Roleplaying + Aliens
She finds the aliens out by the garbage bins. They don’t look like E.T., and they aren’t little green or grey dudes with big triangular eyes, either. There’s a swarm of them, winged and armored, tiny. Adorable, if she’s being honest. Terrifying, if she’s being more honest.
They make mental contact with her almost immediately. It is the most confusing experience of her life, and that life included a drug trip in college and a stint volunteering for a political campaign, so that was really saying something.
She staggers back, dropping the recycling, trying to understand the buzzhumthrob of information suddenly flooding her brain. Eighty or a hundred voices speaking just out of phase with one another - no, not speakng. Not voices. Feeling things. Things she doesn’t even have words for. And then they snap-click into unison and clarity.
Ah. Speech centers located. Apologies for any discomfort.
The voice is clear enough in her mind, but still not pleasant. She tries to focus her thoughts, but there’s just too much in her head. She wants to know so many things. What do they want? Who - no, what - are they? Why is this happening? But mostly she wants them to be quiet.
She can feel her mind being moved. The scent of lavender suddenly assaults her senses and she squeezes her eyes shut tightly. She has always hated lavender. It is replaced with the scent of freshly baked bread and she relaxes a tiny bit more.
Then her mind shifts again, this time to a memory, and a recent one at that - she is sitting in bed across from her boyfriend, the cat between them pretending to be the focus of their attention. They are all pretending, though. She is spinning out a world for him, and he is pretending to be in it. He is laughing, and she is smiling, and then there is an intense inquisitiveness in her head. Intruding on the scene.
What are - were - you doing? We do not understand.
She lowers herself to the stoop so she won’t fall down, and carefully tries to marshal her thoughts and find language again. The words in her mind are slow, halting. She’s trying to be careful, and she’s still scared.
I was relaxing with a loved one. Playing a game. I describe an imaginary world and the things and people in it, and he pretends to be a person in that world. Immersive storytelling. Playing pretend, basically. But sometimes with dice.
Surprise. Elation. Some dismay. The voices, when they come again, are more dissonant.
You engage / play / participate in this ritual / ceremony / creation / event. You are not base beasts / simple meat machines / giant destructive mammaloids.
She frowns. Is this swarm some kind of invasion force? Having that idea seems to alarm and upset the tiny things more. The swarm itself condenses and buzzes, and she feels their dismay growing in her mind.
Explorers. Scouts. Not invading! Just looking for the highest forms of life.
She has a splitting headache now, and soon he’ll be looking for her.
We intend no harm. Apologies, again.
And then they’re gone from her mind. Completely. To do otherwise would be to do harm, and that is not why they are there.
She shakes her head, a little confused, a little disoriented. Not remembering anything strange.
The swarm itself hides as she stands up - they are compact and small for just this purpose. “Must’ve gotten a little dizzy there,” she mutters to herself. She tosses the dropped bag of recycling into the appropriate bin.
The front door opens. “Hey, sweetie! I finished with my chores. You almost done?”
She smiles, a little distantly, glancing back over her shoulder, though there is nothing out of the ordinary to see. “Got lost in thought, I guess. It’s funny, isn’t it, that we can spend the whole day making stuff up.”
He grins. “Well, the real world is boring. You ready to go on?”
She laughs, and rubs at her temples a little. The headache is passing, along with the lingering emotions, the chemical remnants of their conversation. “Yeah, ok. Let’s get back to it. I’ve got plenty more for your character to do. Excitement and adventure, right?”
“You said it, sweetie”
The door closes. The swarm moves on.
~~~
Thank you for your visit to The Story Machine! I hope your visit was satisfying! Feel free to try another set of options. Beep! Boop!
They make mental contact with her almost immediately. It is the most confusing experience of her life, and that life included a drug trip in college and a stint volunteering for a political campaign, so that was really saying something.
She staggers back, dropping the recycling, trying to understand the buzzhumthrob of information suddenly flooding her brain. Eighty or a hundred voices speaking just out of phase with one another - no, not speakng. Not voices. Feeling things. Things she doesn’t even have words for. And then they snap-click into unison and clarity.
Ah. Speech centers located. Apologies for any discomfort.
The voice is clear enough in her mind, but still not pleasant. She tries to focus her thoughts, but there’s just too much in her head. She wants to know so many things. What do they want? Who - no, what - are they? Why is this happening? But mostly she wants them to be quiet.
She can feel her mind being moved. The scent of lavender suddenly assaults her senses and she squeezes her eyes shut tightly. She has always hated lavender. It is replaced with the scent of freshly baked bread and she relaxes a tiny bit more.
Then her mind shifts again, this time to a memory, and a recent one at that - she is sitting in bed across from her boyfriend, the cat between them pretending to be the focus of their attention. They are all pretending, though. She is spinning out a world for him, and he is pretending to be in it. He is laughing, and she is smiling, and then there is an intense inquisitiveness in her head. Intruding on the scene.
What are - were - you doing? We do not understand.
She lowers herself to the stoop so she won’t fall down, and carefully tries to marshal her thoughts and find language again. The words in her mind are slow, halting. She’s trying to be careful, and she’s still scared.
I was relaxing with a loved one. Playing a game. I describe an imaginary world and the things and people in it, and he pretends to be a person in that world. Immersive storytelling. Playing pretend, basically. But sometimes with dice.
Surprise. Elation. Some dismay. The voices, when they come again, are more dissonant.
You engage / play / participate in this ritual / ceremony / creation / event. You are not base beasts / simple meat machines / giant destructive mammaloids.
She frowns. Is this swarm some kind of invasion force? Having that idea seems to alarm and upset the tiny things more. The swarm itself condenses and buzzes, and she feels their dismay growing in her mind.
Explorers. Scouts. Not invading! Just looking for the highest forms of life.
She has a splitting headache now, and soon he’ll be looking for her.
We intend no harm. Apologies, again.
And then they’re gone from her mind. Completely. To do otherwise would be to do harm, and that is not why they are there.
She shakes her head, a little confused, a little disoriented. Not remembering anything strange.
The swarm itself hides as she stands up - they are compact and small for just this purpose. “Must’ve gotten a little dizzy there,” she mutters to herself. She tosses the dropped bag of recycling into the appropriate bin.
The front door opens. “Hey, sweetie! I finished with my chores. You almost done?”
She smiles, a little distantly, glancing back over her shoulder, though there is nothing out of the ordinary to see. “Got lost in thought, I guess. It’s funny, isn’t it, that we can spend the whole day making stuff up.”
He grins. “Well, the real world is boring. You ready to go on?”
She laughs, and rubs at her temples a little. The headache is passing, along with the lingering emotions, the chemical remnants of their conversation. “Yeah, ok. Let’s get back to it. I’ve got plenty more for your character to do. Excitement and adventure, right?”
“You said it, sweetie”
The door closes. The swarm moves on.
~~~
Thank you for your visit to The Story Machine! I hope your visit was satisfying! Feel free to try another set of options. Beep! Boop!