The Island (Open)

Jemmy didn't know what the reaction was all about. The scary man in the tree was pointing a spear at her again. He told them to stay where they were while backing away slowly. Jemmy was confused. She didn't know what to do, but she didn't want to get hit with a spear.

In a moment of panic, she turned around and started to run, screaming as she did so. The balloon followed her, keeping up to her pace.

Today was fraught with complications. First his memory, then his isolated location, next the inedible substances. But never had Vernon imagined that he would be trapped in the forest with something... inhuman. Nothing to his recollection suggested that what Jemmy had done was possible. Although he did linger over the term 'demon'. Perhaps that held some significance, though he prayed not.

As per his instructions, the boy froze in place whilst the little girl departed as fast as she could. Vernon would have thrown his spear, if it hadn't been his only defence. Neither was it exactly aerodynamically competent. Instead he just watched as the abnormal creature vanished into the shrubbery.

"Now look what you did." His mind drifted back to food.

The blonde man turned around and watched the girl ran away, he outstretched his hand and yelled after her Hey! Come back! He turned to the other man in anger Look what I did!?! That was you! You don't just point sharp sticks at little girls! It scares them!

Jemmy ran as hard as she could, sure that a spear was going to stab her in the back at any moment. She was terrified, and she ran until she tripped and fell on her face.

"Ow."

She looked down at her hand, and saw it had been scratched from her fall. It had a little red line, but it wasn't quite bleeding. Still, it hurt. Jemmy cradled her injured hand and started to cry. When she looked back at it, though, her hand had healed completely. She was shocked. Her hand didn't hurt at all anymore. Was that normal?

'Are you okay, Mistress?'

Jemmy looked up, but there was nobody around, nobody except for the red balloon that kept following her around. But balloons couldn't talk, right?

'Mistress?' It wasn't a spoken word, it was something she heard inside her head, and it was definitely coming from the balloon.

Jemmy screamed. "Get away from me!" She ran away from the balloon, which easily matched her pace. It wasn't long before she had run a circle around the small island and ended up back at Metamorphi. "It won't leave me alone."

Vernon's reply was scornful. He held little regard for the feelings of others at this time, "Sharp things scare them? That's both literally and figuratively the point." The stake was lowered, Vernon moved cautiously across the tree, keeping a eye on Meta through foliage. He was equally as scared as that false human pretended to be.

"It's not a girl, anyway. So why treat it like one? She's more of a sentient nut cracker disguising herself as something innocent. Considering I don't know you guys and probably never knew you guys, I'm going to keep pointing pointy things at you until such a time as I'm back in civilisation." Finally grabbing a coconut, Vernon began to drill at it with his weapon, "And maybe even after that."

"You want my advice? If you're not an interdimensional beasty from the planet 'Slaughterlot', then run the hell away. If you are, please bury yourself and die." It was useless, Vernon needed a stone to penetrate the shell. Only now that meant risking getting gobbled up by whatever demons these people were.

(OOC: Soz, short post)

Metamorphi's face was one of confusion and lack of understanding, that was the effect the guys strange words had on him, he seemed a bit overly paranoid, even more than before Uhh...what? Don't you think you're just a tad overreacting?

It seemed that Metamorphi wasn't paying attention to Jemmy. He was busy talking to the scary guy in the tree. Of course, dealing with someone who threatened people with a spear was important, probably more important than dealing with a balloon.

The crazy guy in the tree seemed to think Jemmy and Metamorphi were aliens. Jemmy couldn't remember anything about herself, but she was sure she'd remember being an alien. "We're not monsters," she yelled up at Vernon as she came up behind Metamorphi. "You're the one who's threatening to hurt us, so knock it off. We have bigger problems."

She pointed at the red balloon that was following her. "This balloon is talking to me. What should I do? I know it sounds like I'm crazy, but what if it knows something? What if it could help us get off the island?"

Vernon gasped at the lad's heavy implication.

"Overreacting?! I have woken up, on a deserted island, in the middle of nowhere, without any memories, bordering on starvation, dressed as a prisoner, accompanied by abnormal manifestations. This is exactly the type of situation overreacting was designed for! There is no way we can address this issue without a severe degree of reacting that is thusly overreacting!" Vernon was getting hysterical, a lilt in his voice made his speech shaky, "What part of this situation suggests that we should tackle it with a healthy degree of composure? Eh? There is nothing to do but panic! Run to the hills! Run for your life! The sky is falling! London bridge is burning down! Game over man! Game over!"

Before he could utterly crack, the little girl interrupted. Her mature manner belied her age, which once more made Vernon suspect that she was not all she appeared to be. Regardless, he calmed down. Once he had regained his composure Vernon would ditch these unsavoury characters and go panic somewhere else. For now he sat in the tree panting as Jemmy made a stab at being productive.

"Worth... asking..."

Metamorphi waited for Vernon to finish his incredibly long and insane ramble Just... at least... for gods sake... I give up he sighed, at least the girl was making sense, wait, what was that about talking balloons? He shrugged Am I the only sane one on this island? he muttered to himself, too quietly for them to hear.

The guy in the tree really was crazy. His long rant proved that. Still, he listened to her and said that it couldn't hurt to consult the balloon. Metamorphi, on the other hand, apparently thought she was crazy. Jemmy couldn't really blame him. She was talking to a balloon, after all.

Jemmy looked at the balloon. "Um...Mr. Balloon? How do we get off the island?" She heard the reply in her head. "He says we should fly. But, Mr. Balloon...we can't fly." She waited a few seconds for a response. "He says he knows that, but it's still be best way."

Maybe she had been hoping for too much. Before they could escape the island, they needed to discover who they were. "Who are we? What is my name?" She waited for an answer, and then drooped her head. "He says he doesn't know."

She punched at the balloon, and it bounced away from her, unharmed. "Fine. We'll make our own names. From now on, I am 'Happy.' That sounds like a good name, right? Happy?" Jemmy looked to Metamorphi and Vernon for affirmation.

Humans or not, Vernon had overheard enough of their earlier conversation to know that these two entities were hopelessly lost. Much like himself. Also that they claimed to hold no memories. Given his own predicament, he was inclined to believe the tale. Although this did not alleviate the inherent danger of dealing with goblins, ghosts, and... ghouls. He knew he could not tie his fate to theirs. Once recovered there would be little he could do to prevent being chomped. Assuming the girl did not have that secret desire now.

He had risen as the naming malarkey began, perching precariously on the end of a branch as he crawled to another of an adjacent tree. Instinctively his posture in this favoured a squatting position and he found his legs quite powerful, able to handle his body weight with ease.

"It sounds like a good name. For a monster." Vernon remarked carelessly, "Terrible things need adorable names. Else no one would be fooled." He perhaps allowed Metamorphi to decide next, if the lad was so inclined to choose a name for himself, "And you will call me 'Hombre'. I don't know about you, but I feel Spanish." A lack of accent, appropriate skin tone, or stereotypical passion was not sufficient grounds to deny this possibility. A man could dream!

A heart-stopping crack sounded. The branches broke under Vernon and he plummeted with all the grace of a lemming. He landing roughly on the scrub-matted jungle flooring. There was no movement. In fact, Vernon was in every definition of the term 'dead'.

The blonde youth looked at 'Happy' like she was crazy some more, why did she think the balloon was talking? Didn't she at least have some sense? Although her idea about names made sense, they needed something to identify themselves with. What should he call himself? He assumed he should give himself a non-foreign name, but what was foreign for him? He was Caucasian so he assumed he was either American or European, maybe Australian You can call me... Chris he shrugged. The twig under the man cracked and he fell, Chris tried to catch him but the man hit the ground He's... dead...

Hombre and Chris. These would be her new friends here.

"He died?" Jemmy knew it was a sad thing, but she couldn't stop herself from laughing. "But this is supposed to be a kid's movie."

A growl stopped her laughing. From behind the bushes a large, black panther suddenly pounced. It snarled and approached Jemmy slowly, instead of attacking her immediately.

Jemmy started shivering violently. She was afraid. "No, don't eat me," she said. She pointed at Chris and Hombre. "Eat them. Hombre's already dead, he won't mind."

The panther locked eyes with Jemmy for a moment. Jemmy felt as though she was being judged somehow. The panther narrowed its eyes and her before turning to face Vernon. It would examine him, and then Metamorphi in turn, but it would not attack. Not yet, at least. It wanted to see what their reactions would be when confronted with death.

Confronting death was exactly what Vernon was doing. He was passed its doorstep now. There was only one difference. His soul had been claimed long ago. A long time before the voracious reach of the ever implacable Necati could get involved. Though the embodiment of death was unbiased in his dealings. Those with a monopoly on Vernon's soul were less inclined to be kind. Rather than refrain from passing judgement they held against him his deeds in life. They had been jealous of him, now they despised the snivelling worm that he'd become. Pity was unknown to these creatures.

"Look at me. Oi. You have eyes cause we allow them. You have ears because we are merciful. God is not. Look at me!"

Vernon opened his eyes. He wasn't in the jungle any longer. Instead his torso was constricted in chain, winding all the way from ankle to wrist. His head and arms were locked in a stockade. Sweat poured down his face and he was naked. As naked as when he were first born. These new surroundings were... oh my gosh, they were...

"Gracious. That look on your face. I thought we'd lost it." An amorphous creature lurked in the recesses, breaking and merging with shadow as it slithered to and fro. Although its face could not be seen, a creeping sensation suffocated Vernon. He knew it was watching. "You don't remember a thing. Memory loss is a blessing at times. But an illusion." Something fiery trailed across his back, invoking a shiver "Spiritual feedback. You don't need to recall our time spent together. My dear advocate."

Vernon's voice quavered as he spoke, "A-A-Am I d-dead?"

"Yes. For a long time. But that's old news. There are more important things afoot."

Another voice echoed inside his mind, "Listen to him, simpering at the loss of a half life. The wretch!"

"Eisclyæups. Hardly the time. It's overwhelmed enough as it is. Don't harry the doggone man further." A shadow lunged directly over Vernon, now his head was alight with electrostatic discharge. The bolts hurt him and he did not understand their necessity. "As I was saying. Your Earthbound predicament caught our attention. Someone is playing silly buggers up there. Dabbling in forces even we, alas, would not fair well in provoking."

Elsewhere a gaggle of whispers emanated, "He can't be serious." "Pogglewraith would never be so foolish." "The idea is bad, we should kill the maggot and be done." "Hush you ****ers!"

"But we are nothing if not opportunists." There was an invisible impression that he was smiling, "The Lord of Chaos is afflicted with memory loss also. Much like yourself. As advocate you must take action."

"Action?!" Vernon spluttered.

"Action." Was the terse reply, "You will kill the Lord of Chaos." The unseen audience held a mixed reception of the charge which had been given Vernon, "So listen carefully. For I will tell you how it is to be done. First-"

A screeching bright light engulfed the scene, noise and all.

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Vernon awoke. He was back on Earth, back in his body, returned to the jungle. Something or someone had stuck his inert form. Either on purpose or accidently. It had cut his consultation short. Though that small matter did not make him regretful.

((OOC: Random subplot that may not go anywhere, people? =D ))

Chris' eyes widened in surprise at the arrival of the Panther, well, this would most likely not end well for any of them, nevertheless this creature was a wild animal that relied on instinct, maybe if Chris made himself look big and threatening it would be scared. Chris spread his arms wide and stood as tall as he could, then yelled in defiance at the beast, he realized that this would probably not work too late to realize he would look stupid doing it.