[ Maybe so, maybe so. Looks great, buddy. Nodding along to his story, though he doesn't seem to be paying that much attention after the "I can't remember any of it" part, since he has to figure out how to convey all this without his brain oozing right out of his ears. ]
Alright. Well? Keep in mind here, I am not normally in charge of this stuff. This is not my bag! Taako is a appreciator of the art of expositional wordsmithing, but not a practitioner. We'll just ease into it. So, turns out there's another voidfish - a twist! You know, like the Prestige? We got Prestige'd. [Sort of. He does feel a bit like Hugh Jackman drowning in a box right now.] Me and Merle shotgunned that sweet shot of fishy piss or whatever we decided it was, because why not? No one ever accused us of being geniuses. Which means now Taako is the one in charge of all this knowledge, because no one else but you and me is awake and here to help me out.
We're all, uh, Redrobes. Not really our name, more commentary on our fashion choices - we're actually the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. Don't ask me, I didn't come up with it, I could have done a better acronym than IPRE, but there you go. Space explorers! The seven of us: The Direc-- Lucretia, I'm not using that title anymore, come on. Davenport, Barry, as in Bluejeans, Merle, You, Me. And. Um. Lup? My sister. [ He struggles a little to get her name out, but there it is and he's not going to let it sit for long, barrelling forward before he's asked any more direct questions about that mess for right now. ] We all set out to try and explore other dimensions, some lofty shit that gets you grants, you know? I think maybe most of us just wanted to maybe go off the grid in a new and exciting way. Really raise the bar on skipping town. Turns out as soon as we headed out, our world got nailed by that black stuff.
The black stuff is called The Hunger, by the way. Or the Storm, I guess they're calling it here? As far as I can tell, it seems like the same thing. And it was chasing us, and the thing called the Light of Creation - again, I was not put in charge of these names - across all these planes for a friggin' century. We'd get somewhere new, try and find the Light for a year, then bug out before it caught up and ate that plane. Every time we'd sort of regenerate? Even if you died. Right back on our ship, and we'd be somewhere new. And it was just that, over and over and over, trying to get this Light and study it and whatnot, and then hitting the pavement as the Hunger caught up and tried to rip us a new one.
We got to our last stop - you know, that place we all thought was home - and we had a plan! It was a good plan, I mean. It wasn't terrible? But things went a little sideways on us. [ Kind of an understatement, but no one's here to call him on it. He can maybe put off the whole "we caused a destructive global war that cost thousands of lives" thing until after he's had a break.] Lucretia I guess thought she had a better idea. She, uh, got us to forget.
Basically, my life might be a lie, I think my sister is dead, we really, uh, fumbled the end zone play on our final stand against the Universe consuming entity we've been trying to fight for over a century, and this place doesn't have Key Lime GoGurt. They've never heard of it. It sucks. My entire sort of brain area feels like it met the bad of a baseball bat in an alleyway?
no subject
Alright. Well? Keep in mind here, I am not normally in charge of this stuff. This is not my bag! Taako is a appreciator of the art of expositional wordsmithing, but not a practitioner. We'll just ease into it. So, turns out there's another voidfish - a twist! You know, like the Prestige? We got Prestige'd. [Sort of. He does feel a bit like Hugh Jackman drowning in a box right now.] Me and Merle shotgunned that sweet shot of fishy piss or whatever we decided it was, because why not? No one ever accused us of being geniuses. Which means now Taako is the one in charge of all this knowledge, because no one else but you and me is awake and here to help me out.
We're all, uh, Redrobes. Not really our name, more commentary on our fashion choices - we're actually the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. Don't ask me, I didn't come up with it, I could have done a better acronym than IPRE, but there you go. Space explorers! The seven of us: The Direc-- Lucretia, I'm not using that title anymore, come on. Davenport, Barry, as in Bluejeans, Merle, You, Me. And. Um. Lup? My sister. [ He struggles a little to get her name out, but there it is and he's not going to let it sit for long, barrelling forward before he's asked any more direct questions about that mess for right now. ] We all set out to try and explore other dimensions, some lofty shit that gets you grants, you know? I think maybe most of us just wanted to maybe go off the grid in a new and exciting way. Really raise the bar on skipping town. Turns out as soon as we headed out, our world got nailed by that black stuff.
The black stuff is called The Hunger, by the way. Or the Storm, I guess they're calling it here? As far as I can tell, it seems like the same thing. And it was chasing us, and the thing called the Light of Creation - again, I was not put in charge of these names - across all these planes for a friggin' century. We'd get somewhere new, try and find the Light for a year, then bug out before it caught up and ate that plane. Every time we'd sort of regenerate? Even if you died. Right back on our ship, and we'd be somewhere new. And it was just that, over and over and over, trying to get this Light and study it and whatnot, and then hitting the pavement as the Hunger caught up and tried to rip us a new one.
We got to our last stop - you know, that place we all thought was home - and we had a plan! It was a good plan, I mean. It wasn't terrible? But things went a little sideways on us. [ Kind of an understatement, but no one's here to call him on it. He can maybe put off the whole "we caused a destructive global war that cost thousands of lives" thing until after he's had a break.] Lucretia I guess thought she had a better idea. She, uh, got us to forget.
Basically, my life might be a lie, I think my sister is dead, we really, uh, fumbled the end zone play on our final stand against the Universe consuming entity we've been trying to fight for over a century, and this place doesn't have Key Lime GoGurt. They've never heard of it. It sucks. My entire sort of brain area feels like it met the bad of a baseball bat in an alleyway?
So that's where I'm at.