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[TheBiggerFish]

((Woah.))

[Salsacookies]

I try to shake the headache by sitting down and breathing. While doing so, I observe the alien location I've been ported to, and wave towards those of my "clan", I suppose. I guess they are now, for a moment.

[TheBiggerFish]

Hey look, it appears as though there's a sand thing approaching you.  It waves.

"Ahem.  Did you just have an existential crisis?"

[Salsacookies]

(Are you talking to me?)

[TheBiggerFish]

((Yes.))

[ATHATH]

In!

I'll make a character sheet if I ever get to the front of the waitlist.

[Draignean]

The Madman

"What in the... I..."

He's probably still worth pulling back up, if possible.

   The one who you used to see as your nephew, who you can still remember playing with Lyla in the deepshade of Yamimas' planting cavern, doesn't take your hand. Instead he shifts into a more natural sitting position, seeming to ignore you, the stranger creature he's attached to, and the whirling pattern of dust that the Earthbrother makes beside him.
    [2] Something streaks above you in the sky, but your reflexes are caught between two worlds: the one in which you've lived here all your days, and the one in which you only came into existence a moment ago.


The Blank

I try to shake the headache by sitting down and breathing. While doing so, I observe the alien location I've been ported to, and wave towards those of my "clan", I suppose. I guess they are now, for a moment.

   Sand, endless sand. You try to calm your breathing, to steady your pounding heart enough to slip back into the calm place where Hakan, they man you were as of a few moments ago, was so very comfortable.  [1] Trying to open up the memories is like trying to remember a dream, every time you approach a detail, the beginning of a thread, it unravels into something that can't possibly be true, an impossible revelation. You remember things about this place, but you're also absolutely certain that you've never been here before.
   From the strict standpoint of what you can see, you're on the top of a low ridge, likely a natural geologic feature that has accumulated a crest of the same red-black sand that covers everything. The Yomimas clan holding is, from the outside, little more than several upthrust spars of tawny stone. You know there are many chambers deeper within, memories of places that don't seem possible, but the outside is desolate. On the horizon you can see mountains in the distance to the west, but in all other directions your vision is interrupted by long dunes. The only notable detail you catch is a glimmer of silver on the northern horizon, a flash of reflected metal that brings out a reflexive urge to spit in Hakan's memory.

You raise a hand, waving to your approaching clansmen. The wave of sand the group is riding does not slow, but one of the group raises a spear, butt up, in acknowledgement. An action of concern, not of hostility.

[TheBiggerFish]

Also, what can we see?

[Draignean]

The Many-Machine

Also, what can we see?

    Your myriad eyes pick up a thousand different details, most of which are classified as unimportant. Around you is desert, black and red sand stretching off in all direction in long, sweeping dunes. Outcroppings of tawny rocks break the monotony here and there, and the Yomimas are built into a one such monolithic outcropping. Two suns are high in the sky, and a third seems near setting. To the west are the vague impressions of mountains, but your collective vision is limited at that range. The group of clansmen that approaches you number five, and all of them carry long spears with triangular heads.
    More interesting to you are the threads of light that represent the things that you had briefly thought of as the children of the Mother. There are hundreds of bright lines running though the sand, and despite how clear the air feels, you can see twisting motes of them strung through the air. The last greatstorm cast many of the lights up into the upper air, and you can still see them hanging there, their tiny bodies extended in order to absorb the punishing rays of the three suns.  The group that approaches you rides a wave of light, a large and powerful entity that outclasses you severely in terms of size and probable power- yet you detect no hostility from anything around you.

[TheBiggerFish]

What of the people?  And are we of the same as these other motes?

[Draignean]

The Many-Machine

What of the people?  And are we of the same as these other motes?

   The people that approach are of the same kind as the two that you travel with, tall, lean, and weathered by the elements. Their skin is a deep, burnt color, streaked in places with the same reddish tints as run through the sand. There are more of your kind inside of them, more of the children that live inside them and flow throughout their veins. Mother Earth is all that allows life to grow here- without her blessings the heat and light outside of their clan hold would kill them in hours.
   The other motes, the other children of the mother, they are composed of particles that are identical to you. You can feel them, see them in ways that the humans are blind to, but you are not the same as them. You are cut off from deep communion, from your connection to the Earth Mother. Though, considering your current fracture in identity, that is perhaps fortunate. The Mother, whatever she is, would undoubtedly have sensed your division. The other children that surround you are innumerable, as massive as the sand through which they move, while you are only composed of a few trillion units, perhaps fifteen pounds of material when gathered together.

[Salsacookies]

I stand up, and begin walking towards the welcome party. I ask them how have thing been since I left.

[lawastooshort]

((oh goodness me Draignean, please add me to the waitlist))

[TheBiggerFish]

Sort of generically follow?

[FallacyofUrist]

Look to the sky. Try to figure out what's going on.