(There's a major TL;DR below. It's simply another "story" thread, as put through a survivor / victim of a plane crash. I'll give the readers some control over what he does; a guiding voice, perhaps? You can post suggestions of what the protagonist should do if you like [if anyone has any interest in this, of course.]).
September 8th – Day 3: My name is Richard Wise. I can't describe how I'm feeling right now – tiredness, aches and overwhelming loneliness are all accompanied by happiness, curiosity, joy and wonder. The last thing I remember is boarding a passenger plane and drifting off to sleep for the twelve hour flight. Two days ago, I awoke at dawn, floating on my back and holding my surprisingly buoyant suitcase. Everything was blurry and dull at first. As my eyes adjusted, the first thing I noticed was the fresh air – not like the city, not like Houston. Not even like the hill country, not like anything I've ever smelled. It was vivid and perfect, like a dream. The water was clear, the skies were perfectly blue, and the sun shown brightly through the soft crevices of the clouds. It was... beautiful.
I was calm at first, before the full on realization of what was happening hit me; I was floating in the middle of (what I presumed was) the Atlantic ocean, with nothing but a briefcase and amnesia partial to the past eight or nine hours. I assume my flight crashed in the ocean, but I saw no debris, no anything. With effort, I turned over on to my stomach to see a small, sandy island with a cactus on it; I thought this to be quite strange. As I crawled on to this island and stumbled up, I left my suitcase on the beach (I'm considering swimming back for it; it might have a working camera. I don't remember). The first thing I noticed was another small island about fifty meters off, and another about a hundred meters off to my left. After some careful decisions, I began to swim. I remember swimming faster, with less strain – strange, considering I was (and still am) aching all over. I can't get tired here; I get hungry, but food doesn't seem to have a use to me. It's all very strange.
I suppose I should keep my rambling to a minimum. Upon reaching this small island, I looked back to see the one I had been on, then looked all around; there was only one more island from here, and I could only tell due to the silhouette of a very large tree in the fog (the weather here is unreal; one moment, it's clear as day, and within a minute or two, fog disallows me the luxury of vision past ten meters or so). I took a deep breath, and swam. I climbed on to the bank, discovering this island (unlike the others) was grassy. There was a freshwater lake right in front of me, with plants growing around its bank in places (what a surprise it was to find out it was papyrus, what I am writing on now). I spent the day collecting clay I had found. In retrospect, this wasn't a good idea, as I've no idea how to sculpt it in to something remotely useful as of now. In the last hours of the day, I plucked the seeds of the papyrus and spread them throughout the dirt along the lake's shores. With this, I climbed in to a rather large tree and spent the night.
When I awoke on September 7th, it was barely dawn. I felt fully refreshed, though the aches continued. I slid down the trunk of the tree (noticeably, I seem to be much more athletic than I was. I could never climb very well before) and walked to the cliff overlooking the lake. What I saw overwhelmed me; in one night, the papyrus had grown to tower over me, about three meters tall. Every plant was like this. It was awesome, in every true sense of the word. It was also scary. Here, I began to think that this land I was in was enchanted (as silly as that sounds). Caves are present in every cliff face, and astounding land formations jut from the long island I'm on (crescent shaped, near as I can tell, with several outlying islands in an archipelago fashion). This day, I focused simply on creating pathways around the lake and to my makeshift home. I gathered various materials, and noticed that the various fauna here were friendly; untouched by humanity's taint. This entire land is virgin and filled with resources of which I can use. Through this night, I whittled and fashioned fallen wood I had gathered from trees in to a fairly sturdy hatchet and a fairly sturdy pickaxe I fear will soon fall apart. Near midnight, I stumbled upon a vein of coal. I tested the pickaxe out, and discovered it was not as brittle as I thought; I gathered smooth, hard stone I could shape in to stronger tools as well as several chunks of coal I could break apart and use as fuel. When I got back to my encampment, I soon discovered the coal seemed to be.. strange.. I made a torch with a small chunk so that I could better search out this cave, but I soon found that this torch didn't burn out, and gave off very little smoke and almost no smell. I made a lot of these, and now carry several on my person at any given time, as they're fairly easy to plant in caves.
Today, I did nothing except harvest the valuable papyrus that is now infesting the bank of my river and craft this journal. I now have a couple stone tools, as well as some raw iron ore I found in a hidden cave near the river. In truth, though, something feels wrong; it's too serene here, too joyous. It's unearthly and disturbing, and some caves seem to have impenetrable darkness not even a mass of my torches can pierce. I hear haunting wails and shrieks emanate from these caves at night, and I fear to venture in to them farther than I can see the entrance I came in from. I will update this journal daily, provided I have a steady flow of ink.
September 9th – Day 4: Early this morning, I swam back to the island I washed ashore on and gathered my briefcase. I swear, I remember packing clothes, but nothing like this; I've found an old, waterproof Polaroid camera with a case of paper (I can't rightly say I know the proper name). The eerie thing is, all of my worldly possessions are gone; there was only a camera. It's as if a force wants me to document my stay here. Regardless, I've taken four photographs for both mine... and whomever found this's benefit. It shows none of the caves, only the layout of my settlement. Four days, and it's already getting lonesome...
** Four photographs are stuck to the page with sap. **
When I look this direction, I get a strange sense of foreboding. I feel uncomfortable venturing towards those spires.
I think these islands may be filled with resources; in such a small area, trees thrive. There must be rich soil there.
You can see the work I've put in to my small lake over the past few days; I plan on devoting half of it to agriculture. My only worry is the various forms of fauna that may tread on any crops I may plant.
I also get a strange sense of foreboding if I stay on the island shown for too long.
September 10th – Day 5: I feel joyful today. The air is cool, the breeze blows gently, and I've accomplished much. Just today, I constructed a pier and a rowboat. This will make getting around much easier. The papyrus farm is alive and well, and the water is still fresh and untainted. I've taken several more photographs today.
** Four more photographs are stuck to the page using sap. **
The first is a snapshot of a small, sunken cave I've fully explored. I've encountered something rather strange in this cave. Where water should be pouring in to it, there's only a wall of it; it's as if it's being repelled by an odd force present on this isle. Not any stranger than anything else I've seen, but strange nonetheless.
The second and third is the home I've made in the canopy of a tree; it seems that the branches have intertwined to create ample flooring. It's as if the tree is helping me make it my home. I'm not complaining.
The fourth is of the dock I made, with a still unused rowboat tied in. I think I'll venture out and see if I can find a mainland tomorrow, provided the unearthly fog doesn't crawl in.
I was considering stating 'a mixture of papyrus and bamboo' in the journal, but I decided to go with one of them. It happened to be the one Minepedia stated as the truth at the time.
It can be Bamboo, Reeds or Papyrus but Reeds seem the most obvious. But yes I do like this one and it's nice that it didn't immediately start off with you on top of the world and ready.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Quote from MichaeljMM79 »
Talent didn't go anywhere, it just gets lost in all the noise. You have to find it.
It can be Bamboo, Reeds or Papyrus but Reeds seem the most obvious. But yes I do like this one and it's nice that it didn't immediately start off with you on top of the world and ready.
Pabooreed
Or Papyreedoo.
Regardless, let's not derail this thread in to a discussion of whether it's bamboo, reeds or papyrus.
A voice over on the diary? I would, but my voice is atrocious. At least, I think so. I could probably get my very talented friend to do it, though that would ruin the purpose of having it as a diary (a voice over, that is -- not having my very talented friend whom I am definitely not jealous of in any way do it).
The story is pretty cool, but I feel the exposition is a bit rushed. I'd like to hear about the little things (like gathering minerals, for example) go into a little more detail. And I feel that his emotions are a bit to artificially expressed. I dunno how to explain it, really. Just write it like as if YOU were there, actually sitting around alone while this strange world surrounds you.
But those are just some nitpicks, overall I like it! Keep going!
The story is pretty cool, but I feel the exposition is a bit rushed. I'd like to hear about the little things (like gathering minerals, for example) go into a little more detail. And I feel that his emotions are a bit to artificially expressed. I dunno how to explain it, really. Just write it like as if YOU were there, actually sitting around alone while this strange world surrounds you.
But those are just some nitpicks, overall I like it! Keep going!
Constructive criticism is nice, and I'll take that to heart, but keep in mind the guy just survived a plane crash and is a bit shell shocked due to everything that's going on around here. He'd write about the little things as they became apparent; for now it's "OH MY GOD WHAT TREES GROW IN ONE NIGHT" and "OH MY GOD WHAT ZOMBIES". I'll be sure to add in more detail, but for now, that's my excuse for being lazy with emotions. :B
Quote from Oddix »
toasting in quality bread (probably that kind with multiple grains that is delicious and also good for you)
I like the way you are going with this and how you portray the different feelings of the landscape. (The spires and the island)
Also, if there is no hut or anything yet, mind if you have his housing made out a a large tree you find? I have one in one of my alphas and it just seems qewl. (And Robinson Crusoe-ish XD)
I like the way you are going with this and how you portray the different feelings of the landscape. (The spires and the island)
Also, if there is no hut or anything yet, mind if you have his housing made out a a large tree you find? I have one in one of my alphas and it just seems qewl. (And Robinson Crusoe-ish XD)
It already is. He's been creating a small tree house; you can't really see it, but it has fixated torches and a chest (and crafting table, of course). Ultimately, though, I plan to upgrade to a clay house.
You can; it just takes time. Saplings can, in fact, grow in to large trees.
(Also, I'm going by logic in his world, not what I'd want as the player; would you rather live in the rather uncomfortable canopy of a tree, or a house made of clay?)
September 8th – Day 3: My name is Richard Wise. I can't describe how I'm feeling right now – tiredness, aches and overwhelming loneliness are all accompanied by happiness, curiosity, joy and wonder. The last thing I remember is boarding a passenger plane and drifting off to sleep for the twelve hour flight. Two days ago, I awoke at dawn, floating on my back and holding my surprisingly buoyant suitcase. Everything was blurry and dull at first. As my eyes adjusted, the first thing I noticed was the fresh air – not like the city, not like Houston. Not even like the hill country, not like anything I've ever smelled. It was vivid and perfect, like a dream. The water was clear, the skies were perfectly blue, and the sun shown brightly through the soft crevices of the clouds. It was... beautiful.
I was calm at first, before the full on realization of what was happening hit me; I was floating in the middle of (what I presumed was) the Atlantic ocean, with nothing but a briefcase and amnesia partial to the past eight or nine hours. I assume my flight crashed in the ocean, but I saw no debris, no anything. With effort, I turned over on to my stomach to see a small, sandy island with a cactus on it; I thought this to be quite strange. As I crawled on to this island and stumbled up, I left my suitcase on the beach (I'm considering swimming back for it; it might have a working camera. I don't remember). The first thing I noticed was another small island about fifty meters off, and another about a hundred meters off to my left. After some careful decisions, I began to swim. I remember swimming faster, with less strain – strange, considering I was (and still am) aching all over. I can't get tired here; I get hungry, but food doesn't seem to have a use to me. It's all very strange.
I suppose I should keep my rambling to a minimum. Upon reaching this small island, I looked back to see the one I had been on, then looked all around; there was only one more island from here, and I could only tell due to the silhouette of a very large tree in the fog (the weather here is unreal; one moment, it's clear as day, and within a minute or two, fog disallows me the luxury of vision past ten meters or so). I took a deep breath, and swam. I climbed on to the bank, discovering this island (unlike the others) was grassy. There was a freshwater lake right in front of me, with plants growing around its bank in places (what a surprise it was to find out it was papyrus, what I am writing on now). I spent the day collecting clay I had found. In retrospect, this wasn't a good idea, as I've no idea how to sculpt it in to something remotely useful as of now. In the last hours of the day, I plucked the seeds of the papyrus and spread them throughout the dirt along the lake's shores. With this, I climbed in to a rather large tree and spent the night.
When I awoke on September 7th, it was barely dawn. I felt fully refreshed, though the aches continued. I slid down the trunk of the tree (noticeably, I seem to be much more athletic than I was. I could never climb very well before) and walked to the cliff overlooking the lake. What I saw overwhelmed me; in one night, the papyrus had grown to tower over me, about three meters tall. Every plant was like this. It was awesome, in every true sense of the word. It was also scary. Here, I began to think that this land I was in was enchanted (as silly as that sounds). Caves are present in every cliff face, and astounding land formations jut from the long island I'm on (crescent shaped, near as I can tell, with several outlying islands in an archipelago fashion). This day, I focused simply on creating pathways around the lake and to my makeshift home. I gathered various materials, and noticed that the various fauna here were friendly; untouched by humanity's taint. This entire land is virgin and filled with resources of which I can use. Through this night, I whittled and fashioned fallen wood I had gathered from trees in to a fairly sturdy hatchet and a fairly sturdy pickaxe I fear will soon fall apart. Near midnight, I stumbled upon a vein of coal. I tested the pickaxe out, and discovered it was not as brittle as I thought; I gathered smooth, hard stone I could shape in to stronger tools as well as several chunks of coal I could break apart and use as fuel. When I got back to my encampment, I soon discovered the coal seemed to be.. strange.. I made a torch with a small chunk so that I could better search out this cave, but I soon found that this torch didn't burn out, and gave off very little smoke and almost no smell. I made a lot of these, and now carry several on my person at any given time, as they're fairly easy to plant in caves.
Today, I did nothing except harvest the valuable papyrus that is now infesting the bank of my river and craft this journal. I now have a couple stone tools, as well as some raw iron ore I found in a hidden cave near the river. In truth, though, something feels wrong; it's too serene here, too joyous. It's unearthly and disturbing, and some caves seem to have impenetrable darkness not even a mass of my torches can pierce. I hear haunting wails and shrieks emanate from these caves at night, and I fear to venture in to them farther than I can see the entrance I came in from. I will update this journal daily, provided I have a steady flow of ink.
September 9th – Day 4: Early this morning, I swam back to the island I washed ashore on and gathered my briefcase. I swear, I remember packing clothes, but nothing like this; I've found an old, waterproof Polaroid camera with a case of paper (I can't rightly say I know the proper name). The eerie thing is, all of my worldly possessions are gone; there was only a camera. It's as if a force wants me to document my stay here. Regardless, I've taken four photographs for both mine... and whomever found this's benefit. It shows none of the caves, only the layout of my settlement. Four days, and it's already getting lonesome...
** Four photographs are stuck to the page with sap. **
When I look this direction, I get a strange sense of foreboding. I feel uncomfortable venturing towards those spires.
I think these islands may be filled with resources; in such a small area, trees thrive. There must be rich soil there.
You can see the work I've put in to my small lake over the past few days; I plan on devoting half of it to agriculture. My only worry is the various forms of fauna that may tread on any crops I may plant.
I also get a strange sense of foreboding if I stay on the island shown for too long.
September 10th – Day 5: I feel joyful today. The air is cool, the breeze blows gently, and I've accomplished much. Just today, I constructed a pier and a rowboat. This will make getting around much easier. The papyrus farm is alive and well, and the water is still fresh and untainted. I've taken several more photographs today.
** Four more photographs are stuck to the page using sap. **
The first is a snapshot of a small, sunken cave I've fully explored. I've encountered something rather strange in this cave. Where water should be pouring in to it, there's only a wall of it; it's as if it's being repelled by an odd force present on this isle. Not any stranger than anything else I've seen, but strange nonetheless.
The second and third is the home I've made in the canopy of a tree; it seems that the branches have intertwined to create ample flooring. It's as if the tree is helping me make it my home. I'm not complaining.
The fourth is of the dock I made, with a still unused rowboat tied in. I think I'll venture out and see if I can find a mainland tomorrow, provided the unearthly fog doesn't crawl in.
its bamboo.
But on another note. I like your journal
Also, thanks for liking it. :3
Didn't know you can make Bamboo Paper. Papyrus makes more sense.
Also, great story. Looking forward to reading more in the future.
Visibly, it looks like bamboo.
Functionally, it acts like papyrus.
It is... Papyroo.
http://www.minerwars.com/?aid=640
Requesting we call this new plant Papyroo for now on.
http://www.jmbamboo.com/bamboo_FAQ_info ... o_uses.php
Quote from That page.
Miscellaneous -, airplanes, arrows, fishing poles, fly rods, bee hives, books, buckets, bean poles, blow guns, charcoal, paper, books(some of the earliest known books were written on strips of split bamboo), pens, baskets (every kind imaginable), beer, walking sticks, birdhouses, bird feeders, bows, fountains, bicybles, swings, carts, kites, windmills, jewelry, toys, hammocks, all kinds of containers, back scratchers (I've got one of these and it works great), cannons, carrying poles, crutches, curtains, cribs, cables, charcoal, candle holders, water pipes, oil pipes, tobacco pipes, dirigible, fans, firewood, flag pole, fishing floats, jewelry, kiosk, lanterns, light bulb filiment, bats, writing brushes, wheelbarrows, windmills, scoops, netsuke, polo balls, pole vaulting, paint brushes, umbrellas, rakes, rattles, record needles, concrete reinforcement, rulers, sandals, scoops, back scratchers, shoehorn, sieves, skewers, snow fence, stilts, tipi poles, toothpicks, torches, walking sticks, waterwheels, torches, towel racks, bird cages, curtains, rakes, mats, vases, flooring, hats,plywood, and more.
Pabooreed
Or Papyreedoo.
Regardless, let's not derail this thread in to a discussion of whether it's bamboo, reeds or papyrus.
YOU "UNROLL" THE REEDS.
UNROLLING THE REEDS CREATES A NATURAL PAPER (NOT PAPYRUS THAT IS DIFFERENT).
IT'S LIKE YOU'RE SAYING THERE ARE SHIRT-TREES THAT GIVE YOU SHIRTS.
CAPS IS CRUISE CONTROL FOR COOL, END of DISCUSSION.
Overruled.
The court rules that this silly argument should be put to rest entirely or sent to a thread dedicated to its, er, silliness.
Ninja-edit. Anyway fixed a typo in that.
ON TOPIC:
I enjoy the style you're using for your story. May I suggest you do a voice over?
But those are just some nitpicks, overall I like it! Keep going!
Gimme
OT: I also like your writing.
Constructive criticism is nice, and I'll take that to heart, but keep in mind the guy just survived a plane crash and is a bit shell shocked due to everything that's going on around here. He'd write about the little things as they became apparent; for now it's "OH MY GOD WHAT TREES GROW IN ONE NIGHT" and "OH MY GOD WHAT ZOMBIES". I'll be sure to add in more detail, but for now, that's my excuse for being lazy with emotions. :B
<3
Also, if there is no hut or anything yet, mind if you have his housing made out a a large tree you find? I have one in one of my alphas and it just seems qewl. (And Robinson Crusoe-ish XD)
It already is. He's been creating a small tree house; you can't really see it, but it has fixated torches and a chest (and crafting table, of course). Ultimately, though, I plan to upgrade to a clay house.
I really wish we could cultivate trees to grow and make large tree structures. That would be awesome.... v__v
(Also, I'm going by logic in his world, not what I'd want as the player; would you rather live in the rather uncomfortable canopy of a tree, or a house made of clay?)