Welcome to Gaia! ::

Feng approached the shrine, but it took him a moment to realize that something was... off.

One of the statues was missing.

He was almost afraid too approach it - how did a statue just go missing? - but cautiously stepped forward until he was close enough to examine it. A little searching revealed that the plaque had changed and looked scratched out. That was weird, right?

"Or so it goes."

He jumped and flailed, letting out a sort of wail as he turned to see the goddess standing behind him. But she was.... there was.... statue!

She didn't seem to be paying much attention to him which just made him shuffle his feet and get anxious. Should he be here? Did she want him to go? He should probably just go. She looked up and handed him a bag though, so obviously he was stuck.

"Go on, open it up. I have a gift for you."

Gun did as he was told, but when he looked inside, there was nothing. "It's empty?"

"Oh. A small error. It's okay, I can fix this."

He listened to her, eyes growing wider as she explained what she needed. "I don't think -" he started, but the goddess gave him a megawatt smile and he knew there was no choice. He turned and headed towards the door. There were sounds that set his pulse racing, but he ducked and stepped through anyways.

He walked away from the grave and continued down the path. As he walked he noticed that the ground got wetter, and sticker. His feet slopped a little when he walked.

Something behind him sloshed, and there were footsteps. He gasped and spun to look behind him, but there was nothing.

"... Weird." He continued to walk, wading into ankle deep, freezing water the further he went. Something behind him sloshes again and the footstep grow louder, nearer.

"Please give it back."

He whimpered as he turned slowly this time, afraid of what he was going to see, but there was nothing. Just the hallway the way he'd come. He continued to walk more cautiously, but soon he was wading in water up to his neck and even with his height he was unable to continue further without swimming and tiring himself out.

"Please give me back my-"

Two hands grabbed him around the side of his head and pushed him down into the water. He choked as the liquid filled his mouth and throat, unable to push it out. His eyes stung but he couldn't tell if he was crying because he was just being pushed under water. Everything was frantic flailing and desperate heaves of his chest that only brought more water into to his mouth and lungs. He was quickly becoming weaker.

The hands forcefully turned his head and he was looking into soul-less dead eyes.

"Give me back my heart."

He struggled a little, but he was overtaken by another memory.

They're sitting at the end of a long pier, bare feet hanging over the edge. He's not old enough to reach the water with his toes yet, but the man sitting next to him has his feet submerged to the ankle.

Tao Wu.

Tao Wu was his father.

The sun is setting on the ocean and the salty breeze ruffles their hair gently. They've been quiet and content for a long time now, but his dad set a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently.

"I have to leave again soon."

The contentment leaves that quickly. Six words, and he feels himself fill with dread. "You just got back. You can't leave again!"

"I know, I know, but they need me on a ship. They're short a few crew. It won't be as long this time, I promise."

"Yeah, okay," he agrees, head hanging. His dad always leaves - it's for work, it's understandable, but it still sucks. Sometimes he wonders if his dad will even make it home.

As if sensing his mood, his dad leans forward until he can look him straight in the eye. "I'm coming back. I always come back, even if we get lost," He pauses, then smile. "What happens when we get lost."

"Aw, c'mon dad. I liked that story when I was four!"

"What happens when we get lost, Feng?"

He sighs, but there's a smile tugging at his mouth. "The whales find you, and they guide you home," he replies.

"That's right. We can always rely on the whales," his dad says. He leans back on his hands and something almost like peace washes over them again. It's not the same easy contentment they had before, but it's still okay.

The whales will always guide him home.

The goddess running her hand along her weapon was terrifying. That was all Gun was sure of. She was intimidating on a level he was certain he'd never manage. She began talking about fear and facing them, and Feng tried to listen, but all he could do was follow the curve of her hand on the blade of the scythe.

He frowned and focused.

Eat or be eaten. Face your fears.

He didn't like the way she seemed to narrow her focus to him specifically. It made him want to fidget and shout out how unworthy he was. Instead, he just took the dagger.

Enough? Enough for what?! It certainly wasn't enough for the creatures outside the shrine. He often had trouble even with his more intricate weapon.

But she sent him off, and he had no choice but to leave as she wished.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He woke up groggy and entirely confused. He couldn't even remember falling asleep. But here he was, freezing and uncomfortable, and.. he turned his head and frowned. Yeah, he was laying on a head metal table.

With a groan he sat up and looked around the room. There wasn't much to look at, for which he was thankful because just blinking against the way-too-bright lights was difficult and painful. Everything was so white.

He hopped off the table and swayed, barely managing to stabilize himself on the table. His first few steps were shaky, and his next few were only marginally better, but somehow he made it to the door on the other side of the room. When he tried the handle it was unlocked, and he breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't trapped.

Though he might as well be, because the hallway beyond was just as bare. He frowned and took a few steps down it, but just as he did something slammed behind him. He turned to see the door he'd just come through closed.

What.

He turned back and opened it again to check inside for anyone who might have been there, and maybe could help him, but there was nothing. Just an empty room.

Had a draft closed the door?

He shrugged and turned back towards the hallways and began to walk. Just as he made it a few more steps, the door slammed shut again and he spun on his heel to figure out what had done it.

Behind him was a dark figure. It hobbled towards him, thudding heavily. There was a scrip scrape sort of sound, and Gun realized the figure was holding scissors. He narrowly managed not to scream, just turned and ran in panic.

40 Feet

He shouldn't have looked back again. He knew he shouldn't have. But he did. Seeing the figure - familiar figure - again sparked another memory.

The rain patters on the window and he swung his feet under the chair sadly. He shouldn't be moping like this, because he know it's not fair. His dad has to work, often,and he can't expect things just to stop because he wants them to.

Still, his birthday was three days ago. He sighs and rests his chin on the window sill to watch the raindrops fall in rivulets down the glass.

His mom comes in and hands him a thin envelope with multiple stamps. It has to be from his dad.

Suddenly excited, he rips it open and immediately scours the page.

Dear Feng,

I'm sorry I will be missing your birthday this year. I tried to request the leave, but we won't be docking anywhere for weeks yet. Hopefully this letter gets to you before then, and you know that I wish you the happiest of birthdays. I'm sure your mom will make your favorite cake again and you'll have a great time.

I'll bring you a present when I can get back. I don't know when that will be yet, but you'll know as soon as I do. Until then, know that I love you, and I'll be guided home. Tell your mother I love her.

Love,
Dad.

It's hastily written, like his dad had barely enough time to write those few sentences. He frowns, no more cheery than he had been before, and lets the letter fall from his fingers. It drifts to the floor and stays there long after he leaves the window for something more worthwhile.

30 Feet

The third memory was more imprints of emotions than anything. It still affected him just as strongly though.

Happiness. So much joy he's bursting at the seams with it. He can smell the ocean, faintly, and feels the rough scrape of weeks old stubble against his cheek. He's so ecstatic, and he can't remember ever feeling this relieve. He remembers his dad's face, soft and smiling, but bone tired, and all he can feel is elation.

His dad made it home. Weeks of no letters, and his dad still made it home. He had no reason to be afraid.

FORGOT TO ROLL

15 Feet

His dad was tall. He remembered that. He remembered that his hair was graying, and he had laugh lines around impossibly dark eyes. He always stood straight and attentive after years of crew training, no matter where he was, and often scolded him for not doing the same. He remembered that his dad had a scar just in front of his ear, and the calloused hands of a man well worked.

He remembered that he dad held him close at night when he was young and they watched late night cartoons. They both loved stuffing their faces with giant marshmallows while watching bugs bunny.

He remembered that he looked up to his dad more than anything, even when he wasn't around.

The trees outside are a shock, if not an absolute relief. He doesn't let himself stop, he just keeps running through the trees. He turned to see how much distance he's put between himself and the building, but the figure is right there.

He let out a distressed whimper and continued to fly through the forest on legs he couldn't even feel anymore until the trees thinned and there was nothing but a bridge. He was wary, but had no choice. He began to - as quickly and carefully as he could - cross it.

But halfway over a wind broke out and shook the entire precarious structure. He clung to the sides and looked down, and that was his mistake. He froze.

The figure drew close until he was right up against Gun, one hand holding his head and one holding his chest.

No. Not holding. One hand thrusting the scissors into his chest.

"Don't worry. It only hurts once."

There was a snip. Then another. There was so much pain that Gun felt tears run freely down his cheeks. And then there was nothing. No pain. No feeling at all.

If you roll a 1: The bridge is rickety, and the distance between you and the pursuer grows close. Treacherous winds begin to sway the bridge, and you make the mistake of looking down. The next thing you know you hear steady thumps on the bridge followed by loud snipping noises. You turn around, and they are right behind you. GAME OVER (move to the game over prompt above).


The last thing you see is a blackened, disfigured body near and a face stare at you, empty and silent. A pair of hands reach towards you, one of them holding onto your head. You can't move. You are paralyzed. You hear a strange thudding sound that increases and realizes it is your Heart.

"Don't worry," coos the voice, "It only hurts once."

There is a loud snip and then a second. You feel the sharp pain only once before that disappears too. The figure walks away, one hand holding your Heart, still beating, the other hand holding a pair of rusted scissors.

The figure steps back, and Gun only has a second to process the scene before he's falling to his knees.

His dad, holding rusted scissors in one hand, and his glowing yellow heart in the other, still steadily beating.