Wormholes... or something.
[OOC: Disregard the previous post. I have been educated!]
Fell through another wormhole today. This morning. Evening. Yesterday. Can't even tell anymore. This planet doesn't have a night or day.
The wormhole hurt, shooting pains through my legs and torso. When I came to I vomited up the bread that I'd managed to inhale before the 'hole caught me up in its swirl. Must be in a new universe. The 'holes that pull you through the veil are the ones that get you in the gut.
After cleaning myself up, I looked around. This planet... can't really call it a world seeing as there's little to no flora and fauna, and I've encountered no inhabitants... this planet is harsh. Stark. Sand and stone as far as the eye can see. There's a few scraggly clumps of grass sprouting from the white sand, scattered about, a half-hearted attempt.
I tried eating the roots of one after about ten hours. They taste of sand, and time, and bitterness. Also, they're impossible to keep down.
That's the trouble with this body of mine. Don't need much food, but damned if my metabolism doesn't make it seem as if I do. My stomach feels like a clenched fist. I know I'll be fine; I've got some nutritional tabs that I'm saving. But it hurts like a bitch.
Tried to find a settlement, a change in climate, a hill, anything. Failed to locate any shift or change in environment.
Shit.
Can't even tell how big the place is. Marked out a starting point with a stain and a flag, used my compass to walk straight. Turned around after about eight hours. Either my compass is fucked, or the sands covered the stain and the winds stole the flag. Couldn't find them anywhere.
So I've found me a nice flat rock, white, like the rest of this damned planet, and I'm unpacking. Got some pretty useful stuff in this bag. Hooked up an early 21st century cell phone (picked it up when one of the 'holes dropped me in New Zealand. Remind me to tell you about that, sometime.) to a 23rd century locator. Jury-rigged an air-elemental pendant in there, just in case. Sometimes, a man needs to know a little about what the future holds.
Along with a couple other bits and bobs, I've got myself a working, if not sophisticated, distress signal. Should beam at a frequency passing ships can pick up. Though, I'm not sure what time or 'verse I'm in, so that might not be the case.
Well, all that's left now is to lie back with the headset on, watch the never-changing black sky, and wait.
Signing off,
Reaper
Fell through another wormhole today. This morning. Evening. Yesterday. Can't even tell anymore. This planet doesn't have a night or day.
The wormhole hurt, shooting pains through my legs and torso. When I came to I vomited up the bread that I'd managed to inhale before the 'hole caught me up in its swirl. Must be in a new universe. The 'holes that pull you through the veil are the ones that get you in the gut.
After cleaning myself up, I looked around. This planet... can't really call it a world seeing as there's little to no flora and fauna, and I've encountered no inhabitants... this planet is harsh. Stark. Sand and stone as far as the eye can see. There's a few scraggly clumps of grass sprouting from the white sand, scattered about, a half-hearted attempt.
I tried eating the roots of one after about ten hours. They taste of sand, and time, and bitterness. Also, they're impossible to keep down.
That's the trouble with this body of mine. Don't need much food, but damned if my metabolism doesn't make it seem as if I do. My stomach feels like a clenched fist. I know I'll be fine; I've got some nutritional tabs that I'm saving. But it hurts like a bitch.
Tried to find a settlement, a change in climate, a hill, anything. Failed to locate any shift or change in environment.
Shit.
Can't even tell how big the place is. Marked out a starting point with a stain and a flag, used my compass to walk straight. Turned around after about eight hours. Either my compass is fucked, or the sands covered the stain and the winds stole the flag. Couldn't find them anywhere.
So I've found me a nice flat rock, white, like the rest of this damned planet, and I'm unpacking. Got some pretty useful stuff in this bag. Hooked up an early 21st century cell phone (picked it up when one of the 'holes dropped me in New Zealand. Remind me to tell you about that, sometime.) to a 23rd century locator. Jury-rigged an air-elemental pendant in there, just in case. Sometimes, a man needs to know a little about what the future holds.
Along with a couple other bits and bobs, I've got myself a working, if not sophisticated, distress signal. Should beam at a frequency passing ships can pick up. Though, I'm not sure what time or 'verse I'm in, so that might not be the case.
Well, all that's left now is to lie back with the headset on, watch the never-changing black sky, and wait.
Signing off,
Reaper