Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was like a little present.

Sarviur walked through the debris uncaringly now, drawn by the little orbs, glowing as warm as sunlight. He could hardly remember sunlight. He'd touched the other ones before, and they had made his heart more whole. This one, too, would help. And he was here, here at last. He peeked back at his approaching companion before taking this one immediately into his arms: the little tendrils curled passively, and he smiled. Warmth...he could hardly remember warmth. It pressed into him insistently, and he felt his core glowing with peace. His Goddess would appreciate this.



And then he was outside the amusement park, gazing at a roller coaster he'd seen so many times before...
25

{Alice - Leia}


There! It was finally in her reach! She could grab them. It took her long enough to grab one of the prizes. Now, how long would it take her to get back from where she was?

RESULTS

To get to the Blessings, you must first make it across the crumbling floor. You need 25 steps to get across.

Roll 1d6 until you get the alotted steps.

25-6=19-2=17-3=15-4=11-3=8-6=2-1=1-1=0! COMPLETED
Claiming:

Longing

The panic rose when he found another batch of cars and crawled over the broken, rusted-shut doors, only to find himself still stationary.

What is the Blue Rose, too, was closed to him now? What if it was only the hallway full of eyes? What if the old beds were forever barred to him, monsters or no? He wished he'd spent more time with the piano. He wished he'd looked more closely at the peeling paint on the swings, once-bright.

He practically flung himself into the next car he found.

"Please-please-please," he whispered. He hadn't done everything he'd wanted to.

Relief turned his stomach as the car shuddered into life. It creaked ominously up the hill.

This was what he'd been afraid of missing. The park spread out below him, all splintered buildings and rusted skeletons of rides, the corpses of concession stands split open and the innards of litter and shattered countertops spilling outwards.

It must have taken a long time to get this way. Time he had no memory of. Time that, he suspected, no one did, except maybe the Goddesses.

The car, bound by the laws of physics even here, or perhaps simply bound by the laws of narrative causality, obligingly paused to let him take in the view, and his throat ached. Nothing he felt made sense.

He didn't have long to dwell on it. Abruptly the track plunged downward, and he was tossed free of the thing when it rattled down to the bottom of the crest. The wind knocked out of him, he lay on the ground and gathered himself. He knew what was next. He knew where he was.

Above him loomed the Swings.

He had a reason now. He felt as though he had been tossed on a wave for the entirety of his short and confusing life and had suddenly found a rope, and realized it was attached to an anchor.

He clung to it. If they were going to take his memories, he was going to make new ones.

He ran his hands over the central column, smoothing up peeling strips of paper and paint to piece together the happy images. Unselfconsciously, unashamed, he bent to smell a twisted scrap of rusted iron that had once felt the sweaty hands of hundreds of nervous giggling riders, as he imagined.

And only when he felt satisfied that he had seen and touched and smelled and felt everything did he continue. He scaled the fence.

After that first step, after a moment of consideration, Amity gently lowered himself to his hands and knees, and then to his stomach. He lay on the floor, with the dust gritty and skin-crawled against his cheek, and he stretched out his hands to feel his way across the boards.

He'd seen it once. He needed the rest of the memories now. He closed his eyes and navigated by touch, and by the smell of the dust.

Entering the park once more, Wyng heads straight for the Roller Coaster knowing that it will take her where she wants to go. Upon reaching it, she is met with a dilemma. Which button to push? Having forgotten which one she pushed before, she picks one at random and gets on the ride. When it starts moving, she believes that it will be just like last time. As it turns out, the ride was nothing like last time's ride and she is jerked one way and another very harshly during the ride.

(14/25)

This new decision to spend time on every sensory detail and all its accompanying emotional feedback had another advantage as well: he realized absently, distantly, with a jolt of relief, that he was no longer thinking.

For some reason wanting not to think seemed as much like a habit as the feeling that he ought to have something in his hands.