>> Paige: Combust

[First Guardian]

Your name is PAIGE.  As was not previously mentioned, it is about six months away from YOUR 17TH BIRTHDAY.  You had a variety of INTERESTS.  On your shelf are numerous SCIENTIFIC RELICS from your inventive past.  On the floor is A RED GEAR RUG that you got when you were really into time travel, though you wish you got an ORANGE RUG instead.  There are also SEVERAL GAMES that you played to completion before promoting them to DUST COLLECTORS.  Needless to say, you have a lot of SENTIMENTAL JUNK.  So much, in fact, that your room is flooded with the trash.  You still have an interest in VIDEO GAMES, though, and have a strong passion for ADVENTURING and reading or writing LITERATURE.  You also enjoy to dance to your old PHONOGRAPH records every once in a while (but only when no one is watching).

Wait, what?

You notice a strange twinkling in the corner of your right eye, and a distinct hissing can be heard. You've been slaving over a new literary masterpiece for a while now, and were just realizing that you do, in fact, require the mortal coil known as 'food.' You were just considering tearing yourself away from your work long enough to find some water and a snack.

Then, shit starts twinkling. And hissing. Just as you're craning your head to pinpoint the location of this commotion, your bookcase erupts in a pillar of flame.

Ah. You suppose that that was the source of aforementioned commotion. It would seem your trusty Bunsen Burner that you never use has spontaneously combusted. Apparently, someone left it running when you weren't looking.

But you never use it.

Curious. The matter could be investigated later, yeah, but for now, precious trinkets are burning to ash!

>> Paige: Save and Salvage Scientific Artifacts!

[Jams Bolero]

UGH! All this SENTIMENTAL JUNK is scattered around on the floor, making it hard to get to the SCIENTIFIC ARTIFACTS. You can't even see your rug. You step on a PILE OF JACKS and scream in pain. Not the best of days. You swear to Omni that you intend to assemble this stuff into a generally sound pile one day-

Wait, why are you worrying about the clutter?! There's things on fire! You run over to the bookshelf, stepping on an inconveniently placed LEGO BASEPLATE as you reach it. Blast it, that's going to leave a mark.

You swiftly retrieve most of your SCIENTIFIC ARTIFACTS from the shelf before the fire reaches them and toss them onto the bed, sans the A BALSA WOOD BIPLANE. Er, wait, just BALSA WOOD BIPLANE. Anyway... you then grab the biplane and lightly toss it, letting it glide onto the bed next to the rest of the artifacts, waiting to examine them later. For now, there's a fire to put out!

Hold on... You only have a clean hoodie on you at the moment, and the hoodie that's already burned is in the bathroom... Maybe it's possible to preserve some of the books as well?

Unfortunately, the fire has spread to the top row of novels and threatens to burn your hand off if you dare attempt save the books. It seems that you will need to get something to put it out first. You promptly dash off to the bathroom to obtain a proper fire-fighting tool before falling over, raising your arms just in time to suspend you over the PILE OF JACKS. Standing on Lego really took a toll on your feet, it's a good thing you didn't burn your hands trying to save some books.

After getting up, you enter the bathroom and notice a charred orange hoodie in the hamper to your left.
You got the BURNT HOODIE!
You engorge the hoodie with cold water from the nearby sink and head back to the bedroom.

Great Gatsby! The fire has spread toward the second row! All your favorite books are on that row and the third! You dash over to the bookshelf, completely ignoring the pain of the LEGO BASEPLATE and immediately start twacking the shelf with the SOAKED HOODIE. Eventually, the fire is put out and it seems like the situation has calmed down. It would probably be best to check out those artifacts sometime soon.

>>Paige: Examine SCIENTIFIC ARTIFACTS

[Jams Bolero]

You begin your examination of these SCIENTIFIC ARTIFACTS with the PRISMIC PYRAMID.  Phew, it's perfectly fine.  You were worried for a second that the intense flames may have caused it to crack from thermal shock.  Or perhaps tossing it on the bed could do the same thing, now that you think about it...  Whatever!  The point is, it's safe, and that's all that really matters.  You decide to hold it up to the light.  A chromatic beam of light shines on the floor, the six colors making a sort of straight rainbow.  Color science never really interested you, it's just that you always wanted to have a prism on your shelf.

You have a quick gander at your BALSA WOOD BIPLANE.  It is also perfectly intact, seeing as you literally just tossed it gently onto the bed.  Then again, it could have snapped in half when you did that.  You should really slow down and focus the next time you have a fire.  Who knows what kind of sentimental junk precious treasure you might lose through your own recklessness?

Less fortunately, it seems that the SPLASH GOGGLES did not come out unscathed.  They are now deformed from the heat, practically useless for actual scientific experimentation.  Not that you care, it's not like you actually enjoy doing science.  You just like learning the stuff.  However, you will miss them, they made a nice fashion accessory.

Looking for your BUNSEN BURNER, you start to panic, thinking that you didn't save it from the fire as you realize it's not on your bed.  Then when you look back at the burn site, you remember that it burst into flames like if you killed a really happy-looking tree or something.  Well, that's a shame.  Blasted fire hazards, always turning themselves on by themselves.  Except, they don't...  What?  Before you go to examine the burn site, you take a moment to consult the question at hand: who turned on the BUNSEN BURNER?

>>Paige: Grab Pistol and Look Out Window

[Jams Bolero]

It is not a pistol, it is a REVOLVER!  However, your PISTOLKIND allows it, so whatever.  You grab your REVOLVER from the top of your games shelf and walk over to the wind-OW.  Dang Lego baseplates!  *BANG*

Now that you're done shooting your SENTIMENTAL JUNK? to smithereens, you head over to the window and examine your surroundings.  Trees, trees and more trees.  At least you got a spot over the canopy, so you can actually see something interesting in the forest, but it makes it rather hard to see anyone who escapes under the roof of the forest.  It would make sense if someone found a way to climb up to your window and turned on your BUNSEN BURNER, but there don't seem to be any branches or grooves in the wooden wall for them to scale your tree fort with.  Certainly strange, but you don't bother thinking too much more into it because your theorizing days are over.  Gave you headaches every day.  After tossing the burner out of the window, you dust off the ashes from the shelf and place the artifacts back on before examining the books.

Well, good thing you finished it today, because the fire engulfed your copy of the Great Gatsby.  Some of the classics, made in a set of white covers with red text, got devoured by the fire as well.  Strangely enough, though, your copy of the Time Traveler came out pretty much unscathed.  The entire bottom row is perfectly fine, the fire never spread that low.  This is less than favorable, you need to tell someone about this.

>>Paige: Pester Friend

[Jams Bolero]

You pull up your TIME-SINKER DESKTOP to pester one of your friends.  Well, you say he's your friend, but you two are more of acquaintances at best.  Nonetheless, he also lives in the Tangled Green, so perhaps this criminal is also trying to burn down that garden of his that he is so dedicated toward.  At the very least, it would help to tell someone of the ludicrous circumstances thus experienced in this treehouse.

[spoiler]--literaryEnthusiast [LE] began pestering nocturnalNerd [NN]--

LE: "Why hello there, Paul.  How does the day fare for you?
LE: That seems less than sanitary.  You should take me as example.
LE: I just burned all my debris away, albeit by accident.
LE: Well, no that's not entirely true.  I am to believe someone left on my bunsen burner so as to burn my house down.
LE: Particularly I am to believe it was someone else because I never use it.
LE: A pretty good strategy, I would say.  I examined beyond my own walls for once and could only see the top of the canopy as usual, so it seems my attempted arsonist plus murderer got away.
LE: I am curious, do you typically get insects in your flora?
LE: Mayhaps some being of the night plotted to sabotage your garden?
LE: If it is a room deep inside your abode, then you likely are not safe.
LE: My bookshelf which my bunsen burner was on, despite being on a shelf by the window, was still located above the canopy.
LE: The wall below it had no crevices suitable for climbing either, so they had to enter the building itself.
LE: That might be a good start.  I aught to climb to my roof and utilize my telescope, now that I think about it.
LE: I shall go do that.  Have a great day, and stay safe.

--literaryEnthusiast [LE] ceased pestering nocturnalNerd [NN]--[/spoiler]


Now that you think about it a second time, what good would using a telescope be if it still did not see through the canopy?  Then again, there are some patches of leaves that allow light to shine through, and perhaps the fiend is passing through a treeless part of the verse?  You decide to head upstairs and examine the rooftop from your flat roof.

Now on your flat roof, there are a variety of small-time activities to participate in.  You have a TELESCOPE to use when you want to go pseudo-star seeing.  To the left is a CHESS BOARD with two somewhat ornate wooden chairs on both sides, placed conveniently in the shade of a branch that stretches quite high above the rest of the trees.  The pale birch floor halts at an acacia footstep that circles the entire border of the roof.  Pretty dangerous, but you are sure you will never have any reason to risk falling off.  Not in a million years.  There are no stairs, just a hatch and ladder that allows access from your room to the roof.  The entire forest is visible from overhead at this height, and you can see all the way to the horizon.

Peering into your TELESCOPE, you start to examine the various light passages in the canopy.  As luck would have it, you have been bested by your own logic as the angle you are standing at only allows sight into two sections of the forest floor, and neither held any signs of suspicious activity.  There are also a few areas where trees refuse to grow, almost like plains, but you could spot movement without your telescope, and there certainly were no signs of mobility in those areas.  You nearly decide to walk downstairs and check one of your various .txt files in your "Social Folder" when a blur passes by the telescope.  It is a good thing you did not actually put down your REVOLVER, because it seems something- or someone- is waiting in the shadows, ever suspiciously...

>>Paige: Strife with ???

[Jams Bolero]

STRIFE!

You engage in combat with the shadowy figure, your trusty REVOLVER at hand.  Your hand moves swiftly in front of you as you aim for a good shot.  The opponent is agile, dashing left and right as it attempts to throw off the gun's trail, but are they faster than a speeding bullet?  The barrel of your REVOLVER gleams in the light of the sun that penetrates the leafy umbrella suspended above your CHESS BOARD.  The guide at the end will not help you with such a hyperactive target, so you shoot and wish for the best.  Your sweaty finger pulls the trigger twice, and the REVOLVER nearly goes flying from both the recoil and your damp palms.

Bingo!  The figure is knocked back from the bullet's impact, less from pain and more from the shock that you even hit at all.  It falls on the ground, trying to acclimate its mind to the reality of its situation.  You back up in the meantime as you fear it may have some trick up its sleeve.  It lies down in a rather uncomfortable position, making it difficult to tell what it is.  The enemy gets up on its four feet slowly, shaking with rage at this blasphemny- wait, scratch that, "blasphemy"- and makes a menacing pose toward you.  It inches toward you at the speed of a caterpillar.  Then, it leaps!  The creature dashing, its claws slashing through the air toward your face.  It seems like this round goes to the enemy, but you catch it with your not burned hands in the nick of time.  Except that you do not catch it in the nick of time, it just wraps its arms around your face instead.  You tear the creature from your face and take a good look at it.

"Charmy!" You say in delight as you  hug the ghost cat.  Charmy died by getting run over by a hoard of ramblin' mushrooms in the forest, strangely enough.  Some strange wizard raided his little kitty grave and tried to use the body for enchanting, but only got to turn him into a sorta-ghost before you found the ethically challenged monster and took out the trash.  Now your cat is in this half ghost state that used to have a purpose before you entered the Omniverse and its anti-ghost physics.  He is by no means strong, but ghosts are rather difficult to kill with high stamina and the like.  Combine this with his speed, and Charmy is quite a difficult beast to take down.

"Bad kitty!" You scold, "Bad!  You don't bite the hand that feeds you!  It's rude, mister!"

"Meow mi-meooow!" Charmy replies begrudgingly, attempting to speak English through his high-pitched, and quite frankly annoying voice.

"Don't talk back to me, young man!  Need I remind you who gives you food and water, or who is so kind as to find a way to scratch you comfortably and then commit to that on an hourly basis?"

"Meh, mya mew me-mowme mya mao momew ma mya."

"Oh, you're lucky I DON'T make you survive as a stray, even if cats are the only domestic pets able to do that.  Whatever, I'm going to check up on my social life."

"Mew momya."

With that discussion out of the way, you give up the ghost with him and... immediately scold yourself for thinking up a pun.  You climb down the ladder and check out your "Birthdays" .txt file on your computer.  Huh, it seems like your associate freskAbenet has celebration involving one revolution of your former Earth coming up soon.  Opening PesterOmni, you decide to pester FA promptly.

[spoiler]-- literaryEnthusiast [LE] began pestering freskAbenet [FA] at ∞∞:∞∞ --

LE: "Good evening."
LE: "How are you doing this day?"
LE: "I am fine, though I would much prefer my bunsen burners not scorch my bookshelf."
LE: "Not all of them, but a slight majority.  Someone must have turned on my burner, since I never do."
LE: "It's fine, you saved stepping on Lego baseplates about five times in the process."
LE: "Anything happening where you are?  Besides your upcoming birthday, of course."
LE: "Indeed, I like to keep tabs on people so I know not to skip out on important details like this."
LE: "Hold on a second, I just got a memo from the brain.  It tells me "You sound like a stalker."  Is that true?"
LE: "Yes?  I am sorry that I sound like a stalker, I just do not like talking to a person and not know it's another solar sweep for them."
LE: "A solar sweep, as in a revolution around the sun?  Great, now I sound like a pretentious stalker."
LE: "If I am making you unconfortable, I can just leave and check back later."
LE: "No, I'm fine, really.  Let's just drop this discussion, for now."
LE: "So, about old man McGee."
LE: "Sorry, typo.  Habernathy."
LE: "Ah, yes. The Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.  That one got burned, sadly.  But I digress, carry on."
LE: "Great Gatsby, sounds like quite an unattractive fellow.  Imagine planting a kiss on that beak."
LE: "Arrogant, perhaps?
LE: "Perhaps rude, sharp-tounged, something along those lines is what I'm getting."
LE: "I think I can get the gist of it, care to continue?"
LE: "No need to stress the details, just keep going.  *Paige bows down rather calmly"
LE: "*Paige gasps in suspense"
LE: "Did you catch what they were saying?"
LE: "This is pretty interesting.  Care to explain?  Or maybe not, for morality's sake?
LE: "I promise I won't tell a soul."
LE: Well, I don't hold grudges very well.  You would have to burn my books to really feel my wrath."
LE: "It's fine, I understand."
LE: "You are welcome.  I hope you have a nice day."
LE: "*Paige bows out of the room"

-- literaryEnthusiast [LE] ceased pestering freskAbenet [FA] at ∞∞:∞∞ --
[/spoiler]

freskAbenet is certainly a fine person, despite her shy nature.  However, you cannot get past two lingering issues she brought up; she misspells and misuses the world "blasphemy," which in itself is heresy.  You only remembered it as soon as you ceased pestering her.  The second is that story; you are fully aware that the story would be worse off if it were spread around that it could do some pretty bad damage, but you can't help but investigate an interesting story.  Just think of the literary potential!  A tale of two star-crossed lovers, forced apart by the dictations of ageism.  ...No, that would be a terrible idea, never mind.  Nonetheless, you start to feel a bit peckish and are in the mood for Krave cereal.

>>Paige: Get Cereal from Kitchen Downstairs

[Jams Bolero]

Next to the ladder leading to the attic is a doorway with a green curtain, designed to imitate the visuals of jungle leaves.  Passing through the curtain, you can see slightly into the canopy as the birds fly through, running into the branches with relatively swift speed.  You walk down the oaken steps to the large section of the house that contains literally everything sans your bedroom and the bathroom next to it.  The stairs lead to a back porch with whitewashed walls and a steel screen atop a rough red brick floor.  The door to the porch is also white washed with a screen in the middle, but it has a fence drilled into the side to prevent Charmy from scratching it up.  There is a table and two chairs on the porch, with a small wooden dungeon for him to go on tiny adventures in.  The door inside is just a little ways through the porch, so you walk over and open the door.

Inside the house, you notice your surroundings for the umpteenth time.  The kitchen is long, with cabinets and counter-tops circled around the walls and sharply turning at the rounded off corners of the room.  Each counter has a white, marble-like top with beige wood cabinets or drawers underneath.  There is enough space for three people to stand side-to-side between the two sides of the kitchen.  Pots and pans hang from the ceiling, available for use at basically any time.  Three doors exist in this room; the back porch is directly behind you, the door straight ahead leads to the dining room, and there is a door faaar to the right which leads into the pantry.  A fridge is placed next to the dining room door, and several foodstuffs are placed atop it.  Your stove is just a few counters down from the fridge, but for now, you only need some Krave.

You open up the fridge and grab a carton of milk.  You place it on the nearby counter, then grab a bowl from one of the cabinets.  You pick up your Krave and pour it into the bowl, filling it nearly to the top before adding the milk.  Obtaining a spoon from one of the drawers, you use it to push the large chunks of chocolate-corny goodness into the milk, making sure each one is lightly coated in milk before serving.  You take your bowl of cereal and carefully walk into the dining room.

The dining room is relatively simple, with a large table of 8 in the center as well as a cabinet against the wall.  Statues and pictures of hens and chickens adorn the room, for some reason.  You never quite understood why your mom decided to hang those up.  There was also a china cabinet against the wall that had plates depicting apples, oranges and other various fruits.  Entering the room, there is a door directly to your left that connects to the den/living room.  You sit down at the mahogany table and eat your breakfast in peace.  Now that you have consumed your food, you have yet to decide what to do next.

>>Paige: Decide What To Do Next

[Jams Bolero]

Because cereal is such a satisfyingly filling food, you are still starving and thus prepare another bowl of Krave.  You go to get the milk when Charmy starts rubbing against your leg.  "Mya mi mya mow mew?" The tiny thing states.  You grab a bowl from one of the cabinets and pour him some milk as well before realizing that there is only enough for one more bowl of cereal.  You will have to get some more later, but for now, you prepare the seconds and head back upstairs to see if anyone has tried to get your attention.

As you walk up the stairs, you hear a familiar ping that signals someone attempting to pester you.  The speed in your step slightly accelerates until you pass through the green curtain and into your room, proceeding to sit at the computer.  You check your messages and notice that luxuriousUncertainty has just recently tried to converse.  As such, it would be best not to keep him waiting.

[spoiler]LE: "The sky, I am doing well, eating some Krave cereal because I am about to keel over from starvation."
LE: "I prefer the cups or the packages of ramen myself, but there is something to be said for convenience."
LE: "After all, is that not what cereal is for?"
LE: "Why bother cooking bacon and eggs when there is a box of scrumptious corn and chocolate lying atop the fridge?"
LE: "There is no point in living past thirty if it conflicts with my pure bacon diet that I literally traded out for cereal a message ago." 
LE: "I am a cereal person, yes, as well as a bacon person when someone else plays the chef.
LE: "When the bacon is cooking, it is practically Thanksgiving once more."
LE: "And time to engorge oneself with delicious food."
LE: "Mayhaps it would be possible to cook some in my room if the fire had not already been demolished?"
LE: "There was a fire in my room earlier today.  Someone turned on my bunsen burner but I am the only one here who could do that."
LE: "I never use it, however, so someone else must have snuck in and done it without my noticing."
LE: "I barely managed to get out scott free in terms of my personal relics, but many of my books were burnt to crisps."
LE: "The classics, typically.  Dorian Gray, A Christmas Carol, the likes.  I just finished the Great Gatsby today before it got burnt."
LE: "Occasionally, yes.  I usually have to do personal chores, though, or deal with scenarios like spontaneous combustion though, so I don't play regularly."
LE: "However, I did not intend to do much today anyway, so I may do that."LE: "How fancy,  precisely?"
LE: "Irony certainly sounds like a good selling point.  What is it called?"
LE: "Did their words hold up?"
LE: "Seems legit.  Where can I obtain such a work of art?"
LE: "That sounds marvelous, I am sure I will know which to download while I browse the site.  Thank you for the information."
LE: "Alright, I shall commune with you another time.  Have a nice day."
LE: *bows and leaves the chatroom*[/spoiler]

Pulling up google, you search "SBURB" and proceed to click on the first link provided.  The site looks surprisingly dependable, as if whoever made it pretended like their lives depended on how good this one page appeared.  A logo reads the game's title in cartoonish green font with a gif of a blue house divided into twelve 3x4 squares, one of which has a corner that pops out and spins a bit before merging back with the main shape.  Green stripes adorn the sides of the page, with a background of clouds that fade into simple images of various symbols in the center.  Hey, that one sort of looks like my rug, you think in your mind.  Paragraphs detailing the game lay below the title, and you read up on them before proceeding to click the links below, thus downloading a server and client version.  It will take a bit of time, however, so you decide to ask a few of your other companions if they have also heard of this Sims-like game.

>>Paige: Pester Chums About SBURB

[Jams Bolero]

[spoiler] -- literaryEnthusiast [LE] began pestering freskAbenet [FA] at XX:XX:XX --



LE: "Hello there, freskAbenet.  Are you continuing to do well?"
LE: "That is good to hear.  If you do not mind, there is something of which I would like to ask."
LE: "Just recently, a mister luxuriusUncertainty has directed me toward this game titled 'SBURB.'"
LE: "Have you heard of it before?"
LE: "Well that certainly is odd timing."
LE: "I am also downloading SBURB right now, both the client and server versions."
LE: "Indeed.  Did he point out a specific website for you to head toward, or simply give you a download himself?"
LE: "Probably an installer.  If it does not specifically state which version, then perhaps the file will install both onto your computer."
LE: "Then again, computer coding is no where near my preference as is writing, so take it with a grain of salt."
LE: "That is fine, the more the merrier."
LE: "If you indeed get a copy of SBURB up and running, perhaps we could get together and play it as well?"
LE: *gives obligatory business card that holds no value
LE: "Ah yes, LU and AP.  They both seem like very charming individuals."
LE: "Actually, strike that."
LE: "avidProcrastinator is charming.  luxuriusUncertainty has more of a... unique flair about him, but likable in his own respects."
LE: "Really?  I have not noticed."
LE: "...I see."
LE: "Well, it is likely that you will find a way to cheer him up."
LE: "That certainly would not make sense.  He pestered me a minute or two ago."
LE: "Or however long it was.  Omniverse time is convoluted."
LE: "Frisk, it is perfectly fine to ask me anything.  You would have to actively try to actually offend me."
LE: "It's fine, no need to worry about it too much."
LE: "On topic, it was not much.  He asked me what's up, how/what/why I am doing, then proceeded to send instructions involving the downloading of SBURB."
LE: "Speaking of that, how goes your download?"
LE: "Excellent.  Another fifteen hours will need to pass before I can begin installing it on my desktop."
LE: *slaps forehead violently
LE: "Pardon the typo, I intended to say 'minutes' rather than 'hours.'"
LE: "Personal typos should never exist.  I feel ashamed for missing such a blatantly obvious and heretical mistake."
LE: "It's a personal gripe if anything, so it is about time to pout about my room and rant about the typo incesasntly."
LE: "That should take up some time while this game prepares its place on the computer."
LE: "Twas an enjoyable chat, FA.  I hope to play with you in SBURB sometime, ta ta."
LE: *waves on the way out the chatroom door


-- literaryEnthusiast [LE] ceased pestering freskAbenet [FA] at XX:XX:XX --[/spoiler]

You look at the download bar at the bottom of your browser.  It is about fifteen minutes to completion, as you told your friend, so you decide to hop on your bed and continue writing your novel before realizing it was burnt to a crisp.  How convenient.  At least you still have a few notebooks, although they are in the living room, so you head in that direction.

* * * * *

You enter the living room from the dining room doorway.  To your immediate left is the front entrance, an ornate set of double doors with stained glass window decor just above it in a half circular arrangement.  Just past that first few feet is the actual living room itself.  There is a couch sat in front of a large flatscreen television with a coffee table sitting a few inches away from the seat.  A loveseat faces away from the dining room toward a fire brick fireplace, whereas a single chair was placed right next to it along with a bookshelf that contained several marble notebooks.  You walk over to the shelf and grab a book to begin rewriting your story.  It was a tale of a scientist who, after the demise of his former friend, is forced to find a new assistant to aid him in his studies.  When he finds him, they begin to bond in a way that allows for so much character development that your eyes would flood with tears.  Something like that, at least, you had not really planned a grand, overarching plot for that story.  Nonetheless, you would be more than willing to show it to friends, however you really do not feel like typing out a novel onto PesterOmni.  You take about twelve minutes or so writing out two and a half sentences before slumping over in the comfort of your chair.  Uugh, you think, why does writing have to be so difficult?  I take advantage of pestering my chums to work on roleplaying and writing, so why is it so tiring?  You get fed up and head back to your room to check on the download.  Writing is not overrated, but you certainly cannot be bothered to redo lost work at the moment.

>>Paige: Check on Download

When I said the door to the living room/den was on the left, I actually meant for it to be on the right.  sorry...

[Jams Bolero]

You pull up PesterOmni and look at your messages.  From what you notice, you have yet to recieve a message from anyone.  In the meantime, you decide to continue conversing with Frisk.

[spoiler]LE: "Hello there, freskAbenet.  Are you continuing to do well?"[/spoiler]

Figures that as soon as you begin conversing with a friend, someone else sends a message.  At least it is someone you intended to check up on. Paul has decided to pester you, so you decide to "grace him with a response."  As if you were so amazing.  Or pretentious.

[spoiler]LE: "Hello there, Paul.  Why yes, I am here.  Did you examine that area you left to check, by any chance?"
LE: "What exactly did you find?"
LE: "Alright then."

LE: "So what are you doing at the moment?"[/spoiler]

Frisk responded almost immediately, and thus you proceed to have a duel conversation.

[spoiler]LE: "That is good to hear.  If you do not mind, there is something of which I would like to ask."
LE: "Just recently, a mister luxuriusUncertainty has directed me toward this game titled 'SBURB.'"
LE: "Have you heard of it before?"
---
LE: "Interesting, I am actually nearly done downloading it right now."
---
LE: "Well that certainly is odd timing."
LE: "I am also downloading SBURB right now, both the client and server versions."
---
LE: "As far as I know, luxuriusUncertainty, avidProcrastinator and freskAbenet are also preparing themselves for SBURB."
---
LE: "Indeed.  Did he point out a specific website for you to head toward, or simply give you a download himself?"
LE: "Probably an installer.  If it does not specifically state which version, then perhaps the file will install both onto your computer."
LE: "Then again, computer coding is no where near my preference as is writing, so take it with a grain of salt."
---
LE: "From what I heard, it seems you informed Frisk about this game as well."
---
LE: "That is fine, the more the merrier."
LE: "If you indeed get a copy of SBURB up and running, perhaps we could get together and play it as well?"
LE: *gives obligatory business card that holds no value
LE: "Ah yes, LU and AP.  They both seem like very charming individuals."
---
LE: "Indeed.  I hope that this does not conflict with the version LU directed me to."
LE: "The website listed two versions, a client and server."
---
LE: "Actually, strike that."
LE: "avidProcrastinator is charming.  luxuriusUncertainty has more of a... unique flair about him, but likable in his own respects."
LE: "Really?  I have not noticed."
LE: "...I see."[/spoiler]

You pause on Frisk's words before shrugging off a thought in the back of your mind.

[spoiler]LE: "Well, it is likely that you will find a way to cheer him up."
LE: "That certainly would not make sense.  He pestered me a minute or two ago."
---
LE: "That would make sense.  I would recommend double checking immediately so installation does not become complicated."
LE: "Even then, however, you could just download both versions from the site itself if you happen to be missing one."
---
LE: "Or however long it was.  Omniverse time is convoluted."
LE: "Frisk, it is perfectly fine to ask me anything.  You would have to actively try to actually offend me."
LE: "It's fine, no need to worry about it too much."
LE: "On topic, it was not much.  He asked me what's up, how/what/why I am doing, then proceeded to send instructions involving the downloading of SBURB."
LE: "Speaking of that, how goes your download?"
LE: "Excellent.  Another fifteen hours will need to pass before I can begin installing it on my desktop."
LE: *slaps forehead violently
LE: "Pardon the typo, I intended to say 'minutes' rather than 'hours.'"
LE: "Personal typos should never exist.  I feel ashamed for missing such a blatantly obvious and heretical mistake."
LE: "It's a personal gripe if anything, so it is about time to pout about my room and rant about the typo incesasntly."
LE: "That should take up some time while this game prepares its place on the computer."
LE: "Twas an enjoyable chat, FA.  I hope to play with you in SBURB sometime, ta ta."
LE: *waves on the way out the chatroom door
---
LE: *formally bows in response 
LE: "Tis pleasureable banter with you as well.  Ta ta."[/spoiler]

By complete surprise, in those few seconds taken to bid farewell to Paul, the download bars finish completely.  How convenient.  You proceed to pull up the installation menu, and up pops an image of a blue spirograph atop a black background.  You cannot help but notice that an upbeat tune is playing to the installation, and it actually sounds really good!  Before you know it, the toes start a-tapping and the knee starts a-bounding, but just as you go to get up and go into full on dance mode in the sanctuary of your home, the screen starts to shift various colors amongst a cloudy background akin to that of the SBURB website.  The entire sequence was surreal and mesmerizing, and as it finishes you immediately wish you could uninstall the whole thing and listen to that tune again.  In fact, you actually end up doing that, and play the whole sequence all over again.  But seriously, enough fooling around.  Time to get to work.

>>Paige: Pull up Client or Server

[Jams Bolero]

You pull up the client and server, both of which request another computer to host the opposite.  While you would normally pester your chums to help you in this situation, you couldn't help but be transfixed by a strange... something pop up beside you.  It appeared to be a simple metal plate with two buttons, YES and NO, and a black screen with a yellow border hovered above it.  The screen read "Use Captchalogues?"  Not sure what it was, you decide to press the YES button.  The screen and buttons fade away, dropping a card in its place.  You pick the card up.  It reads "Tom Swifty Modus."  That certainly seems reliable.  You put it in your hoodie pocket for safe keeping when you are suddenly startled by an inventory menu popping up in front of you.  Pulling out the card and flipping it over, you notice that it has instructions on the back.

"To retrieve an item with the Tom Swifty modus, you have to provide a Tom Swifty pun relative to the item.

EX. "This pun book sure is corny," Tom said amazingly.
"This knife is cutting edge," Tom said sharply.
"I better get my bathing suit on," Tom said swimmingly."

You read the instructions a second time, completely sure what you had done was just a bad joke.  When it is clear that this was reality, you promptly scream at the top of your lungs.  Puns are just the worst.  Your life is just one enormous pun, with you always as the punch line.  If anyone were to say a pun to your face, you would be willing to smack them across the face with few exceptions.  And now this is your primary method of using captchaloguing, whatever that is.  "JUST GREEEEAT!"  You proceed to have a mental breakdown.

After you're done having an episode, you figure now is a good time to test out this modus.  You notice a few items scattered around in the SENTIMENTAL(?) JUNK, particularly a PAIR OF DICE, a BALL & CUP, some POKER CHIPS, and a NEWSBOY CAP.  There were other items that you could come back to later, but for now you decide to practice with these objects.  For some reason, you innately know how to captchalogue these items and the BALL & CUP is sent in one of four slots in your deck.  You wonder if you can pick up multiple items, and successfully pick up the POKER CHIPS.  After you captchalogue the PAIR OF DICE and NEWSBOY CAP, it would seem like a good time to swap out hats.  In an attempt to "equip" the NEWSBOY CAP, it appears that the term "equip" does not seem to apply to the modus.  Begrudgingly, you conform to the demands of the Tom Swifty modus.  "'I wonder if this NEWSBOY CAP is my size,' Paige said fittingly," you mutter in contempt.  The cap appears in your hand, and you swap it out with your BASEBALL CAP.  Instead of replacing the empty slot with the new cap, you toss it on the bed instead.  Upon uttering a poor Tom Swifty to retrieve the PAIR OF DICE, they fly into your bathroom violently.  It seems that obtaining things with this "captchaloguing" is dangerous if not mastered.  As such, the practice continues.  This practice goes on for a couple of minutes as you get aquainted a bit more with the idea.  The PAIR OF DICE is still in the bathroom, so you walk over to retrieve them.

There are several features of the bathroom.  A sink and mirror are located to the right while the bathtub and shower are immediately ahead.  A wall to the left hides the toilet so as to not make bathroom trips too awkward in the case of an accidental entrance.  Next to the porcelain throne is a closet door with several towels and a spot for your clothes hamper to go.  You proceed to return the hamper to the closet and notice your dice near the sink.  As you reenter your bedroom, you figure now would be a good time to talk to someone a bit different from the usual crowd.

>>Paige: Pester Aquaintance

[Jams Bolero]

It feels as if you have dedicated an inordinate quantity of time toward freskAbenet and luxuriusUncertainty.  Having a good banter with Paul could suffice, but you do not particularly feel motivated to do such a thing.  They are all fine people, that is unmistakable, but current conversation partners have felt... limited.  This is probably due to a lack of diversity, a complete failure to experiment and stretch your own boundaries.  Even if your friends are quite easy to chat with, you do not want to appear desperate when really all you are right now is bored.  No, you instead decide to proceed to pull up the account of someone you have not spoken with in a while.  Perhaps they have the change of pace you require.

[spoiler]LE: "Good day to you, violetConfusion.  Are you well?"
LE: "That is good to hear."
LE: "Anything particularly exciting occur recently?"
LE: "Excellent, it seems another member has obtained a copy of SBURB as well."
LE: "The roster just keeps growing."
LE: "As of now, I can safely assure you that Ahmed, Finn, Frisk and Paul have all attained their own copies of SBURB."
LE: "And the both of us, of course."
LE: "There may be others, but as of now these are the only owners of the game that I can recall."
LE: "Seeing as you are essentially the equivalent of Zeus in regards to setting the law, I presume you will be stern with your server?"
LE: "Indeed, rules are to laws as criminals are to theories."
LE: "Theories explain why rules work.  Criminals, especially their actions, detail why rules work and are set in place."
LE: "Hold on one moment, someone is contacting me from an anonymous chumhandle."[/spoiler]
          When your sight has been grabbed by PesterOmni flashing on the taskbar, you realize that violetConfusion had not said anything.  You proceed to click on the icon.  ...This is certainly quite disturbing.  Some fellow titled "ectoBiologist" has decided to pester you.  How coincidental this is, when considering a previous terrible joke regarding stalking.  This particular shade of blue used for their font is somewhat similar to that of LU, albeit darker in tone.  It seems someone prefers a custom hexadecimal number to the defaults.  As of today, you have been experimenting a tad to find something suitable to your specific shade of orange.  Having found a suitable color to use, you proceed to save #FFA500 for your font before speaking with the stranger.

[spoiler]EB: hi paige![/spoiler]
Well that escalated quickly.

[spoiler]LE: "Hello there, anonymous person.  Yes, my name is Paige."
LE: "Would you mind providing your own name so as to stop this from feeling like an example of stalking?"[/spoiler]
Oh, so he's not a stalker.  He's just insane.

[spoiler]LE: "I find that rather hard to believe, considering this is the Omniverse of all places."
LE: "Interesting."
LE: "You have already played SBURB?"
LE: "If that is the case, would you mind elucidating on your methods for success?  General tips and tricks, basic walkthroughs and the likes."
LE: "Apologies for the promptly asking such a selfish question despite having just met you, but preparation is important."
LE: "That sounds feasible."
LE: "If your time scenario is true, then I presume you will not recognize me in my future."
LE: "Despite the fact that the predestination paradox is confusing in its mere existence, as well as the fact that it hardly seems believable."
LE: "But then again, who am I to dictate what is or is not logical in regards to time travel or otherwise bending the laws of time?"
LE: "This Karkat fellow does not seem to be the brightest of individuals in that regard."
LE: "Communication must have been impossible when one knows what the other has not yet spoken of.
LE: "Similar to this conversation, actually."
LE: "Indeed.  A wise decision."
LE: "Or rather, the only decision that is not particularly terrible."
LE: "Yes.  Anything you can give me would be wonderful."
LE: "Anything high in detail could work, but simpler advice will also be helpful for those who can't slog through an entire hyperwebster like I can."
LE: "That would be correct, yes."
LE: "Interesting.  Perhaps I should examine my scientific artifacts as potential candidates for alchemization."
LE: "Please go on, if you will."
LE: "Well, I certainly do not have any of those at the moment.  Something to keep in mind, mayhaps."
LE: "The way you phrase this makes SBURB sound much more in-depth than what I have been told."
LE: "Which basically sums up to "The Sims" in real life."
LE: "Is there more than meets the eye to this game?"
LE: "Space player?  This is getting quite convoluted."
LE: "What on earth is a space player?"
LE: "I apologize, that pun was never intentional."
LE: "These aspects and classes seem like intriguing concepts." 
LE: "Should I grab a cape first?"[/spoiler]
          Upon further reflection, you recall those clouds on the SBURB website with symbols amongst them, and one of which you vaguely remember was blue with the appearance of wind.  Perhaps these "aspects" are related to those?  It was a stretch, but being wrong would just lead to progression after all.

[spoiler]LE: "Hold on a second.  Do these aspects have symbols?"
LE: "I remember seeing some symbols on the SBURB website amongst some clouds."
LE: "One of which looked like my rug."
LE: "I could potentially decipher these symbols for what they are at some point."
LE: "If I ever get the time to do so, that is."
LE: "Not the spirograph, though it was quite mesmerizing."
LE: "I mean symbols atop a background that had specific colors amongst them.  The one that was identical to my rug was a gear with two shades of red for the color scheme, for example."
LE: "Those are the forms of symbols that I am referring to."
LE: "So that is evidence toward me potentially being a time player."
LE: "Figures."
LE: "Then again, it could just be coincidence rapping on my doorway curtain.  Anything else?"
LE: "Probably, yes.  T'was a pleasure to banter with you, John.  Ta ta."
LE: *bows formally on the way out the door*[/spoiler]
          Time.  You have had more than enough of it to get to know the term.  It acted as a record which you could pull out at any time you chose.   The power of altering time in such a way that you could always go back and start anew, completely shielded from typical time travelling tropes like paradoxes.  The power to bring about a better timeline, or save a good outcome so you could completely ruin the past however you want and return without a scratch.  The power to relive any moment over and over and over and over again until you grew tired of it, if ever.  The ability to revert time was one that you intended to use for empathetic and proper purposes.  However, this wielding of time as a tool was too great then, and you still do not feel as if you can handle it once again.  Hopefully this was simply a coincidence and nothing more.

          You wake up from your dejection to realize that you still had VC's tab open.  Closing tabs and completely disconnecting from people on hold simply seems like a waste of time.  Why some people completely disconnect is baffling to you, so much energy could be saved by just keeping it up yet out of the focus.  Nonetheless, you open up your chat window with VC and continue your discussion.

[spoiler]LE: "Alright, I am back.  Apparently some John character decided to pretend he came from the future to talk to me."
LE "He did give me some details about SBURB, however, if you would care to listen."
LE: "You have heard of the game's aspects that are akin to 'the Sims' correct?"
LE: "Apparently, we are to place some 'artefacts' that are presumably free that are necessary to enter an area known as the medium."
LE: "I am also informed that the game is much more akin to a role-playing game than it may appear to be at first."
LE: "There is an alchemy system that involves merging attributes of multiple items into unique combinations.  One of which John said included a portable, hands-free computer."
LE: "This one is a tad confusing, to be frank."
LE: "One important detail that should not be overlooked is prototyping of something called a 'kernel sprite.'"
LE: "It will be recieved from one of the various artefacts."
LE: "From what I gather, you can merge it with an item from your surroundings.  This is necessary before alchemizing some pre-punched card, though he mentioned that out of nowhere."
LE: "If not performed, SBURB may fail to work properly, though how that occurs I am not certain."
LE: "Apparently, a primary candidate for prototyping would be something that has passed away, like a familiar or pet as the sprite will act as your guide throughout the journey."
LE: "Also, the game may have something to do with the apocolypse, but escaping to the medium will prevent our demise from occuring at the hands of whatever event SBURB has in store."
LE: "Trivial details, you know."
LE: "There are also classes and aspects, but I shall refrain from mentioning them any farther."
LE: "Both because I hardly know much about them, and because I have probably droned on far to long about the game."
LE: "That was precisely my reaction."
LE: "I am not sure quite how much we can trust of this character, though his mannerisms were nice and he did not seem to be of ill intent."
LE: "At the very least, I figure I aught to ask if you will act as the leader for our merry little band of adventurers?"
LE: "Well obviously freskAbenet.  She seems bold enough to tell people what the do."
LE: *displays sign with flashing SARCASM written on it
LE: "Text makes interpreting sarcasm difficult."
LE: "At least face to face, it is possible to enunciate and display a sarcastic tone."
LE: "freskAbenet certainly is shy, though.  I do not want to risk banter in an unintentionally offensive manner regarding her, however, so I shall leave it at that.
LE: "Well, now seems like a good time to begin scouring the tangles of the internet for guides to SBURB."
LE: "I bid you adieu.  Until we meet again."
LE: *walks out casually from the chatroom[/spoiler]

          The PesterOmni tab is closed, officially disconnecting from VC.  It seems your font here is unchanged because the window is still open, but that was patched once the conversation ended.  Upon self reflection, you realize that you had lied.  Chatting amongst each other directly would not be better at emphasizing sarcasm in your regards, particularly when one considers that your boyish voice would still be somewhat monotone in such a situation.  Perhaps that is simply the nature of having seen everything that has been offered to you thus far.  This is not acting class, however, and you said you would be surfing the net to uncover more SBURBan details.

          You pull up a web browser and type "SBURB walkthroughs" into Google.  Despite the first few links appearing rather promising, they end up quite useless as the people who wrote them appear... incompetent, to say the least.  Beyond that, none of the other links were at all relevant.  Further inputs, including "SBURB guides", "SBURB tips" and other related searches resulted in the same unhelpful trash.  You could go back and ask that John fellow more about it, but his time foolery still got you worried somehow.  Insane as he was, he insisted upon the fact that he was from the future.  Perhaps you should talk to him?  Or would it be wiser to continue this effort despite the current rate of failure?  What to do, what to do...

>>Paige: Make a decision already!