

> oh whatever!
You are no longer visualizing.

> x food court
Bland. You try to focus but there is not a single discernible detail for your eyes to notice, for your mind to study.
Bland.

> reminisce about how the food court used to be
You close your eyes. The old images come floating back. You recall the first time you visited Berkeley, five years ago, before the switch. The food court had character – interesting food, each shop distinctive, eager students in yellow caps — especially that one — bustling about studiously, dealing drugs and swapping CDs, pigeons pouring out their bowels on everything. And a short dilapidated wheelchair ramp to the south.

—- From the darkness in your heart, memory of the food court exit is violently awakened!

> exit food court
With a sigh you step out of the food court to the street. Try as you may, your desire to describe this movement as “emerging” cannot be reconciled with reality.

Hearst Avenue
Bland. You are standing in a dull spot on a dull street enveloped in dull fog. A constant stream of headlights emerges from the fog, oozing up the hill, fading again at the other end of your small pocket of world. Bland.

Every so often, a car with a broken headlight trundles past, like a holy beacon of uneven light, to be grasped at, desperately clung to. Then its place is taken again by the next dull vehicle, the same as the rest, moving perfectly in line, in time, lock step, clean rhyme, all fine design, no shine, no grime, no whine, no spine.

> x cars
Bland. You try to focus but there is no discernible detail for your eyes to focus on, for your mind to study. The throng crawls ever forwards, but even as from moment to moment it is surely always moving, still each moment it looks the same. Bland.

> i
Bland. You try to focus but from pocket to pocket your senses are too muted to make out what’s what and your mind just can’t seem to grip to keep track. You’re probably wearing your backpack, or is it that new jacket you put on this morning that’s still kind of stiff why would you have your binder in your arm if it could be in your backpack or is that your purse in hand but your wallet is over in the left pocket unless that’s a packet of flashcards but weren’t they over here on the other side or was it you feel like you should be more worried that you lost your keys but it’s all just too dull.

> s
Though you’re having trouble working out the details, the cars are moving, and therefore dangerous. It’s probably not a good idea to move from here until you’ve gotten a handle on the traffic flow.

> reminisce about bad drivers
The next time a car with a broken headlight trundles up the hill, you seize on it. It evokes a memory of a time when people would casually forget to turn their lights on in the fog, drive drunk, stop their cars in red zones, and cross the street wherever and whenever they felt like it.

—- From the darkness in your heart, memory of jaywalking is violently awakened!

> s
With a sigh you guide your small pocket-in-the-fog across the street.

Hearst Avenue (other side)
Bland. You are standing in a dull spot on a dull street enveloped in dull fog. A constant stream of headlights emerges from the fog, oozing up the hill, fading again at the other end of your small pocket of world. Bland.

> w
With a third sigh in as many moves, you start down the hill, headed for home.

—- Stage Foggy —-

> what?
Excuse me?

> w
At the base of the hill the fog thins slightly.

—- Stage Clear —-

—- Would you like to save your progress so far? (y/n)

>y

—- Progress saved

—- Proceed to the next stage? (y/n)

>y

—- Loading…
—- Loading….
—- Please wait….

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