"The ice cream truck?" "The ice cream truck."
So I've been working on writing lately. Hebei and I have a bit of a writing competition going on that I'm intent to win, so hopefully I'll be able to do so. I'd like to point out that I'm much further along with my novel than she is, and as proof, I'm sharing the first chapter with all you LJ peeps! Tell me what you think, give me feedback, ETC.
Jack Barleycorn groaned and opened his eyes. Where was he? Last thing he remember was being in an arctic land, forced to travel with that bastard Grimnor (who, he had to mentally remark, had become even more of a pain in the ass since being infected by the werewolf). He was very much alone right now, though, and it felt to him as if he was floating. Then again, all he could see around him was the blackness that enveloped him, so he wondered if perhaps he wasn't standing.
Or laying down.
Or maybe Grimnor had killed him. That son of a bitch! If that was the case and this was death, he was going to find a way out and haunt the shit out of that half-orc bard and--
"Ah, it seems you are awake," a voice from all around said. Jack frowned.
"Who's there? What the hell is going on?"
There was a long pause and Jack, low on patience, screamed out a few obscenities and demanded answers once more. The voice finally chimed up again with a chuckle. "Easy, now. It seems you're in some sort of suspended state of existence. Think of it like a coma."
"I'm in a coma?" Jack gritted his teeth. "Did Grimnor put me in a coma? I bet it was him. I bet he did it. Or Jarn. Was it Jarn? Did he do it?"
"Uhm," The voice seemed uncertain. "Look, I don't really know the details about that. It just seems like you've been,...inactive for many years, so to speak. But you're not exactly dead."
"FUCKING JARN."
"Yes, exactly. At any rate, I'm here to tell you that all is not lost. You see, I ran across your soul sleeping in the abyss and I've taken the liberty of transporting it to-- you don't happen to be familiar with Edgar Rice Burroughs or the 'John Carter' stories, are you?"
"Is he an elf? I should probably let you know I hate elves."
"Never mind, I thought that might make things easier." There was a sigh and the voice continued. "At any rate, while your original body sleeps, you've gained a new one in a faraway land."
Jack arched an eyebrow. "What was wrong with my old body?"
"Nothing. It's sleeps still, unharmed."
"Yeah, then why didn't you just wake it up and then I could go to this 'faraway land' myself if I wanted?"
"It doesn't work that way."
"Shit."
"You know, you're far less appreciative than I expected. Most men would leap at the chance to live again, even if only in a projected body."
"I still want to know why I'm in a coma. I'm a pretty bad ass martial artist, ok?"
"Look, just listen to me. Your mind has been transported, you're on a new planet, and you're no longer Jack Barleycorn of where ever the hell you're initially from. You understand all that?"
"Who told you my name?"
"Does it really matter?"
"Yes."
"Shut up. From now on, you are Jack Barleycorn of Appaloosa Plains."
Jack blinked. "Of where? Aren't 'Appaloosas' a kind of horse?"
"They are."
"I want a different faraway land. This one sucks."
"Tough beans."
***************************************************************************************
So I finally got around to replacing my old computer with a sleeker, newer, working one. And as I mentioned to hebei, when I did that, I was going to get me a new Sim Map to play around in. Granted, I believe I said this in regards to Lunar Lakes (which admittedly would be a better choice anyhow for a "John Carter"-esque game setup, but you know what? I don't care. I bought me some Sims Pets and there's nothing y'all can do except read along and accept it for what it is).
As my little piece of original fiction indicated, I decided to populate my new world with the transported image of my old D&D Character, Jack Barleycorn. I would still be continuing his adventures today if only fate had allowed it. Sadly, my half-elf monk and his half-orc bard companion seem to have ended their escapades. WELL, YOU CAN JUST FORGET ABOUT THAT, BECAUSE JACK IS STARTING A NEW ADVENTURE IN A NEW FORM.
I decided if I couldn't mimic Jack's outfit or hair in the Sims, I'd dress him like a local. Much to his chagrin, he has lost his tough monk look for that of a local ranch hand. He is not happy about this discovery.
This is the look of a broken man.
Rest assured, he is still quite evil, grumpy, and very much so into stealing things (even if I can't specify soap). But he's not the only one along for the ride...
****************************************************************************************
Jack cursed and ran a hand bitterly through his hair. This was not his body and he didn't care if it was the next best thing to it. Where was his bun? His robes? His sai? Had all that been left behind? What was the point of transporting him but leaving his very essence behind.
Well, perhaps the same fate had befallen Grimnor. He could always laugh at his misery, couldn't he? In fact, the very idea brightened his mood and he pushed himself feet. Crossing the field, he cupped his hand around and called out for the bard. "GRIMNOR! HEY, GRIMNOR!"
"STREEA!" He heard in response, though not in Grimnor's voice. Or in Orcish. Or by a male or an orc at all. Much to Jack's surprise, a woman with dark black skin sat up in the tall grass suddenly, not all that far away from where he'd awakened. And there was only one race he knew with skin that color...
"Drow!" He exclaimed suddenly and pulled back. The woman shot him a nasty glare with yellow eyes.
"You!" she screamed in common, raising up and coming towards him. "What have you done to me?!"
"Hey, easy, Lady. I'm in the same boat as you." Jack held up his hands. The 'drowess' looked him over suspiciously.
"Human? I did not think humans had such power at their disposal!" She glanced up at the sky, shielding her eyes. "And why is it the sun no longer burns me? Have you also done this?"
Jack was about to comment that he was only half human when he noticed that the drowess actually seemed rather human herself. Instinctively, his hand shot to his ears to find them rounded rather than pointy. So this new body was human as well? "I told you, I didn't do anything." Rather this one think he was a full human than know of his half-elven lineage. Jack hated the elves enough as it was; were the drowess to know of his connection to them, it was highly doubtful she'd want to do anything except murder him on the spot. Better to use her to his advantage for the time being than worry about her slitting his throat. "I'm thinking that since the two of us look to be in this together, we might as well work together."
"You think that?" The woman snorted, making it perfectly clear she held herself above him. Jack rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I was, but I'm not anymore."
The drowess folded her arms. "Fine, very well. If only because we are both in this predicament together. I've had to deal with worse for a longer period of time. I can stomach a human briefly."
Jack nodded. "Good." Quite frankly, he felt better having someone else to potentially order around. She was no Grimnor, but she'd have to do. "The names Jack Barleycorn. What's yours?"
The woman hesitated before responding. "Baevyll Torep."
***************************************************************************************
Admittedly, I did debate making a Grimnor Sim to join in the merriment, but as I didn't create him, I wouldn't want to use him without permission. :X Instead, y'all get Baevyll, my drow cleric from my college D&D campaigns. Like Jack, she's evil, hates elves, and generally is up to no good. So by default, I had to dress her humiliatingly too.
YUP, NOTHING SAYS "APPALOOSA PLAINS" LIKE A KITTY SWEATSHIRT. In Baevyll's case, I could pretty much recreate her physically (short of pitch black skin), but I didn't bother with the clothing. Not when there are such gems as kitty sweatshirts at my disposal (there are also horse ones; all we need is a wolf in the moonlight howling and I'll be set for life).
"What's wrong with spiders? Why can't I have a spider shirt?"
************************************************************************************
"Are you sure there's a house somewhere around here?" Jack griped, wiping the sweat from his eyes. He and Baevyll had been walking for what seemed like hours and neither were eager to say much of anything beyond complaints to one another. Baevyll responded plainly.
"I was told by the voice in the void that there would be accommodations provided. I suspect the elves are behind this mockery, though I'm not entirely certain where you fit in. There was no mention of another here."
"For the record, I hate the elves as much as you," Jack held up a finger. "So maybe we can slaughter them all when I'm back in my original body." He'd been dragging his feet; maybe this drowess was the kick-start he needed. "You know, work together."
Baevyll stopped and looked Jack square in the eye. "Listen well, human. I'm only working with you for now because of-"
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers, joining the conversation. Both Jack and Baevyll looked to the creature.
"A cat?" Jack wondered aloud. Baevyll took its collar in hand and examined it.
"Your cat, apparently."
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers.
"My cat?" Jack half-scoffed. "How the hell is that thing my cat?"
"Your name is on its collar." Jack followed the woman's finger to note that indeed, it was.
"...why the hell would I own a cat?" As if the idea of being transported in a new body to a far away land with a drow wasn't confusing enough already, he'd been given a cat as well? Baevyll didn't seem as bothered by this.
"We can use this to our advantage," She said and looked back to the creature. "Do you know the way to go home, Cat?"
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers and began to walk off.
"If it's your cat and we are meant to find our accommodation, it will lead us there," she explained simply, following behind. Jack frowned.
*****************************************************************************************
So yeah, it wouldn't be Sims Pets if I didn't get to play around with pets. I decided to take it easy and start with a cat, though there is the option to start with horses and dogs too.
"Meow."
Mr. Whiskers is a bundle of energy and...well, scratching. Seriously. That's all he does. He just wakes up, eats, and scratches. I made him aggressive in the hopes that he'd just attack Jack and Baevyll whenever they walked by as a means of spicing things up, but he's a friendly aggressive, I guess. At least he's in the habit of destroying the paper every morning.
Also, I don't know if this was because it was a new game/thought I wanted tutorial, but I didn't get to build my own house. I had to move Jack and Baevyll into a pre-existing one (which is fine for now, as it serves my purposes), but I hope there actually ARE empty lots to develop in Appaloosa Plains and for some reason they just weren't coming up. :X
Ah! The perfect yard for that horse they totally own!
****************************************************************************************
Jack and Baevyll passed an uneventful and distant night within the walls of their new home. They found some amusement in the box of colors and sounds, but conversation was little. Both were simply eager to get this strange experience over with. Jack wondered if he didn't have the right to just kick her out of his house, seeing at the cat and subsequent address on the collar were only for him. He thought better of it, though, remembering that Baevyll was a drow and drow women were surprisingly skilled at killing elves, men, and elfin men.
Everything about this is awkward.
He wondered where Grimnor might be and if he slept as Jack allegedly did. If he didn't, Jack was going to find out and see it that he did, because he sure as shit wasn't going to be the only one in a goddamn coma. But that could wait until the morning...
Come the morning, Jack made a quick survey of his property. It seemed he had quite the field for...well, he had quite the field behind a fence, anyway. He also seemed to live along side a road. Perhaps if he followed the road, he would find his way to someone who could tell him how to get back to lands he knew and maybe somewhere with soap, as the house had very little to offer.
He began heading back to the residence to stock up on the items he felt he would need when he was nearly trampled by a pair of horses and a wild dog, running rampant down the street. It seems somethings were all too familiar.
"Stupid horses," He muttered as he entered the house.
"What horses?" Baevyll inquired, being no more than a few feet from him. Jack blinked, as he had expected her to be, well, somewhere else.
"The ones out front."
"Are they yours as well?" Baevyll folded her arms. "I should think if we're to get out of here, horses might come in handy."
Jack stared back at the woman, then waved her off. "If you want the horses, you get them yourself. I have better things to do."
Baevyll glowered. "Perhaps I will, but if I manage to subjugate one, I'm leaving and I'm not taking you with me."
Jack shrugged. "Fine by me."
...suffice to say, Baevyll did not succeed.
While Baevyll learned the hard way that she was not the Horse Whisperer, Jack debated what supplies he would take with him. It was as he took stock of the food supplies that he heard it.
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers, peering down ominously from the counter top.
"What now?" Jack glared.
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers and suddenly the fridge slammed shut, nearly taking Jack's fingers with it.
"What the hell?" Jack pulled back in shock and turned to the cat.
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers once more. "You're not going anywhere."
"What? You can talk?" Jack's eyes went wide. "And what do you mean by that?!"
The cat purred invitingly. "You and the woman are my playthings. This is my world. You aren't going anywhere until I say you are."
Jack gritted his teeth. So, the cat could use magic, huh? Well, how much help would his magic be once Jack got his hands on him? He lunged at Mr. Whiskers, who nimbly avoided the attack and slid out the door.
"GET BACK HERE!" Jack cried, running after the feline. "I'M ON TO YOU!"
"You'll never stop me, Jack. Even if you do somehow manage to catch me."
"What the hell are you doing to that cat?" Baevyll yelled over from under the hooves of the horse trampling her.
"He's not a cat!" Jack screamed back.
"Yes, I am, Jack," said Mr. Whiskers. "Meow."
Then, to the cat's surprise, Jack scooped him into his arms.
"How did you do that?" asked the bewildered creature.
"I'm a monk," Jack explained. "My dexterity is high."
"Yes, but you weren't supposed to succeed," said the cat. "Try again." At that, he bit Jack's hand. Jack held tight, despite the pain. "No, no," said Mr. Whiskers, becoming frustrated. "You can't hold on to me."
"But I am," Jack said.
"No, now I'm scratching you," Mr. Whiskers insisted, using Jack's upper arms and chest as a emery board. "See? You need to drop me now."
But Jack held tight. "Why?"
"Because you're just not supposed to win!"
"Looks like I did," said Jack calmly and walked back into the house with the cat.
"What are you going to do?" hissed the cat. "Even if you kill me, you won't get out of here!"
"We'll just see about that," said Jack and shoved Mr. Whiskers into the fridge's vegetable crisper. "We'll see how helpful you're feeling in a few hours."
.........in a few hours, the cat was dead. Jack was out of luck.
By 8 am the next morning, Whiskers was back, alive once more, and seemingly just a normal cat. Jack wasn't convinced, but Baevyll was having none of it. It seemed whatever entity had been in Mr. Whisker's body was now gone and they were back to where they started.
Jack was frustrated. Baevyll wasn't too happy either.
"I miss our world of dungeons and dragons."
"I wish I'd never been transported here," Jack growled one evening as the pair watched TV, one of the few activities they shared interest in. "If only there was some way to go back to being in my dumb coma."
"We could always try pissing off the powers that be," Baevyll suggested. "Maybe they'll be so offended, they'll will us back into nothingness."
"Any idea on how to do that?"
"No."
Jack thought a moment before a Grinchy idea came into his head.
"...you know, there is one thing I can think of," Jack began and glanced mischievously towards Baevyll.
"And what is that?" Baevyll was skeptical.
"What if we did something to really upset the natural order of things? You know, the unthinkable?"
"I'm not sure I follow."
Jack caught Baevyll's eye. Baevyll stared back, half disgusted by the gleam she saw in the other. She already knew where this was going. "No."
"Think about it," Jack said, throwing his arm around her shoulder. "We'd REALLY show them if we just go into the other room and--"
"UGH! I'd rather sleep with an elf!" Baevyll exclaimed, pushing Jack off her.
Things might have gotten awkward, had Jack not run away immediately following that confrontation.
Run away... TO THE ICE CREAM TRUCK!
Yes, there was nothing the magical ice cream truck couldn't fix. Even Baevyll felt the anger that had welled up inside her disappear as she approached the strange and magical vehicle. Neither had any knowledge of what an ice cream truck actually was, but it's enchanting tune drew forth feelings of childhood giddiness within them. The language of the truck was universal and the joy its frosted treats brought had no equal.
Jack didn't know why, but a fudgesicle was all it took to make this crazy transported world not seem so bad anymore.
I could have lightened this, ladyuranus, since you always whine about the darkness in these screenshots, but it wouldn't look as menacing then.
Baevyll was similarly bribed with a bunny shaped delicacy. Perhaps "Appaloosa Plains" was worth another shot. The pair ate their ice cream in silence before returning to the house. They said nothing to one another about the events that had transpired until a loud "bang" was heard outside.
"What was that?" Baevyll inquired, peering out the window. "Perhaps another stampede of horses?"
"At night?" Jack was doubtful. Probably wolves. Except there were no howls. Odd.
"There's garbage all over the ground." Baevyll noted.
"Fuck it," Jack said.
"Oh, it's a raccoon," Baevyll said, pointing. "Awwwww."
"A raccoon?" Jack perked up at that. "I love raccoons!"
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers.
"No, fuck you, you demon cat," Jack was out the door in a heart beat, intent on making a new friend.
The raccoon did not feel similarly.
So anyhow, that's the first chapter of my novel as it is so far. Would you guys like to read more or nah?
Jack Barleycorn groaned and opened his eyes. Where was he? Last thing he remember was being in an arctic land, forced to travel with that bastard Grimnor (who, he had to mentally remark, had become even more of a pain in the ass since being infected by the werewolf). He was very much alone right now, though, and it felt to him as if he was floating. Then again, all he could see around him was the blackness that enveloped him, so he wondered if perhaps he wasn't standing.
Or laying down.
Or maybe Grimnor had killed him. That son of a bitch! If that was the case and this was death, he was going to find a way out and haunt the shit out of that half-orc bard and--
"Ah, it seems you are awake," a voice from all around said. Jack frowned.
"Who's there? What the hell is going on?"
There was a long pause and Jack, low on patience, screamed out a few obscenities and demanded answers once more. The voice finally chimed up again with a chuckle. "Easy, now. It seems you're in some sort of suspended state of existence. Think of it like a coma."
"I'm in a coma?" Jack gritted his teeth. "Did Grimnor put me in a coma? I bet it was him. I bet he did it. Or Jarn. Was it Jarn? Did he do it?"
"Uhm," The voice seemed uncertain. "Look, I don't really know the details about that. It just seems like you've been,...inactive for many years, so to speak. But you're not exactly dead."
"FUCKING JARN."
"Yes, exactly. At any rate, I'm here to tell you that all is not lost. You see, I ran across your soul sleeping in the abyss and I've taken the liberty of transporting it to-- you don't happen to be familiar with Edgar Rice Burroughs or the 'John Carter' stories, are you?"
"Is he an elf? I should probably let you know I hate elves."
"Never mind, I thought that might make things easier." There was a sigh and the voice continued. "At any rate, while your original body sleeps, you've gained a new one in a faraway land."
Jack arched an eyebrow. "What was wrong with my old body?"
"Nothing. It's sleeps still, unharmed."
"Yeah, then why didn't you just wake it up and then I could go to this 'faraway land' myself if I wanted?"
"It doesn't work that way."
"Shit."
"You know, you're far less appreciative than I expected. Most men would leap at the chance to live again, even if only in a projected body."
"I still want to know why I'm in a coma. I'm a pretty bad ass martial artist, ok?"
"Look, just listen to me. Your mind has been transported, you're on a new planet, and you're no longer Jack Barleycorn of where ever the hell you're initially from. You understand all that?"
"Who told you my name?"
"Does it really matter?"
"Yes."
"Shut up. From now on, you are Jack Barleycorn of Appaloosa Plains."
Jack blinked. "Of where? Aren't 'Appaloosas' a kind of horse?"
"They are."
"I want a different faraway land. This one sucks."
"Tough beans."
***************************************************************************************
So I finally got around to replacing my old computer with a sleeker, newer, working one. And as I mentioned to hebei, when I did that, I was going to get me a new Sim Map to play around in. Granted, I believe I said this in regards to Lunar Lakes (which admittedly would be a better choice anyhow for a "John Carter"-esque game setup, but you know what? I don't care. I bought me some Sims Pets and there's nothing y'all can do except read along and accept it for what it is).
As my little piece of original fiction indicated, I decided to populate my new world with the transported image of my old D&D Character, Jack Barleycorn. I would still be continuing his adventures today if only fate had allowed it. Sadly, my half-elf monk and his half-orc bard companion seem to have ended their escapades. WELL, YOU CAN JUST FORGET ABOUT THAT, BECAUSE JACK IS STARTING A NEW ADVENTURE IN A NEW FORM.
I decided if I couldn't mimic Jack's outfit or hair in the Sims, I'd dress him like a local. Much to his chagrin, he has lost his tough monk look for that of a local ranch hand. He is not happy about this discovery.
This is the look of a broken man.
Rest assured, he is still quite evil, grumpy, and very much so into stealing things (even if I can't specify soap). But he's not the only one along for the ride...
****************************************************************************************
Jack cursed and ran a hand bitterly through his hair. This was not his body and he didn't care if it was the next best thing to it. Where was his bun? His robes? His sai? Had all that been left behind? What was the point of transporting him but leaving his very essence behind.
Well, perhaps the same fate had befallen Grimnor. He could always laugh at his misery, couldn't he? In fact, the very idea brightened his mood and he pushed himself feet. Crossing the field, he cupped his hand around and called out for the bard. "GRIMNOR! HEY, GRIMNOR!"
"STREEA!" He heard in response, though not in Grimnor's voice. Or in Orcish. Or by a male or an orc at all. Much to Jack's surprise, a woman with dark black skin sat up in the tall grass suddenly, not all that far away from where he'd awakened. And there was only one race he knew with skin that color...
"Drow!" He exclaimed suddenly and pulled back. The woman shot him a nasty glare with yellow eyes.
"You!" she screamed in common, raising up and coming towards him. "What have you done to me?!"
"Hey, easy, Lady. I'm in the same boat as you." Jack held up his hands. The 'drowess' looked him over suspiciously.
"Human? I did not think humans had such power at their disposal!" She glanced up at the sky, shielding her eyes. "And why is it the sun no longer burns me? Have you also done this?"
Jack was about to comment that he was only half human when he noticed that the drowess actually seemed rather human herself. Instinctively, his hand shot to his ears to find them rounded rather than pointy. So this new body was human as well? "I told you, I didn't do anything." Rather this one think he was a full human than know of his half-elven lineage. Jack hated the elves enough as it was; were the drowess to know of his connection to them, it was highly doubtful she'd want to do anything except murder him on the spot. Better to use her to his advantage for the time being than worry about her slitting his throat. "I'm thinking that since the two of us look to be in this together, we might as well work together."
"You think that?" The woman snorted, making it perfectly clear she held herself above him. Jack rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I was, but I'm not anymore."
The drowess folded her arms. "Fine, very well. If only because we are both in this predicament together. I've had to deal with worse for a longer period of time. I can stomach a human briefly."
Jack nodded. "Good." Quite frankly, he felt better having someone else to potentially order around. She was no Grimnor, but she'd have to do. "The names Jack Barleycorn. What's yours?"
The woman hesitated before responding. "Baevyll Torep."
***************************************************************************************
Admittedly, I did debate making a Grimnor Sim to join in the merriment, but as I didn't create him, I wouldn't want to use him without permission. :X Instead, y'all get Baevyll, my drow cleric from my college D&D campaigns. Like Jack, she's evil, hates elves, and generally is up to no good. So by default, I had to dress her humiliatingly too.
YUP, NOTHING SAYS "APPALOOSA PLAINS" LIKE A KITTY SWEATSHIRT. In Baevyll's case, I could pretty much recreate her physically (short of pitch black skin), but I didn't bother with the clothing. Not when there are such gems as kitty sweatshirts at my disposal (there are also horse ones; all we need is a wolf in the moonlight howling and I'll be set for life).
"What's wrong with spiders? Why can't I have a spider shirt?"
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"Are you sure there's a house somewhere around here?" Jack griped, wiping the sweat from his eyes. He and Baevyll had been walking for what seemed like hours and neither were eager to say much of anything beyond complaints to one another. Baevyll responded plainly.
"I was told by the voice in the void that there would be accommodations provided. I suspect the elves are behind this mockery, though I'm not entirely certain where you fit in. There was no mention of another here."
"For the record, I hate the elves as much as you," Jack held up a finger. "So maybe we can slaughter them all when I'm back in my original body." He'd been dragging his feet; maybe this drowess was the kick-start he needed. "You know, work together."
Baevyll stopped and looked Jack square in the eye. "Listen well, human. I'm only working with you for now because of-"
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers, joining the conversation. Both Jack and Baevyll looked to the creature.
"A cat?" Jack wondered aloud. Baevyll took its collar in hand and examined it.
"Your cat, apparently."
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers.
"My cat?" Jack half-scoffed. "How the hell is that thing my cat?"
"Your name is on its collar." Jack followed the woman's finger to note that indeed, it was.
"...why the hell would I own a cat?" As if the idea of being transported in a new body to a far away land with a drow wasn't confusing enough already, he'd been given a cat as well? Baevyll didn't seem as bothered by this.
"We can use this to our advantage," She said and looked back to the creature. "Do you know the way to go home, Cat?"
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers and began to walk off.
"If it's your cat and we are meant to find our accommodation, it will lead us there," she explained simply, following behind. Jack frowned.
*****************************************************************************************
So yeah, it wouldn't be Sims Pets if I didn't get to play around with pets. I decided to take it easy and start with a cat, though there is the option to start with horses and dogs too.
"Meow."
Mr. Whiskers is a bundle of energy and...well, scratching. Seriously. That's all he does. He just wakes up, eats, and scratches. I made him aggressive in the hopes that he'd just attack Jack and Baevyll whenever they walked by as a means of spicing things up, but he's a friendly aggressive, I guess. At least he's in the habit of destroying the paper every morning.
Also, I don't know if this was because it was a new game/thought I wanted tutorial, but I didn't get to build my own house. I had to move Jack and Baevyll into a pre-existing one (which is fine for now, as it serves my purposes), but I hope there actually ARE empty lots to develop in Appaloosa Plains and for some reason they just weren't coming up. :X
Ah! The perfect yard for that horse they totally own!
****************************************************************************************
Jack and Baevyll passed an uneventful and distant night within the walls of their new home. They found some amusement in the box of colors and sounds, but conversation was little. Both were simply eager to get this strange experience over with. Jack wondered if he didn't have the right to just kick her out of his house, seeing at the cat and subsequent address on the collar were only for him. He thought better of it, though, remembering that Baevyll was a drow and drow women were surprisingly skilled at killing elves, men, and elfin men.
Everything about this is awkward.
He wondered where Grimnor might be and if he slept as Jack allegedly did. If he didn't, Jack was going to find out and see it that he did, because he sure as shit wasn't going to be the only one in a goddamn coma. But that could wait until the morning...
Come the morning, Jack made a quick survey of his property. It seemed he had quite the field for...well, he had quite the field behind a fence, anyway. He also seemed to live along side a road. Perhaps if he followed the road, he would find his way to someone who could tell him how to get back to lands he knew and maybe somewhere with soap, as the house had very little to offer.
He began heading back to the residence to stock up on the items he felt he would need when he was nearly trampled by a pair of horses and a wild dog, running rampant down the street. It seems somethings were all too familiar.
"Stupid horses," He muttered as he entered the house.
"What horses?" Baevyll inquired, being no more than a few feet from him. Jack blinked, as he had expected her to be, well, somewhere else.
"The ones out front."
"Are they yours as well?" Baevyll folded her arms. "I should think if we're to get out of here, horses might come in handy."
Jack stared back at the woman, then waved her off. "If you want the horses, you get them yourself. I have better things to do."
Baevyll glowered. "Perhaps I will, but if I manage to subjugate one, I'm leaving and I'm not taking you with me."
Jack shrugged. "Fine by me."
...suffice to say, Baevyll did not succeed.
While Baevyll learned the hard way that she was not the Horse Whisperer, Jack debated what supplies he would take with him. It was as he took stock of the food supplies that he heard it.
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers, peering down ominously from the counter top.
"What now?" Jack glared.
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers and suddenly the fridge slammed shut, nearly taking Jack's fingers with it.
"What the hell?" Jack pulled back in shock and turned to the cat.
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers once more. "You're not going anywhere."
"What? You can talk?" Jack's eyes went wide. "And what do you mean by that?!"
The cat purred invitingly. "You and the woman are my playthings. This is my world. You aren't going anywhere until I say you are."
Jack gritted his teeth. So, the cat could use magic, huh? Well, how much help would his magic be once Jack got his hands on him? He lunged at Mr. Whiskers, who nimbly avoided the attack and slid out the door.
"GET BACK HERE!" Jack cried, running after the feline. "I'M ON TO YOU!"
"You'll never stop me, Jack. Even if you do somehow manage to catch me."
"What the hell are you doing to that cat?" Baevyll yelled over from under the hooves of the horse trampling her.
"He's not a cat!" Jack screamed back.
"Yes, I am, Jack," said Mr. Whiskers. "Meow."
Then, to the cat's surprise, Jack scooped him into his arms.
"How did you do that?" asked the bewildered creature.
"I'm a monk," Jack explained. "My dexterity is high."
"Yes, but you weren't supposed to succeed," said the cat. "Try again." At that, he bit Jack's hand. Jack held tight, despite the pain. "No, no," said Mr. Whiskers, becoming frustrated. "You can't hold on to me."
"But I am," Jack said.
"No, now I'm scratching you," Mr. Whiskers insisted, using Jack's upper arms and chest as a emery board. "See? You need to drop me now."
But Jack held tight. "Why?"
"Because you're just not supposed to win!"
"Looks like I did," said Jack calmly and walked back into the house with the cat.
"What are you going to do?" hissed the cat. "Even if you kill me, you won't get out of here!"
"We'll just see about that," said Jack and shoved Mr. Whiskers into the fridge's vegetable crisper. "We'll see how helpful you're feeling in a few hours."
.........in a few hours, the cat was dead. Jack was out of luck.
By 8 am the next morning, Whiskers was back, alive once more, and seemingly just a normal cat. Jack wasn't convinced, but Baevyll was having none of it. It seemed whatever entity had been in Mr. Whisker's body was now gone and they were back to where they started.
Jack was frustrated. Baevyll wasn't too happy either.
"I miss our world of dungeons and dragons."
"I wish I'd never been transported here," Jack growled one evening as the pair watched TV, one of the few activities they shared interest in. "If only there was some way to go back to being in my dumb coma."
"We could always try pissing off the powers that be," Baevyll suggested. "Maybe they'll be so offended, they'll will us back into nothingness."
"Any idea on how to do that?"
"No."
Jack thought a moment before a Grinchy idea came into his head.
"...you know, there is one thing I can think of," Jack began and glanced mischievously towards Baevyll.
"And what is that?" Baevyll was skeptical.
"What if we did something to really upset the natural order of things? You know, the unthinkable?"
"I'm not sure I follow."
Jack caught Baevyll's eye. Baevyll stared back, half disgusted by the gleam she saw in the other. She already knew where this was going. "No."
"Think about it," Jack said, throwing his arm around her shoulder. "We'd REALLY show them if we just go into the other room and--"
"UGH! I'd rather sleep with an elf!" Baevyll exclaimed, pushing Jack off her.
Things might have gotten awkward, had Jack not run away immediately following that confrontation.
Run away... TO THE ICE CREAM TRUCK!
Yes, there was nothing the magical ice cream truck couldn't fix. Even Baevyll felt the anger that had welled up inside her disappear as she approached the strange and magical vehicle. Neither had any knowledge of what an ice cream truck actually was, but it's enchanting tune drew forth feelings of childhood giddiness within them. The language of the truck was universal and the joy its frosted treats brought had no equal.
Jack didn't know why, but a fudgesicle was all it took to make this crazy transported world not seem so bad anymore.
I could have lightened this, ladyuranus, since you always whine about the darkness in these screenshots, but it wouldn't look as menacing then.
Baevyll was similarly bribed with a bunny shaped delicacy. Perhaps "Appaloosa Plains" was worth another shot. The pair ate their ice cream in silence before returning to the house. They said nothing to one another about the events that had transpired until a loud "bang" was heard outside.
"What was that?" Baevyll inquired, peering out the window. "Perhaps another stampede of horses?"
"At night?" Jack was doubtful. Probably wolves. Except there were no howls. Odd.
"There's garbage all over the ground." Baevyll noted.
"Fuck it," Jack said.
"Oh, it's a raccoon," Baevyll said, pointing. "Awwwww."
"A raccoon?" Jack perked up at that. "I love raccoons!"
"Meow," said Mr. Whiskers.
"No, fuck you, you demon cat," Jack was out the door in a heart beat, intent on making a new friend.
The raccoon did not feel similarly.
So anyhow, that's the first chapter of my novel as it is so far. Would you guys like to read more or nah?