imaginarynetwork | new message from user: UN

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npc: universe

new message from user: UN

[A window pops up on everyone's bracers, forcefully installing the System Update that Sans and Sayori developed.

After it's finished loading, the messaging system pops back up, and a new message arrives. It opens without prompting, and a holographic figure projects onto the ground in front of everyone using a bracer.

The hologram is of what appears to be just a regular guy, some ambiguous schmuck. He's not particularly tall looking, wears a pair of big, black-framed glasses, his hair is mousey brown and trimmed short, and he doesn't even wear Faerun clothes.

He stands straight and confident with a smile on his face and his hands behind his back as he addresses the Reclaimers as if looking each of them in the eye.]

Hey! Hi! Hello there. Uh, wow, I gotta say, I wasn't expecting you to get through to me this way, but here we are!

That was pretty amazing.

Well, it's nice to finally meet you face to face! Or... face-to-hologram-projection-of-a-physical-manifestation. Hey! I'm your universe. That's right, the one you're living in right now! The one with uh, Faerun, and all the little folks running around there in places like Thay and Vista Virs.

You might know me as the Story. Some friends of mine like to call me Greg. It's kind of a little joke.

Uh, anyway, I know you're wondering why this conversation is so one-sided, and I'll try to field some questions at the end, but we kinda gotta make this quick, so, storytime! We've got— [he checks his wrist, which definitely does not have a watch.] — Just enough time for that.

Once upon a time, a small group of individuals got pulled throughout time and space, trying to fend off a pretty spooky-lookin' calamity. I'm talkin' end-of-all-worlds big. But saving worlds isn't easy, and more and more folks got pulled into a story and a struggle that was never theirs in the first place.

Those individuals found common ground and worked together to try and stop the calamity, and to reverse the damage it had done.

But despite their best efforts, it looked like they were destined to lose. Though they fought as hard as they could, a cult that sought to stop them from the beginning thwarted their plans and all of a sudden, magic, the hope they'd relied on all along, was snuffed out.

Cut off from magic and cut off from the planes, the heroes turned to each other and gave each other everything they had. They exchanged gifts of weapons, trinkets, armor; all in the effort of strengthening each other against the coming hardships.

As the nights grew colder, the calamity came upon them from the inside. The cult had found a way to plant a seed of doubt in their leader, and that doubt in herself consumed her, threatening to combine with the calamity that already chased the heroes.

None of them were counting on the fact that those heroes had made quite a few friends, notably detective Angus McDonald, a little boy of a particular kind. Those heroes were so kind to him, he'd do anything for them— even make a wish that could have been the end of him.

And so he did. He made a wish on a book that had captured a Relic's light, and that wish met up with all the other wishes those heroes made. Because you see, there's magic in hope. There's magic in love. And there's magic in a wish; Angus the dragon's wish; Lucretia, the cursed crewmate's wish; and yours, the wishes of stolen heroes. When the Relic amplified those wishes, I woke up.

[The hologram man grins even wider.]

I heard it.

I heard the hope in his voice and in yours and it reminded me of something really, really important.

It reminded me... that I really don't want to get eaten!

[The hologram man laughs, eyes crinkling behind his comical specs.]

I don't wanna end!

But see, the thing is, I'm just the story. I can't do anything myself. I had to figure out a way to get you guys all your power back. I realized that when Lucretia brought you here, pieces of your universes came with you. Those pieces became a part of me, including all of the magic that existed in you. With that magic, I was able to stitch the Weave back together.

In other words, we were able to fix the very fabric of magic's existence because of the magic that existed in you.

So I gave us more time by changing what time meant and brought you all here. If I stretched out time, it meant I could not only fix magic, but also take away Angus's entire memory of the thrall of the relic. I just... kind of took your memories of Candlenights, too.

Hey, uh, sorry, Angus, by the way.

The only problem with the whole idea was that in scanning some of the parts of your home, I downloaded parts that were eaten by the Hunger. They became like... vacant information, somehow, and the Islanders here called them "The Cursed." Since all those Hunger-copies really knew was searching for those Relics, they all gathered around the north side of the island, around the Relic that Angus used.

Now, I know that this still probably all seems like a lot of things that weren't your fault, but they sure are our problem. And like I said, I don't wanna get eaten. I'm sure none of you do either.

But I can't stop the Hunger without you.

You are the only ones that can turn this whole thing around. You are the little stars in my skies, the seams in the fabric that sews all your worlds together. You... are everything that makes me me, and I'm everything you bring.

Without you, I'm just... one big swath of space, a page that has yet to be written on.

So... are you ready to take the first step to stopping the Hunger?

((Greg will be open to receive tags (and answer questions) on this post/threadjack until Monday, but not all replies to this post are guaranteed to receive a response from him. You may use this post to speak amongst yourselves as usual, and may even be lucky enough to get responses from other NPCs!

On Monday evening, we will move forward with the CTA portion, starting with signups!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Honestly? I need a drink.

[ Look, she gets it. Banding together to save existence is important, but she's felt stretched thin since arriving here and when the time comes, just point her in a direction and tell her what needs to be done. For now, she'll do what she does best: compartmentalize the hell out of this. ]

The only question is: daiquiri or margarita?

Straight tequila.

[Even with the pieces they'd put together so far, this is...a lot.]

[ It's a lot a lot. And this is knowing that they were already doing big things by hunting down relics and trying to stop the hunger. This is just... the fate of everything. But, whoops, she's supposed to be bottling that shit right up in her head, isn't she? ]

Mm, I'm gonna need salt and a lime wedge for that.

un: delacroix

UN: Wash | Voice

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voice | un: synagogue

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un: sans; text

UN: UN

un: PAPYRUS | voice

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