City Exploration

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:2)+(align:"==><==")+(text-style: "smear")+(text-color: "#B59410")+(align:"==><==")+(box: "X")+(t8n: "flicker")+(t8n-time:5s)[Welcome to the City. You are...] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(text-colour: "#848884")[[[a young woman|Trout]] [[a young man|Mark]] [[gender? What's gender?|Zeal]]]

(set: $path to "A")(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(text-color:"#D3D3D3")[Your name is Trout. You are five years old, but you already know more about this City than most of the people who live here. It makes you cocky, but that's what keeps you alive. You have dark hair, though it's not much more than a shadow on your head right now. Your small group of comrades recently had a run-in with pests, and the itching finally got so bad that you gave in and chopped it close with a knife. You had to trade a week of food scraps to get it. Your eyes are big and dark, and you are thin but wiry, your muscles moving strongly just under your skin. Your smallness is an advantage—you can sneak in and out of tight spaces and flit out of sight quickly if necessary. You are sleeping in the tight space between two buildings, and suddenly, you [[wake up.]]]

(set: $path to "B")(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)[Your name is Mark. You aren't sure how old you are, but you think you're about ten years old. You aren't a leader exactly, but you act confident enough that the other kids follow you anyway. Inside, you are always afraid, but you don't let it show. Instead, you act like everyone else is fearful, and you alone are brave enough to face whatever this City has to offer. You have dark hair and eyes, and your skin has an unhealthy pallor. No one gets enough food or sunlight down here. In fact, you've never seen the sun. It doesn't matter though. You don't know what you're missing anyway. You are sleeping in a corner of an alleyway behind a tall pile of garbage, when suddenly, you [[wake up.]]]

(set:$path to "C")(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)[Your name is Zeal. You aren't sure how old you are, but you know you're older than most of the kids. Your gut tells you that you are about thirteen years old, maybe approaching fourteen. Your hair is short, but not buzzed, and it has the colorless quality of dust. You are thin and clearly malnourished, and the lack of nutrition keeps your body looking genderless, which you prefer. You don't want your age to be clear. If they realize you're older, they'll make you start working with the adults, and you don't think you could stand that. Life here isn't spectacular, but there's a freedom that comes with being a child and you won't give that up. Last week you saw a building wall partial collapse with people working inside. Out here, you can at least see the sky, for what that's worth. You are sleeping in the stoop of a building, and suddenly you [[wake up.]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A")+(t8n: "blur")+(t8n-time:2s) [You wake with a start. You aren't sure what woke you, but you are breathing hard. Maybe you had a nightmare. You roll your eyes. Nightmares are for babies, and you are anything but. The other children here can't know that you still have nightmares. You're already a leader, even at five, and if anyone finds out, they won't respect you anymore. You sit up and rub your face, noticing the cold sweat on your forehead. Your back feels knotted up. You're too young for back pain, but sleeping on concrete every night will age anyone early. It's not that you expect to live to a ripe old age, anyway. The ground is wet, too, and you realize that it rained overnight. It's a good thing you slept somewhere covered, because you didn't even hear the Middle City sirens that normally wake you so you can put on your covering. You pull on your backpack and stand, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You walk down the street [[to the left|Left]], [[to the right|Right]], or [[toward the wall in front of you.|Wall]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B")+(t8n: "blur")+(t8n-time:2s) [You wake with a start. You aren't sure what woke you, but you are breathing hard. Maybe you had a nightmare. They have plagued you since you were very small, but you don't let on. It's dangerous to show weakness here, so you compensate by being harder. You know you come across as obnoxious sometimes, but you don't think about it too hard. You have your little group of followers, and that's enough. You sit up and rub your face, noticing the cold sweat on your forehead. Your back feels knotted up. You're too young for back pain, but sleeping on concrete every night will age anyone early. It's not that you expect to live to a ripe old age, anyway. The ground is wet, too, and you realize that it rained overnight. It's a good thing you slept somewhere covered, because you didn't even hear the Middle City sirens that normally wake you so you can put on your covering. You pull on your backpack and stand, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You walk down the street [[to the left|Left]], [[to the right|Right]], or [[toward the wall in front of you.|Wall]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C")+(t8n: "blur")+(t8n-time:2s) [You wake with a start. You aren't sure what woke you, but you are breathing hard. Maybe you had a nightmare. You haven't had nightmares for a long time, but recently, they're creeping back in. It makes your heart pound, but you push the thought to the side. Nightmares don't mean anything. They're just images. They can't hurt you. You sit up and rub your face, noticing the cold sweat on your forehead. Your back feels knotted up. Thirteen is old for children here. If you lived this long, you have a good chance of becoming an adult. The thought makes you shudder. Maybe that's what's causing your nightmares. The ground is wet, too, and you realize that it rained overnight. It's a good thing you slept somewhere covered, because you didn't even hear the Middle City sirens that normally wake you so you can put on your covering. You pull on your backpack and stand, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You walk down the street [[to the left|Left]], [[to the right|Right]], or [[toward the wall in front of you.|Wall]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [You turn and walk down the street to your left. There are people moving around. Everyone looks drowsy, and you see a lot of disheveled hair. You smirk. These people are so //old.// They can't pop up easily like you do. You wish you could explore instead of Gather, but everyone here has their role, and the Elders wouldn't be pleased if you shirked yours. It's annoying, but you look around anyway, trying to decide where to Gather today. There are always the usual [[garbage piles, |Garbage]] but they are so //boring.// You haven't seen anyone climb up to the [[Barriers]] recently. They're slightly less boring, but climbing that high and being that cautious takes so much effort, and you're not good at being cautious. Someone speaks, and you tilt your head, listening carefully without letting on that you're eavesdropping. "With all that rain, I wonder if anything good washed down to the old [[Waterworks]]." "That's stupid. You know nothing of any worth washes down there." "Hey, you never know if you don't go look." You rotate slowly, turning to look at the pipe that gapes darkly in the distance. That sounds more interesting, but you don't have a lamp. Maybe you should [[go back the other way|Right]] and check out the City Centre instead.] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [You turn and walk down the street to your left. There are people moving around. Everyone looks drowsy, and you see a lot of disheveled hair. You're still young enough that you feel fine with almost no sleep, but you still wonder if you're the only one who didn't wake up last night when the sirens went off. Or did the sirens go off at all? You mull it over for a moment, but can't bring yourself to care that much. You sigh. No one here wants to start their day, but everyone has a role, and the Elders wouldn't be pleased if you shirked yours. You crack your neck and look around, trying to decide which [[garbage pile|Garbage]] is the most promising. You aren't too hopeful. You haven't seen anyone climb up to the [[Barriers]] recently. But then someone speaks and you stop, bending to pretend to fix your sandal. "With all that rain, I wonder if anything good washed down to the old [[Waterworks]]." "That's stupid. You know nothing of any worth washes down there." "Hey, you never know if you don't go look." You pause and tilt your head, considering. The pipe gapes darkly in the distance. That sounds more interesting, but you don't have a lamp. Maybe you should [[go back the other way|Right]] and check out the City Centre instead.] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [You turn and walk down the street to your left. There are people moving around. Everyone looks drowsy, and you see a lot of disheveled hair. Are you the only one who didn't wake up last night when the sirens went off? You used to function just fine with no sleep, but now, it's hard to wake up in the night. But the sirens usually wake you...unless they didn't go off at all. It's a thought that hits you with a jolt, and you tuck it carefully into your back pocket to think about later. No one here wants to start their day, but everyone here has a role, and the Elders wouldn't be pleased if you shirked yours. You crack your neck, trying to release some of the tension that rests there, and try to decide where to Gather today. There are always the usual [[garbage piles,|Garbage]] but they don't usually turn up anything of worth. You haven't seen anyone climb up to the [[Barriers]] recently, but you don't know if you have the energy for climbing today. Then someone speaks and you hesitate, straightening your tunic and pretending that you aren't listening in. "With all that rain, I wonder if anything good washed down to the old [[Waterworks]]." "That's stupid. You know nothing of any worth ever washes down there." "Hey, you never know if you don't go look." You pause and tilt your head, considering. The pipe gapes darkly in the distance. That sounds more interesting, but you don't have a lamp. Maybe you should [[go back the other way|Right]] and check out the City Centre instead.]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [You turn and walk down the street to your right. You start to hear voices as you approach the City Centre. It's already bustling, even this early in the morning, but you have to be alert and ready for anything here. Anyone who has the intention to buy, trade, or haggle has to be on their toes. Most of the shopkeepers here will screw you over without a second thought. They are especially ruthless on children, so you draw yourself up to your full height as you enter, tugging the straps of your pack tighter and putting a scowl across your face. All of the larger streets end up here if you follow them long enough. You keep your expression carefully neutral as you look around. Most of the patrons look annoyed, which isn't a good sign. You've heard the other younger children complaining that they aren't finding anything in the garbage piles, but only you are smart enough to know what that means. It means that the shopkeepers will start blaming the children soon. It wouldn't hurt to check out some of the stalls, especially since you don't have a lamp, but you don't have anything to barter with anyway. It was stupid to come here. You start to turn, but one of the [[stalls|Stalls]] catches your eye. You (text-style: "sway")[waver] on the spot, considering. You could go [[sift through the garbage|Garbage]] and see if you can find anything worth trading, and the [[Barriers]] are still an option, too. But maybe you should just [[make another decision.|wake up.]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [You turn and walk down the street to your right. You start to hear voices as you approach the City Centre. It's already bustling, even this early in the morning, but you have to be alert and ready for anything here. Anyone who has the intention to buy, trade, or haggle has to be on their toes. Most of the shopkeepers here will screw you over without a second thought. They are especially ruthless on children, but as you look around, you see a few of the younger children here. Hopefully the shopkeepers will focus on them instead. You know you have a mean streak, but it's every person for themselves here. All of the larger streets end up here if you follow them long enough. You keep your expression carefully neutral as you look around. You note where the little kids are. You might visit the same stalls. Next to them, you look way more mature. But you notice that most of the patrons look annoyed, which isn't a good sign. You've heard other Gatherers complaining that they aren't finding anything in the garbage piles, and you're smart enough to know what that means. It means that the shopkeepers will start blaming the children soon. It wouldn't hurt to look for a lamp at one of the stalls, but you don't have anything to barter with anyway. You consider trying to convince one of the shopkeepers that you'll bring them something good after your day of Gathering is over, but risking that promise would be stupid. If you swindled one of these shopkeepers, they would hunt you down and take the lamp back, plus a few more things that don't belong to them. You start to turn away, but one of the [[stalls|Stalls]] catches your eye. You (text-style: "sway")[waver] on the spot, considering. You could go [[sift through the garbage|Garbage]] to see if you can find anything worth trading, and the [[Barriers]] are still an option, too. But maybe you should just [[make another decision.|wake up.]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [You turn and walk down the street to your right. You start to hear voices as you approach the City Centre. It's already bustling, even this early in the morning, but you have to be alert and ready for anything here. Anyone who has the intention to buy, trade, or haggle has to be on their toes. You have enough experience under your belt now to know that the shopkeepers will screw you over without a second thought. They are especially ruthless on children, which makes you thankful for your older appearance just this once. You smirk when you see a few of the younger children here. Good. They'll the the focus instead of you. All of the larger streets end up here if you follow them long enough. You keep your expression carefully neutral as you look around. You notice that most of the patrons look annoyed, which isn't a good sign. You've heard other Gatherers complaining that they aren't finding anything in the garbage piles, and you're smart enough to know what that means. It means that the shopkeepers will start blaming the children soon. It's strange, being caught in the middle like this. You aren't really a child or an adult, and you don't know which one you want to be, either. It wouldn't hurt to look for a lamp at one of the stalls, but you don't have anything to barter with anyway. You consider trying to convince one of the shopkeepers that you'll bring them something good after your day of Gathering is over, but risking that promise would be stupid. If you swindled one of these shopkeepers, they would hunt you down and take the lamp back, plus a few more things that don't belong to them. You start to turn away, but one of the [[stalls|Stalls]] catches your eye. You (text-style: "sway")[waver] on the spot, considering. You could go [[sift through the garbage|Garbage]] to see if you can find anything worth trading, and the [[Barriers]] are still an option, too. But maybe you should just [[make another decision.|wake up.]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [You approach the wall, craning your neck to look up. It climbs so high that it (text-style:"fadeinout")[disappears] into the clouds of smog long before you can see the top. If you're honest, you don't know how tall it really is, but you would never admit that to anyone else. You're good at pretending that you know everything, especially with the other little kids. The wall has been here for as long as you can remember. You've heard it rumored that the wall reaches all the way to the bottom border of the Middle City. You don't know if you really believe this, but it sounds impressive, so you like to repeat it sometimes and act like you've always known. People repeat what the Elders say, and then you repeat that. You've never seen the Elders in person, but apparently they used to make appearances before the people and talk about things like the wall. They don't do that anymore. Long before you were here, the City wasn't safe. It isn't safe now, but at least you aren't in danger of being eaten by the monsters that are rumored to lurk Outside. You reach down instinctively and touch the sharpened piece of glass you wear strapped to your leg instead of a real knife, checking to make sure it's still there. Deep in thought, you stretch out a hand and... [[touch the moss that grows on the wall.|Moss]] change your mind and turn [[to the left.|Left]] [[to the right.|Right]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [You approach the wall, craning your neck to look up. It climbs so high that it disappears into the clouds of smog long before you can see the top. There have been a few strange days when the smog has floated upwards, drawing away from the Lower City just enough that if you climb up to the Barriers, you can just see the top of the wall. It doesn't happen often. Most days the smog reaches down past the lower border of the Middle City, and there are even times when it gets so thick here on the ground that you choke. But you like to brag sometimes that you've seen the top of the wall. It makes the little kids' eyes get big. The wall has been here for as long as you can remember, and you know that your time here has been short. You've only seen the City's Elders once, back when they used to make appearances before the people and talk about things like the wall. They don't do that anymore, but people still repeat what the Elders used to say. "It isn't safe out there. There are monsters, horrible monsters. That is why we Elders built the wall. To keep you here. To keep you safe." The thought of monsters makes you shudder, and you're glad for the makeshift knife you carry tucked into the waistband of your trousers. It pokes you in the lower back sometimes, but you don't mind. You're thankful for the reminder that you're safe. Deep in thought, you stretch out a hand and... [[touch the moss that grows on the wall.|Moss]] change your mind and turn [[to the left.|Left]] [[to the right.|Right]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [You approach the wall, craning your neck to look up. It climbs so high that it disappears into the clouds of smog long before you can see the top. There have been a few strange days when the smog has floated upwards, drawing away from the Lower City just enough that if you climb up to the Barriers, you can just see the top of the wall. It doesn't happen often. Most days the smog reaches down past the lower border of the Middle City, and there are even times when it gets so thick here on the ground that you choke. But the days when you can see the top make you feel like you could fly. Some of the older children like to brag that they've seen the top of the wall, just to watch the little kids' eyes get big. You used to care about things like that, but not anymore. Now you just want to imagine you can feel a breeze. The wall has been here for as long as you can remember, and you know that your time here has been short. You've only seen the City's Elders once, back when they used to make appearances before the people and talk about things like the wall. They don't do that anymore, but people still repeat what the Elders used to say. "It isn't safe out there. There are monsters, horrible monsters. That is why we Elders built the wall. To keep you here. To keep you safe." Being safe feels a lot like being trapped. Deep in thought, you stretch out a hand and... [[touch the moss that grows on the wall.|Moss]] change your mind and turn [[to the left.|Left]] [[to the right.|Right]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [You hate sifting through the garbage. It's such dull work, and you never find anything interesting. The best you can hope for are some scraps of metal or maybe some chipped concrete that a shopkeeper may want to sharpen into a tool to sell. But if you want to eat, you have to find something. These garbage piles will at least turn up a few findings that you can trade in at one of the stalls in the City Centre for some hard bread or a small handful of mushy grain. It's easy to believe that you will find something life changing down here, but that hope dies quickly. In fact, you aren't sure you ever actually believed that. Gathering is all you've ever known, but still, you don't remember a time when you really thought something good would turn up. Sometimes the other kids don't like Gathering with you, because you shoot them down so quickly. You've just stuck your arms elbow-deep in the closest pile of garbage, smells wafting up around you so strong you can almost see the fumes, when you hear running footsteps approaching. You whip around, snatching the knife from your leg so quickly that Asa, a lanky, thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes, almost runs right into it. "Watch it!" she snaps, anger flashing in her eyes for just a moment before it's replaced by desperation. You slowly lower the knife to your side, but you don't let your guard down. Asa isn't a threat, but you don't like people running up on you like that. She really is lucky you didn't stab first and ask questions later. "I need your help," she says, and there's a waver in her voice that wasn't there in her anger a moment ago. "Elijah fell, and I think he's hurt pretty badly. He won't let me see, and I can't move him by myself. I need more hands." She looks you up and down. "I know he'll be too heavy for you, but—" "You think I can't help just because I'm small," you snarl at her. She actually takes a step backward. The sight is satisfying. When she doesn't speak again, you sigh. You look back at the garbage pile, which you know in your gut isn't going to have anything good in it, and then back up at her and say... [["Yeah, sure, I guess I'll help. But you'll owe me."|Help1]] [["No, I haven't even started Gathering yet. I'm not going hungry tonight for Elijah."|Right Person]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [You hate sifting through the garbage, but it's not like you have much other choice. The Barriers and the Waterworks are too much of a risk if you want to eat today. You have to keep up a consistent flow of scavenged items, and you can count on the garbage piles to turn up at least a few mediocre findings, like old, rusted wire, bread scraps that are as hard as rocks, and if you're really lucky, maybe some mildewed fabric. Trading those in at one of the stalls in the City Centre will at least earn you some slightly better quality hard bread, maybe with less mold, or a small handful of mushy grain. Everyone down here starts out believing that they will find something life changing. Everyone wants to find something that will save the City, or at least earn them a real meal and some respect from the adults, but that hope dies quickly. It only takes a day or two of Gathering and getting sneered at by the shopkeepers to become jaded. You crouch next to the nearest pile of garbage with a sigh, but before you can start sifting through, you hear running footsteps approaching. You jump and almost fall onto your backside, but recover in time to see Asa, a lanky, thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes race around the corner. Right now, her unsettling gray eyes are large with fear. “I need your help!” she pants. You can hear the fear in her voice, too, and it makes your heart start pounding. Asa is rarely frightened. “Elijah fell, and I think he’s hurt pretty badly. He won’t let me see, and I can’t move him by myself. I need more hands.” She looks you up and down, clearly appraising your strength. “You can help me lift, right?” You almost snap at her that of course you can help lift Elijah. The kid is puny enough as it is. You could probably lift him alone. But you calm yourself and say… [[“Of course I’ll help you. Lead the way|Help1]] [[“I don’t know if I’m the right person to help. I’m not weak or anything, but I haven’t even started Gathering yet.”|Right Person]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [You despise sifting through the garbage, but you resigned yourself to this long ago. If you want to eat anything today, then the Barriers and the Waterworks are too much of a risk. You have to keep up a consistent flow of scavenged items, and you can count on the garbage piles to turn up at least a few mediocre findings, like old, rusted wire, bread scraps that are as hard as rocks, and if you’re really lucky, maybe some mildewed fabric. The younger children waste their time on things like broken pieces of concrete, hoping that the shopkeepers will want to sharpen them into tools or weapons, but you know better. You’ve been sneered at enough times. But trading in something that might actually be of use will at least earn you some slightly better quality hard bread, maybe with less mold to scrape off, or a small handful of mushy grain. Everyone down here starts out believing that they will find something life changing. Everyone wants to find something that will save the City, from what you don’t know. What’s the threat, anyway? Starvation? Finding something better in the garbage won’t solve that problem. Hope dies quickly down here. You wonder how the people in the Middle and Upper Cities feel. Do they feel hope, as they struggle to touch the smoggy sky? You crouch next to the nearest pile of garbage with a sigh. You’re getting too old for this, but you don’t want to join the ranks of the adults. There’s something in that thought that makes you want to give up even more. You don’t get the chance to pull even one thing from the pile when you hear running footsteps approaching. There’s something to be said for this kind of resignation—you don’t care as much about threats anymore, either. You stand slowly, turning toward the sound and brushing your hands off on your trousers, just in time to see Asa, a lanky, thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes race around the corner. Right now, those unsettling gray eyes are filled with panic. “I need your help!” she pants. You can hear the fear in her voice, too, and it makes your heart jump just a little. Asa is rarely frightened. Maybe you should be worried after all. “Elijah fell, and I think he’s hurt pretty badly. He won’t let me see, and I can’t move him by myself. I need more hands.” She looks you up and down, and you fight to keep a blush from spreading across your cheeks. She’s just appraising your strength, anyway. “Can you help me lift him?” You shrug one shoulder. The kid is puny enough that you could probably lift him with one arm. You mull it over for a moment, and then say… [[“Of course I’ll help you. Let’s go.”|Help1]] [[“I don’t think so. I haven’t even started Gathering yet, and I’d really like to eat today. Maybe someone else can help you.”|Right Person]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [Climbing up to the Barriers is more exhausting than you want to admit, especially for someone as small as you are. You would never tell anyone that, though. That’s a weakness that you refuse to let anyone else know. But the same energy it would take to Gather in the Barriers for a few hours would carry you through an entire day of Gathering here on the ground. It did rain last night, though, and that thought gives you pause. You move toward the nearest cluster of buildings and gaze upwards. There is a mess of cables, wires, and metal mesh above you. Those cables once carried power to the City, or at least, that’s what the other children tell you. You act like you don’t believe them, but deep down, you wish it was true. It’s so hard to believe. Lights that you can control? The ability to make the inside of the buildings as warm or cool as you want, without having to put on extra clothes or rub dust on your skin to keep the heat of the day off? It’s ridiculous. But sometimes when you get high enough in the Barriers, you can see faint lights from the Upper City. Maybe they truly did take the power with them, if it exists. Whether it’s true or not, the cables stayed behind, creating a thick web of rubber and metal that crisscrosses between the buildings, all but blocking out what little of the (text-style: "blurrier")+(text-color: "#C52C03")[glowing red sky] you can see. It doesn’t matter anyway. The sky is ugly, and you hate looking at it. You find a handhold and are just starting to pull yourself up off the ground when you hear running footsteps coming from somewhere down the alleyway. You jump down and snatch the knife from your leg so quickly that Asa, a lanky, thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes, almost runs into it as she rounds the corner. "Watch it!" she snaps, anger flashing in her eyes for just a moment before it's replaced by desperation. You slowly lower the knife to your side, but you don't let your guard down. Asa isn't a threat, but you don't like people running up on you like that. She really is lucky you didn't stab first and ask questions later. "I need your help," she says, and there's a waver in her voice that wasn't there in her anger a moment ago. "Elijah fell, and I think he's hurt pretty badly. He won't let me see, and I can't move him by myself. I need more hands." She looks you up and down. "I know he'll be too heavy for you, but—" "You think I can't help just because I'm small," you snarl at her. She actually takes a step backward. The sight is satisfying. When she doesn't speak again, you sigh. You look back upward into the Barriers. You can see old, wet garbage hanging off of some of the cables, and you watch a drip of something (text-style: "buoy")+(text-color: "#ca6b02")+(t8n: "slidedown")+(t8n-delay:10s)+(t8n-time:0.2s)[slimy and greenish brown] fall from it and splatter on the ground right next to your foot. Your nose wrinkles. Your gut tells you that you won’t find anything good up there. You look back up at Asa and say… [["Yeah, sure, I guess I'll help. But you'll owe me."|Help1]] [["No, I haven't even started Gathering yet. I'm not going hungry tonight for Elijah."|Right Person]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [Climbing up to the Barriers is more exhausting than you want to admit, especially for someone so young. You would never tell anyone that, though. That’s a weakness that you can’t let anyone else know. But the same energy it would take to Gather in the Barriers for a few hours would carry you through an entire day of Gathering here on the ground. But it did rain last night, and that thought gives you pause. You move toward the nearest cluster of buildings and gaze upwards. There is a mess of cables, wires, and metal mesh above you. You’ve heard the rumors that those cables once carried power to the City, and you can’t help but believe it, as much as you want to pretend you don’t. It’s incredible to imagine, and sometimes you lay awake at night just thinking about what it would be like to have lights you could control. For the streets to be lit with more than just the dull, red glow from the smog-filled sky. Or the ability to make the inside of the buildings as warm or cool as you want, without having to put on extra clothes or rub dust into your skin to keep off the heat of the day. But it must be true. If you climb high enough into the Barriers, you can see the lights that shine in the Upper City. They reflect off of the clouds, and you figured out long ago that this is what causes the red light here in the Lower City, no matter what time of day or night it is. When people climbed, stacking these buildings taller and taller, they took the power with them. And the cables stayed behind, creating this thick web of rubber and metal that crisscrosses between the buildings, all but blocking out what little of the (text-style: "blurrier")+(text-color: "#C52C03")[glowing red sky] you can see. It doesn’t matter anyway. Looking at the swirling clouds of smog makes you nervous. You find a good handhold and are just starting to pull yourself up off the ground when you hear running footsteps coming from somewhere down the alleyway. It startles you, and you almost fall back down to the ground, but recover in time to see Asa, a lanky, thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes race around the corner. Right now, her unsettling gray eyes are large with fear. “I need your help!” she pants. You can hear the fear in her voice, too, and it makes your heart pound faster. Asa is rarely frightened. “Elijah fell, and I think he’s hurt pretty badly. He won’t let me see, and I can’t move him by myself. I need more hands.” She looks you up and down, clearly appraising your strength. “You can help me lift, right?” You almost snap at her that of course you can help lift Elijah. The kid is puny enough as it is. You could probably lift him alone. But you calm yourself and say… [[“Of course I’ll help you. Lead the way|Help1]] [[“I don’t know if I’m the right person to help. I’m not weak or anything, but I haven’t even started Gathering yet.”|Right Person]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [Climbing up to the Barriers feels like more work than it’s worth right now. You stopped caring about showing “weakness” long ago. There’s nothing weak about being too tired. You’ve learned that in your time here. Of course, you’re tired. You sleep upright in the stoop of a building and sometimes skip multiple days of meals when Gathering doesn’t turn up anything of use. The same energy it would take to Gather in the Barriers for a few hours would carry you through an entire day of Gathering here on the ground. But it did rain last night, and that thought gives you pause. You move toward the nearest cluster of buildings and gaze upwards. There is a mess of cables, wires, and metal mesh above you. Those cables once carried power to the City. You’ve heard a lot of discussion among the younger children, debating whether or not this is true. You’ve debated it yourself over the years, and finally concluded that yes, it is fact. It’s incredible to imagine, and you used to lay awake at night just thinking about what it would be like to have lights you could control. For the streets to be lit with more than just the dull, red glow from the smog-filled sky. Or the ability to make the inside of the buildings as warm or as cool as you want without having to put on extra clothes or rub dust into your skin to keep off the heat of the day. But then imagining started making you angry, and instead, you would climb the Barriers, getting as high as you could to look at the Upper City lights that reflect off the clouds. You figured out long ago that this is what causes the Lower City to be bathed in red light, no matter what time of day or night it is. When people climbed, stacking these buildings taller and taller as they grasped at the heavens, they took the power with them. The cables stayed behind, creating this thick web of rubber and metal that crisscrosses between the buildings, all but blocking out what little of the (text-style: "blurrier")+(text-color: "#C52C03")[glowing red sky] you can see. It doesn’t matter anyway. Looking at the swirling clouds of smog for too long makes you feel sick. You find a good handhold and are just starting to pull yourself off the ground when you hear running footsteps coming from somewhere down the alleyway. You jump back down and turn toward the sound, brushing your hands off on your trousers, just in time to see Asa, a lanky, thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes race around the corner. Right now, those unsettling gray eyes are filled with panic. “I need your help!” she pants. You can hear the fear in her voice, too, and it makes your heart jump just a little. Asa is rarely frightened. Maybe you should be worried after all. “Elijah fell, and I think he’s hurt pretty badly. He won’t let me see, and I can’t move him by myself. I need more hands.” She looks you up and down, and you fight to keep a blush from spreading across your cheeks. She’s just appraising your strength, anyway. “Can you help me lift him?” You shrug one shoulder. The kid is puny enough that you could probably lift him with one arm. You mull it over for a moment, and then say… [[“Of course I’ll help you. Let’s go.”|Help1]] [[“I don’t think so. I haven’t even started Gathering yet, and I’d really like to eat today. Maybe someone else can help you.”|Right Person]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [It’s only been a few days since you last visited the Waterworks. You’re skeptical that anything would have washed down there. Surely the rain wasn’t hard enough for that, especially if it didn’t even wake you up. Maybe you should get a few of the other young children to go with you. There isn’t much excitement in the Waterworks for you anymore, but there’s a somewhat mean streak in you that finds satisfaction in scaring the other kids. The tunnels are dark, and they smell bad, and as much as you want to pretend that danger doesn’t affect you, they are dangerous. It’s a maze down there. The pipes used to carry water into the City and remove waste, which is almost as hard to believe as the City once having power. They twist and turn, and if you get lost down there, chances are you’ll never find your way out. But something about that pipe intrigues you today. It’s strange, the way you feel an almost magnetic pull toward the gaping mouth. Fine. You’ll check it out, but you won’t go far. If nothing turns up down there, you won’t waste your time. You turn and head in that direction. No one pays you any mind as you take off at a languid jog, which works for you. You like to fly under the radar. As you approach, you notice a few figures already huddled around the mouth of the pipe. You hesitate. Despite considering the fun of scaring the other kids, you really didn’t feel like Gathering with anyone else today. You’re a little on edge, and the other kids get on your nerves more often than not. But you keep moving when you notice that one of the figures, a small one, is on the ground. “What happened?” you ask as you get closer. You know these kids. They are the other Gatherers in the City. Normally they would all be off choosing what area they want to work in today, but instead they are clustered around Elijah, who is sitting on the ground clutching his leg. “Elijah tried to climb to the top of the pipe. He said something about squeezing through a hole up there, but he slipped on some of the mildew and fell. I think he might be really hurt, but he won’t let me see.” The girl speaking is Asa. She is a lanky, thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes. You know her as the unofficial healer of the group. No one here has any training, and you definitely don’t have any supplies, but she has a natural talent for fixing small cuts and scrapes, helping the blood clot and the skin knit back together. Many times you’ve seen her spit into a wound and rub dirt into it, picking small pieces of stone out of the torn skin. It’s good to have someone like her around. You’ve seen people die from infection down here. But when you look at Elijah and see the blood running down his leg from underneath his shaking hands, even your strong stomach turns over. “I think we need to move him,” Asa says. There’s a waver in her voice that you’ve never heard, and she keeps glancing at the dark mouth of the pipe. Of course. She’s scared. “I can’t do it on my own. Will you help?” [[“Yeah, I guess so. I’m here now anyway.”|Help2]] [[“What hole? What are you talking about?”|Hole]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [It’s been about a week since the last time you and the other children visited the Waterworks. You don’t think the rain was hard enough to wash anything down there, especially if it didn’t even wake you up. But maybe you should check it out. You could get a few of the others to go with you. There isn’t much excitement in the Waterworks for you anymore, but if you can scare some of the other kids, you’ll at least get some entertainment out of it. The Waterworks tunnels are dark, and they smell bad, and as much as you want to pretend that you aren’t frightened, they are dangerous. It’s a maze down there. The pipes twist and turn, and if you get lost down there, you may never find your way out. These pipes used to carry water into the City and remove waste, which is almost as hard to believe as the City once having power. Where did everything go after it was pumped out? And more baffling, where did the water come from? But something about the Waterworks intrigues you today. It’s strange, the way you feel an almost magnetic pull toward the gaping mouth. Fine. You’ll check it out, but you won’t go far. If nothing turns up down there, you won’t waste any more of your time. And you won’t get the other children involved. If they come with you, everything will get more complicated. You turn and head in that direction. No one pays you any mind as you take off at a languid jog, which works for you today. You don’t want to draw attention. As you approach the pipe, you notice that a few figures are already huddled around its mouth. You hesitate, and consider heading in a different direction, but then you notice that one of the figures, a small one, is on the ground. “What happened?” you ask as you get closer. You know these kids. Normally you would Gather with them, but right now they are clustered around Elijah, who is sitting on the ground clutching his leg. “Elijah tried to climb to the top of the pipe. He said something about squeezing through a hole up there, but he slipped on some mildew and fell. I think he might be really hurt, but he won’t let me see." The girl speaking is Asa. She is a lanky, thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes. You know her as the unofficial healer of the group. No one here has any training, and you definitely don’t have any supplies, but she has a natural talent for fixing small cuts and scrapes, helping the blood clot and the skin knit back together. Many times you’ve seen her spit into a wound and rub dirt into it, picking small pieces of stone out of the torn skin. It’s good to have someone like her around. You’ve seen people die from infection down here. But when you look at Elijah and see the blood running down his leg from between his shaking fingers, your stomach turns over. “I think we need to move him,” Asa says. There’s a waver in her voice that you’ve never heard before, and she keeps glancing at the dark mouth of the pipe. Of course. She’s scared. “I can’t do it on my own. Will you help?” [[“Yeah, I guess so. We don't want to leave him here.”|Help2]] [[“What hole? What are you talking about?”|Hole]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [You can’t remember the last time you went into the Waterworks. The younger children like to explore them for a thrill, but now that you’re older, they just feel unnecessarily dangerous. You don’t think anything worthwhile washed down there, anyway, especially if the rain wasn’t even hard enough to wake you up. But maybe it would be worth checking out. The Waterworks tunnels are dark, and they smell bad. It’s a maze down there. The pipes twist and turn, and if you get lost, you may never find your way out again, even with the help of the search parties that congregate and go looking for missing children. A few haven’t made it out, and while it’s rare, it’s a stark reminder of how easy it is to lose your way. These pipes used to carry water into the City and remove waste. It’s almost as hard to imagine as the power that once ran to the City. Where did everything go after it was pumped out? And even more baffling, where did the water come from? But today is strange. Something about the dark, gaping mouth of the Waterworks intrigues you. You can’t explain the magnetic pull you feel, and before you realize it, you’ve taken off at a languid jog. No one pays you any mind, which is perfect. You don’t want to draw attention. You won’t enter the pipe very far, and if nothing turns up down there, you won’t waste any more of your time, either. You definitely don’t want to get the other children involved. Everything is more complicated when they come along. As you approach the pipe, you notice that a few figures are already huddled around its mouth. You hesitate and consider turning around, but you notice that one of the figures, a small one, is on the ground. “What happened?” you ask as you get closer. You know these kids. You don’t Gather with them, but you see them every day, searching through the garbage and bickering about the things they find. Now, though, they are clustered around Elijah, who is sitting on the ground clutching his leg. “Elijah tried to climb to the top of the pipe. He said something about squeezing through a hole up there, but he slipped on some mildew and fell. I think he might be really hurt, but he won’t let me see.” The girl speaking is Asa. She is a lanky, thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes. You know her as the unofficial healer of the group. No one here has any training, and you definitely don’t have any supplies, but she has a natural talent for fixing small cuts and scrapes, helping the blood clot and the skin knit back together. You can’t count how many times you’ve seen her spit into a wound and rub dirt into it, picking small pieces of stone out of the torn skin. She started learning the human body at a very young age. It’s good to have someone like her around. You’ve seen people die from infection down here. But when you look at Elijah and see the blood running down his leg from between his shaking fingers, even your strong stomach turns over. “I think we need to move him,” Asa says. There’s a waver in her voice that you’ve never heard before, and she keeps glancing at the dark mouth of the pipe. Of course. She’s scared, but for no reason. There’s nothing in there that will hurt any of you out here. “I can’t do it on my own. Will you help?” [[“Yeah, I guess so. It doesn’t look like any of the rest of you are doing anything.”|Help2]] [[“What hole? What are you talking about?”|Hole]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [It’s against your better judgement, but you turn reluctantly and approach the closest stall. There are no customers here, but a small crowd has gathered close by, and you (text-style:"condense")[squeeze] through the people’s legs to get through. Your small stature frustrates you more often than not, but these are the moments when it comes in handy. This stall is run by an older woman. She looks as old as the Elders you’ve never seen. You almost ask her why some old people are Elders while others have to run filthy stalls here in the City Centre, but you change your mind at the last moment and close your mouth. Instead, you peer at her wares, which are spread out on the ground in front of her on a dirty scrap of fabric. “What are you looking for, little one?” she asks in a wavery voice. You bristle at the term of endearment, but when you look up into her cloudy eyes, a pang of sympathy replaces it. It’s not a feeling you have often, and it quickly turns into relief that you probably won’t live long enough to become like her. “Nothing, really,” you respond. You reach out and turn a rock over with your pinky finger. If you squint hard enough, it could be a pointed tool, maybe sharp enough to cut through a thin cable or a particularly old piece of fabric. You would have to spend some time beating it against the wall of a building to sharpen it first. You consider asking her about a lantern, but then she smiles at you and underneath it you see a hint of disappointment. She won’t be making any sales today, and you’re pretty sure she knows it. Everything she has to offer is spread here on this dirty scrap of fabric. You look around to make sure no one sees you, and in a moment of weakness you reach into your pack and give her the rock-hard piece of bread you were saving for your own dinner. You’ll go to bed with a rumbling stomach, but you’re young. You can handle it better than she can. Her smile widens and her eyes crinkle at the corners in a way you haven’t seen until now. This is a real smile. You turn to run off, trying to leave the uncomfortable guilty feeling you get from the woman, when suddenly you’re face to face with Asa, a lanky, thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes. Right now, those gray eyes are large with panic. “I need your help,” she says, and there’s a waver in her voice that you aren’t used to. “Elijah fell, and I think he’s hurt pretty badly. He won’t let me see, and I can’t move him by myself. I need more hands.” She looks you up and down. “I know he’ll be too heavy for you, but—” “You think I can’t help just because I’m small,” you snarl at her. She actually takes a step backward. The sight is satisfying. When she doesn’t speak again, you roll your eyes. You glance back at the stall and the old woman who is turning the bread over in her hands contemplatively. You’re kidding yourself. No one here has a lantern. You look back at Asa and say… [["Yeah, sure, I guess I'll help. But you'll owe me."|Help1]] [["No, I haven't even started Gathering yet. I'm not going hungry tonight for Elijah."|Right Person]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [It’s against your better judgement, but you turn reluctantly and approach the closest stall. There are no customers here, but a small crowd has gathered close by, and you have to push your way through. They ignore you, mostly, but a few look down and grumble about the children. Like you aren’t the ones who are keeping this City alive. This stall is run by an older woman. She looks as old as the Elders you’ve never seen, and you wonder why some old people become Elders while others have to run filthy stalls here in the City Centre. You consider asking her, but you know better. Instead, you peer down at her wares, which are spread out on the ground in front of her on a dirty scrap of fabric. “What are you looking for, little one?” she asks in a wavery voice. The term makes your head snap up in surprise. No one has called you that in a long time unless they’re making fun of you. Somehow you don’t mind when this old woman does it, though. When you look into her cloudy eyes, a pang of sympathy hits you. It’s not a feeling you have often, and it quickly turns into relief when you realize that you probably won’t live long enough to become like her. “Nothing, really,” you respond. You reach out and turn a rock over with your pinky finger. If you squint hard enough, it could be a pointed tool, maybe sharp enough to cut through a thin cable or a particularly rotten piece of fabric. You would have to spend some time beating it against the wall of a building to sharpen it first. You consider asking her about a lantern, but looking at what she has here already, you know better. She smiles at you, and underneath it you see a hint of disappointment. She won’t be making any sales today, and she knows it as well as you do. You glance around to make sure no one sees you, and in an uncharacteristic moment of care, you reach into your pack and give her the rock-hard piece of bread you were saving for your own dinner. You’ll go to bed with a rumbling stomach, but you’re young. You can handle it better than she can. Her smile widens and her eyes crinkle at the corners in a way you haven’t seen until now. This is a real smile. You turn to run off, leaving the uncomfortable guilty feeling behind, when suddenly you’re face to face with Asa, a lanky, thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes. She startles you so much that you take a quick step back, your foot landing on the corner of the woman’s fabric. You mutter an apology and look at Asa, whose unsettling gray eyes are large with fear. “I need your help,” she pants. You can hear the fear in her voice, too, and it makes your heart pound faster. Asa is rarely frightened. “Elijah fell, and I think he’s hurt pretty badly. He won’t let me see, and I can’t move him by myself. I need more hands.” She looks you up and down, clearly appraising your strength. “You can help me lift him, right?” You almost snap at her that of course you can help lift Elijah. The kid is puny enough that you could probably lift him alone. But you calm yourself and say… [[“Of course I’ll help you. Lead the way.”|Help1]] [[“I don’t know if I’m the right person to help. I’m not weak or anything, but I haven’t even started Gathering yet.”|Right Person]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [It’s against your better judgement, but you turn reluctantly and approach the closest stall. There are no customers here, but a small crowd has gathered close by, and you have to maneuver your way through. They ignore you, mostly, but a few look down over and grumble about the children. Like you aren’t caught between childhood and adulthood. Like you aren’t the ones who are keeping this City alive. This stall is run by an older woman. She looks as old as the Elders, from what you can remember of the one time you saw them. You wonder why some old people become Elders while other have to run filthy stalls here in the City Centre. You know better than to ask her. Instead, you peer down at her wares, which are spread out on the ground in front of her on a dirty scrap of fabric. “What are you looking for, little one?” she asks in a wavery voice. Your head snaps up in surprise. You can’t remember the last time you heard that nickname. When you look into her cloudy eyes, a pang of sympathy and something else hits you. You can’t identify it right away, but you think it’s longing. You’ve never had an adult treat you like anything other than vermin under their feet. It transitions quickly into pity and then relief when you realize that you probably won’t live long enough to become like her. “Nothing, really,” you respond. You reach out and turn a rock over with your pinky finger. If you squint hard enough, it could be a pointed tool, maybe sharp enough to cut through a thin cable or a particularly rotten piece of fabric. You would have to spend some time beating it against the wall of a building to sharpen it first. You consider asking her about a lantern, but looking at what she has here already, you know better. She smiles at you, and underneath it you see a hint of disappointment. She won’t be making any sales today, and she knows it as well as you do. You glance around to make sure no one sees you, and in an uncharacteristic moment of care, you reach into your pack and give her the rock-hard piece of bread you were saving for your own dinner. You’ll go to bed with a rumbling stomach, but you’re young. You can handle it better than she can. Her smile widens and her eyes crinkly at the corners in a way you haven’t seen until now. This is a real smile. You turn to run off, leaving the uncomfortable guilty feeling behind, when suddenly you’re face to face with Asa, a lanky thin girl with stringy blonde hair and sunken eyes. Right now, those unsettling gray eyes are filled with panic. “I need your help,” she pants. You can hear the fear in her voice, too, and it makes your heart jump just a little. Asa is rarely frightened. Maybe you should be worried after all. “Elijah fell, and I think he’s hurt pretty badly. He won’t let me see, and I can’t move him by myself. I need more hands.” She looks you up and down, and you fight to keep a blush from spreading across your cheeks. She’s just appraising your strength, anyway. “Can you help me lift him?” You shrug one shoulder. The kid is puny enough that you could probably lift him with one arm. You mull it over for a moment, and then say… [[“Of course I’ll help you. Let’s go.”|Help1]] [[“I don’t think so. I haven’t even started Gathering yet, and I’d really like to eat today. Maybe someone else can help you.”|Right Person]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [With an, admittedly overdramatic, sigh, you turn and follow Asa. No one pays you any mind as you leave. Your heart gives a (text-style:"shudder")[stutter] as you round the corner and approach the Waterworks. No matter how hard you pretend that the Waterworks don’t frighten you anymore, you still get a little rush of excitement (click-replace:"excitement")[(text-color:red)+(text-style:"bold")[fear]] when you see the wide tunnel mouth. It seems that you were meant to come here today after all. You notice a few figures already huddled around a small one on the ground. You feel a little flash of anger—couldn’t these kids have helped Asa? She didn’t need to interrupt your day. “What happened?” you ask as you get closer. You know these kids. They are the other Gatherers in the City. Normally they would all be off choosing what area they want to work in today, but instead they are clustered around Elijah, who is sitting on the ground clutching his leg. “Elijah tried to climb to the top of the pipe. He said something about squeezing through a hole up there, but he slipped on some of the mildew and fell. I think he may be really hurt.” Asa is the unofficial healer of your little group. No one here has any training, and you definitely don’t have any supplies, but she has a natural talent for fixing small cuts and scrapes, helping the blood clot and the skin knit back together. Many times you’ve seen her spit into a wound or rub dirt into it, picking small pieces of stone out of the torn skin. It’s good to have someone like her around. You’ve seen people die from infection down here. But when you look at Elijah and see the blood running down his leg from underneath his shaking hands, even your strong stomach turns over. “I think we need to move him,” Asa says. There’s a waver in her voice that you’ve never heard before, and she keeps glancing at the dark mouth of the pipe. Of course. She’s scared. You refrain from rolling your eyes. “I can’t do it on my own. Can you lift his legs?” [[“Yeah, I guess so. I’m here now anyway.”|Help2]] [[“What hole? What are you talking about?”|Hole]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [Your hesitation is more obvious than you would like, but you turn to follow Asa anyway. No one pays you any mind as you leave. Your heart gives a (text-style:"shudder")[stutter] as you round the corner and approach the Waterworks. No matter how hard you pretend that the Waterworks don’t frighten you anymore, you still get a little rush of nerves(click-replace:"nerves")[(text-color:red)+(text-style:"bold")[fear]] when you see the wide tunnel mouth. It seems that you were meant to come here today after all. You notice a few figures already huddled around a small one on the ground. Your brows furrow as you take them in—couldn’t they have helped Asa? Why did she have to run for help? “What happened?” you ask as you get closer. You know these kids. They are the other Gatherers in the City. Normally they would all be off choosing what area they want to work in today, but instead they are clustered around Elijah, who is sitting on the ground clutching his leg. “Elijah tried to climb to the top of the pipe. He said something about squeezing through a hole up there, but he slipped on some of the mildew and fell. I think he may be really hurt.” Asa is the unofficial healer of your little group. No one here has any training, and you definitely don’t have any supplies, but she has a natural talent for fixing small cuts and scrapes, helping the blood clot and the skin knit back together. Many times you’ve seen her spit into a wound or rub dirt into it, picking small pieces of stone out of the torn skin. It’s good to have someone like her around. You’ve seen people die from infection down here. But when you look at Elijah and see the blood running down his leg from underneath his shaking hands, your stomach turns over. (text-style:"italic")[‘Don’t throw up,’] you tell yourself, swallowing hard. “I think we need to move him,” Asa says. There’s a waver in her voice that you’ve never heard before, and she keeps glancing at the dark mouth of the pipe. Of course. She’s scared. You don’t blame her. These pipes have always frightened you. The Lower City is so closed off by walls and buildings that you almost never feel a breeze, but somehow the pipes blow a clammy breath across the back of your neck. “I can’t do it on my own. Can you lift his legs?” [[“Yeah, you’re right. We shouldn’t stay here.”|Help2]] [[“What hole? There’s a hole up there?”|Hole]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [You turn to follow Asa without another comment. No one pays you any mind as you walk away. Your heart gives a little jump as you round the corner and approach the Waterworks. You don’t know how you feel about them anymore. They used to frighten you, but now you think you just feel indifferent (click-replace:"indifferent")[(text-color:red)+(text-style:"bold")[angry]] when you see the wide tunnel mouth. It’s a taunt, really, a false hope that there is a way out of this place. But it seems that you were meant to come here today. You can see a few figures already huddled around a small one on the ground. Your jaw tightens as you take them in—couldn’t they have helped Asa instead of letting her run off to find you? “What happened?” you ask as you get closer. You try not to let your apathy seep into your voice. You know these kids. They are the other, younger Gatherers in the City. Normally they would all be off choosing what area they want to work in today, but instead they are clustered around Elijah, who is sitting on the ground clutching his leg. “Elijah tried to climb to the top of the pipe. He said something about squeezing through a hole up there, but he slipped on some of the mildew and fell. I think he may be really hurt.” Asa is the unofficial healer of your little group. No one here has any training, and you definitely don’t have any supplies, but she has a natural talent for fixing small cuts and scrapes, helping the blood clot and the skin knit back together. Many times you’ve seen her spit into a wound or rub dirt into it, picking small pieces of stone out of the torn skin. She’s one of the only other kids you can stand. It’s good to have someone like her around. You’ve seen people die from infection down here. But when you look at Elijah and see the blood running down his leg from underneath his shaking hands, tension fills your stomach. This may be above even Asa’s skills. “I think we need to move him,” she says. There’s a waver in her voice that you’ve never heard before, and she keeps glancing at the dark mouth of the pipe. Of course. She’s scared. You refrain from telling the whole group that you don’t have time for fear. The Lower City is so closed off by walls and buildings that you almost never feel a breeze, but somehow the pipes blow a clammy breath across the back of your neck as you step in between Asa and the mouth of the pipe, cutting off her line of sight. She seems to snap out of it. “I can’t lift him on my own,” she says. She’s ignoring both the pipe and the other kids now, focusing only on you and Elijah. Her attention feels unusual and uncomfortable, but somehow you think you like it. “Can you lift his legs?” [[“Yeah, I can. Elijah, hold still.”|Help2]] [[“There’s no hole up there.”|Hole]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [You take a step back from Asa, her desperation, and the thought of helping Elijah repelling you. “No, I haven’t even started Gathering yet. Why should I miss a meal because of him? He already cheated me out of a good Gather last week.” “Please!” Asa says, closing the gap between you. “He’s being…odd. And the other kids are…I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t want to leave him with them. I had to so I could come find help, but now we’re wasting time. Please come?” You say… [[“Fine, I’ll come help. But you'll owe me.”|Help1]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [You take a step back from Asa, both frightened by what she is telling you and annoyed that she would find you weak. “I don’t know if I’m the right person to help. I’m not weak or anything, but I haven’t even started Gathering yet.” “Please!” Asa says, closing the gap between you. “He’s being…odd. And the other kids are…I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t want to leave him with them. I had to so I could come find help, and now we’re wasting time. Please come?” You say… [[“Yes, okay. Of course I’ll help. Lead the way.”|Help1]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [“I don’t think so. I haven’t even started Gathering yet, and I’d really like to eat today. Maybe someone else can help you.” “Please!” Asa says, closing the gap between you. Your heart skips a beat and you tell it silently to shut up. “He’s being…odd. And the other kids are…I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t want to leave him with them. I had to so I could come find help, and now we’re wasting time. Please come?” You say… [[“Yes, okay. I’ll help. Lead the way.”|Help1]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [“Yeah, I guess so. I’m here anyway,” you grumble, stepping closer to Elijah. You look around at the group of kids. “Can someone at least do something? Grab him under his arms?” Joshua, another boy who fights for dominance in this little group, steps forward and puts his hands under Elijah’s arms. He looks at you over the top of his head with frightened eyes but a determined jaw. With another eye roll, you reach for his legs, but he kicks out at you with his uninjured one, just missing your stomach. “Watch it!” you snarl, but Elijah’s eyes are wide. “Don’t move me!” he snaps. “Can’t you see that I’m hurt?” “Yes,” you snap. “That’s the whole point! Asa can’t help you here.” “I need to stay here,” Elijah says, and even through the petulance on his face you can see that he’s frightened. “That hole up there. I saw something moving on the other side. I swear!” “You didn’t see anything, you idiot,” Joshua chimes in. His face is pale. “Stop lying to make us like you!" An uncomfortable silence falls over the group, and you know you’re all thinking the same thing. He can’t be right. He’s always lying about something. There isn’t a hole that goes all the way through that wall. And there’s nothing moving on the other side. Asa is the first to shake off the strange trance. “Come on,” she says, gesturing to Elijah. She’s regained some of her usual bossiness. “Let’s go. Let’s get him into that alleyway.” You grasp Elijah under his knees and this time he doesn’t try to kick you. If he had, you would have punched him in the face, injury and all. As you and Joshua move him, your hands become slippery with his blood. It makes you think of the slick feeling of the moss that grows on the wall, and you grimace. He and Asa //both// owe you for this one. As soon as you set him down in the alleyway, you take a step back. You don’t mind injuries, or at least, you can’t let anyone else know that they make you a little woozy. If you can avoid seeing an open wound, you will. You turn to look back at the mouth of the pipe, just visible around the corner as the haze of the day settles in. Behind you, Asa is coaxing Elijah to move his hands, and the children are all distracted as they watch. You look down at your own hands one more time and back away from the group, only turning to walk quickly when you’re sure they aren’t paying attention to you anymore. You’re back at the pipe, staring up at the top where Elijah slipped. Without taking your eyes off the spot, you crouch to rinse your hands off in a puddle on the ground. The iron smell of blood still clings to your skin. Everything smells like iron down here. You… [[turn to leave. Elijah is lying, and you should really do some Gathering while you have the time.|Gather]] [[search for a handhold and start to pull yourself up the side of the pipe. It can’t hurt to take a look, even if Elijah is an idiot.|Climb]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [“Yeah, you’re right. We shouldn’t stay here,” you glance nervously at the pipe before stepping closer to Elijah. You look around at the group of kids. “Can someone grab him under his arms?” Joshua, another boy who fights for dominance in this little group, steps forward and puts his hands under Elijah’s arms. He looks at you over the top of his head with frightened eyes but a determined jaw. After a moment of hesitation, you reach for his legs, but he kicks out at you with his uninjured one, just missing your stomach. You jump back in surprise. Elijah’s eyes are wide. “Don’t move me!” he snaps. “Can’t you see that I’m hurt?” “Yes,” you say impatiently, your patience running out. “That’s the whole point! Asa can’t help you here.” “I need to stay here,” Elijah says, and even through the petulance on his face you can see that he’s frightened. “That hole up there. I saw something moving on the other side. I swear!” “You didn’t see anything, you idiot,” Joshua chimes in. His face is pale. “Stop lying to make us like you! An uncomfortable silence falls over the group, and you know you’re all thinking the same thing. He can’t be right. He’s always lying about something. There isn’t a hole that goes all the way through that wall. And there’s nothing moving on the other side. There //can’t// be. Asa is the first to shake off the strange trance. “Come on,” she says, gesturing to Elijah. She’s regained some of her usual command. “Let’s go. Let’s get him into that alleyway.” You grasp Elijah under his knees and this time he doesn’t try to kick you. If he had, you don’t think you could have made yourself help him any more. You like these kids, but even you have your limits. As you and Joshua move him, your hands become slippery with his blood. It makes you think of the slick feeling of the moss that grows on the wall, and you fight back the urge to gag. As soon as you set him down in the alleyway, you take a step back, hands shaking a little. You have no choice but to deal with injuries down here, but you still can’t help the sick feeling they give you. If you can do anything at all to avoid seeing an open wound, you will. You turn to look back at the mouth of the pipe, just visible around the corner as the haze of the day settles in. Behind you, Asa is coaxing Elijah to move his hands, and the children are all distracted as they watch. You look down at your own hands one more time and back away from the group, only turning to walk quickly when you’re sure they aren’t paying attention to you anymore. You’re back at the pipe, staring at the top where Elijah slipped. You crouch to rinse your hands off in a puddle on the ground. No matter how much you scrub, using some of the warm grit that lies at the bottom of the water, you don’t feel like you’ve gotten all the blood out from under your fingernails. The iron smell still clings to your skin. Everything smells like iron down here. You… [[get up and leave. You’ve already wasted enough time, and you still haven’t done any Gathering.|Gather]] [[cautiously approach the pipe. Maybe you can find a better handhold than Elijah did…|Climb]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [“Yeah, I can. Elijah, hold still,” you say as you step closer to the injured boy. You look around at the group of kids. “I could use some help here. Someone get him under his arms.” Joshua, another boy who fights for dominance in this little group, steps forward and puts his hands under Elijah’s arms. He looks at you over the top of his head with frightened eyes but a determined jaw. You mirror his stance, reaching for his legs, but he kicks out at you with his uninjured one, just missing your stomach. You knock the blow out of the way, catching him off guard. His eyes are wide. “Watch it!” you snarl, gripping his legs harder so he can’t try the stunt again. “Don’t move me!” he snaps. “Can’t you see that I’m hurt?” “Yes,” you snap back. “That’s the whole point! Asa can’t help you here.” “I need to stay here,” Elijah says, and even through the petulance on his face you can see that he’s frightened. “That hole up there. I saw something moving on the other side. I swear!” “You didn’t see anything, you idiot,” Joshua chimes in. His face is pale. “Stop lying to make us like you! An uncomfortable silence falls over the group, and you know you’re all thinking the same thing. He can’t be right. He’s always lying about something. There isn’t a hole that goes all the way through that wall. And there’s nothing moving on the other side. There //can’t// be. Asa is the first to shake off the strange trance. “Come on,” she says, gesturing to Elijah. She’s regained some of her usual authority. “Let’s go. Let’s get him into that alleyway.” You grasp Elijah under his knees and this time he doesn’t try to kick you. If he had, you wouldn’t have stopped yourself from giving him another injury. You like these kids okay, but you won’t tolerate anyone lashing out at you like that. As you and Joshua move him, your hands become slippery with his blood. It makes you think of the slick feeling of the moss that grows on the wall, and your face twists in repulsion. When you set him down in the alleyway, you take a step back. Your part of this is over. Injuries are a part of life down here, but if you can avoid seeing an open wound, you will. You turn to look back at the mouth of the pipe, just visible around the corner as the haze of the day settles in. Behind you, Asa is coaxing Elijah to move his hands, and the children are all distracted as they watch. You look down at your own hands one more time and back away from the group, only turning to walk quickly when you’re sure they aren’t paying attention to you anymore. You’re back at the pipe, staring at the top where Elijah slipped. You crouch to rinse your hands off in a puddle on the ground. No matter how much you scrub, using some of the warm grit that lies at the bottom of the water, you still feel the annoyance of Elijah’s blood under your fingernails. The iron smell still clings to your skin. Everything smells like iron down here. You… [[stand to leave. This is such a waste of time, and you still haven't even started Gathering.|Gather]] [[approach the pipe instead. You search for a handhold and start to pull yourself upwards. At least you can prove them all wrong.|Climb]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [You consider climbing the pipe just to prove Elijah wrong. It would be satisfying to watch his face when you call down to him that he's a liar, and there's nothing up here. But you stop yourself. You don't have time for this. He //is// lying, and you all know it. That's the only explanation. He's always trying to make himself look more important by pretending that he's found new things or that he knows more than everyone else. Just last week he was trying to tell anyone who would listen that he contacted the Upper City, but you disproved that quickly, too. It's no wonder that he hates you, but you can't bring yourself to care. You roll your eyes and walk away, heading down the street toward the sound of other Gatherers. The day is warming up, and sweat trickles down your spine, disappearing into your tunic. If you focus, you can still feel the cool, clammy breath of the Waterworks pipe as you leave it behind. You don't turn to look, but the thought stays with you for the rest of the day. What if...? ==><== (text-size:1)[END.] <== Do you want to [[start again?|Beginning]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [You consider climbing the pipe just to calm your own nerves. The idea of a hole that leads all the way Outside is both intriguing and horrifying. If someone can squeeze out through it then what could get inside...? //'Stop thinking that way,'// you tell yourself firmly. Elijah is lying, and everyone knows it. He's always trying to make himself look more important by pretending that he's found new things or that he knows secrets no one else does. Just last week he was trying to tell anyone who would listen that he contacted the Upper City. That was disproved quickly, too. You can't shake the feeling of disappointment that settles across your shoulders as you walk away. You can hear the sounds of other Gatherers down the street, and you head in their direction. The day is warming up, and sweat trickles down your spine, disappearing into your tunic. Despite the heat, you can still feel the cool, clammy breath of the Waterworks pipe as you leave it behind. You don't turn to look, but the thought stays with you for the rest of the day. What if...? ==><== (text-size:1)[END.] <== Do you want to [[start again?|Beginning]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [You consider climbing the pipe just for something different. The idea of a hole that leads all the way Outside is intriguing, but there’s nothing up there. Elijah //is// lying, and everyone knows it. Just last week he was trying to tell anyone who would listen that he contacted the Upper City, but one of the smallest children disproved that quickly. But you can’t shake the creeping feeling of disappointment that settles across your shoulders as you walk away. You can hear the sounds of other Gatherers down the street, and you head in that direction. The day is warming up, and sweat trickles down your spine, disappearing into your tunic. Despite the heat, you can still feel the cool, clammy breath of the Waterworks pipe as you leave it behind. You don’t turn to look, but the thought stays with you for the rest of the day. What if…? ==><== (text-size:1)[END.] <== Do you want to [[start again?|Beginning]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [You ignore Asa’s request and the sight of the blood that is quickly seeping through Elijah’s hands. “What hole? What are you talking about?” “Up there,” Elijah says, suddenly. You weren’t expecting him to speak. He points and the sight of the blood caking his palm makes you sneer in disgust. “I saw something moving on the other side, I swear!” “You didn’t see anything, you idiot,” Joshua chimes in. He steps forward, another boy who fights for dominance in the little group. His face is pale. “Stop lying to make us like you! An uncomfortable silence falls over the group, and you know you’re all thinking the same thing. He can’t be right. He’s always lying about something. There isn’t a hole that goes all the way through that wall. And there’s nothing moving on the other side. Asa is the first to shake off the strange trance. “Let’s lift him,” she says. “Let’s get him away from this pipe, at least. Someone grab him under his arms.” Joshua puts his hands under Elijah’s arms and looks at you over the top of his head. His eyes are frightened, but his jaw is set with determination. With another eye roll, you step forward and reach for his legs, but he kicks out at you with his uninjured one, just missing your stomach. “Watch it!” you snarl, but Elijah’s eyes are wide. “Don’t move me!” he snaps. “I need to stay here.” “Fine!” you say, dropping his legs and taking a step back. There’s already blood smearing your fingers, and you carelessly wipe it off on your trousers. “You can deal with him.” You look at Asa and Joshua. “I don’t know why you asked me to come here anyway.” You look back up at the pipe, staring up at the top where Elijah slipped. You… [[turn to leave. They don’t want you here, and you should do some Gathering while you still have the time.|Gather]] [[search for a handhold and start to pull yourself up the side of the pipe. You can’t help your curiosity.|Climb]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [Asa’s request reaches your ears, but all you can hear is the fear that filled your mind when they mentioned the hole. You can’t process her words or the blood that is quickly seeping through Elijah’s hands. “What hole? There’s a hole up there?” It’s hard to keep your voice steady. “At the top,” Elijah says, suddenly. You weren’t expecting him to speak. He points to the very top of the pipe’s mouth, where it connects with the wall, and the sight of the blood caking his palm makes you shiver. “I saw something moving on the other side, I swear!” “You didn’t see anything you idiot,” Joshua chimes in. He steps forward, another boy who fights for dominance in the little group. His face is pale. “Stop lying to make us like you! An uncomfortable silence falls over the group, and you know you’re all thinking the same thing. He can’t be right. He’s always lying about something. There isn’t a hole that goes all the way through that wall. And there’s nothing moving on the other side. There //can’t// be. Asa is the first to shake off the strange trance that has settled over the group. “Let’s lift him,” she says. “Let’s get him away from this pipe, at least. Someone grab him under his arms.” Joshua puts his hands under Elijah’s arms and looks at you over the top of his head. His eyes are frightened, but his jaw is set with determination. After a moment of hesitation, you step forward and reach for his legs. He kicks out at you with his uninjured one, just missing your stomach. You jump back in surprise. Elijah’s eyes are wide. “Don’t move me!” he snaps. “I need to stay here!” You look to Asa and Joshua. “Maybe you should deal with him. He doesn’t really like me anyway, so I’ll probably just make everything worse.” You… [[turn to leave. Elijah doesn’t want you here, and you should really do some Gathering before you waste the whole day.|Gather]] [[cautiously approach the pipe. Maybe you can find a better handhold than Elijah did…|Climb]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [Asa’s request reaches your ears, but your mind is buzzing too loudly to process her words. They can’t be right. You know better than to believe that there is any way through this wall. The thickness alone guarantees that no hole could lead all the way through. “There’s no hole up there,” you say. Your words come out more disappointed than you expected. “Yes, there is!” Elijah insists suddenly. You weren’t expecting him to speak. He points to the very top of the pipe’s mouth, where it connects to the wall. The blood is already drying on his hands, but you can see it running fresh down his leg where he moved his hand. He really is losing a lot. “I saw something moving on the other side, I swear it!” “You didn’t see anything you idiot,” Joshua chimes in. He steps forward, another boy who fights for dominance in the little group. His face is pale. “Stop lying to make us like you! An uncomfortable silence falls over the group, and you know you’re all thinking the same thing. He can’t be right. He’s always lying about something. There isn’t a hole that goes all the way through that wall. And there’s nothing moving on the other side. There //can’t// be. Asa is the first to shake off the strange trance that has settled over the group. “Let’s lift him,” she says. “Let’s get him away from this pipe, at least. Someone grab him under his arms.” Joshua puts his hands under Elijah’s arms and looks at you over the top of his head. His eyes are frightened, but his jaw is set with determination. You mirror his stance, reaching for his legs. Elijah kicks out at you with his uninjured one, just missing your stomach. You knock the blow out of the way, catching him off guard. His eyes are wide. “Watch it!” you snarl, gripping his legs harder so he can’t try the stunt again. “Don’t move me!” he snaps back. “I need to stay here!” You look to Asa and Joshua exasperatedly. “You know what?” you say, backing up and lifting your hands. “You can deal with him. I don’t know why you brought me here anyway.” You… [[turn to leave. This is such a waste of time, and you still haven’t even started Gathering.|Gather]] [[approach the pipe instead. You search for a handhold and start to pull yourself upwards. At least you can prove them all wrong.|Climb]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [The (text-colour:#4a5d23)+(text-style: "smear")[moss] is spongey under your fingertips, and you feel some of it ooze underneath your nails. Great. Now your fingernails will be green and everyone will say you're diseased. That the moss is growing inside of you, and that soon you'll be a moss creature. You roll your eyes, but can't help the little shiver that runs down your spine at the thought. You look at your hand. The longer you look, the more tiny details you notice about the plant. The green is dull. This is the only plant you've ever seen, but you guess that all plants look like this. You give your fingers an experimental sniff, and then look around to make sure no one is watching before darting your tongue out and tasting it, too. You can't describe the flavor other than musty, like the smell of the streets after a hard rain, but somehow also pleasant. You want to take another taste, but some voices in the distance stop you, and the other children's taunts play in your head. You wipe your hand on your trousers, adding to the stains that already paint them, and turn [[to the left.|Left]] [[to the right.|Right]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [The (text-colour:#4a5d23)+(text-style: "smear")[moss] is spongey under your fingertips, and you feel some of it ooze under your nails. Great. Now your fingernails will be green and everyone will say you're diseased. That the moss is growing inside of you, and that soon you'll be a moss creature. You're getting too old for the other children's stupid stories, unless you're on the other side of the mocking words. Still, you can't stop the little shiver that runs down your spine at the thought of the moss taking over your body. You look at your hand. The longer you look, the more tiny details you notice about the plant. The green is dull. This is the only plant you've ever seen, and though you wonder sometimes if other plants might exist, you know better. If it doesn't grow in the City, it doesn't grow anywhere. You give your fingers an experimental sniff, and almost risk a taste, but the sound of children's taunting fills your head and you stop. You wipe your hand on your trousers, adding to the stains that already paint them, and turn [[to the left.|Left]] [[to the right.|Right]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [The (text-colour:#4a5d23)+(text-style: "smear")[moss] is spongey under your fingertips, and you feel some of it ooze under your nails. Great. Now your fingernails will be green. It's just about impossible to stay clean here, but you do pride yourself on your personal hygeine, as much as you can control it. If you were younger and still ran with larger packs of children, they would say you're diseased. They would say that the moss is growing inside of you, and that soon you'll be a moss creature. You roll your eyes. You never really believed the other children's stories, but the memory of being taunted for things like that gives you a sick feeling deep in your stomach. You look at your hand. The longer you look, the more tiny details you notice about the plant. The green is dull. You don't know much about plants. For all you know, this could be the only plant left in the whole world, but you like to think there are more. You wonder if this one has adapted to life in the City just like you have, becoming dull and lifeless. You give your fingers an experimental sniff, and would consider a taste, but the smell almost makes you gag. It's musty, like the streets here after a hard rain. You wipe your hand on your trousers, adding to the stains that already paint them, and turn [[to the left.|Left]] [[to the right.|Right]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "A") [You run a hand along the concrete of the pipe, noting where rough edges snag at your skin, or where the moss and algae makes certain places slick. Elijah is an idiot. He probably tried to climb too quickly without thinking about where he was putting his hands and feet. You have to take your time with these things. After a few moments of exploring, you find a crack in the concrete that you can just fit your fingers into. It’s not the best handhold, but it’s probably the best you’ll find here. You are strong from your time Gathering, so it isn’t a terrible strain to lift yourself off the ground. Your feet scrabble for purchase on the side of the pipe, but you find traction quickly. Once you get into a rhythm, it doesn’t take you long to scale the pipe. Honestly, how did Elijah even manage to fall? He shouldn’t have been trying in the first place. You crouch on the top, looking at your surroundings. It’s lucky that no one pays children much mind here. Gatherers find themselves in all kinds of strange places, so while seeing someone on top of the pipe is unusual, it probably won’t raise any alarm. Probably. You can’t see into the alleyway where you took Elijah, but you can just see some of the children huddled at the end of it, curious to see but frightened of the blood. You turn away. They’re distracted for now, but you don’t want them to know that you climbed up here. You don’t want them to think that you believe Elijah, even for a second. Now you’re looking at the place where the pipe disappears into the wall. At first, you don’t see anything besides more concrete and moss. But as you get closer, you notice [[something strange.|Crack]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "B") [You run a hand along the concrete of the pipe, noting where rough edges snag at your skin, or where the moss and algae makes certain places slick. Elijah can be reckless. He probably tried to climb too quickly and didn’t pay attention to where he was putting his hands and feet. You have to take your time with these things. Rushing is how people get hurt. After a few moments of exploring, you find a crack in the concrete that you can just fit your fingers into. It’s not the best handhold, and you aren’t the strongest Gatherer down here, but it’s probably the best you’ll find here. Your muscles shake as you lift yourself off the ground. Your feet scrabble for purchase on the side of the pipe, but just when you’re about to start panicking and jump down instead, you find traction. Once you find your rhythm, it’s not too hard to scale the pipe, but you can understand how Elijah fell, especially if he was in a rush. When you reach the top, you crouch to catch your breath and look at your surroundings. It’s lucky that no one pays children much mind here. Gatherers find themselves in all kinds of strange places, so while seeing someone on top of the pipe is unusual, it probably won’t raise any alarm. But the thought doesn’t stop your heart from pounding. You can’t see into the alleyway where you took Elijah, but you can just see some of the children huddled at the end of it, curious to see but frightened of the blood. You turn away. They’re distracted for now, but you don’t want them to know that you climbed up here. You don’t want them to try to follow you, or to make fun of you for making the same mistake Elijah did. Now you’re looking at the place where the pipe disappears into the wall. At first, you don’t see anything besides more concrete and moss. But as you get closer, you notice [[something strange.|Crack2]]] (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(if: $path is "C") [You run a hand along the concrete of the pipe, noting where rough edges snag at your skin, or where the moss and algae makes certain places slick. Elijah was reckless, but he is young. He probably tried to climb too quickly and didn’t play attention to where he was putting his hands and feet. You learned to take your time a long time ago, but you learned the hard way. You have your share of scars to show for reckless mistakes. After a few minutes of exploring, your find a crack in the concrete. You can just squeeze your fingertips into it. It won’t give you the best handhold, but luckily, your arms and hands are strong from your time Gathering here. This isn’t the first time you’ve climbed a surface that wants to hurt you in return. Your hands cramp a bit as you lift yourself off the ground, and you feel your core muscles tense as your feet skid and scrabble for purchase, but it doesn’t take you long to gain traction. Once you find a rhythm, it isn’t hard to scale the pipe. When you reach the top, you crouch to catch your breath and look out at your surroundings. It’s lucky that no one pays children much mind here, and that you are still small enough to be accepted as a child. Gatherers find themselves in all kinds of strange places, and while seeing someone on top of the pipe is unusual, it probably won’t raise any alarm. Probably. You can’t see into the alleyway where you took Elijah, even when you brace yourself on the mouth of the pipe and lean outwards to stare, but you can just see some of the children huddled at the end of it. They look curious, but you know they are frightened of the blood. You turn away. They’re distracted for now, but you don’t want them to notice you up here. You don’t want to deal with younger children trying to follow you. Now you’re looking at the place where the pipe disappears into the wall. At first, you don’t see anything besides more concrete and moss, but as you get closer, you notice [[something strange.|Crack3]]]

=|= {(click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[There is something there.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[You can see just a sliver of rust-red light.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[And as you get closer, a breeze.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[Not a strong one, but just enough to make you realize.]} (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[Elijah was right.] =|= {(click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[You move closer.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[You're small.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[Very small.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[You can fit through that crack if you just squeeze...]} (click-goto:?page, "Flash") |==|

=|= {(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[There is something there.] (opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[You can see just a sliver of rust-red light.] (opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[And as you get closer, a breeze.] (opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[Not a strong one, but just enough to make you realize.]} (opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[Elijah was right.] =|= {(click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[You move closer.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[You're small.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[Very small.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[You can fit through that crack if you just squeeze...]} (click-goto:?page, "Flash") |==|

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(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[= (font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:3)[END] (text-size:0.8)[Do you want to know more about the City and its people? Stay tuned for //Icarus in Rust,// coming soon.]

=|= {(click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[There is something there.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[You can see just a sliver of rust-red light.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[And as you get closer, a breeze.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[Not a strong one, but just enough to make you realize.]} (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[Elijah was right.] =|= {(click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[You move closer.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[You're small.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[Small enough.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[You can fit through that crack if you just squeeze...]} (click-goto:?page, "Flash") |==|

=|= {(click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[There is something there.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[You can see just a sliver of rust-red light.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[And as you get closer, a breeze.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[Not a strong one, but just enough to make you realize.]} (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"<==")+(box:"XXXXX===")[Elijah was right.] =|= {(click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")+(if: $path is "C")[You move closer.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[You're small.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[Malnourished enough.] (click: ?page)+(t8n: "fade")+(opacity: 0.5)+(font: "Times New Roman")+(text-size:0.8)+(align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXX===")[You can fit through that crack if you just squeeze...]} (click-goto:?page, "Flash") |==|