(no subject)

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

You find yourself in a place.

This place, in fact, is somehow, inexplicably, a reflection of your own mind.

There are a few doors scattered around. They don't belong—they are styled to belong to other places. Stepping through the doors lets you visit the places like this that belong to the people you know.

What do you do?

Comments

[standaloneshell.livejournal.com]

Damned if she can help but snoop.

Motoko stands over the mountain, surveying for a moment the sky and the clouds, framed in green. She lets her gaze wander through the trees before moving down the path at a leisurely pace. Well, let's see what this place has to offer.

[andwellallgohome]

The path leads down the mountain, one side sloping off rapidly. It's not well defined so you have to be a little careful.

There's the sound of shots being fired... but not real ones.

Paint rounds?

A girl comes skidding down the incline, she's firing back up at someone further up the hill and checking her slide, hitting a more level spot and running.

She hasn't seen Motoko.

[standaloneshell.livejournal.com]

Motoko follows the kid with her eyes, not moving or speaking, just watching the way the girl moves, then darting her gaze across to see where she's firing at. A training exercise? Kids always looked intense, but this one had had tutoring.

[andwellallgohome]

One shot hits the girl on the slope. Artfully placed a splash of red across her back right between the shoulder blades.

The girl breaks her run and rolls onto her back.



"DEAD!" she yells, folding her arms over her chest with the rifle in her hands.

She's out of the game.

But where did that shot come from...?