"Ahhhhh, I think I see." Sam said, "The reason this place isn't conforming to the rules I know to be true is that it plays by different rules. A truly separate reality, not just a difference of perception." He looks around in awe, giddy with anticipation. He turns suddenly to Marlene. "Hello Marlene, my name is Samuel West and this is the greatest day of my life. Do you understand what this means? You and your rude boyfriend come from another world. A different world than mine, or his!" He say, excitedly pointing to the butler before he just starts babbling. "I'm going to need to take samples, and statements, and pictures, I'm going to need my equipment. If I leave will I be able to find my way back? Does this place have internet access?"
Gentlemanvaultboy Member
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- Gentlemanvaultboy 12 yrs ago
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I guess my comfort zone is "eccentric side character."
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Sam turned around. How in the word did people keep sneaking up on him?
"Philosophy?" He replied to the butler. "Thinking about how people exist and thinking with your head and not with your..." He stumbles as the dutch girl starts to cry. "Not with your heart."
Then the other guy vanished before his eyes and the Butlers words really hit home. "Fascinating. So, this? Do you mean this place? Where exactly am I??
"Philosophy?" He replied to the butler. "Thinking about how people exist and thinking with your head and not with your..." He stumbles as the dutch girl starts to cry. "Not with your heart."
Then the other guy vanished before his eyes and the Butlers words really hit home. "Fascinating. So, this? Do you mean this place? Where exactly am I??
"Fascinating. Fascinating! Portal, huh? Could such a thing really exist?" His mind was awash with possibilities. Actual, for real teleportation wasn't something he had experienced before. He'd lost time before, but that was to be expected when you spent your life inside strange pockets of reality. His train of though cut off as the woman from the hallway earlier snuck up on his new conversation partner. "Hello there. Tell me, are you the lady of the house?"
The man perks up at the mention of the Jersey Devil. "Yeah. I swear I almost had the slippery bastard this time, until..." He pauses for a second. "Well, it's not important. Mistook that guy for it, when I saw him." He gestured to the winged man standing in the hallway. "He doesn't seem to know where we are, though, which is odd. This is the Pine Barrens, isn't it?"
The butler had clones? This just kept getting curiouser and curiouser.
Sam had discovered long ago that when asked a question like that about what he'd been up to the truth and an outrageous lie had no practical difference, and so had resolved to at least be an honest man. "I got lost hunting the Jersey Devil. What about you? That other guy said something about you running from the cops?"
Sam had discovered long ago that when asked a question like that about what he'd been up to the truth and an outrageous lie had no practical difference, and so had resolved to at least be an honest man. "I got lost hunting the Jersey Devil. What about you? That other guy said something about you running from the cops?"
"Thank you." He said, moving down the hall past everyone else and disappearing round the corner, feeling at the back of his head. It felt wet. He'd definitely gotten cut by some of those loose branches.
The bathroom was just as lavish as the rest of the hose looked, and the medicine cabinets were fully stocked. He took some peroxide and upended the bottle over his head. Judging by how little sting there was he wasn't messed up too badly, but seeing how he didn't think the bathroom was real anyway he didn't see any reason to be conservative with the stuff. He looked in the mirror, picking out the few problem spots from the white plume of bubbles that sprung up around them, then rinsed his head in the sink and held a hand towel to the problem areas.
With his free hand he reached into his bag and pulled out his camera. Cameras, no matter what, recorded objective reality. He raised it up and snapped a picture while he had the chance, out a view of everyone else, to do so without breaking the bubble and see what sort of place he really was.
He stared at the resulting picture for a few moments, then took another from a different angle. This one he also studied intently before making his way out of the bathroom. He stepped into the hallway, raised his viewfinder, and took a shot of everyone in it.
His pictures were, in order, a shot of the bathroom, a shot of the mirror, and a shot of everyone in the hallway.
"Real." He said, dumbfounded. "Objectively real." A huge grin slowly spread across his face as he surveyed the hallway and its inhabitants. "How absolutely fascinating."
The bathroom was just as lavish as the rest of the hose looked, and the medicine cabinets were fully stocked. He took some peroxide and upended the bottle over his head. Judging by how little sting there was he wasn't messed up too badly, but seeing how he didn't think the bathroom was real anyway he didn't see any reason to be conservative with the stuff. He looked in the mirror, picking out the few problem spots from the white plume of bubbles that sprung up around them, then rinsed his head in the sink and held a hand towel to the problem areas.
With his free hand he reached into his bag and pulled out his camera. Cameras, no matter what, recorded objective reality. He raised it up and snapped a picture while he had the chance, out a view of everyone else, to do so without breaking the bubble and see what sort of place he really was.
He stared at the resulting picture for a few moments, then took another from a different angle. This one he also studied intently before making his way out of the bathroom. He stepped into the hallway, raised his viewfinder, and took a shot of everyone in it.
His pictures were, in order, a shot of the bathroom, a shot of the mirror, and a shot of everyone in the hallway.
"Real." He said, dumbfounded. "Objectively real." A huge grin slowly spread across his face as he surveyed the hallway and its inhabitants. "How absolutely fascinating."
Sam entered the mansion behind him, forming his own theories as he went. The one in the lead at the moment was that he had stumbled upon some late-night LARP. Sometimes a particularly dedicated group of LARPers got so into it that it spawned a bubble of subjective reality for them to play in. They wouldn't realize it, of course. They would just be playing a game, and would remember it as such despite what happened to their avatars. It would also explain what had happened to the Jersey Devil. A being from one subjective reality bubble could not, generally speaking, enter another one. So it would be long gone by now.
Despite that setback, this was a fantastic opportunity. These bubbles, though powerful enough to turn a costume into wings and a big tent into a sprawling estate, were fragile. Anything that took a player out of the game was liable to shatter it. Say, for example, and unexpected third party suddenly showing up and asking strange questions. He never got to study these properly as a result. So, trying to keep as inconspicuous as possible, he slid in beside the doorman and asked "Could you direct me to the restroom?"
Despite that setback, this was a fantastic opportunity. These bubbles, though powerful enough to turn a costume into wings and a big tent into a sprawling estate, were fragile. Anything that took a player out of the game was liable to shatter it. Say, for example, and unexpected third party suddenly showing up and asking strange questions. He never got to study these properly as a result. So, trying to keep as inconspicuous as possible, he slid in beside the doorman and asked "Could you direct me to the restroom?"
Hearing the beating of mighty wings, no doubt his tenacious, slipper quarry swinging around to finish the job, Sam groaned and threw himself into the shrubbery.
He heard something land before the door and a firm knock. He gave a look to the Owlman that had followed him, and the two shared a look that communicated the entire plan. Sam stood quickly, taking the flashlight that he'd had in a death grip since the flight and shining it directly in the creatures face as the Owlman dived out of the shrubbery, claws gleaming and slashing to find purchase.
Of course the Owlman's attack was completely unnoticeable and came to nothing because he, objectively speaking, did not exist and Sam was left shining his beam rather stupidly at someone that was not the Jersey Devil as the Owlman passed unseen through his form and face planted again. He slowly lowered the light as he took in this stranger, but this awkward moment was interrupted by the smiling man that invited them inside.
"Uhhhhhh..." He said, not knowing exactly how to play this. He flicked the flashlight off and gestured to the winged man with it. "After you?"
He heard something land before the door and a firm knock. He gave a look to the Owlman that had followed him, and the two shared a look that communicated the entire plan. Sam stood quickly, taking the flashlight that he'd had in a death grip since the flight and shining it directly in the creatures face as the Owlman dived out of the shrubbery, claws gleaming and slashing to find purchase.
Of course the Owlman's attack was completely unnoticeable and came to nothing because he, objectively speaking, did not exist and Sam was left shining his beam rather stupidly at someone that was not the Jersey Devil as the Owlman passed unseen through his form and face planted again. He slowly lowered the light as he took in this stranger, but this awkward moment was interrupted by the smiling man that invited them inside.
"Uhhhhhh..." He said, not knowing exactly how to play this. He flicked the flashlight off and gestured to the winged man with it. "After you?"
Deep, deep, in the heart of the Pine Barrens a man rushed between the trees. The woods were completely silent, save for the pounding of his feet through the underbrush, the pants of his exertion, and his occasional frantic shouts. Any rational outside observer watching his desperate flight through the woods would be forced to the unfortunate conclusion that Sam West was a madman. He whipped his flashlight around the dark woods, sometimes stopping and focusing the beam on nothing at all and staring at it intently. Sometimes he stopped, or flailed out of the way of some unseen attacker. His words where always some hurried order "TO THE LEFT!" Or "HOLD HIM DOWN!"
Of course, he didn't care how he looked right now. Right now a life and death struggle was taking place before his eyes. He didn't have the time to look sane.
From his perspective the Barrens were filled with noise. Low, guttural roars competed with his pitched shirking screeches. The beating of massive wings, the air of which he could occasionally feel. The constant accompaniment of bushes rattling and branches snapping. It was by this last one that he was able to follow the fight, which by this point he was only able capture fleeting glimpses of in the beam of his light. A raised claw here, a clover hoof there. Sometimes the fight was carried into the treetops and he was showered with debris from above.
It was then that he leaped to the side, as a tangled ball of leathery green skin and feathers dropped from above him. He turned his flashlight on it. The Owlman was on top, feathers ruffled, suit torn, bleeding from numerous wounds. He dug his claws into the Devils chest, thick black blood oozing from between it's talons. The Devil beat its wings furiously, it's goat-like mouth locked around the Owlman's shoulder. It tried to roll, right itself, But every time the Owlman would shift it's weight to keep the Devil pinned.
Sam approached, cautiously. "Hold him steady!" He shouted over the din. "Let him tire himself out!" He looked at his watch. Five O'clock, A.M. It an hour he would be able to get a good look at the Devil in the light of day. Another cryptid he could knock off his list. Sam positively glowed with satisfaction.
Then the Devil managed to get its scrabbling hooves up under the Owlman. It pulled the Owlman in, the suddenly let go as it gave a mighty kick. The Owlman was dislodged and thrown to the side as the Devil righted itself. "No!" Shouted Sam as the creature beat its wing again. As it began to lift off he ran forward and threw himself onto it's back. It let out a surprised roar, but nonetheless kept lifting off. The Owlman rushed to its feet just as the Devil was about to shoot up into the trees, leaping and digging one huge claw into its side as it did.
They were carried up, the off balance Devil weaving through the trees but unable to avoid the branches. Sam pressed his face to the creatures back, enduring the scrapes and impacts as best he could. He heard one last crash, felt no more branches, then opened his eyes. They had burst into some sort of clearing. He could see an ornate mansion all lit up, its gates open and welcoming. Then he realized that he could see all this was because Jersey Devil was nowhere to be found.
Then he started to fall.
He and the Owlman landed in a sorry heap right in front of the open front door. All the air was driven from Sam's lungs and he spent a few chocking seconds trying to get it back and deal with the pain of his belly flop, but at least that was preferable to losing the equipment in his bag. He coughed, sputtered, tried to stand, fell back down, and just laid there for a moment wallowing in his frustration. "We had him." He said, slamming a fist into the soft grass. "He was literally in my grasp."
He took a moment to collect himself before rising and stumbling to the front door. He knocked on the side three times, as loud as he could, and shouted. "Excuse me? Sorry to intrude, I think I might need some help. Can I use your washroom?"
Of course, he didn't care how he looked right now. Right now a life and death struggle was taking place before his eyes. He didn't have the time to look sane.
From his perspective the Barrens were filled with noise. Low, guttural roars competed with his pitched shirking screeches. The beating of massive wings, the air of which he could occasionally feel. The constant accompaniment of bushes rattling and branches snapping. It was by this last one that he was able to follow the fight, which by this point he was only able capture fleeting glimpses of in the beam of his light. A raised claw here, a clover hoof there. Sometimes the fight was carried into the treetops and he was showered with debris from above.
It was then that he leaped to the side, as a tangled ball of leathery green skin and feathers dropped from above him. He turned his flashlight on it. The Owlman was on top, feathers ruffled, suit torn, bleeding from numerous wounds. He dug his claws into the Devils chest, thick black blood oozing from between it's talons. The Devil beat its wings furiously, it's goat-like mouth locked around the Owlman's shoulder. It tried to roll, right itself, But every time the Owlman would shift it's weight to keep the Devil pinned.
Sam approached, cautiously. "Hold him steady!" He shouted over the din. "Let him tire himself out!" He looked at his watch. Five O'clock, A.M. It an hour he would be able to get a good look at the Devil in the light of day. Another cryptid he could knock off his list. Sam positively glowed with satisfaction.
Then the Devil managed to get its scrabbling hooves up under the Owlman. It pulled the Owlman in, the suddenly let go as it gave a mighty kick. The Owlman was dislodged and thrown to the side as the Devil righted itself. "No!" Shouted Sam as the creature beat its wing again. As it began to lift off he ran forward and threw himself onto it's back. It let out a surprised roar, but nonetheless kept lifting off. The Owlman rushed to its feet just as the Devil was about to shoot up into the trees, leaping and digging one huge claw into its side as it did.
They were carried up, the off balance Devil weaving through the trees but unable to avoid the branches. Sam pressed his face to the creatures back, enduring the scrapes and impacts as best he could. He heard one last crash, felt no more branches, then opened his eyes. They had burst into some sort of clearing. He could see an ornate mansion all lit up, its gates open and welcoming. Then he realized that he could see all this was because Jersey Devil was nowhere to be found.
Then he started to fall.
He and the Owlman landed in a sorry heap right in front of the open front door. All the air was driven from Sam's lungs and he spent a few chocking seconds trying to get it back and deal with the pain of his belly flop, but at least that was preferable to losing the equipment in his bag. He coughed, sputtered, tried to stand, fell back down, and just laid there for a moment wallowing in his frustration. "We had him." He said, slamming a fist into the soft grass. "He was literally in my grasp."
He took a moment to collect himself before rising and stumbling to the front door. He knocked on the side three times, as loud as he could, and shouted. "Excuse me? Sorry to intrude, I think I might need some help. Can I use your washroom?"
Name: Sam West
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Appearance: A short, boyish looking man with red hair and a smattering of freckles. Wearing a blue, button up shirt under a green jacket and bluejeans. Also wearing a backpack.
Personality: A man of entirely too open a mind for his own good and possessed by an almost insatiable curiosity. If something catches his interests it will be doggedly pursued and documented to the best of his ability. An obsessive type that loves to listen and dismisses nothing out of hand.
Universe: Original universe.
Abilities: Sam can "step sideways" into other peoples perceptions of reality, seeing and interacting with the world as it appears to them. This allows him to physically interact with these people delusions and hallucination. He can also access what he calls "pockets of subjective reality," which are the result of a large number of people earnestly believing one thing. For example, if enough people believe that FEMA has built internment camps underneath Walmarts then he would be able to find and explore them despite the fact that they don't actually exist.
In addition, he can also bring people inside his perception. It is here that they meet the Owlman.
The Owlman is an urban legend that Sam created, and is always lingering somewhere in his perception. It possesses superior strength and speed to any human, razor sharp talons, and will regenerate hours later if killed because it's not truly alive. The creature acts as his loyal bodyguard. Once someone has met the Owlman they will be able to perceive the Owlman for the rest of their lives.
Items/Equipment: A journal, pens, an expensive camcorder, an equally expensive digital camera.
History: Sam had a harrowing experience with a living urban legend when he was a teenager, and through that developed his ability to step into the perceptions of others to experience their reality. Since then he's been studying and, once graduating from high school, has been on an extended road trip chronicling the delusions of others through personally experiencing them and helping where he could. He stumbles upon the mansion while on the hunt for his personal white whale: the Jersey Devil.
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Appearance: A short, boyish looking man with red hair and a smattering of freckles. Wearing a blue, button up shirt under a green jacket and bluejeans. Also wearing a backpack.
Personality: A man of entirely too open a mind for his own good and possessed by an almost insatiable curiosity. If something catches his interests it will be doggedly pursued and documented to the best of his ability. An obsessive type that loves to listen and dismisses nothing out of hand.
Universe: Original universe.
Abilities: Sam can "step sideways" into other peoples perceptions of reality, seeing and interacting with the world as it appears to them. This allows him to physically interact with these people delusions and hallucination. He can also access what he calls "pockets of subjective reality," which are the result of a large number of people earnestly believing one thing. For example, if enough people believe that FEMA has built internment camps underneath Walmarts then he would be able to find and explore them despite the fact that they don't actually exist.
In addition, he can also bring people inside his perception. It is here that they meet the Owlman.
The Owlman is an urban legend that Sam created, and is always lingering somewhere in his perception. It possesses superior strength and speed to any human, razor sharp talons, and will regenerate hours later if killed because it's not truly alive. The creature acts as his loyal bodyguard. Once someone has met the Owlman they will be able to perceive the Owlman for the rest of their lives.
Items/Equipment: A journal, pens, an expensive camcorder, an equally expensive digital camera.
History: Sam had a harrowing experience with a living urban legend when he was a teenager, and through that developed his ability to step into the perceptions of others to experience their reality. Since then he's been studying and, once graduating from high school, has been on an extended road trip chronicling the delusions of others through personally experiencing them and helping where he could. He stumbles upon the mansion while on the hunt for his personal white whale: the Jersey Devil.
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