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With a huge CRACK that echoes across the world, A gigantic landmass is upheaved from under the ocean, coming to settle in the exact geographic center of the pacific. Huge pillars, too tall and too engineered to have formed naturally, dot the landscape. The Island is quickly explored by various military and privately contracted groups, but nothing of note is found. No material resources are drilled up, no life form or even any evidence of life is found (apart from the pillars), there aren't even any new plants to unearth. After many years of The Island staying inert, it is forgotten about, just one more thing added to the list of unknowns. You were born after the great upheaval, as it has become to be known, and you have always considered The Island as you would any other country. A green mark on a map. However. Even now, even after so many years since The Island first appeared, there are whispers of a tremendous secret, leading to the perfect treasure, laying dormant at the silently beating heart of The Island. >Explore along the shore line >Head inland >Write in
Anonymous
>>5520709 >Explore along the shore line Anonymous
>>5520735 >explore along the shore line You decide to take a left and explore around the shore. Walking along the sandy beach that seems to encircle the entire Island, you don’t find anything of note for about an hour. Then, abruptly, you stumble across some animal tracks pressed into the sand. Growing up on a farm, you recognise that the tracks were made by a hoofed animal, probably a horse of some kind. This seems peculiar to you, as not many people come out to The Island nowadays, and, if they were to, taking a horse as transport would be incredibly inconvenient. Not only that, the distance between the hoof prints indicates a beast of incredible size. The tracks lead off inland, making a b line for one of the pillars that dominate the skyline. Before moving on, you take a closer look at the tracks, and find a strand of what looks like burlap, that, inexplicably, smells strongly of honey.
Do you..
>continue to traverse the shore line >follow the tracks inland >go inland, but don’t follow the tracks >write in Anonymous
>>5520752 >follow the tracks inland Anonymous
>>5521482 >follow the tracks You step off the beach and begin to follow the tracks inland. quickly after leaving the shore, the landscape turns to dense bush, and with each step the tracks become fainter and harder to follow. Eventually the tracks disappear entirely, and the only signs left of the animal is the detritus it caused, broken sticks, ground down leaves and the like. After a long trek, losing and then relocating the trail multiple times, you come to a clearing. And in the center, commanding the entire space around it, stands a pillar. It seems to be made of a kind of sandstone, with intricate grooves and patterns carved into the walls. At about head height, connected to the pillar, there are a group of dark brown lumps. After standing in awe of this behemoth for a few minutes, you notice that the noise of the surrounding forest has stopped. No bird dares call, no bee dare land on a flower, and you yourself are holding your breath, lest you wake this slumbering beast. You catch yourself. That kind of thinking is getting you nowhere. You have a treasure to hunt!
Do you..
>search around the clearing >examine the pillar closer >turn back into the forest >write in Anonymous
>>5521947 >examine the pillar closer Can you tell us about our book, and any other possible thing that we brought to the island?
Anonymous
>>5524820 >>examine the pillar closer >Can you tell us about our book, and any other possible thing that we brought to the island? You draw closer to the pillar, and see the brown lumps on the sides were in fact beehives. They look entirely abandoned, with not even a single worker to hold the fort, but never-the-less a faint humming, so faint as to be barely hearable, is still emanating from them. The grooves and patterns on the walls of the pillar were clearly done by human hand, but they give no indication of who created them. They are not hieroglyphs, simply aesthetically pleasing designs. You circle around the pillar, searching for anything that could have been missed. A way to climb up perhaps, or, if the pillar is hollow, and entrance in. Unfortunately, the stone is far too smooth to climb up, and no entrances are revealed.
.
You decide to take a look at your uncle’s book. You gaze at spreadsheets of the moon's phases and tide schedules, blurry printed JPGs of aerial shots of the island and pillars, and notes written by your uncle himself. Theories and observations. A lot of information that your uncle takes for gospel, looks to you more like conspiracy theories than genuine research. You flick to the section which primarily contains information about the pillars. Your uncle had plenty of ideas about them, what they meant, their funcion, if they have any function at all. Your uncle seems convinced that music plays a key role in revealing the pillar's secret. The pillars acted strangely during the investigation of the island, when a scientist on break played music through a speaker. After a while, tunes started emanating, apparently from around - or even from inside, depending on which report you believe- the pillar. You step back from the pillar. You feel as though you have discovered as much as you can about it for now.
Do you..
>Go trekking through the forest >walk back to the shore line and maneuver around The Island from the outside >write in And you're right, I did kinda skimp out on the supplies, let's say you also brought a lighter and firestarters, the book contains a map of the island, and cigarettes.
Anonymous
>>5524820 >examine the pillar closer Can you tell us about our book, and any other possible thing that we brought to the island?
You draw closer to the pillar, and see the brown lumps on the sides were in fact beehives. They look entirely abandoned, with not even a single worker to hold the fort, but never-the-less a faint humming, so faint as to be barely hearable, is still emanating from them. The grooves and patterns on the walls of the pillar were clearly done by human hand, but they give no indication of who created them. They are not hieroglyphs, simply aesthetically pleasing designs. You circle around the pillar, searching for anything that could have been missed. A way to climb up perhaps, or, if the pillar is hollow, and entrance in. Unfortunately, the stone is far too smooth to climb up, and no entrances are revealed.
.
You decide to take a look at your uncle’s book. You gaze at spreadsheets of the moon's phases and tide schedules, blurry printed JPGs of aerial shots of the island and pillars, and notes written by your uncle himself. Theories and observations. A lot of information that your uncle takes for gospel, looks to you more like conspiracy theories than genuine research. You flick to the section which primarily contains information about the pillars. Your uncle had plenty of ideas about them, what they meant, their funcion, if they have any function at all. Your uncle seems convinced that music plays a key role in revealing the pillar's secret. The pillars acted strangely during the investigation of the island, when a scientist on break played music through a speaker. After a while, tunes started emanating, apparently from around - or even from inside, depending on which report you believe- the pillar. You step back from the pillar. You feel as though you have discovered as much as you can about it for now.
Do you..
>Go trekking through the forest >walk back to the shore line and maneuver around The Island from the outside >write in Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>5525700 oh whoops i thought it didnt post the first time.
Anonymous
>>5525698 >>5525700 >Go trekking through the forest Lets make a torch and light it for going inside, if any part of the forest is thick and dark.
Anonymous
>>5525781 >Go trekking through the forest You start to wander pretty aimlessly through the forest, and get severely lost in the dense greenery. You're convinced you’re just retracing your own steps. Damn! You should have brought a compass! You look up at the nearly setting sun, rays peeking through the treetops, and, shielding your eyes, start walking directly at it. At least you're sure you're going straight now. The trick doesn't work for long though, as the sun soon starts to dip beyond the horizon, and you are plunged into complete darkness. You ought to find shelter soon, it’s already starting to rain, and those clouds look like they’ll bring pretty torrential rainfall. You walk by the dim light of your torch, stumbling around, tripping on tree roots. The rain starts to pour down, drenching your clothes, and instilling within you, a kind of cold that you have never experienced before in your life. The cold drills right to your core, freezing you from the inside out, making it even harder to walk. You carry on walking, but as you trip up more and more, barely being able to go a few steps without collapsing onto the soaking mud that surrounds you, you start to give up hope. Fucking hell. Is this how I’m going to die? What a lackluster way to go. Your eyes start to droop. Maybe you should just lie down and let it happen. Your foot is caught by a rock, and you start to go down once more, maybe for the final time. Laying on the ground, staring up at the clouds. Actually. Hm. they aren't clouds. Hm. The rain seems to have stopped. No… the rain is still going, you're simply not getting pelted on all sides by it. A CAVE! You pull yourself up off the ground. You actually managed to stumble into a cave. Lady luck must be on your side. You sit for a while, catching your breath, and getting your bearings. You stand up, pull out your remarkably dry sleeping bag, strip off all your wet clothes, and clamber inside. Exploring the cave can wait till tomorrow. You need to sleep…
Anonymous
>>5527188 >>5525781 You awake to bird call, after the deepest and soundest sleep you have ever experienced. You pull on your still slightly damp clothes and begin to look around. Last night, this cave felt like a gift from god, but now, standing just in the gaping maw of the cave, you start to feel worried. This could be dangerous. However… this is what you came for. To discover the perfect treasure, one must undergo at least a bit of danger. You venture down into the depths of the cave. The cave becomes narrower and narrower until you're having to sidle through gaps only slightly larger than the width of your body. Once you’re through a particularly taxing section, the cave (which is larger than you first considered) pulls back into a giant underground cavern. Oh man. This is so it. Before charging off down into the cavern though, you do notice a small tunnel, so low to the ground and so thin, you’d have to crawl to get through.
Do you..
>explore the cavern >go through the tunnel >write in Anonymous
>>5527191 >explore the cavern Anonymous
>>5527191 >>go through the tunnel Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>5530045 bruh what if we get stuck and end up like what happened in Nutty Putty Cave or Peak Cavern
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>explore the cavern
Anonymous
>>5528845 >explore the cavern The light of your torch can barely provide enough light to illuminate even a fraction of the cavern. The rock walls seem like cliff faces, and when you stare upwards, you can’t even make out the roof. All you see are the tips of enormous stalactites, threatening to fall at any minute. You stumble onwards, down through the main section of the cavern, ignoring the various smaller offshoots. Onwards still. And still more. You can’t tell how far you have gone, how far underground you are, or even where you are in relation to the exit. Your whole world has become this cavern, and it shows no signs of stopping, or shrinking even slightly. You begin to start worrying slightly. But… what's that? Up in the distance there? It seems to be a structure of some kind, small, and deliberately built. You walk up to it and see what you can only describe as an altar of stone, but not quite stone, with the same grooves and patterns as the pillars. There is a strange feeling from this altar, and you notice that it’s… growing. Out of the rock. Flesh and tendrils. And it’s breathing. Like an organ, or a single cell. This is part of The Island, but it's not the heart. It's the liver. The pancreas. You're disgusted. The altar is evoking the same reaction you would have to seeing a person be decapitated. Living tissue outside the body. You spit at it. You need to have some way of demonstrating to the island your emotions. The spit lands on the altar and it shrinks back in pain, fleeing from the enzymes in the liquid from your mouth. You too pull back. You need to get out of here. The smell is of rotting flesh and days old blood. Before turning and fleeing, you notice a plain knife, the blade made of a white material, presumably bone. Human or animal, you have no idea. You pick it up, throw it in your bag, and sprint back the way you came. You don’t stop sprinting until the altar is out of sight (but not yet out of mind).
Anonymous
>>5531360 Unfortunately, in your haste to leave, you have found yourself lost. You don't remember coming this way. You carry on until you find a crossroads. The one to the left is sloping gently downwards, the other, slightly upwards. It's your call.
>left >right Anonymous
>>5531361 >left We must go deeper!
Anonymous
Anonymous
>>5531834 >left In for a penny, in for a pound. You start down the left passageway, and your skin begins to crawl. It’s like you're wandering about in someone's artery. The feeling is abhorrent, unnatural. However. Every step you take, you feel more and more connected with The Island. You don’t perform heart surgery on someone without creating some kind of bond. You walk on. You haven't had a drink in a long time. Your mouth grows dry, and drier still. You carry on. Your whole journey seems to be made up of walking from place to place. You are still walking. Your torch died a while back, and the spear batteries you brought no longer work, likely due to the rain. You continue, one hand to the walls of the cave. Soon enough, the walls fall away, as does the ceiling, the ground you tread on. The cave is gone, as are all other things. You're alone. An inordinate amount of time passes. Kingdoms rise and fall. Trees grow and die. You carry on waiting, surely They’ll let you see something at some point. More time. And lo. Color. It's everywhere now, this color. These vivid shades and tones. It seeps. Seeps through you and through the space you occupy. ah. it's speaking at you now, but you don’t know the language. It’s coarse to listen to. It grinds you down, smoother and smoother, till you’re nothing but a fine sheet of skin and oh my god it hurts like nothing you have felt before and you wish it would end but it doesn't it keeps going for an age but now you’re awake, covered in sweat, at the entrance of the cave. But that was no dream. Your skin is still raw from the extreme pain it somehow endured. And that knife of bone is still in your bag. You don’t know what to make of the color(s?) you saw. You decide to clear your mind with the one activity you can always rely on. Walking about aimlessly.
Anonymous
>>5534277 You pack up your gear and head off in a direction you pick at semi-random. After walking from dawn to noon, you find yourself in a kind of slum. Buildings made of scrap metal and plastic. You know about these guys. As the island is still not currently recognised by any world government (the US, Canada, and France have all made pretty legally shaky claims to The Island, nothing substantial), The Island is technically a lawless Terra nullius, so people on the run often find themselves here, hiding out. Mostly though, it's just new-age spiritual types on pilgrimages to The Island to connect with gaya or whatever. They often spend quite a bit of time here, so they come to know The Island pretty well. Maybe you should speak to them. You see a couple of people milling about. One is a slightly shady looking guy, brewing some hooch and looking over his shoulder at nothing, there is an elderly couple, the wife reading to her husband, and a middle aged man of about 40, strongly built, fiddling with a bit of metal.
Who do you speak to first?
>Hooch brewer >Elderly couple >middle aged man Anonymous
>>5534278 >Hooch brewer We are thirsty after all
Anonymous
>>5534975 >Hooch brewer You nonchalantly walk over to the man brewing his hooch. He looks only slightly older than you, 30 at the most. He wears dirty, almost totally destroyed jeans, and a tshirt with a band you haven't heard of displayed in the center. He is unshaved. He jolts slightly when he notices you walking over, and becomes even more engrossed in the mess of pipes and buckets in front of him, pretending he hasn’t seen you. He clearly doesn’t particularly want to be bothered, but god damn. That brew looks good, and your throat is mighty dry. You sit down next to him, and, after an excruciatingly drawn out silence, you decide to make the first move. He’s made it pretty clear he isn't. “Hi” you say. “I’m pretty new to The Island. What about you, how long have you been here?” Again, another long pause, but this time you can sense he’s not ignoring you, just taking his time to formulate an answer. He enquires about the date. You inform him. “A little over two years now.” 2 years. That's a long time, especially compared to the upper-middle class hippies who discover the lack of hotels and leave after a week. You’re not sure if it would be considered rude to ask why he’s been here so long, but you’re intrigued and ask anyway. He smiles. “I found myself at a point in my life where I had no other option, I suppose. Too many things were piling up, so I decided to run away. I hope I made the right choice.” he looks down and redirects a tube from one bucket to another. “Do you want some cider?” You would. He hands you a plastic cup, half full of the cider. You take a sip, and start coughing. It's incredibly strong. “I’m Andrew, by the way” he says, quietly. “What about you, do you have a name?”
How do you respond?
(this is just choosing a name, you’ll still keep talking to andrew after this.)
Anonymous
Quoted By:
>>5537400 >"Emin" >Stop sipping for a sec and ask "if this is cider, are there apples on this island?" Anonymous
Quoted By:
>"Emin" >Stop sipping for a sec and ask "if this is cider, are there apples on this island?"
