05-28-2016, 09:08 PM
Sand blew all around Jams as a sudden and unexpected gust of wind blew across the barren plains. He coughed violently as some of the rocky granules flew into his mouth, then proceeded to spit out as much of the dust as possible. "Eugh, that was terrible!" Jams reacted disgustedly, "It's like Kindergarten, first grade all over again! Wait, what? Did I ever eat sand back then- Oh hey, a town!" Jams was so busy with the sand in his pie hole that he completely forgot about the town that he had been walking toward. The dunes up to here were mostly just sand and stone, with the occasional rough plant like cacti here and there. When his temporary vehicle broke down, he was stranded and had to walk home from four hours away in the dunes. In a car.
At EIGHTY MILES PER HOUR!!" he screamed violently, his thoughts merging with his voice without him realizing it.
Walking through the town, Jams couldn't help but notice the prevailing silence. It was so quiet that he was sure he could hear a pin drop; that is, if anyone was around to do that. Actually, no, that didn't describe it quite well; if negative decibels existed, one would be able to hear them in this town because it was so quiet. There were only three streets of just under 20 houses. Most of them were made of a hard wood, likely pine, that had been painted black or at least a really dark grey and used both as walls and the floors. A couple of outliers were instead made of rough cobblestone, particularly the Sheriff's office and the nearby county verse jail. Excluding the blackwashed portals of the cobblestone structures that were rotting away at the cruel hands of time, most of the buildings had no doors. Instead, they had red curtains that shielded view from the outside, though several of them had holes in them or were even straight up torn to shreds. The path of each street was nothing more than a rough pattern of large and small stones at least the size of one's fist, separated by walls of dirt and giving off a vague outline of the path overall. A cart or two were left behind for some reason, as if everyone in the town had suddenly disappeared...
"Oh well! No need to worry about that now!" Jams thought aloud, shrugging to no one as he spoke. He decided to walk into the nearby saloon, noticing a couple of pine rocking chairs outside sitting next to barrels that carried checker boards on them. As he entered the building, he couldn't help but notice that there was a nearby piano for him to play on. He shuffled through the various barrel seats and pine tables to the piano next to the milk bar. It was painted black like the walls of the buildings, with white and black keys absolutely caked in dust and fingerprints. It was beginning to fall apart at the top, where a cover shielded the strings inside from harm. Before he could begin playing, however, it seemed someone had gotten the ghost... as in, something got to the ghastly piano before him. It played a neat little ragtime tune that left Jams dancing. He was having quite a fun time with what he presumed to be a ghost or something playing the piano.
A drink promptly appeared on the counter, a singular can of Cory Cola next to a frosted mug, as if someone was serving Jams a toast for his visit. He promptly took the can and poured out its contents into the mug, thanking the air in front of him for giving him the drink. Taking a sip, he indeed verified that it was not poison. For a second, Jams figured that maybe this was all in his mind, that this was simply a mirage from him simply trekking the desert for so long... But screw it, this soda is pretty fricking delicious and he ain't gonna stop guzzling it for the life of him! Then again, it was far more likely that he just accidentally summoned a soda when he didn't notice it, and the piano was simply haunted or something... Nonetheless, Jams felt welcome in the town, and that's all he could hope for!
The boy in red prancing, the keys on the piano dancing, it seemed as if everything was going to be alright. Little did he realize that there was someone else lurking in the shadows of this little ghost town...
At EIGHTY MILES PER HOUR!!" he screamed violently, his thoughts merging with his voice without him realizing it.
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Walking through the town, Jams couldn't help but notice the prevailing silence. It was so quiet that he was sure he could hear a pin drop; that is, if anyone was around to do that. Actually, no, that didn't describe it quite well; if negative decibels existed, one would be able to hear them in this town because it was so quiet. There were only three streets of just under 20 houses. Most of them were made of a hard wood, likely pine, that had been painted black or at least a really dark grey and used both as walls and the floors. A couple of outliers were instead made of rough cobblestone, particularly the Sheriff's office and the nearby county verse jail. Excluding the blackwashed portals of the cobblestone structures that were rotting away at the cruel hands of time, most of the buildings had no doors. Instead, they had red curtains that shielded view from the outside, though several of them had holes in them or were even straight up torn to shreds. The path of each street was nothing more than a rough pattern of large and small stones at least the size of one's fist, separated by walls of dirt and giving off a vague outline of the path overall. A cart or two were left behind for some reason, as if everyone in the town had suddenly disappeared...
"Oh well! No need to worry about that now!" Jams thought aloud, shrugging to no one as he spoke. He decided to walk into the nearby saloon, noticing a couple of pine rocking chairs outside sitting next to barrels that carried checker boards on them. As he entered the building, he couldn't help but notice that there was a nearby piano for him to play on. He shuffled through the various barrel seats and pine tables to the piano next to the milk bar. It was painted black like the walls of the buildings, with white and black keys absolutely caked in dust and fingerprints. It was beginning to fall apart at the top, where a cover shielded the strings inside from harm. Before he could begin playing, however, it seemed someone had gotten the ghost... as in, something got to the ghastly piano before him. It played a neat little ragtime tune that left Jams dancing. He was having quite a fun time with what he presumed to be a ghost or something playing the piano.
A drink promptly appeared on the counter, a singular can of Cory Cola next to a frosted mug, as if someone was serving Jams a toast for his visit. He promptly took the can and poured out its contents into the mug, thanking the air in front of him for giving him the drink. Taking a sip, he indeed verified that it was not poison. For a second, Jams figured that maybe this was all in his mind, that this was simply a mirage from him simply trekking the desert for so long... But screw it, this soda is pretty fricking delicious and he ain't gonna stop guzzling it for the life of him! Then again, it was far more likely that he just accidentally summoned a soda when he didn't notice it, and the piano was simply haunted or something... Nonetheless, Jams felt welcome in the town, and that's all he could hope for!
The boy in red prancing, the keys on the piano dancing, it seemed as if everything was going to be alright. Little did he realize that there was someone else lurking in the shadows of this little ghost town...
Quote:INTRO POST
800 WORDS
...
BACK TO YOU, PHIL YUKKI
Death Count: 0
Banish Count: 0
Banish Count: 0