You stroll along
Chatterbox: Pudding's Place
You stroll along
You stroll along the beardwalk at the beach where you're spending your vacation. The seagulls caw and create a deafening cacophony, but you don't mind. The waves rhythmically crash on the shore. You have only been here for a day, but love it already. Beachgoers set up umbrellas and towels, putting sunscreen on their squirming kids. A paper airplane glides on the sea breeze to land next to you. Out of curiosity, you pick it up. It has your name on it. You unfold it and read the message in it. It says:
Dear CBer,
You have been invited to the Annual Luau of Amazingness at a small island not far from where you are! A boat will come by where you are standing right now to pick you up to go. You will know it because it is bright green and says 'SEA LAND' on it. It will come in two days' time, so be sure to pack your AEs, CAPTCHAs, and any other miscellaneous items! (including machinery, lathes are encouraged) We will not be held responsible for any CBers drowning, getting mauled by sharks, stolen by Krakens, etc. Have fun!
Seraia C., CEO of Sea Land Inc.
You shrug and go back home to pack.
One of you is the murderer, everyone else dies! This is the first time I've done this. Good luck! "No one here is getting out alive!"
(November 26, 2015 - 4:09 pm)
16 people left and I am one of them. Gulp. Great job Scylla
(January 8, 2016 - 1:36 pm)
Day. . . . Is it 9 now?
Somebody wanted to toss Cyclone out the window. Only that would result in imminant flooding, so she restrained herself. Cyclone: The creature that never seemed to sleep. Somebody half-wondered if Cyclone was the murderer. Suddenly bored, she padded off to the Grand Hall for breakfast.
There was no announcement that day, and everyone went off to do what they pleased. Critic A. and Ditty found a secret library through a hidden door in the attic. "Php," Ditty said. "I'd rather be partying." Then he left. Critic was left alone in the library. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scents of dust and old books. There were comfortable plush chairs, perfect for sitting down and reading in, and books. Possible thousands of books, all stacked up on shelves. The shelves, as well as the books, were coated in dust. Critic wondered when the last time someone set foot in the library was. Probably not in a long time. Walking over to the shelves, leaving footprints on the faded, dusty rugs. Hand extended, she looked over the spines of the books, brushing away dust from their spines. Selecting a favorite, she sat down in a chair, sinking down into the plush. Opening the book, she began to read.
The murderer, with the practiced hand of a thief, noiselessly opened the door. Spotting Critic in her chair, it padded silently over. Critic, immersed in her book, paid no mind as the murderer tossed "Carnivorous Enhancer" spell powder over her chair. It sprouted teeth, sharp teeth, and Critic giggled, dazedly brushing them away as she flipped a page with her other hand. Slowly, ever so slowly, the chair swallowed her up, gurgling slightly. Critic, sensing something was wrong, threw down her book. Her eyes were wide with panic as she saw the murderer stand silently by, features cruel and hard. She started to scream, but a strangled squack came out instead as the chair finally finished her off. A fat tongue came out, swiping over its plush lips. Teeth poked out, and, sensing the murderer, the chair opened its maw, hopping toward it. The murderer looked panicked and hurriedly tossed "Passive Powder" spell dust on the chair. It fell still. The murderer brushed dust off its sleeve, stalking out of the library.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
R.I.C. Critic A. Rest In Chair.
(January 8, 2016 - 7:55 pm)
Can I join or is it too late?
(January 9, 2016 - 2:21 am)
I forgot to add- Critic A.'s last thought before the chair swallowed her was, "Ditty's lucky he (?) didn't stay."
WHO'S ALIVE:
Story Spinner (Duh!)
Sir Galahad
Ditty
Elvina
Balletandbow
Sloth
Aquina
Taxicab
Abigail
Shifting Sands
Meox
Somebody
Cyclone
Cho C.
Shadow Dragon
Fruit Basket
WHO'S DEAD:
Elsa
Puck
PieSlingerExtreme
TARDISrider
Joan B. Of Arc
Ookz
Wingnut
Critic A.
Volcano Flame
(January 9, 2016 - 12:33 am)
*starts singing Still Alive from Portal*
" We do what we must
because we can.
For the good of all of us.
Except the ones who are dead.
But there's no sense crying over every mistake.
You just keep on trying till you run out of cake.
And the Science gets done.
And you make a neat gun.
For the people who are still alive."
(January 9, 2016 - 10:40 am)
She. Ditty's a she.
(January 9, 2016 - 4:56 pm)
Sorry, Novelist, but it is way too late to join. The last day to join was November 27th. Again, my apologies.
(January 9, 2016 - 10:28 am)
I am one of the CB'ers, still alive, if anyone wants to guess. If not, that's fine.
(January 12, 2016 - 5:47 pm)
Sorry for not posting, a lot's been going on for me and I haven't found time yet. I probably'll make another installation later today.
(January 16, 2016 - 2:28 pm)
At last, we begin DAY 10! Whoopee. These will only get more sad, so BRACE YOURSELF. Thank you. Now, we begin at the dawn of Day 10 (Part One). . . .
At breakfast, everyone could tell something was wrong. Seraia took Scylla's place at the head of the table, I NEED TO LEAVE NOW I PROMISE TO CONTINUE TOMORROW OR ANOTHER!!
(January 17, 2016 - 11:09 pm)
100th POST!!!
(January 18, 2016 - 11:01 am)
Hey, I was really looking forward to making this thread's centennial! Whatever. As I was writing earlier. . .
Day X Part I
At breakfast, everyone could tell that something was wrong. This may have been because Seraia took Scylla's place at the table. Her features looked worried. "CBers," she began, "Scylla is unwell today, so I will assign activities. Please don't go to the Upper West Wing, which is Scylla's quarters, if I assign the task of Wandering. Once you finish your breakfast, I will pass out number cards. Find the Reagent that has your number on its tag and once your group of three is ready to leave, the Reagent will take you to your designated activity. Now, let's begin."
As she had promised, Seraia handed out numbers. They were 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. The groups were as it follows:
1: Abigail; Sloth; Cyclone
2: Elvina; Shifting; Taxicab
3: Cho; Sir Galahad; Aquina
4: Somebody; Shadow Dragon; Meox
5: Fruit Basket; Balletandbow; Ditty
The groups found their whirling balls of ethereal light, the Reagents, and took off.
*Group 1*
Abigail, Sloth, and Cyclone followed their Reagent down several twists and turns before arriving at a door with a sign over it. The sign read, "Critter Wrangling Room- Be Careful." Be careful? Cyclone thought. Why would I do that? Abigail wondered what on Earth "Critter Wrangling" was. And Sloth just contentedly chomped on a piece of. . . Something. With no further delay, the trio opened the door, stepping through the doorway. . .
*Group 2*
While Group 1 was wrangling some critters, Group 2 was (naturally) riding sharks. Shifting, of course, was delighted. She loved shark-riding. She and her group happily began racing each other through the shark-riding corral. . . .
*Group 3*
Meanwhile, Cho, Sir G., and Aquina were writing stories. A small, lavender kitten sat upon an old desk in the UnSecret NonHidden Library. Small tendrils of mist curled off of it, and its languid gray eyes held an unknown wisdom. The kitten yawned as the three entered, exposing needle-sharp white teeth. It sat up, waiting until Group 3 had taken seats at some desks, and meowed, "My name is Leovie. Welcome to the Prismarine Writing Workshop."
*Group 4*
Somebody, Shadow Dragon, and Meox were assigned Wandering. Meox was a little uneasy, seeing as the last time she'd wandered, she witnessed Volcano Flame being killed. When she saw the sign above the door, she mewled a tiny mew. Somebody stroked her somewhat soothingly as they entered their room, which turned out to be a giant labyrinth, perfect for Wandering.
*Group 5*
Group 5's activity was Music Making. The room their Reagent led them to was large, and a window covered an entire wall, giving the CBers a view of the ocean. Sunlight dappled the room from the windows, creating a lovely pattern on its prismarine-tiled floor. The room was filled with instruments of all manner, and at the center was a grand piano. Group 5 was astonished to see Scylla playing it. "Seraia said you were sick!" Balletandbow cried. "Music is my healer, my meditation," Scylla replied absentmindedly. Her eyes were distant, gazing at something Group 5 could not see. Scylla began a sad song, a song that sang of depression so clear that the CBers could feel it themselves.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
The Story Goes On. . . Who will die now?
(January 18, 2016 - 12:55 pm)
l likest it :D
Cyclone says acty. Act? Take action? Take action for wha-
The murder.
Ahhaaaaa.
(January 18, 2016 - 3:01 pm)
Hey, Shadow Dragon- Do you think we'll get featured in the next Cricket?
That would be cool.
(January 18, 2016 - 3:28 pm)
You should. This is awesome.
(January 18, 2016 - 7:22 pm)