A new challenger approaches (Round Robin)

[Euryalus]

So I have a challenge only the insanity of the escapist might be able to meet.

This photo needs to be made a reality a la forum posts. They can be long or short, shitty or great, so long as you write a story that somehow fits this insanity.

If you need help I'll start you off

Once upon a time in a city called Cleveland...

TL;DR Write Bioware game the book with us

 

[MtnGamer]

a young man disembarks from his plane, tired after a long transatlantic flight. He is from Reading, visiting the United States to meet a business partner and former college friend.

 

[Euryalus]

He was Disheveled, groggy, and more than a little annoyed that the women next to him on the flight wouldn't stop talking to him for nearly the entire length of the trip. Despite what he thought were pretty forceful cues that he was trying to read (and later sleep), she kept chattering. She had been nice enough, but... the man shook his head, bemoaning the obliviousness of some people. "Well at least that nonsense is behind me" He thought to himself, "Now I just have to get through the gauntlet that is airport security... Shit man why Cleveland? An 8 hour flight to the States and not even New York?"

...

 

[Barbas]

Oh hey, T0ad. Nice to see you're not dead. Return our calls, you f**kity f**k!

OT: He had boarded the plane what seemed like a week ago, gently massaging his rump where the TSA officials had been somewhat overzealous. When the stewardess leaned over to ask whether there was anything she could get him, her perfume caused him to go into panic. He lashed out and slapped the glasses off the mother of two in the seat next to him, and was promptly tazed by four sky marshals.

All in all, he'd had worse flights. After splashing some water into his sleepy eyes in the restrooms, he headed to the nearest airport bar.

 

[Twintix]

Slumping down on a bar stool with a soft *poof*, he mumbled "Gin and tonic, please" to the bartender. When he recieved his drink, he noticed the curious, but polite, little smile on the bartender's lips.
"Not from 'round here, are you?" She asked, her voice heavy with a hard-to-place accent. "You don't fly very often, I take it?"
"What tipped you off?" Snarked the man. An unneccessary response to be sure, but he had little patience with people pointing out the obvious.

 

[Euryalus]

"It's good business sense not to be rude to the person who serves things you put in your mouth, honey." The bartender said with a smile and good nature only years of working in the service industry can provide.

The wisdom of the comment snapped the man out of his malaise for a moment. She was right, troubles or no, hell hath no fury like a waitress scorned, "Besides," he thought, "my problems with the TSA are behind me..."

He winced at his choice of words, and rubbed his bottom at the memory. Overzealous and "new agent" are better friends than they should be.

"I'm sorry for the snarkiness miss." The sore-bottomed man quickly apologised to the bartender, paid, and went to call a cab. Getting-over-jet-lag-by-staying-up be damned he thought. A good night's sleep in his hotel room would cheer him up right quick.

 

[God'sFist]

"where ya headed?" the Cabbie asked in a slightly gruff tone not turning to see who entered.

"Twin Trees, and make it fast I would like to get some rest after my flight." He said in a tired voice almost falling asleep.
"what's yer name stranger?" The Cabbie asked politeley

"My names Kent, Clark Kent, like from the movies." He said with a sigh. Why would a cab driver want to know his name anyway? Best shake it off and just sit back and enjoy the ride.

 

[Euryalus]

"Really? That's hilarious." The Cab driver belted out. "I knew a guy who named his kid William Smith, you can probably guess why. He thought stuff like that was a riot."

"Nothing like that on my part, just oblivious parents for me." Clark answered with disinterest.

He chatted a bit more and answered a few question the Cab driver had, but made it clear he wasn't much in the way for talking. Unlike the woman on his flight over, he got the message.

Rain splatter covered the windows as Clark's cab cruised along towards it's destination. He was used to grey, back home it rained all the time, and while he had hoped to catch some luck and meet with some better weather on this trip, fortune had other plans. He sighed a barely audible sigh, although it's not what he'd have preferred, he had to admit there was a sort of peace in rain. People make those asinine comments in movies about how the world itself is crying whenever it rains during the climax, but for Clark, it was more like the world was relieving itself. There was catharsis there, and he almost felt like he could catch a bit of it during storms.

 

[God'sFist]

"After the long ride in a cab it will be nice to finally rest in my hotel room." Clark thought to himself taking his bags and walking through the hotel doors. The hotel wasn't the best he had ever seen, teller behind the desk, dining area to the left and a sign marked "POOL" on the right. "Yeah this will do fine." he casually walked up to the teller and asked for his room key. After the initial giggling from the teller about his name he received his room key and proceeded to his room 145D.

 

[Euryalus]

...and when got there he passed right out on his bed.

The next morning he was woken up by the sound of a car door closing outside his window. He looked to the alarm on his right and saw that it was only 5 am. Whether this person was checking out early, or getting in from some strange flight, he couldn't tell.

Now Normally Clark was a real lazy bones, and would sleep in as much as he could, but jet lag had taken its toll on him. He struggled for 10 more minutes before finally surrendering to awake-ness. He was still tired beyond all belief, but now lived in the zone of travel time, a place bordering the land of insomnia, and where "tired" and "rest" have no rational relationship.

Clark sat upright on his bed. He didn't need to meet up with his friend until around 6 pm that night, so he had the whole day to himself, more day than he actually planned on having considering.

He let himself think back to the day before and it struck him how eventful it was. He had an annoying air travel companion, a rough encounter with the American TSA, and even a snarky conversation with a bartender. He chuckled for a moment.

"I wonder if this trip is just me being a character in some sort of poorly written novel. It has all the parts for it to be a crap beginning."

 

[Barbas]

"I wonder who'd even be writing it", he thought as he took the stairs down to the buffet hall two at a time, missing the 'Wet Floor' sign entirely. He slipped on the penultimate flight and tumbled onto the carpeted landing, banging his shoulder on the teak handrail with a resounding thump. The eggs made up for the pain, though: poached, scrambled, boiled, fried or whipped into an omelette; the chef couldn't do enough. He leant back in his soft chair and sipped contentedly on a glass of cool orange juice as he mopped up the remainder of his eggs with a hunk of muffin.

Clark considered the events of yesterday as he paid little attention to the news headlines crawling across the flat-screen television over the bar. He'd never really been a deeply superstitious man, but very rarely had he suffered such a prolonged period of misfortune. More to occupy his mind than anything else, he wondered what would be happening to him next.

 

[Euryalus]

"I wonder if me being self aware triggers my next misadventure." Clark pondered with all the depth of a youtube intellectual.

As he went to grab his orange juice for another sip, he spilled it all over his pants, no doubt distracted by the profundity of his realization that he was a mere pawn in a greater game...

 

[Barbas]

And then he started thinking how much the word "pawn" sounds like "porn". Then he got a erection. :/

 

[Twintix]

His breakfast awkwardly continued in silence, with no more mishaps aside from his teacake catching fire in the toaster oven. He left it there and pretended like it wasn't his, since he refused to stand up because his raging stiffie refused to submit.
Dismayed, Clark hid his face in his hands and sighed deeply. If this was any indication of how the rest of this godforsaken trip was going to go...

 

[Euryalus]

Awkwardly, and with the self consciousness of a man with stage fright, Clark used the distraction of the burnt cake to make his exit. "Even in hell there is hope" he thought, "But probably in some kind of cruel Tantalus way" he quickly and cynically added remembering his favorite Greek myth.

He went back to his room, changed his pants, and thanked Zeus in heaven above that no one had stumbled upon him in his fading boner, orange-juice-covered march of despair up the hotel stairs.

...It was raining again as the older taxi sputtered along towards Clark's destination. Fog licked the windows as he sat in thought.

"I can't believe this. I genuinely can't believe how crazy this trip has been." His earlier, and joking ideas about his life being some sort of novel began to evolve and slowly take on a more serious consideration. What was once a passing joke, began to tickle away at his brain until it became a humorous hobby, something to think about when bored.

"More importantly, if this was a book, what kind of goon would be reading it?"

 

[Barbas]

(...)raging stiffie(...)

Hahahahaha! Ahhh, that's comedy.

OT: "I bet it'd be read by teenagers. I hate them, almost as much as I hate myself. Oh well, at least I don't listen to Kanye West." Clark ended his reflection, brushed the remaining crumbs off his shirt and took the lift back up to his floor. On the wall of the lift was a poster advertising the latest aggressive self-help book by Shia LaBeouf. The incandescent look on the author's face reminded him that he had to be out of the hotel by noon.

 

[Euryalus]

"Wait a minute? A hotel elevator? I thought Clark was in a taxi on the way to meet up with his friend?" exclaimed a loud disembodied voice that shook him out of his admiration of the poster's graphic design.

"What the? Who..." stuttered Clark...

 

[Barbas]

"Hello? Can you hear me?"

Everything went black.

Clark felt like he was on his back, a great weight pressing him down into a hard, flat surface. He could hear, but he couldn't move his head to see anything but blackness. Or maybe that was just the inside of his eyelids, it was so dark. "Ah", said a voice. "A minor misunderstanding, I fear. Two threads running parallel is never a good time for anyone. We'll have you back on track in no time flat. Try to relax your muscles and think of something pleasant. Sorry in advance."

It suddenly felt as if a hook had been attached to Clark's stomach and yanked forward. A second later he awoke in the back of the taxi with a gasp. The driver eyed him oddly for a moment in the rear-view mirror. He felt ill, as if his last meal had been torn from his stomach and hurriedly returned again.