scraph

look at yourself

Arright, slow down a minute there. How and why you're here might be important, but in all probability it's not something you'll be able to do anything about right now.

First things first, take stock. What do you know, what do you have, and where do you seem to be?

>think, you had a mission. it was important. things didn't go according to plan. try to remember.

Look at yourself. It has a chance at answering #1,2 AND 3.

bemoan the lack of pyramids

this place looks like it could do with a bit of a tidy up?

You're probably just dehydrated. Find some water

Look at yourself. It has a chance at answering #1,2 AND 3.

You take a crack at sitting up, but it doesn't go entirely to plan. Every part of you is united by a dull, prickly ache, as if nails are being dragged over every inch of your distressingly naked skin. Hence you end up bending awkwardly along the path of least resistance, with your arms askew and most of your torso still flat against... whatever it is you're lying on. It looks purple? Was that what you were thinking of? Seriously, what were you thinking of? You're so confused.

>think, you had a mission. it was important. things didn't go according to plan. try to remember.

You woke up on edge, knowing full well that something was wrong. That is incredibly suspicious, because you don't know what was happening before you woke up. Well, you were asleep, presumably, but... urgh, shit, maybe thirty seconds ago you were wondering what happened last night, except that feels amiss somehow. It's probably this miserable pain. It's the sort of hurt that feels eternal, that flatly refuses to be soothed by time.

...it could just be a hangover.

You're probably just dehydrated. Find some water

Your mouth is really dry. And there's this faint taste of salt along its roof that's playing real nice with the feeling of grit on your tongue. Damn, what did you do? Swallow sand or something?

...

Wait shit you totally did that.

You'd love to be able to think "it's all coming back to you now". That sure would be convenient. But no - you don't remember exactly what was going on, and yet... you have a memory of a desert, but it's tarnished and hazy. It feels more like you were staring at a photo, and now you've looked away and are trying to picture the details in your mind's eye. You must have been in the desert, right? You ate sand. You definitely did that. Obviously.

...uhh...

...you know when you're shown a photograph of a moment from your childhood that you've long forgotten? And suddenly your brain barges in and constructs so carefully a completely false set of memories, a narrative to expand upon a snapshot, and then you're left wondering if you didn't perhaps recall it after all? That maybe the manufacture of the simulacrum unearthed an actual recollection about which to build its story? Yeah, the desert's like this, but with fewer big words and the horrible realisation that you've a distinct lack of childhood memories.

WHAT THE FUCK

okay what's the earliest thing you can remember and WHY DOES THINKING THAT MAKE YOUR EYES WANT TO EVACUATE

NOT _EVEN THE ^EARLIEST MEMORY JUST THE NOTION THAT ^YOU MIGHT _WANT TO RETRIEVE IT THIS IS NOT OKAY

calm down

Arright, slow down a minute there. How and why you're here might be important, but in all probability it's not something you'll be able to do anything about right now.

First things first, take stock. What do you know, what do you have, and where do you seem to be?

...

...how's about you just, um, don't think about anything for a minute. Deep, slow, easy breaths. Gently does it. The only plausible source of answers to your questions is your mind, right, and it's not exactly acting like a font of knowledge at present. So let's change tack - bending up just then evoked some pretty harsh complaints from your stomach, but fuck it, in the interests of distracting yourself from... you're gonna focus your efforts on actually sitting up properly. And honestly, the pain is kinda subsiding a touch now. Not so eternal after all, huh?

...

Srictly speaking doubling over in agony counts as sitting upright. And hey, all you have to do from here is swing your legs off the edge of this... oh, it's, um, a camp bed. Huh.

So you're sat on a camp bed, stark naked, with your eyes twitching incessantly and your vision totally fucked. Your chin is damn tender, but you rest it on your hands anyway. Ever since you thought about water you've been desperate for a drink and though it's a welcome distraction from your nasty memory failures (which you just thought of without inducing any suffering whatsoever, but you better not push your luck) it's still making you quite uncomfortable, to put it mildly. Where do you go from here?

bemoan the lack of pyramids

this place looks like it could do with a bit of a tidy up?

You reckon you might manage to remember things better once you've been... awake... for a bit longer; maybe once you've got yourself, uh, sorted out? Is that how amnesia works? Because let's be frank, you're evidently beset by actual memory loss; this isn't just extreme confusion. You think so, anyway. You're not sure how amnesia works. Or, shit, what if you actually know all about amnesia and have simply forgotten? Wouldn't that be hilarious? So for now, let's concentrate on your surroundings. You're in, um, a storeroom, you guess, that's been trashed at some point, for some reason. Without standing up, you can reach what you guess is a cabinet on your left, and there's all that shelving along the wall to your right... or, alternatively, you could be brave and try getting to your feet. You're going to have to eventually. And there are all these fallen shelves, and that table over there... heck - that's just off the top of your head, there's probably more you could investigate that's not immediately springing to mind...

...there are doors too...

...you're kind of ignoring them...

go through any door!

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Northp.

>think logically: you had to get here somehow, and it doesn't make any sense to be put in a room without your clothes. therefore the best course of action is to search the room, if nothing comes up you're going down the rabbit hole of weird sooner rather than later.

open that cabinet and grab the wonders that lie within

Does the bed have sheets? Lacking alternatives, some sort of covering would be a good idea, at least to keep warm even if there's nobody to be indecent at.

Wherever you go next, watch where you step. The floor's pretty cluttered, and you don't know what might've broken or scattered when those shelves fell. Don't need any extra pain, right?

> Get on the floor. Crawling is still being able to move.

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open that

door!

Get on the floor.

Everybody do the dinosaur!

whatever you do, don't fall over

open that

door!

Get on the floor.

Everybody do the dinosaur!

This is how we win Scraph, I'm sure of it. Well, either by doing this or this. But it has to be one of those two.

open that cabinet and grab the wonders that lie within

You figure it wisest to start small and work your way up, so you scoot gingerly along the bed to get a good angle on the cabinet.

Oh, huh. There's yet another door over there. When it comes to potential exits, you're almost spoilt for choice. Still, babysteps. You open the cabinet and sure enough, there's some stuff in it. Right at the back of it. Two smallish boxes that you're at a really bad angle to get at. This should not be an issue. You should be able to bend down and pull that shit out.

...

Dammit.

> Get on the floor. Crawling is still being able to move.

Content Removed By user

Yeah screw it you can't get anything done like this. You'll simply push yourself off the bed and onto your knees...

...

The floor is okay. It's cold and hard and you disturbed a little dust when you flopped onto it but otherwise it's all right. Even your knees don't mind it. Much. You pause for a few very necessary breaths, then swivel round to the cabinet again. Turns out the cabinet is in fact a veritable treasure trove; from the bed, your view of the back left corner was blocked by the lefthand door, but from here on the ground you can see the pack of paper plates tucked away there. Wow. Oh, and there's a stapler too. Huh. And you've still got those boxes to investigate, so who knows what you might find...

It's pencils. Two boxes full of perfectly generic pencils. Not even mechanical ones, just plain old graphite sandwiches. And behind them is a box filled with perfectly generic bottles of what you think might be correction fluid. The label's a touch hard to read for obvious reasons. The inconsistency here bothers you.

Obviously, you would very much like to take all of this highly important stuff with you everywhere you go from now on. That's definitely a matter on which you've instantaneously developed an unfeasibly strong opinion, and sorting it out will be your number one priority.

...

You shut the cabinet doors.

Does the bed have sheets? Lacking alternatives, some sort of covering would be a good idea, at least to keep warm even if there's nobody to be indecent at.

Wherever you go next, watch where you step. The floor's pretty cluttered, and you don't know what might've broken or scattered when those shelves fell. Don't need any extra pain, right?

Your first impressions of the floor may have been a bit on the kind side. You thought it "cold" - now that you've spent a bit of time in close company with it, you'd like to revise that to fucking freezing.

It seems a bit odd, but there aren't any sheets on the bed. Heck, there's not even a pillow. That's pretty rough. Actually, you're not sure why you'd class that as "odd", given, you know, everything, but no matter. Oh, hang on - what's in the corner there, hiding beneath the bed?

...it's a rucksack, and a big one too. It's got lots of straps and compartments made of netting and a ridiculous number of pockets. You instantly regret the depth of your previous sarcasm and acknowledge this find as your due punishment. Not that you're gonna be wearing it, though. Not yet. You're still wriggling about the floor. You could put it on now, but then you'd look like a hitchhiking snail. You need to preserve what little dignity you have left. Also, since you're not exactly planning to hike up a fucking mountain any time soon, it seems entirely pointless.

...

You drag it out anyway.

>think logically: you had to get here somehow, and it doesn't make any sense to be put in a room without your clothes. therefore the best course of action is to search the room, if nothing comes up you're going down the rabbit hole of weird sooner rather than later.

But yeah, even though you're not sure what's going on, if you poke about for a bit you might begin to get an idea. Right now nothing about this situation makes any sense, but maybe you're just missing something. You wouldn't say you're in the best frame of mind, for instance; perhaps you're not remembering an important detail (your right arm twitches) or your mental processes are glossing over a key fact. Searching the room could well turn something up - who knows, you might even find a neat little letter explaining everyth- no shit hold up. Remember the magic sarcasm? You definitely don't want to come across an explicatory note. You'd absolutely despise full clarification of your situation, your surroundings, and your memorpain actually you know what you'd be incredibly distraught if your pervading pain were to magically vanish right this instant that sure would suck big time.

...

Well, you can't spell "optimistic" without "oh piss". Assuming, of course, that you're really bad at spelling...

open that

door!

Get on the floor.

Everybody do the dinosaur!

You've just resolved to search this room (reasonably) thoroughly. You may have misjudged yourself slightly; currently, your viewpoint leaves a lot to be desired and your mobility is greatly limited by the barricade of fallen shelving that cuts the space in two. There's an obvious way of dealing with both of these obstacles simultaneously. It begins with you leaning on the bed, then leaning against the cabinet, then fumbling desperately for both or either, then swearing very loudly, then flailing wildly and strutting backwards like a chicken that dressed up as a T-Rex for Halloween. Oh great, you remember that Halloween exists. That's nice. What's not nice is the fact that the table you grasped for is on casters.

...what was that about your dignity again?

whatever you do, don't fall over

How the fuck are you still upright? Your legs are burning so much you're scared they'll char.

go through any door!

That's it. This is insufferable. You're getting out of here. This room is shit and dark and cold and full of traps and stationery cupboard rejects. Maybe somewhere nearby there is another human being who could help you not feel like total shit. Your options for exits are the totally not suspicious no-longer-a-double-door, the door in the corner that requires you to somehow navigate around furniture and the new entrant with the push handles which would require you to walk over one of the shelf racks. Urgh. Okay, fuck it, pick the middle option. You can probably manage to slowly steer yourself around, "slowly" being very much the operative word...

...is that... are you seeing... it's a keyhole, isn't it?

OF COURSE IT IS OF COURSE IT'S LOCKED HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY HAVE EXPECTED OTHERWISE?

Northp.

...perhaps you were being a touch rash. At least you've established that you are capable of lurching about the place now. Oh, and you're still cold and thirsty and really, really confused...

Check yourself over and make sure none of your organs have been harvested

Get mayonnaise.