A World, A Part

The Outlands. A plane that exists just outside the boundaries of all planes and yet far far away from any in many ways. Here lie lingering scraps of planes whose time has passed. Small islands of structures ranging from barely large enough to stand on to enough to build a mansion hang untethered on a backdrop of dartmouth green nothingness that seems to provide sourceless, if a bit dim, light. This light shifts as man sized translucent squid-like creatures float around, always in movement if lacking a clear destination. A careful observer will note that the islands, while they vary drastically in architectural style and construction materials, are all entirely the ruins of sapient made structures.

There is no air or anything all of for sustenance here but, some quality of the place negates the need for such things. Sound still travels, if not particularly far, not that it seems to much matter as there is very little to hear. Gravity seems to tenuously hang on to the islands but, only for so long as you are touching them. It is as easy to go up and down as it is side to side. Though that would falsely imply it was possible to tell the difference in such a place.

Each of you, for whatever reason, spot the movement of the others and gather to a nearby larger island. Upon initial attempts it appears you cannot understand any of the others' methods of communication. Still, you each sense you were more than you once were in some undefinable way and will not let that stop you. You will find a way.

---

Right, so each of you roll a skill of your choosing that matches with your attempt to forge a method of communicating that will work for all of you.

Jingle Bell watched the wide array of creatures before her. A few looked vaguely like some toys she had seen once - they had fallen out of Santa's sack, and one poor child had gone giftless for the holidays. They made up for it next year, of course, but still...

Some seemed... not exactly familiar, but they certainly didn't seem outrageously out of place. Maybe they could be friends?

She thought. And thought. They couldn't communicate? Well, she'd try.

The reindeer scratched crude human language into the ground with one hoof.

((Precision check: Roll(1d20)+8:
9,+8
Total:17))

Fallen Arches sees these other beings, could they perhaps be the minions he needed to finally bring his enemies to their knees? There is only one way to find out... communicate...

Perhaps if he just gave them some form of dominance display, so they would understand he should be their master!

Then he begins to perform some bizarre interpretive dance.

(Acrobatics 1d20 +6: 12+6 = 18)

Gnarl had been somewhat silent throughout the proceedings.

In his opinion, there had been nothing worth saying anyway. This wasn't his home. These weren't his people. They were small, and they were strange, and Gnarl liked neither quality.

But at the same time, they were the first companionship of any sort he had had in months. Perhaps longer. Though they would never be his first choice, with their colored furs and protrusions from their heads and clanking of strange skins and bits of machinery, it has often been said that beggars can't be choosers.

Gnarl's home did not have that saying. If they had had it, Gnarl would not have liked it very much.

Still, that left the problem, as has been previously stated, of communication. The floralossus scratched his chin, loose bark falling from his jawline. It had been so long since he'd used magic...had any reason to use magic. His skills might be rotting a little. But maybe, if he could clear his mind...

Spoiler:

Preliminary analysis complete. Results:
Location appears to be a different universe. P = 0.0005.
Slight changes in most cosmological constants. Differences with "home universe" well within error margins for long-term functioning.
Current surroundings cannot be explained by extrapolation of known natural laws. Measurements are constant, indicating no malfunction in measuring equipment. Further research will be required.
Detected life forms. Forms do not occur in database. Closest match: Earth reindeer. Sending probe to analyse body structure for communication purposes.

A few (invisibly small) nanobots break off from the main structure (currently having no particular shape), and head towards Jingle, trying to analyse the creature's DNA-equivalent and brain structure for comparison to known sentients.

Roll:

Dynamo, didn't understand both where she was, or what was going on, but tried to use her big robotic brain to figure out what the other races were trying to say to her. By cross referencing what the others were saying with all of the known languages she could recall from her home universe.

history check:

The Reaper uses it's scythe in an interpretive dance routine (don't ask where it learned that) with a general meaning of "What language do you speak?"
Roll (Acrobatics: Scythe based interpretive dance...wait what?)

Roll:

Kyath was intrigued by this variety of beings collected on the island, and watched, chittering amusedly at their attempts to communicate with each other. After a short while, he decided he'd had enough and just projected his thoughts directly into the Reindeer's mind.

This is greatly amusing, but why are we all stood here for no apparent reason?


---------------------------------------------
Telepathy FTW

After a while of trying to communicate you eventually create a method of communication that simply convinces the other people you're trying to communicate with that you've "spoken" in a way they can understand. You also made a written language that involves the the letters dancing around on whatever you wrote them on to express their full meaning (so basically it's more or less incomprehensible to most beings who aren't you guys).

You've also managed to learn that you all share the same unique power when your writing manages to open a portal (in a nearby doorway that had nothing on the other side) to a new, blank, plane of existence that you all suddenly know belongs to you. (Imagine that the doorway opening is really impressive in ways I could not possibly describe.)

Dynamo is totally confused by this turn of events, but figures entering her blank realm that was shared by these fellow beings would only lead to more answers. So she walks into the portal... And starts by trying to add a world to this blank realm to start things off.

(OOC: Ok, not totally sure what I do now. But I think I roll a 1d8+3 and that'll do something?
Here goes: 1D8+3 => [ 7 ] +3 = 10 (addition) )

Dynamo gets an internal error message that reads: Error: Insufficient Resources.

The Reaper warily gives the new existence a poke with the butt of it's scythe.

Looking around at the sudden appearance of the doorway, Fallen Arches has an epiphany! He is meant to be a god of this new realm, and maybe these others are lesser ones... I guess.

"This seems to be a great boon," he intones. "Soon this new world will see my powers and despair! ...How do we put a world there?"

Sadly(?) for the reaper there isn't really anything to poke. If you weren't the makers of this realm you wouldn't even be able to tell where you were poking, not to imply it's a dark space-like void. Nope, simply nothingness. Not even darkness.

New Data from unknown source. Adjusting previous judgement on mission status. Location potentially suitable to human habitation. Entering mission Phase Two.


"I would assume that creating an entirely new world requires resources. Some aspects of these.... abilities appear to be suitable for harvesting raw materials.
As a side note, my current form is intended to be temporary, and is not suited to the current environment.
Miss jingle, your total mass appears to be about equal to my own. Would you mind if I copied your basic physical shape?"
((OOC: I'm assuming we got a basic understanding of the world crafting skills, along with the knowledge about the plane))

The Reaper goes to find a rock, or similar substitute, to throw through the portal.
Roll (Perception: Rock hunt! )

Roll:

Spoiler:

Ramsus wrote:Dynamo gets an internal error message that reads: Error: Insufficient Resources.

Dynamo mmms.... "Where do I gain resources?" She wonders aloud on the other side of the portal... And most likely then gets hit by a rock...

The reaper throws a piece of rubble (there are no actual un-crafted rocks anywhere in the Outlands) through and, after it hits Dynamo, it tumbles around through the emptiness. It occurs to you all that physically importing objects would be an incredibly slow way of making things.

Dynamo ponders the problem of where to get resources and comes to the conclusion that you'd have to acquire them from other planes where those things originate or at least have forces (possibly beings) who possess them, in a similar way to your possession of this new plane.

---

Yeah, you guys have a rough understanding of your abilities now. Though how you know each other's names without introductions, I have no clue. =P

"Um..." Jingle looked at the robot. "Sure?" She turned around to face the portal before her. The reindeer tapped it tentatively with one hoof.

Gnarl was beginning to regret his magical intervention. Perhaps beggars could be choosers after all; not that he knew anything about begging or metaphors. What he did have a good idea of was what these small ones were saying now. He was not particularly impressed.

"Hrmph," he intonanted.

Ramsus wrote:Yeah, you guys have a rough understanding of your abilities now. Though how you know each other's names without introductions, I have no clue. =P

((We created a language together without introducing ourselves? Oh my, where are our manners))

Secondary option may be required. Scanning local lifeforms
The VNS attempts a closer look at the flying squid-like creatures, trying to work out their basic structure. And possible ways to emulate them without access to the peculiar physcal rules of the current environment.

Spoiler:

Edit:
In response, the VNS morphs, slowly flowing into a shape similar to the reindeer's. Instead of the brown fur of the biological creature, it has a shiny dark-grey metal coat.
"Much better, thank you"

Gnarl stared at the VNS for a very long time. As such may be measured in a timeless place. Once that period of time was over, and quite thankfully for all involved as Gnarl had a very piercing stare, the old tree turned a laborious turn and began striding away, limbs creaking with the effort of as close to seven-league steps as a creature might reasonably obtain.

Again, metaphors were not Gnarl's strong suit, in fact not the strong suit of most everyone who happened to be a member of his race. But if they had been, Gnarl would have said something about nothing taking any truck with shape-stealers and their tricky ways. The ways in which such sights made him uncomfortable, of course, would have gone unsaid either way.

As was, he simply barked out that he was "Going home."

Unfortunately, none of the squid-things are close enough to get a really detailed look at the moment.

so what should we do now that we understand each other and have a dimension as empty as between?

Kyath projected, unsure what came next, particularly with the tree-giant's announcement that it would go home.