[ You find yourself in a section of the maze walled off by hedges sporting glowing magenta flowers. Several tree stumps with rich velvet cushions on them surround a much larger stump, upon which lie a number of cards... ]
For the next three to four hours, you cannot stop dwelling on the way your world must have ended, and you find yourself obsessing over how others' worlds ended as well. Apocalypse is never far from your mind.
But also, you know everything. Absolutely everything--or so you think. Information pours through your brain without stopping. Some of it is right, and some of it is completely wrong, and you have no way of telling what's what. ]
[ For the next three to four hours, every time you or someone near you feels the slightest hint of hope for anything, you feel compelled to rip it to pieces with cold, despairing logic--even if your takedown isn't actually very logical.
Also, you become convinced that your teammates are actually impostors wearing the faces of the team you know and care for. No amount of logic or reason can convince you otherwise.
Also also, delusions of grandeur plague you relentlessly. You should be in charge here; you are in charge here; why isn't anyone listening to you? You are mighty, a sun among mere stars!
I mean these effects will wax and wane amongst themselves so you're not completely overloaded, but it's still kind of a mess up there in that sexy pirate head.
But hey, everyone's transformations finally fully reverse themselves. Good going. ]
[This is alternately wonderful and terrible and of course she should be in charge this was her idea but damnit this was really not worth it especially since this was never actually her real team to begin with but also...]
CHOICE
Re: CHOICE
Re: CHOICE
Aren't you a greedy little lady?
[ And--
For the next three to four hours, you cannot stop dwelling on the way your world must have ended, and you find yourself obsessing over how others' worlds ended as well. Apocalypse is never far from your mind.
But also, you know everything. Absolutely everything--or so you think. Information pours through your brain without stopping. Some of it is right, and some of it is completely wrong, and you have no way of telling what's what. ]
Re: CHOICE
THIS WENT WEIRD PLACES]
Re: CHOICE
Re: CHOICE
[ For the next three to four hours, every time you or someone near you feels the slightest hint of hope for anything, you feel compelled to rip it to pieces with cold, despairing logic--even if your takedown isn't actually very logical.
Also, you become convinced that your teammates are actually impostors wearing the faces of the team you know and care for. No amount of logic or reason can convince you otherwise.
Also also, delusions of grandeur plague you relentlessly. You should be in charge here; you are in charge here; why isn't anyone listening to you? You are mighty, a sun among mere stars!
I mean these effects will wax and wane amongst themselves so you're not completely overloaded, but it's still kind of a mess up there in that sexy pirate head.
But hey, everyone's transformations finally fully reverse themselves. Good going. ]
Re: CHOICE
Balls.