Build your own adventure

[robinbloke]

You are standing outside a low stone building, there is a single door on this side that looks to be made of wood and metal. Behind you a trail winds back down the hill and away into the distance. It is approaching nightfall, the sun is tinging the sky and clouds pink with it's dying rays.
What do you do?

I will write you a "build your own adventure" style story if you leave a comment, just ask for a genre and give me a brief description of yourself and then say what you want to do, the rest will unfold...

Comments

[zenmeisterin.livejournal.com]

*It was all she could do to stop her jaw from tumbling open and staring in surprise at the Count Stagg's odd answer. For a moment, she was quite lost for words before finding her footing again.*

Ah. A surprise party... *She assumed partying for the sake of partying, maybe with a token excuse tacked on to ease any guilt the rich and famous might possibly have for merriment at all hours. 'Cynical? Moi?'*

*She smiled and found herself wondering how much of this was his humouring her, how much was her mis-hearing/seeing from alcohol/LSD/whatever and how much this was actually at face value. 'He seems genuine though...' And promptly excused herself to seek out some of this lovely food and to try and work out who was dressed as what, thinking erhaps that it would have been fun if she'd been dressed herself. The thought never once occurred to her that there might be anything downright dangerous about random strangers' parties.*

[robinbloke.livejournal.com]

The food. Oh the food.
Your mouth wants to worship you for finding this stuff, whatever it is. Small swirls of pasty wrapped in tiny little pieces of dusted sugar (are those actually individually shaped and drawn on the top, into constellations?). Little cocktail sausages that taste so rich they make your mouth water just looking at them. And the drinks, the fruit juice mix, whatever exactly is in there, is some kind of tropical riot on your tongue that makes your stomach cry out for you to swallow the second it touches your tongue.
Either Gorden Ramsey is working here or whoever made these is some kind of genius with food and was born with a chefs hat on their head.
People bow and bob around you, hats are tipped. The costumes and makeup are fantastical, however most of them look far too wonderous to be pure prosthetics (mouths don't go that wide, do they?) and someone surely can't tie their arm in a knot like that...

[zenmeisterin.livejournal.com]

*Rather engrossed in food-tasting and people-watching, Lizzie lost track of time rather. She was keen to sample as many different bits and peices as possible. 'This stuff is addictively good... Count can afford the best chefs no doubt. Wonder if they have to dress up for the party too?' She passed compliments on for the chefs before she remembered that some particularly self-obsessed high-class chefs actually find that offensive: as if their absolute best was mandatory and that their finest dish was nothing special and only to be expected... She shrugged to herself and ate some more.*

*She watched the performers and the detailed costumes and people's immaculate make up blend in with her acid trip and was throughly interested. This was FAR more fun and interesting than going out drinking with friends incognito, a discreet bodyguard never too far away. 'Come to think of it... Where *IS* he?' A brief flicker of hesitation came over her as she wondered if he knew where she was, if not then what kind of fuss would be in progress right now or if maybe he was here blending in already! She peered around at the faces to see if she could actually recognise any of them through the haze of trip, dreamy food and expensive attention to detail. The fact that the others seem to bow and tip their hats to her not even really sinking in.*

[robinbloke.livejournal.com]

Your task isn't exactly an easy one, spotting someone in the chaos of costume and unfamiliarity; it's also rather confusing, there is either a host of midgets here or a large number of children as well, which is a little worrying perhaps considering it's a party, they seem to be having fun however.

Still, noone is immediately obvious but wait... your gaze pauses on a extremely tall blue coloured gentleman. A pair of rams horns curling out of his forehead - not exactly immediately familiar, but his face however was, the eyes and that kink in his nose reminded you all too much of James, one of your regular safety-shadows. He notices immediately that you are looking at him and gives you a brief conspiritory smile before bowing to you.

[zenmeisterin.livejournal.com]

*She smiles and nods her head back almost without thinking. Then it hits her. Internally she is quite, quite surprised. 'It _seems_ to be James...' She wonders if he somehow knew about this all in advance... He seemed to be in costume and make up too and that must have taken far longer than the time she'd been here. Maybe the Count wasn't just being vague after all. Maybe this party had been planned with her presence in mind... Then she felt a bit guilty at the arrogance of the thought.*

*She was about to greet 'James' when she realised she didn't even know what time of day it was and hastily looked around for a clock as she sipped some more of this... 'whatever it is it's divine'.*

[robinbloke.livejournal.com]

Time is certainly a bit difficult to judge, with all the hubbub and bustle around you've quite lost track of it all. You spot a clock but it goes up to thirteen, and all the hands are moving in different directions - not helped by the fact the seconds hand comes out of the clock completely and back in again, in the third dimension.
The juice you're drinking is definately something tropical, although the hint of apples catches your mind. Strangely the more you think about one kind of flavour the more you can identify that fruit in the drink, if you think on another one you can taste that instead.