# Off the Cuff (Fast PlaybyPost)



## Bob Whitely (Oct 29, 2013)

Got a moment? There's no character sheets - and hardly any rules. This is just a shared story, but it can be a lot of fun! I've hosted many, and they are always fun when you get into them. As with most things in life, you get out what you put in! 

*Easy Rules:*
•*Continue each post with 1-4 sentences
• You can't post twice in a row, so that the story isn't dominated by a poster
• You can add characters, change locations, etc. just keep it reasonable
• No silly posts.
• Don't turn someone else's scene into a dream or otherwise invalidate them
• Please be respectful of others and keep the story from getting nasty
• No adult, graphic depictions - you know what I mean.
• the story is blended-genre
• From time to time, I may call a Count Down to end a chapter*

*A count Down means in 5 posts that chapter of the story ends. Everything stops, and then I will post a new Chapter Intro. (This helps redirect the story if I feel it's getting stagnant or is going off on an unhealthy tangent, is losing focus or just to keep things interesting and changing. It's not a reflection on those who are posting and the quality of their posts. It just shakes things up. Thanks in advance for playing!

This is an easy Play-by-Post. If you can abide by the simple rules above, dive in! I'll post the opening scene in the next post...


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## Bob Whitely (Oct 29, 2013)

*Chapter One*

Michael Drosik awoke with a start to an ear-piercing scream only rivaled by his own terror, realizing he was staring out over the edge of a catwalk, some nine stories off the ground and about to plunge to his death. Everything was a blur; he had no idea what was going on, or how he got there. Quickly reaching out, he locked an elbow around one of the catwalk bars and pulled himself to his feet. Dizzy, his head pounding and wet with blood, all he could see were the burnt out husks of skyscrapers all around him, and moving slowly, awkwardly far below, what seemed like mannequins run by a drunken puppet master, or zombies out of some bad B-rated flick.


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## Bob Whitely (Oct 31, 2013)

Surely there are writers on this forum who would get a kick out of this, and benefit from it. Just as surely there must be people on this forum who love playing something fun, especially when it only takes about 1 minute to learn the rules and start playing! 

Try it. A single post. Couldn't hurt. And if it suits your fancy, stop by again later and post again once the story has moved a bit!

Don't be shy. Jump in folks!


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## martin321 (Oct 31, 2013)

The last thing he could remember was the party in the bar on Fifth Street, a private function that he'd gatecrashed by slipping in through a fire-exit left propped open by a smoker. The drinks, the loud thumping music, the girls in short skirts, it was all a muddle of impressions. And the man, he remembered now, the man dressed in black, offering him something with an outstretched hand.


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## Bob Whitely (Oct 31, 2013)

What was it? Michael wondered, his mind racing, yet not getting anywhere, obviously the result of too much alcohol, and whatever the hell happened to his head. Reaching into his left pocket for his satellite phone, he found only a coin; no, not a coin, it was a black disk of unfamiliar material, larger than one of those old silver dollars, and displayed the image of a golden butterfly.


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## jastius (Nov 1, 2013)

then he remembered... the crash (if that's what it was), with the thunder of metal slamming into metal, the screech of dragging sparking mass digging furrows through things never meant to move. And the flames rising into the night that suppurated them all in the ungodly smell of char-broiled human flesh. Why was it he could suddenly speak german, and had only one word of it foremost in his thoughts, Hindenburg..?


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## martin321 (Nov 1, 2013)

The fragments of memory whirled around in his mind, coalescing and fitting together like jigsaw pieces, and he had the feeling that once he could see the whole picture he wouldn't like it, not one bit. The German immigrant in the bar, this whole mess had started with him, claimed to be some sort of scientist, talked a lot of nonsense that seemed almost plausible after a drink or six. He'd humoured the guy, who, as he got drunker, started babbling about secret experiments and conspiracies. Calling the scientist's bluff had been a mistake, and now it didn't seem like such nonsense, perched up here, looking down at the devastation below.


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 1, 2013)

A sound behind him, monstrous, unearthly, shocked him out of his introspection and he whirled around, flashes of youthful nightmares awakening the same childlike response of so long ago: panic and the need to flee. He chased them away, reminding himself there were logical explanations for everything, and peered into the dust and debris-laden bedroom, the old stained wooden floorboards freshly streaked with blood, leading up the broken window before him. 

Unhinging himself slowly from the catwalk, he strained an arm toward the window ledge, latched on, white knuckled, and eased himself inside, weary of the glass shards and whatever made those awful sounds.


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## jastius (Nov 2, 2013)

he was met by the sight of a blood covered horror only just recognizable as a human being.


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 2, 2013)

LZ 129, LZ 129: The designation kept repeating itself over and over in his head, but he couldn't place it, not till later. 

Rolling to the left, out of the creature's reach, his injuries and the designation forgotten for the moment, he was met by flames everywhere he looked. He could feel the irrepressible heat, and tasted the choking smoke, but the vision faded. Laying on the ruined floor before him was the horror, it's throat cut clean, with only a flap of skin connecting head to body, and in Michael's right hand, a bloody, broken vase.


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## martin321 (Nov 2, 2013)

He prodded the thing with his foot, to make sure that it was truly dead, and was about to examine it more closely when he heard the sound of a stifled sob. It had come from behind a small door, which looked as though it led onto a bathroom or closet.

"Is anyone there?" he asked. "It's safe to come out now."


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 3, 2013)

"Michael?" a voice cried out, weak and oddly familiar. He peered inside cautiously, too many horror movies causing him to flinch at shadows. This is where the zombie appears out of nowhere and tries to snack on your arm, right? Instead, he found a strangely-dressed woman standing in the shower trembling, a long, vibroblade in her hands; her blouse was stained with blood, but she seemed unharmed.


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## martin321 (Nov 3, 2013)

"Are you all right?" he asked. "And what the hell was that thing?"

"Michael. Don't you remember me?"


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## jastius (Nov 3, 2013)

he stared at the blade. that was very familiar. he saw the insignia on the hilt. it was his standard issue blade from his guard job.


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 4, 2013)

"We can't stay here. You know that, right, Michael?" She said, steeling herself as she stepped out of the shower and handed him the blade.

"It's not safe. I know you want to find your brother... find the man that... caused all this," she said motioning around them, adding, "but the gate closes in less than an hour, and we have to get back, or at least get somewhere safe till we can sort this mess out."


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## jastius (Nov 4, 2013)

just then there was another explosion and they heard the sound of running feet in the room behind them.


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## martin321 (Nov 4, 2013)

The woman's long, black leather coat was becoming spotted with the white dust and plaster falling from the ceiling, and when she held out a hand towards him the sleeve rode up her arm, revealing a golden butterfly tattoo on her wrist.

"Hey, snap out of it," she said. "Haven't you ever seen a girl just out of a shower before? Come on, this building's gonna collapse, and I'd rather be someplace else when it does."


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 4, 2013)

When he saw the tatt, his heart skipped a beat and he decided then not to let her out of his sight till he sorted things out. Hearing the sound of footsteps in the adjoining room, he switched the vibroblade off so the hum wouldn't give them away. He held up a finger to his lips and quietly slipped inside the shower with her, closing the curtain ever so quietly.


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## martin321 (Nov 4, 2013)

"Cosy," she whispered in his ear, before holding his head in her hands and staring deeply into his eyes. "Concussion," she added, rather spoiling the moment.

She breathed in his ear, "That's what you get for being stupid enough to jump out of a burning chopper. That idiot of a pilot should never have gotten so close to the gate, he flew right into the vortex."


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 5, 2013)

As she finishes, they hear an inhuman roar and something heavy hit the floor in the other room. Staying very still, they wait and listen as something lingers in the doorway to the bathroom, it's jaw workin' but only uttering grunts and clacking of teeth. Thankfully, after several tense moments, it turns and heads out of the apartment, one leg dragging along the floor, from the sound of it.


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## martin321 (Nov 6, 2013)

A new explosion shook the building, closer this time, and a stream of dust rained down upon them in the shower.

The woman propelled Michael towards the doorway. "Come on, we need to get outta here. We'll have to take our chances with the creatures."


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 6, 2013)

As they ran, he tied a T-shirt he found on the floor, around the wound on his head. Something led Michael to head for the stairs leading up to the roof, instead of the streets below. He wanted to see the gate for himself. There was a reason the chopper was heading for it, and a reason why he'd jumped free, but what those reasons were escaped him; it was almost as if someone didn't want him to remember.


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## martin321 (Nov 7, 2013)

In the dimly lit stairwell, Michael started climbing the steps up towards the roof.

"We gotta go down, Dummy; up is for imbeciles with a serious deathwish."

"It'll only take a minute, I've got to see it," he replied. "Wait here, if you want."


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 9, 2013)

She stood and watched him ascend the stairs, inwardly cursing him for his stubborness, then followed after. He reached for the door and flung it open, stepping out into the cold. It should have been dark, but the gate, floating only a few yards above the rooftop was shimmering brilliantly, lighting up the sky. Circling above, out of reach of the gate's pull was a news chopper.


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## jastius (Nov 9, 2013)

tracer fire skidded over the lit rooftop seeking them .. bullets pinged off the ventilation shaft between the roof door and the chopper. 
a giant flare of light issued from the chopper and then a dull thud of impact ... it was a rocket launcher firing at their building. there was a roaring blast  as the rocket detonated. the building rumbled and shook beneath them. "Its taking out the main bracing. This whole place is coming down... We're going to have to jump for it."


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## martin321 (Nov 9, 2013)

The roof of the neighbouring building was slightly below their current elevation, and the gap less than ten feet; an easy jump for anyone fit enough, assuming they didn't take a bullet in the process.

A crackling sound from the gate accompanied a shift in appearance, as it began to solidify into the form of a creature. The tracer fire shifted direction and concentrated on the silhouette at the gate's centre.

"Now's our best chance," shouted Michael.


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 9, 2013)

An unearthly voice resounded above the din of rocketfire and carnage. It sheared into Michael's soul and he not only heard it, but felt it's power and the creature's presence. "You cannot dodge your destiny forever, Michael. Decide now, before it's too late. Will you complete the task I assigned you six millenia ago, or should I withdraw the gift I have given you, and your life with it?"  

The gate was now barely visible through the shifting manifestation, dragon-like one moment, humanoid and golden-skinned the next, but the message was undeniable.


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## martin321 (Nov 10, 2013)

Michael skidded to a stop, teetering on the edge of the roof, arms flailing. He turned around slowly and began walking towards the gate as though in a trance, a blank expression on his face.

"No, Michael," shouted the woman. "You mustn't."


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 12, 2013)

Either Michael couldn't hear her or was ignoring her, for he walked directly before the gate, long, ethereal tentacles slipping out of the thing, reaching; light arched between the tentacles as they spread out like great wings about to engulf him. He stood there swaying for a moment, then something changed, his eyes refocused and he pulled back, away from its grasp, turned and threw back the tarp covering what had seemed to be a pile of junk stored on the rooftop. 

The woman's eyes widened as she saw the device, and hope returned, for she had thought Michael lost to her.


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## martin321 (Nov 13, 2013)

He knelt before the device, taking the strange, black disk out of his pocket, the golden butterfly gleaming in the light from the gate. It fitted neatly into a circular indentation on top of the apparatus. He pressed it down, until he heard a click over the sound of the chaotic firing of weapons.

In triumph, he looked up towards the unearthly creature, and just at that moment the front of the building collapsed in a crash of tumbling concrete and masonry.


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 17, 2013)

Sorry, martin321, missed your post somehow. Here we go...

Drea screamed as part of the roof sagged and then collapsed before she could reach the stairwell or jump free to the next building. Michael was momentarily distracted by having remembered her name, but that faded fast as his own section of roof plunged downward. Without thinking, he grabbed hold of the apparatus, as if it could anchor him to the roof, but he knew better; together they fell ten feet to the floor below.


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## martin321 (Nov 18, 2013)

Michael lay on a pile of rubble, groaning. When he opened his eyes, he saw that the apparatus was only ten feet away, covered in dust but otherwise undamaged; he just needed to set the dial and activate it. But as he unsteadily rose to his feet, a winged creature, black as the night and horrible to behold, landed in front of him, blocking his path to the device.


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 18, 2013)

Michael's heart sank. There was no way he could reach the apparatus in time. Then he saw Drea; she was laying crumpled on the floor behind the creature, having struck the edge of a bed on the way to the floor, softening her fall. 

Motioned with her eyes what she intended to do, Michael began backing slowly into the adjacent room, babbling something about the creature's mother.


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## martin321 (Nov 19, 2013)

For some unaccountable reason, the creature seemed to take offense at Michael's comments concerning its parentage. It stood tall, spreading its wings, and hissed through a mouth filled with needle-like teeth. He backed away, feeling for the blade in his pocket.

Behind the creature, Drea crawled towards the device, carefully so as not to disturb the rubble, trying not to make any noise that might attract its attention.


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 21, 2013)

Though Drea was quieter than Michael had thought possible, the creature's keen ears detected her presence and it whirled about and hissed at her; its great wings extending as if it were about to pounce. Michael's blade flashed forward like a thing made of light, embedding deep within the thing's shoulder blade, at the base of its right wing. The creature batted him away instinctively with its wings, the wound's location causing it to wince and stagger forth in pain, it's back now to Drea.


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## martin321 (Nov 22, 2013)

As Michael stumbled backwards, he saw Drea dive towards the device and then fumble with the controls. The winged monstrosity leapt towards him, and the sudden pain from the creature's slashing talons pulled his attention back to the struggle at hand.

Michael stabbed upwards with his blade, trying to reach a vital spot, but the creature deflected the thrust and he managed only a glancing cut. Spots of black ichor splashed down upon him, burning his skin wherever it made contact.


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## jastius (Nov 23, 2013)

a grey nimbus surrounded micheal and the creature , cutting them off from drea. the swirling dull light firmed up and started to pulse with a sullen green glow.. 
from somewhere in the back of micheal's head came the unbidden thought, "_they are starting transportation now the life pod has coalesced..."  _
micheal felt a deep basso thrum through his bones, hurting his teeth and jaw with the vibrations... like standing in front of a giant woofer and feeling the sub--sonic sound wave pulse through him. _"they are locked on.."_ entoned the part of his head that recognized this. _"Yzoliath is going to be pissed..."_
micheal saw drea screaming something at him while she pounded on the outerskin of the pod. The monstrosity before him make a crackling noise that his head informed him was a giggle .. the sharp teeth drooled ichor as the sibilants of the fiends language issued forth."i will eat your heart yet, nightwalker..." it promised...


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## martin321 (Nov 24, 2013)

Through the skin of the pod, he saw Drea pick up the machine and depress the small metal plunger. Energy shimmered around her, tendrils of power twisting out in all directions, but it was too late, as he could already feel the translocation happening. And then with a gut wrenching lurch the pod was elsewhere. The destroyed building was gone; in its place appeared a nightmare vision.


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## Bob Whitely (Nov 26, 2013)

Smoke was rising from great pits all around him. A heavy, ochre haze cast everything in a hellish light, and through the heat and haze distorted atmosphere, Michael could see great beasts lumbering across the plains in the distance, hundreds of feet high; there were smaller, humanoid creatures climbing up the things to ride on their shoulders. 

Something sharp struck him hard on the back of his head and he lurched forward into red sand. As he succumbed to the darkness, he felt a rush of wet on his shoulders and neck.


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## martin321 (Nov 27, 2013)

When Michael came to, he found that he was lying on a large stone slab, his hands and feet secured with leather bonds. The creature from the gate was standing before him; in this world it took the form of a golden humanoid, with arms that ended in writhing tentacles -- where the hands should have been.

"Finally, you wake," it said, in a voice that seemed to echo over the aeons of its existence. "I am disappointed in you, Michael."


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## jastius (Dec 3, 2013)

the si-leth'tor's straying tentacles betrayed his agitation.. _*what have you got with a nervous snake? .. one that doesn't know which way to jump..the only way to stay ahead of them.*_ that knowing voice commented, and if micheal wasn't held in a paralysis field he would have grinned just to infuriate the sauron further.. _*if only i could goad him into chi'thara*_ ...


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## martin321 (Dec 4, 2013)

Michael struggled against the paralysis field and tried to speak, but only a low grunt came out of his mouth. The creature froze for a moment, then  adjusted a dial on one side of the slab, using a single tentacle to turn it; the field slackened slightly.

"Tell Yzoliath," said Michael in a weak voice, "that I did my best. I had the golden butterfly in my possession, and I'd have gained the red dragon too, if you hadn't intervened."


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## Bob Whitely (Dec 6, 2013)

The creature chuckled; the sound seemed to have taken a long journey across a thousand miles of wind pipe to reach its mouth — low and cough-like at first, then louder and rythmic, it's body swaying in the nether breeze. 

"It's too late for excuses, Michael, but if you wish, you can tell Yzoliath yourself when he returns," it started, It's undulating tentacles seemingly incapable of resting, "Till then, you can wait in the worm pit." 

Wrapping tentacles 'round Michael's neck, he hoisted him above the plain and then flung him casually into one of the many slime pits nearby.


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## BetaWolf (Dec 6, 2013)

Michael landed face down in the slime pit with a squish. 

He heard a scratchy voice. "This is my slime pit. Get your own." Pulling himself into a sitting position, he looked around for the origin of the voice. 

"Don't make me repeat myself. The worms, the slime, everything. It's mine!" The speaker was right behind him.


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## martin321 (Dec 6, 2013)

"You're welcome to them," said Michael to the withered old man.

The floor of the pit was covered in a thick, green ooze, with pieces of bone sticking out at crazy angles--previous occupants, or perhaps just lunch. The walls were slimy and slick to the touch, impossible to climb, or so it appeared at first.

As he felt around with his fingers, he detected a slight crack; so maybe there was a way after all.


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## Bob Whitely (Dec 10, 2013)

Even starting to climb was difficult, as the first ten feet of the wall was covered in a thick vasaline-like gel, splashed up from previous nose dives into the goop, Once you got it on your hands, it didn't want to come off. Michael had it all over him after that first hour or so; heck, he was coated in it after the first fall five minutes in. 

The old man would just stand there, waist deep and laugh, criticizing Michael's technique. "Ya damn fool! you're squashin' my worms! I could tell you how to get out, but you won't like the price..."


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## martin321 (Dec 13, 2013)

Half way up the wall, Michael regretted his decision to climb out of the pit. His fingers were numb, and the upper section curved in slightly, creating an overhang. His left foot slipped first, then one hand, then he was falling, falling back down into the pit.

He landed on his back with a loud squelch, in a squirming pile of worms, and the old man laughed, cackling with mirth; he hadn't been so entertained since that time someone had unwisely swallowed a raw worm, discovering soon afterwards that they had sharp teeth.


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## jastius (Dec 15, 2013)

dragging the daggers out his boots, one by one and jamming them into the wall to give better purchase as he climbed, he nodded politely at the older man,"I set my own prices..."
 he swung a knee up to the brim, nearly overbalancing in his attempt...


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## martin321 (Dec 17, 2013)

...but he managed to pull himself out of the pit. Exhausted, he lay on the ground, wondering what to do next. How was he going to escape from this place? His plan was only half formed when, with a rush of fetid air, the black winged monstrosity landed in front of him, teeth bared in a wicked snarl.


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## jastius (Dec 17, 2013)

The old man, following the dagger stairway up out of the pit threw a bucket of toothed worms into the beasts open maw.. the worms immediately attacked like the piranhas they were related to.


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## Bob Whitely (Dec 23, 2013)

The creature howled in pain, it's black wings flailing feebly as it staggered around the lip of the pit, almost knocking both of the humanoids back into its depths. But with surprising dexterity, the old man rolled aside, landing breathlessly, a moment later, laughing at his own cleverness. It was then that Michael realized the old man wasn't human.



[I've missed you guys! Between computer problems, prepping for my Kickstarter and a freelance project, I've been slammed!]


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## jastius (Dec 30, 2013)

the old man kicked  the eaten through husk off of the wings, all that was left of the creature. "here ya go, young'un..." he handed a brace of micheals daggers over to him along with a wing,"press thems litlle bones together like and this thing flaps away.. ye grab at your side and i will do mine, and we be out of here before that oily pore knows we are out of it.." 
Micheal grabbed on with the old man and sure enough the great wings took them high into the air just as an eruption of that oily goo spurted out of the pit. as they drew further away micheal saw that what he had thought was ground, was actually a giant face.


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## martin321 (Jan 4, 2014)

Finally, Michael's arms began to tire, and he looked for somewhere to land. Having spotted a large building in the distance, he twisted towards the old man.

"Let's land over there, by the building. It might contain a translocator."


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## Bob Whitely (Jan 14, 2014)

[OOC]
Hi all, 

As promised, I've been busy - swamped actually, with my anthology Kickstarter (Yay - 46% funded and 20 days to go!), but I look to getting back in the story if you guys haven't moved on already. 

I updated the other thread for the story, but wrote here in case you guys don't check it. I did post some artwork over there that I had commissioned for my Cosmoverse campaign setting. 

If you haven't yet, check out my 
*Arcane Synthesis: A Blended-Genre Anthology* Kickstarter. Thanks! [/OOC]


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## Bob Whitely (Feb 11, 2014)

[OOC] I've got my Kickstarter behind me (and funded, yay!), so time has freed up there, but of course now I need to work on the actual book (and find a day job as I got laid off). What do you guys want to do, continue this storyline or let it slip away and start a new one some other time? I've got another one running on my own site and may reboot an older one as there's been some interest there. I had one running on my site before the Kickstarter and before this one, so I don't know if I can support this regularly, but if you want to continue, I can try. Thoughts? [OOC]


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## martin321 (Feb 11, 2014)

[OOC]Congratulations on the kickstarter. I think  this story has run out of steam. Maybe we can pick it up later if there  is any renewed interest.[OCC]


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