MILLICENT: Millie puts a foot on the rail, using Tueller for some slight leverage
MILLICENT: “1”
TUELLER: Tueller looks at Millie, and then down.
ALEJO: “2?” Alejo adds, still confused. “We really doing this?” He half whispers.
TUELLER: “3!”
TUELLER: Tueller grabs everyone and drags them over the side of the roof.
ALEJO: “Guess so!”
STORY: For a few seconds it’s like flying. Then your stomach drops and so does the world, the ground coming at you impossibly fast.
MILLICENT: Millie’s been hiking for hours, maybe days now. The trail is rough and uneven, with the little rills of last spring’s snow descent still evident in the soft, loamy soil. Sometimes it’s more like crawling than hiking, when the turf rises up and must be pushed off of with her palms and knees and elbows.
MILLICENT: It’s cold, early morning before the sun’s broken over this hill. There’s fog on this hill, still refusing to acknowledge the growing light in the east. Millie swings one more hand over hand and scrambles to the top. The sun is breaking over a distant hill and she can see the whole valley from here. The first of its rays hits her face and warms her.
MILLICENT: Finally, she’s able to swing her pack off, first one shoulder, then the other. The weight, as it leaves her back, nearly pitches her forward with its absence. Millie laughs and rolls her shoulders. The looseness in her shoulders and back as the tension leaves her is delicious. Millie sighs and looks at the dawn, no thoughts of work or conflict. No thoughts at all.
ALEJO: He had a boyish face, even for a twelve-year old, a curl of hair playfully falling across his forehead as he turns, looking back over his shoulder, towards Alejo and Calixta. And there’s the start of a reaction on his face, perhaps a smile, enigmatic, a half a moment out of time or place. He’s frozen, as he always is, in that instant.
ALEJO: Alejo moves towards him, examining him with an almost scientific dispassion, studying the features of this frozen boy.
ALEJO: Then, in the way of a dream, the boy stands, but now he’s an adult. His face is animated, his expressions big and shameless. He smiles wide, says something, but there’s no sound, just lips moving and then that big, dopey smile again. He nods and shakes his head all together, a charmingly confusing gesture. He is improbably handsome.
ALEJO: He extends a hand to Alejo who takes it. It is rough and strong and adept, like Alejo’s own. But this man/boy’s hand has paint stuck to his fingernails. Alejo notices this and then looks up and around.
ALEJO: They are in an artist’s studio. The man/boy gestures to a painting beside them. “Hunter’s paradox,” he says, “the ferocity of self-preservation, tempered by a sympathy, a respect for the beasts.” The painting swirls and moves, an impressionistic version of a cave painting from Lascaux, something Alejo saw as a kid himself, maybe eight or nine years old, as a holo at the Nath Tollen Conservatory.
ALEJO: Alejo’s eyes fill with tears. The man/boy smiles, compassionately. “You’re cut from marble, Alejo. If you have fear, fear is what you find. But you’re not afraid.” He takes Alejo’s hand and squeezes it. “Neither am I.”
TUELLER: Tueller is on his porch. The dome amplifies the distant sun, providing enough light to keep the hydroponics going. The cows bound around in the low gravity, chewing contentedly. Tueller can hear her in kitchen. Glasses are clinking, and the door opens. And he wakes.
—
STORY: Alejo, you bank right to avoid the archway and pass neatly under it, then turn to Aki and smile with relief. She kisses you quickly, then sits back in the jump seat. “For luck.” You smile broadly at her and miss the next archway, slamming into it with the starboard wing, ripping it cleanly off the flyer. The ship bangs down to the ground, skidding across the landing pad as you are thrown to the center of the bullseye painted there by A-Sec. You roll and recover, bumps and bruises, and watch the craft come to a skidding halt near the edge of the pad. You see Aki, dazed in the passenger seat, her head bobbing slightly as she tries to recover her wits and unbuckle her seat belt. She struggles with it as the craft teeters on the edge of the pad, beginning to tilt away from you.
STORY: “You always did know how to make an entrance, Cinco.” A frightened voice calls to you from the other side of the landing pad, as Calixta stands, her arms pinned behind her by a tall, musclebound alien, who holds a knife to her neck. “If you’re here to rescue me, uh. Could you get on with it?” The knife point pierces her skin and sends a trickle down her neck.
STORY: What do you do?
ALEJO: “I know how you like dramatic scenes.” He says this calmly and approaches. “Please don’t.” To the alien. He stretches out a hand, an offering of peace, but he closes the distance as much as possible.
STORY: As you take the first step, Akilah calls out to you in fear and panic. “Alejo!” is the last thing you hear before the screeching of the metal craft tipping over the edge of the landing pad. She is gone before you finish turning your head.
ALEJO: “Aki!” He screams, looking horrified and confused.
STORY: …
STORY: Tueller, you are sitting at the head of a large, ornately decorated table in an enormous dining hall. It is night outside, and the lavalight illuminates the craggy rocks of Io beyond. Dozens of guests crowd in to the room and take their seats as you lean to your left to look to the other end of the table, where a veiled woman sits in a bridal gown. Ruma, heavily pregnant, comes into the room, beaming as she takes the seat next to the veiled woman, raises her veil, and kisses her.
STORY: It is Nandini, dead, eyes locked open, unmoving, staring directly at you. The rigor mortis holds her body in place as Ruma rubs her belly and smiles to her guests, sipping from a glass of red wine.
STORY: The guests pay no attention, and sit, chattering happily with each other. Everyone wears white. A server arrives at your shoulder and lays a wet, thin piece of brown meat on your plate. “If you’ll do the honors, please, master.”
STORY: What do you do?
TUELLER: Tueller stands and backs away, screaming wordlessly.
STORY: You collide with the butler, who is holding a bottle of wine and a cloth napkin. “Is it not to your liking, sir?” he asks.
TUELLER: Tueller punches the butler.
STORY: He falls down and the guests all, in unison, fall silent and begin to stare at you, standing slowly.
STORY: Ruma remains seated, watching you with curiosity.
STORY: She tilts her head as if it is a question.
TUELLER: Tueller flees the room.
STORY: You push through a door and emerge into a completely alien landscape. The ground is a soft, purplish and green earth, with heavy, rolling green clouds hovering in the distant sky. You seem to be on a floating island, covered in craggy rock outcroppings, strange, winding paths everywhere, and in the distance, a human-sized blue surface that looks like a vertical pool of water.
STORY: What do you do?
TUELLER: Put distance between Tueller and the door. If that blue surface looks something he can hide behind, he’s heading there.
STORY: 
TUELLER: As fast as he can. He is unwilling to look back.
STORY: As you approach the blue surface, you see your reflection in it. It’s some kind of mirror.
TUELLER: Tueller lashes out at it.
STORY: Your hand goes straight through. Maybe not a mirror?
TUELLER: Any resistance at all?
STORY: Nope.
STORY: Your arm looks normal when you pull it back out.
TUELLER: Going through it.
STORY: Millie, you stand in the center of an enormous cylindrical room, one wall covered in windows offering a view the rest of the Ark and to the Ring and the black beyond. The rest of the walls are lined in rings of balconies, separated into small booths occupied by members of various member species. They mutter to each other as you stand at a podium in the center, your hands enclosed within a pair of metal handcuffs. A voice booms from the central balcony, thirty feet above you.
STORY: “You have heard our evidence against you, Millicent Breedlove. What is your defense?”
STORY: The room falls silent.
STORY: Tueller, you step out onto the floor in front of Millie and hear the question being asked. You are, for now, entirely hidden in the darkness.
STORY: Millie, what do you do?
TUELLER: Tueller remains hidden, unmoving.
MILLICENT: Millie takes a deep breath, looks up defiantly and sets her jaw. Her voice only quavers on the first word. “I wouldn’t recognize this circle of thieves as capable of judging a junior high science fair, much less to put forth a legitimate legal decision regarding my actions. And it’s Doctor Breedlove to you.”
STORY: The balconies erupt in offended discussion between the members of the council, each of whom are barely shrouded in darkness. You see odd shapes moving as they gesture to each other and you, arguing about what to do. After a few seconds, a gavel bangs and the central balcony makes its pronunciation.
STORY: “We accept your guilty plea, _Doctor_ Breedlove. Bailiff, please carry out the sentence.”
TUELLER: Tueller rushes in to Millie’s defense.
STORY: A slight A-Sec officer approaches you with a blank look, extending a baton toward you as he reaches the podium. Tueller, what do you do?
TUELLER: Rip that baton out of his hand and push past him.
STORY: You do so! He is thrown to the ground. A susurrus begins again among the balconies.
STORY: Millie?
MILLICENT: “Mr. Ya’Makasi!” Millie walks forward, relieved. “I thought you had been. Something? Captured?”
STORY: The bailiff stands and pulls his uniform shirt down to straighten it. “Halt!”
MILLICENT: “I’m glad to see you’re alright!” Millie is scuffing her soft fabric prison shoes against the carpeted floor and reaches out absentmindedly to the bailiff’s hands as he reaches for his stun baton. The brief shock from their touch drops the baton into Millie’s hands and she turns it 90 degrees and fires it into his ribs.
STORY: He falls to the ground, unconscious. A voice from the central balcony booms down to you. “Stop this at once! Return to the podium! You are guilty!”
STORY: Millie, the cuffs pop open.
MILLICENT: Millie looks to Tueller. “I’m hoping you have some kind of exfiltration plan, Mr. Ya’Makasi. That static charge was all I really had in the hopper.”
TUELLER: “Forward, Doc. Always forward.” Tueller pushes through, away from the portal. Never looking back to where the portal from Nadini was.
STORY: You walk back towards the wall of windows and find a small stairway that leads down.
MILLICENT: “Alright, then!” Millie grabs Tueller’s hand and runs with him
MILLICENT: It’s a Doctor Who scene now!
STORY: You both head down the stairs to the very vocal objections of the assembled crowd and emerge into a place very similar to the world you just left, Tueller.
TUELLER: “Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck damn.”
MILLICENT: “Huh”
STORY: The path opens up before you and splits in two directions, one more or less up, one more or less down.
MILLICENT: Any memories of our immediate past before the nightmare things?
TUELLER: /roll 1d6
STORY: chris.stuart rolled 2
TUELLER: Tueller goes up.
STORY: Millie, Assessment + Influence please!
MILLICENT: /roll 2d6
STORY: josh rolled 4
MILLICENT: 4
STORY: The up path winds around a bit, and at one point you’re pretty sure it twists upside down, but it’s hard to tell which way is up in this place anyway, given the fact that the sky is in roughly every direction and the ground is really only about five feet wide in most places.
STORY: A long, thin stone bridge that definitely goes 90 degrees straight up is before you, with another one of the water-mirrors at the end.
MILLICENT: “This place is fascinating!”
TUELLER: “Water mirrors are portals. Took it here to get away.”
MILLICENT: Millie throws pebbles to test exactly where the gravity changes
STORY: Millie, the gravity here is what you would describe as “fucky”
STORY: The pebbles travel accordingly.
MILLICENT: “Ah, well. Are we ah.”
MILLICENT: “Are we missing anyone?”
STORY: Millie, as you travel you try to think about what happened before the trial, and it’s very foggy, but you remember lying on a soggy, mossy floor, arms and legs bound, watching Alejo arrive and wanting to warn him.
MILLICENT: “I feel like we came here with than – Alejo!”
MILLICENT: Millie flushes. “Mr. Soto, I mean. We came here with Mr. Soto.”
MILLICENT: “Have you seen him?”
TUELLER: “No.”
TUELLER: “Just Ruma and…”
TUELLER: “just Ruma.”
MILLICENT: Millie holds out her hand.
TUELLER: Tueller takes Millie’s hand.
MILLICENT: “Mr. Ya’Makasi, I’d like to think we’re friends. And as much as I want to give you a chance to talk about your experience, I’m afraid we’re lengthening Mr. Soto’s while we stand here.”
MILLICENT: “Shall we?”
TUELLER: “I’m trying not to talk about my experience. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
TUELLER: Tueller drags Millie through the mirror door.
STORY: Alejo, you bank right to avoid the archway and pass neatly under it, then turn to Aki and smile with relief. She kisses you quickly, then sits back in the jump seat. “For luck.” You smile broadly at her and miss the next archway, slamming into it with the starboard wing, ripping it cleanly off the flyer. The ship bangs down to the ground, skidding across the landing pad as you are thrown to the center of the bullseye painted there by A-Sec. You roll and recover, bumps and bruises, and watch the craft come to a skidding halt near the edge of the pad. You see Aki, dazed in the passenger seat, her head bobbing slightly as she tries to recover her wits and unbuckle her seat belt. She struggles with it as the craft teeters on the edge of the pad, beginning to tilt away from you.
STORY: “You always did know how to make an entrance, Cinco.” A frightened voice calls to you from the other side of the landing pad, as Calixta stands, her arms pinned behind her by a tall, musclebound alien, who holds a knife to her neck. “If you’re here to rescue me, uh. Could you get on with it?” The knife point pierces her skin and sends a trickle down her neck.
STORY: Tueller and Millie, you open a door onto what seems like a roof, and see a small metal catwalk stairway going up to your left.
TUELLER: “Forward, always forward.”
TUELLER: Tueller heads towards the stairway.
TUELLER: And up it.
MILLICENT: Millie follows!
STORY: You come up and see Alejo on one knee in the center of the landing pad, and the scene before him.
MILLICENT: Still holding hands this is a goddamn Dr Who scene
STORY: Alejo, what do you do?
TUELLER: Tueller has not looked behind them yet.
ALEJO: Alejo rises and rushes towards the alien holding Calixta, closing the distance and trusting Calixta to make a move to help.
STORY: As you take the first step, Akilah calls out to you in fear and panic. “Alejo!” is the last thing you hear before the screeching of the metal craft tipping over the edge of the landing pad. She is gone before you finish turning your head.
STORY: The alien holding Calixta panics at your movement and digs the knife into her neck.
ALEJO: He sets his jaw and continues full speed.
STORY: She gurgles a plea as the blood pours out of the hole and over her chest.
STORY: Alejo, she’s dead before you reach her. What do you do to the alien still holding her?
ALEJO: Kill it with a swift and vicious blow, snapping its neck.
ALEJO: Or try.
STORY: You do so! It drops to the ground, dead. Two bodies at your feet.
ALEJO: He drops to both knees and lifts Calixta, trying to stop the bleeding. Knowing it’s too late, but trying anyway.
MILLICENT: Millie slides to a stop, kneeling by Alejo
STORY: She’s cold.
MILLICENT: “Captain Soto! Your crew needs you! You’ve got to come with us, now!”
ALEJO: He is shivering, but he looks to Millie. He pauses, looks to Calixta once more, then gently lowers her, nods to Millie and stands, offering her a hand up.
MILLICENT: Millie takes his hand and Tuellers and runs toward the door at the end of the landing pad, away from where they came
STORY: You rush toward the end of the landing pad and find… the edge of the landing pad.
STORY: No door here.
STORY: Alejo, there’s a trail of smoke coming up from where Akilah’s flyer crashed stories below.
STORY: The city below stretches before you.
MILLICENT: Is this what’s directly across the platform from the stairs we came up?
STORY: It is!
ALEJO: Alejo looks confused, considering jumping off the platform, as though that was the plan.
MILLICENT: Millie puts a foot on the rail, using Tueller for some slight leverage
MILLICENT: “1”
TUELLER: Tueller looks at Millie, and then down.
ALEJO: “2?” Alejo adds, still confused. “We really doing this?” He half whispers.
TUELLER: “3!”
TUELLER: Tueller grabs everyone and drags them over the side of the roof.
ALEJO: “Guess so!”
STORY: For a few seconds it’s like flying. Then your stomach drops and so does the world, the ground coming at you impossibly fast.
STORY: You barely have time to register how close the ground is before it’s there, and you’re landing… in a swimming pool?
STORY: The three of you crash back onto a small clearing in the green and purple landscape, thrown ten feet from the door behind you, piling on top of each other, soaking wet.
MILLICENT: Millie rolls off the pile and onto her back and considers the skyline while catching her breath
STORY: Millie, the skyline includes some of the ground in it. It’s confusing.
ALEJO: “This fucking place.” Alejo sits up and looks around.
STORY: It’s sort of like a really horrible Escher painting.
MILLICENT: Millie fights to clear her head and try to remember how she ended up here
STORY: Here and there are remnants of what looks like it could have been civilization – a few flagstones here, a weird statue of a raven there.
STORY: Small red shrubs dot the ground to the sides. Lightning more or less constantly flashes somewhere in the sky.
STORY: 
TUELLER: “How’d we get to this fucking place?”
STORY: Tueller, give me an Assessment + Influence please!
TUELLER: “I mean, before the jump.”
ALEJO: Alejo scampers to his feet and approaches the door, studying it.
TUELLER: /roll 2d6
STORY: chris.stuart rolled 8
MILLICENT: “I don’t remember anything before my trial.” The last two words trailing away as she hears them
STORY: Tueller, you remember, hazily, some kind of plan. Some kind of confrontation, too. Millie and Tariq had been taken by… someone, and you and the others put together a plan to get them back. Your part involved fire somehow.
MILLICENT: “Oh shit, what did I do?”
MILLICENT: Millie sits down hard on an old plinth.
ALEJO: “Trial?” Alejo too struggles to remember anything before the crashing flyer.
MILLICENT: “Did I. Do something?” Her voice is barely a whisper.
TUELLER: “Doc, you were taken. So was Tariq. Who took? We were going to burn you out somehow?”
TUELLER: “I was. Fuck.”
STORY: Alejo, let’s have your Assessment + Influence please!
ALEJO: /roll 2d6+2
STORY: ablair01 rolled 8 + 2 = 10
MILLICENT: Millie sits with it a minute, thinking.
STORY: You can’t remember many details, but you remember picking your way through the tower, confronting various abominations and rescuing trapped grell, sending them down to the entrance to wait in safety. You remember a trap, and some of you being captured. And you remember the plan: you were the distraction.
STORY: You also get a data point around The Plan.
ALEJO: “We were rescuing Grell. There was a trap. Some sort of trap.” He struggles, trying to put meaning to the words.
ALEJO: “I was a distraction.”
MILLICENT: “Oh, yes.”
MILLICENT: “Yes, we.”
MILLICENT: “We were captured. And placed in nightmares. For safekeeping. Or punishment.”
ALEJO: “And there was a rescue plan? A . . . ” he trails off.
TUELLER: “Yes. Rescue. And hopefully it involves killing the mothefuckers involved.”
MILLICENT: “That explains this place, somewhat.”
ALEJO: “I think we might have done a lot of that already.”
MILLICENT: “We’re in that psychic dreamspace.”
ALEJO: Alejo shrugs. “Guess the rescue didn’t go quiet like it was supposed to go?” He pauses to consider this.
ALEJO: “Or . . . ” He stops and looks around, suddenly conscious of the space around them.
MILLICENT: Quietly
MILLICENT: “We brought the ship.”
MILLICENT: “Our whole crew is trapped here in nightmares.”
MILLICENT: Millie sets her jaw. “We have some people to save, gentlemen. Let’s find some more of those doors.”
TUELLER: “Some things here are real. And some aren’t.”
MILLICENT: “How’s that? Which things in your nightmare were real?”
TUELLER: “Hopefully nothing.”
TUELLER: “But hopefully you are. And you.”
TUELLER: “And me.”
ALEJO: “If this is the dream space or whatever we’re calling it, shouldn’t the governor’s daughter be here?”
MILLICENT: Millie nods and smiles. “Very good point, Mr. Soto.”
TUELLER: “I wasn’t paying close attention. No idea if this is a shared space. Or what controls this. Where’d we lose the…what the hell was its name?”
ALEJO: “If you’re real — or from your perspective, if I’m real — then this has to be some sort of shared space, right?”
ALEJO: “Wasn’t,” he shakes his head, trying to remember something.
STORY: Jac is flung out from the portal behind you, gasping for air and dripping wet like the three of you. She slams into Alejo, knocking him down.
TUELLER: “Oh! Shit!”
TUELLER: Tueller goes to help them both up.
STORY: She stands silently, her eyes wide, and looks at the three of you.
STORY: “Are y–”
MILLICENT: “Hello, dear.”
ALEJO: “Hi.”
MILLICENT: “We haven’t much in the way of towels, but I’m happy to share my squatting plinth as a chair.”
STORY: Her eyes narrow.
TUELLER: “We’re hopefully real.”
STORY: “Prove it.”
TUELLER: “You eye me in my boxers and don’t think I notice.”
STORY: She opens her mouth to object, then stops again.
TUELLER: “But I do.”
MILLICENT: “That’s hardly news, Mr. Ya’Makasi, the whole crew does that.”
STORY: “But I’d know that.”
STORY: “Hang on. That’s not how this works.”
STORY: “You have to tell me something I don’t know.”
STORY: “Something we can prove.”
MILLICENT: Millie explains string theory.
STORY: Jac stands, a confused look on her face the entire time. It takes a few minutes.
STORY: She squeezes out her hair while you talk.
STORY: “Okay, I wouldn’t know how to make that up.”
STORY: “You two?”
TUELLER: “I think I’m falling in love with Loll, and I don’t think that’s going to be a good idea.”
STORY: Jac sighs heavily. “Jesus. Okay.”
TUELLER: “For one, I can’t pronounce her full name.”
STORY: “It’s T’chololl Thasht.”
TUELLER: “Easy for you to say.”
ALEJO: Alejo is standing, a bit awkwardly, just listening to this.
MILLICENT: “T’chololl Thasht.”
ALEJO: “T’chololl Thasht.” He adds, with a nod.
TUELLER: “T’chololl Thasht” Tueller mutters to himself and walks away. “Jesus Christ.”
ALEJO: “But it’s good to see you opening up to your feelings, mate!” Alejo calls out playfully to him as he walks off.
TUELLER: “Fuck you, dream figment.”
MILLICENT: “Mr. Soto, you have some physics to explain yet, or something.”
ALEJO: He turns to Jac. “It’s me. If you need proof,” he smiles a bit bashfully, “just know that I always regretted not following through on that night in Patera.”
ALEJO: He then looks at Millie. “I think we’ve had plenty of string theory for one nightmare.”
STORY: Jac sets her jaw and looks at the ground.
MILLICENT: “It’s fine, I believe I have a good 10 minutes on S-duality for when we find more crew.”
ALEJO: “I didn’t think that this could get any worse.”
TUELLER: “Jac, did you just arrive, or have you been…experiencing this shit for awhile?”
STORY: “I, uh. I guess both?”
STORY: “I just got to this part of here.”
STORY: “I’m not sure time is a thing here.”
TUELLER: “We’ve got some… missing… well, time. Parts we can’t remember from the outside.”
TUELLER: “I remember Millie and Tariq getting taken, but not by what. And that we planned to free them, but not how. Fire was involved for me, at least.”
STORY: “Outside.” Jac pauses and furrows her brow.
STORY: Tueller, Jac remembers a single detail of the plan – what was it?
TUELLER: Alejo was the distraction. Tueller had fire. Jac remembers that Millie was going to vent the water from the ship.
TUELLER: Or at least the areas we were in.
TUELLER: Or, not Millie. Since she was taken.
TUELLER: But Jac.
STORY: Jac gasps. “I was supposed to find the water storage, and vent the area. Alejo was buying me time.”
STORY: “But where, I mean. Who even were we trying to distract?”
STORY: “I don’t remember anything else.”
ALEJO: “This fucking place.” He grimaces. “Jac, have you seen anyone else. The rest of the crew?”
STORY: She shakes her head. “Just you three.”
TUELLER: “And some nightmares.”
ALEJO: “Forward. Always forward.” He looks to Tueller. “Your line, right?” He then looks to Millie and Jac. “We need to keep moving.”
MILLICENT: “Speaking of!” Millie gestures to the door
ALEJO: “1?”
MILLICENT: “2!”
TUELLER: “Fucking 3”
TUELLER: Tueller kicks the door down.
MILLICENT: hell yeah
STORY: Given that it’s made of resistanceless illusory liquid, this is more of a gesture than a contribution, but you sort of kick-stride your way through it.
STORY: You step out the back door to a schoolyard, one surrounded by tall cornfields in every direction. A hundred feet away, you see a small clump of uniformed girls standing in a circle. They’re all about ten, and eight of them stand shoulder to shoulder, leaning against each other to form a barrier that traps a blonde human girl in the center.
STORY: They chant something, though you can’t make it out from where you are.
MILLICENT: —more of a gesture than a contribution: the Tueller Ya’Makasi Story
TUELLER: Tueller strides that way.
TUELLER: “Get the fuck away from her you fucks.”
MILLICENT: Millie strides as well. “Yes, you. Fucks.”
TUELLER: Tueller sounds more rattled and irritated than you’ve heard him.
TUELLER: (In general this session. Not just now)
STORY: You hear them, Tueller, chanting “freaky, freaky, little Jen, don’t like girls and don’t like men” as the girl in the center cries and tries to push her way out.
STORY: The clump of girls ignores you, though the little blonde girl looks up, and you realize it’s Jenny.
ALEJO: Alejo rushes to her, shoving little girls out of the way as needed.
TUELLER: Tueller is going to literally toss them aside when he gets to them.
STORY: Alejo and Tueller part the crowd and the children scatter, leaving Jenny crouched on the ground, crying.
ALEJO: He offers her a hand.
ALEJO: “Jen, it’s us. This fucking nightmare is just that, a fucking nightmare.”
STORY: She looks up, her face streaked with tears, and shakes her head. “God. Don’t call me Jen, I’m not a child.” She takes your hand and stands, wiping her face.
STORY: “So this place is pretty fucked up, huh.”
STORY: She looks at the four of you.
TUELLER: “Yeah, it’s shit.”
ALEJO: “So seriously.”
STORY: “Did we find Kahn and Tariq yet?”
ALEJO: “No. You remember the plan? We have bits and pieces of it, but we are a bit fuzzy about details.”
STORY: The exhales a long, slow breath, thinking.
STORY: Alejo! What detail does Jenny remember about the plan?
STORY: She can also remember a detail about the scenario if you like.
ALEJO: Once inside this dreamspace, we were supposed to find the “nucleus.” We were supposed to be here.
STORY: Excellent. She tells you this with a confused look, as if she doesn’t remember any more than it.
STORY: “Can we get the hell out of this place, though?”
ALEJO: “Jesus.” Alejo mutters. “What the hell were we thinking?”
TUELLER: “Any place you can get into you can get out of.”
TUELLER: “If you hit it hard enough.”
ALEJO: “Burn the fucking nucleus, whatever that is?”
STORY: Jenny gasps. “Oh! That’s what Veni said as we were passing out. Remember?”
MILLICENT: “Whatever discipline we were thinking of, the nucleus is the center. We meant to burn this place down by the foundation.”
STORY: “There were like ten big monsters standing around, and we didn’t know which one was the leader? He said we had to find out here.”
STORY: “So I guess there’s something here that’ll tell us that, except I’m really hoping it isn’t the scene of my childhood trauma, once again can we go.”
TUELLER: “Forward then.”
MILLICENT: Millie offers her a hand.
STORY: She takes it, smiling.
ALEJO: “Always forward.”
STORY: You walk into the cornfield, which is a little face-whacky and a new world of fresh and curious smells for most of you, but you only make it a few feet in before you’re back in the green-horizon world.
STORY: The path winds down this time, looping back around itself until, for a moment, you see Jac and Jenny directly below you as they follow.
TUELLER: “Keep close. Don’t get separated in the Escher-hellscape.”
STORY: You’ve become a bit of a caravan. As you walk, Jenny jogs to the front to walk with Alejo. “I, uh. How much of that did you see?”
ALEJO: He shakes his head. “Nothing much at all.” He offers her an easy smile. “But I’m sorry kids can be real dicks.”
STORY: “Hrm. Okay.” She falls back, talking with Jac as they walk.
STORY: You make it to a pair of mirrored doorways.
STORY: Jenny puts her hands on her hips. “Okay. So how did you pick before me?”
TUELLER: “I went left before.”
TUELLER: “So, right.”
TUELLER: Tueller heads to the right, taking a slow glance to make sure people are keeping close to him.
STORY: Jac puts a hand on Tueller’s extremely muscled arm.
STORY: “What if one of our crew is behind that?”
STORY: She points to the left.
STORY: “What if you already left one behind?”
TUELLER: “Everything is choices and nothing has logic to it. So we torment ourselves if we try.”
ALEJO: Alejo stops. “Why do you think that?”
TUELLER: “This is arbitrary nightmare logic meant to drive us mad. We can’t overthink it. That how it fucking wins.”
MILLICENT: Millie nods. “From what we have seen I have to agree. At least some elements of this place has been designed to hurt us. We must imagine, until we face failure, that these choices represent the same intent.”
ALEJO: “Alright. Right then. In some other multiverse, we probably go left anyway.” He gives a quick wink to Millie.
TUELLER: “A dream. You walk into a room that is your bedroom when you were five except your college roommate decorated it, and your mom is there except she’s a penguin. It’s a dream. Roll with it.” Tueller gives everyone a nod and then moves to the right door.
STORY: You pass through the doorway and find yourselves in a spare kitchen. There are dishes in the sink and a kettle on the stove, and you hear quiet conversation through a beaded curtain leading to an adjacent room.
STORY: Jenny is not with you.
MILLICENT: Millie walks through the curtain
TUELLER: “Fuck fuck fuck i hate this fucking place so fucking much.”
STORY: Millie, you enter into a hallway before a dim room that smells warm and musky, with thick carpet and two couches sitting opposite each other. Tariq sits on one couch, sandwiched uncomfortably between a man and woman who resemble him, looking at his knees as three people sit opposite them, two older parents sandwiching a young woman looking hopefully at Tariq.
STORY: They all chat quietly, respectfully, but with excitement coloring their discussion. Tariq does not look up. He looks like he will vomit.
ALEJO: Alejo walks up to them. “Sorry, he’s definitely not interested,” he says this to the figment of the young woman and then kneels in front of Tariq.
ALEJO: “Hiya.”
STORY: Tariq looks you in the eye, sad and panicking. “Wh–”
STORY: He shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”
ALEJO: “Nightmare. We’ve all been there.”
TUELLER: “We’re all wandering here still. We just lost Jenny.”
ALEJO: “Do you remember how we got here? Any of the plan we had before we came here?”
STORY: The assembled figments stand and object to your presence, though weakly.
STORY: “How dare you, leave my home” and the like
STORY: Millie, what part of the plan or scenario does Tariq remember?
ALEJO: “Piss off figments!” Alejo brushes in their direction without looking at them.
TUELLER: Tueller backhands a figment that talks back to him.
TUELLER: Fucking _hard_
STORY: The figment is VERY offended as it falls to the ground and more or less leaves the dream
MILLICENT: Tariq and Millie allowed themselves to be captured in order to do recon. The leading lusus has taken over the communication suite. Normally this is used to broadcast some light music and announcements, but it’s been coopted to send a signal to New Vesta.
STORY: Tariq triumphantly makes this pronouncement as his imaginary mother paws at his arm, begging him to sit back down.
STORY: He looks sadly down at her, wrests his arm away, and walks out the front door.
MILLICENT: Millie follows right behind him
STORY: Jac, Tariq, and the three of you emerge back into the raw Weave. Tariq marvels at the landscape, wanting to take samples. “What the HELL is this?” He reaches into his pocket for the baggies he always carries and finds he has no pockets.
STORY: “Fucking dreams.”
TUELLER: Tueller follows after, dragging Jac along and gesturing to Alejo.
ALEJO: Alejo rolls his eyes at this last but follows.
MILLICENT: “Dr. Guosin, it’s starting to come back to me. And you were very brave.”
STORY: “Thank you, but if that shit you just saw tells you anything, I’m not. I didn’t even come out to my mother until I was 23.”
MILLICENT: Millie pushes him, hard.
MILLICENT: “You’re a fucking pirate scientist, Dr. Guosin.”
MILLICENT: “You’re a space brigand and you volunteered to be captured by alien psychic nightmare monsters to scout out the area for your crew.”
MILLICENT: Millie pushes him on the other shoulder, harder.
STORY: “I extremely did not want to volunteer, and stop pushing me. Let’s move on.”
MILLICENT: Millie pushes him again, affectionately. “You did well, doctor.”
TUELLER: “As a foolhardy brave asshole I have to agree. Tariq is very sensibly cautious.”
MILLICENT: “I agree, I just don’t like anyone trash talking my crew. Let’s go.”
STORY: Jac is sick of waiting and feelings, and starts to march down the path.
TUELLER: “We lost Jenny.”
STORY: Tariq shakes his head. “Don’t be so sure. She’s a tough kid.”
STORY: You reach the next mirror within a minute, and she walks straight into it.
TUELLER: “Oh fuck come on”
ALEJO: Alejo follows directly behind her.
TUELLER: Tueller grabs onto Alejo and Millie and pushes Tariq through with his weight.
STORY: You emerge underwater.
ALEJO: “Fuck!” Alejo says, bubbles erupting from his mouth.
STORY: It’s dim, hard to see. The surface is miles away. A diving bell is thirty yards away.
MILLICENT: “mmmm”
MILLICENT: Millie swims for it
ALEJO: Alejo too.
TUELLER: Tueller pushes people towards the diving bell, pointing to it.
TUELLER: He treads water for a second to make sure everyone’s with us.
STORY: The five of you swim over and squeeze awkwardly into it, and upon surfacing find Tux.
STORY: He jumps, slamming his head against the thick metal.
STORY: “Jesus!”
STORY: “Hell did you come from?”
TUELLER: “Fuck if I know”
TUELLER: “Narnia, I think.”
ALEJO: “This fucking place.” Alejo shakes his head, and brushes his long hair out of his eyes.
STORY: He hums, tilting his head. “Fair.”
TUELLER: “Definiely getting a Magician’s Nephew feel right now.”
STORY: “I don’t know what that is.”
TUELLER: “You didn’t have an Anglican tutor, then.”
STORY: “…I don’t know what that is either.”
MILLICENT: “Back in a minute.”
MILLICENT: Millie dives and gets a look around the bell, looking for a way out.
STORY: Millie, the only thing you see is the surface, ages and ages away.
TUELLER: “A tutor is a private teacher.”
STORY: “Okay, bud, funny. The other thing. Anglican.”
TUELLER: “Dying faith from a shitty planet. Doesn’t matter.”
MILLICENT: Millie swims back
ALEJO: “Anything?” Alejo asks Millie.
STORY: “Ha. Should have been raised Evanuris. ‘May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent.’ Shit’s poetic.”
TUELLER: “So, Tux, what’ve you been up to while we’ve been portal hopping?”
MILLICENT: “No, it’s just the surface. So, should we dive off the building?”
STORY: “Oh, glad you asked, and I’d like to hear more about this portal hopping thing. I’ve been drowning and then not drowning.”
STORY: “What have you lot been up to?”
TUELLER: “Being tormented by our nightmares. Meeting up and hanging out.”
ALEJO: “Plan. Tux. Focus. We had a plan. Do you remember any of it?”
MILLICENT: “Would you first mind telling Alejo something only you and he would know?”
STORY: “Jeez, lot of questions.” Tux holds up both hands, then puts them on his knees.
STORY: “All right, so for you – Soto and I definitely once had a three-way that I think he only sort of remembers. I remember it very clearly, and yes I’m happy to share more details if you need me to elaborate.”
STORY: He raises his eyebrows and smiles at Millie.
MILLICENT: Millie smiles back and smiles questioningly at Alejo
ALEJO: “Nope.” Alejo gives him a look that says he’ll snap his neck.
ALEJO: “I mean, nope, you won’t share any more details.” He looks mildly flustered. “It’s Tux.”
STORY: He winks at you.
MILLICENT: “Thanks! So, I think we can either swim to the surface, which is probably a mistake, or we can swim straight ahead, which will feel more like a mistake, but will ultimately bear out Mr. Ya’Makasi’s theory of ‘always forward’.”
STORY: Tux then points to Alejo. “Your question, yes. I was… supposed to find floor layouts. And I’ve got it – hang on. Does anyone have chalk or something?”
STORY: As you pat your pockets, bubbles come up from below the bell, and two heads burst up through the water line. Jenny and Kahn tread water.
TUELLER: “Oh. Hey.”
ALEJO: “Jenny! Kahn! Hi.” Alejo looks genuinely relieved.
TUELLER: “Good to see you guys”
STORY: Jenny takes a hand from whoever offers it and scoots up to the bench on the side of the bell, and Tariq launches himself off the bench to embrace Kahn and kiss him squarely on the mouth.
STORY: There’s… rather a lot of desperate kissing for a few moments.
ALEJO: “Went left?” Alejo gives Jenny a glance.
STORY: Jenny nods, pulling her hair back and tying it in a knot.
STORY: “Couldn’t leave a man behind,” she says breathlessly.
ALEJO: “Big damned hero stuff. Well done.”
STORY: “Thanks, Captain.”
ALEJO: “Next time, let’s make sure someone has your back, OK?”
TUELLER: Tueller politely neither doesn’t look at Kahn and Tariq and doesn’t look away.
TUELLER: “Don’t split the party.”
STORY: Jenny nods at you both. “Roger that.”
ALEJO: Alejo pays absolutely no attention to the love fest.
ALEJO: “Anyone have something for Tux to write on or with?” Alejo pats at his own clothing.
STORY: The men below finish up their reunion and awkwardly separate, each clinging to the bench with one hand while they tread water at the surface.
MILLICENT: Millie watches like she’s wishing for some popcorn
MILLICENT: She cheers when they break for air
STORY: Everyone pats their non-pockets and shakes their heads.
STORY: Tux does his best to describe.
STORY: Alejo, since you asked, give us the Assessment + Influence
ALEJO: /roll 2d6+2
STORY: ablair01 rolled 3 + 2 = 5
STORY: Tux is able to vaguely describe the layout of the comms center, giving you an idea of what’s where, and unfortunately it isn’t great for a fight. It’s wide open, with multiple exits and only one good console worth taking cover behind. Whatever you do there, it’s likely going to be a direct confrontation with what sounds like a dozen lusus.
ALEJO: “Keeps getting better and better. We gotta start coming up with better plans.”
TUELLER: “That’s the fight on the outside, right? If we don’t get to the nucleus or whatever here?”
STORY: Tux nods at you, Tueller. “Right.”
TUELLER: “So. We go drown and reset?”
STORY: Kahn speaks up. “The plan, right. Shit.”
STORY: “We’re here to find that kid.”
STORY: “The Nahar kid, she’s supposed to be the key. Veni said he could keep us hidden from them until we find her. Let’s use that time.”
MILLICENT: Millie nods.
TUELLER: “One.”
ALEJO: “Two!”
MILLICENT: “Three!”
MILLICENT: Millie dives in
TUELLER: Tueller drags Tux in.
—
STORY: Years later, after he understood how badly he had been treated, how unfair their arrangement was, how easily she had set the terms for him to fall hard for her and then be left behind as she found another toy, Tux held no resentment. Even as his friends reminded him how uncomfortable she was to be around, how rude she was to them, how strange her sense of humor, he remembered her fondly. He replayed their conversations, reread the books she had lent him and abandoned when she left, remembered with a little guilt the times he had joined her in a bit of mayhem. She wasn’t his first love, nor his last, but she remained unique in his roster, and for that he would always hold a special place for her in his memory.