Difference between revisions of "Phase Q/Dusk to Dusk"
(rm extraneous material) |
(edit) |
||
| Line 3: | Line 3: | ||
Except for a few vague, idle thoughts. | Except for a few vague, idle thoughts. | ||
| − | “What if | + | “What if?” the world seems to wonder. |
“What can we do?” you ask, pleadingly. | “What can we do?” you ask, pleadingly. | ||
| Line 19: | Line 19: | ||
You yearn for your friends, your allies, at this point even your enemies would be nice. | You yearn for your friends, your allies, at this point even your enemies would be nice. | ||
| − | “Can you tell me what the plan is?” | + | “Can you tell me what the plan is?” you ask. |
“All right,” the world gives in. | “All right,” the world gives in. | ||
| Line 37: | Line 37: | ||
Still nothing. | Still nothing. | ||
| − | “Are you doing anything?” | + | “Are you doing anything?” you ask. |
“Yeah,” says the world. “In progress.” | “Yeah,” says the world. “In progress.” | ||
| Line 43: | Line 43: | ||
Impatiently, you tap your toes. | Impatiently, you tap your toes. | ||
| − | Tap, tap, tap. | + | ''Tap, tap, tap.'' |
Still nothing. You look around impatiently. | Still nothing. You look around impatiently. | ||
| − | Tap, tap, tap. | + | ''Tap, tap, tap.'' |
You listen carefully. All you can hear is the tapping of your own feet. | You listen carefully. All you can hear is the tapping of your own feet. | ||
| Line 53: | Line 53: | ||
Waitaminute. | Waitaminute. | ||
| − | Tap, tap, tap. | + | ''Tap, tap, tap.'' |
Aha! | Aha! | ||
| Line 59: | Line 59: | ||
Looking down, you see beneath your feet a floor. A wooden floor. A wooden floor against which your foot is tapping. | Looking down, you see beneath your feet a floor. A wooden floor. A wooden floor against which your foot is tapping. | ||
| − | “Oh, thank you!” | + | “Oh, thank you!” you exclaim, to the world. |
As you feel your foot tapping against the world, you start to give it a certain rhythm. You start with some samba, try some bossanova. Now you’re grooving. | As you feel your foot tapping against the world, you start to give it a certain rhythm. You start with some samba, try some bossanova. Now you’re grooving. | ||
| − | Tap, tap, tap. | + | ''Tap, tap, tap.'' |
Well, it sure beats nothing, having this something. Even if it is just a little piece of wooden floor. | Well, it sure beats nothing, having this something. Even if it is just a little piece of wooden floor. | ||
| − | “Say, uh | + | “Say, uh,” you wonder. |
“Yes?” answers the world. | “Yes?” answers the world. | ||
| Line 77: | Line 77: | ||
“Yes, but. I was just wondering if, maybe, perchance, could you do you think maybe also come up with something else? A bit more of a thing here?” | “Yes, but. I was just wondering if, maybe, perchance, could you do you think maybe also come up with something else? A bit more of a thing here?” | ||
| − | “Oh, right. I’ll get right on that. | + | “Oh, right. I’ll get right on that,” says the world. |
The music of your foot tapping fills your ears. You laugh, you smile, you practically scream and shout and yell with joy. The simple rhythm, the tappity tap, the tactile sensation of having something material out there, beyond just yourself. Something to interact with. It’s the simple things in life, you think to yourself. | The music of your foot tapping fills your ears. You laugh, you smile, you practically scream and shout and yell with joy. The simple rhythm, the tappity tap, the tactile sensation of having something material out there, beyond just yourself. Something to interact with. It’s the simple things in life, you think to yourself. | ||
| Line 99: | Line 99: | ||
“Well. It, uh, it’s sort of coming out different than I thought.” | “Well. It, uh, it’s sort of coming out different than I thought.” | ||
| − | + | “Dark,” you think to yourself. | |
| − | With a flicker, a squadron of | + | With a flicker, a squadron of Flowrisers appear out of nowhere. They perform a technical marvel in synchronization, then disappear again. Rapidly appearing and disappearing, the world alternates between nothingness and madly contriving Flowrisers. |
After a while, the flickering stops. | After a while, the flickering stops. | ||
| Line 112: | Line 112: | ||
“Well, at present, no.” | “Well, at present, no.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | * [[Phase Q/Whatever|Rematerialize.]] | ||
| + | * [[Phase Q/New Ways|Try something new.]] | ||
{{Phase Q}} | {{Phase Q}} | ||
Latest revision as of 12:44, 19 October 2015
Floating through the vast endless eons of emptiness, nothing stirs.
Except for a few vague, idle thoughts.
“What if?” the world seems to wonder.
“What can we do?” you ask, pleadingly.
“Huh?” the world answers.
“You said that there may be a way.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“That.” The world seems quite final.
You yearn for your friends, your allies, at this point even your enemies would be nice.
“Can you tell me what the plan is?” you ask.
“All right,” the world gives in.
You wait.
Nothing happens.
“Hello?” you ask.
“Yeah, hang on, I’m just dealing with one other thing, then I’ll be right with you.”
“Oh, OK.”
You wait a while longer.
Still nothing.
“Are you doing anything?” you ask.
“Yeah,” says the world. “In progress.”
Impatiently, you tap your toes.
Tap, tap, tap.
Still nothing. You look around impatiently.
Tap, tap, tap.
You listen carefully. All you can hear is the tapping of your own feet.
Waitaminute.
Tap, tap, tap.
Aha!
Looking down, you see beneath your feet a floor. A wooden floor. A wooden floor against which your foot is tapping.
“Oh, thank you!” you exclaim, to the world.
As you feel your foot tapping against the world, you start to give it a certain rhythm. You start with some samba, try some bossanova. Now you’re grooving.
Tap, tap, tap.
Well, it sure beats nothing, having this something. Even if it is just a little piece of wooden floor.
“Say, uh,” you wonder.
“Yes?” answers the world.
“Do you think you could come up with a bit more than this? I mean, not to sound unappreciative or anything. I really am truly grateful for this wonderful gift you have given me. This piece of, uh, wooden flooring.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, but. I was just wondering if, maybe, perchance, could you do you think maybe also come up with something else? A bit more of a thing here?”
“Oh, right. I’ll get right on that,” says the world.
The music of your foot tapping fills your ears. You laugh, you smile, you practically scream and shout and yell with joy. The simple rhythm, the tappity tap, the tactile sensation of having something material out there, beyond just yourself. Something to interact with. It’s the simple things in life, you think to yourself.
“Um, er,” says the world.
“Yes?” you say.
“There’s an, uh, issue.”
“What is it?” you ask.
“Well, so, I’ve been working on coming up with something else here, as you know.”
“Yes.”
“And.”
“Yes?”
“Well. It, uh, it’s sort of coming out different than I thought.”
“Dark,” you think to yourself.
With a flicker, a squadron of Flowrisers appear out of nowhere. They perform a technical marvel in synchronization, then disappear again. Rapidly appearing and disappearing, the world alternates between nothingness and madly contriving Flowrisers.
After a while, the flickering stops.
“So?” you ask the world.
“So what?”
“So, can we do anything else?”
“Well, at present, no.”
Phase Q: An interactive adventure.
