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(Why dont I take you up on your offer?

 

Temple Run, in its original embodiment, was a game symbolizing our lives; we reach towards riches, running away from fears and blind to dangers. Despite what we say to ourselves, we are simply comforting ourselves with the thought that what we are doing is 'for the greater good'. Coins in the game act as our false motivations, masking what we think as acts of unjust with fabricated nobility. We collect each coin, thinking of each as our pride and life, yet they are meaningless, merely weighing us down with the greed in our lives. The power-ups that we find floating above our heads are those that stand for you, protects you from the hardships from life, yet they cannot stop the inevitable end. Each unlockable character is a reminder of our personalities; never the same, yet all heading in the same direction. The creature, in fact, that chases you, may be your only salvation, as facing the truth of life is the only way to move on in the race we call 'life'.

 

I needed to practice anyways.)

Edited by Pecival

(Why dont I take you up on your offer?

 

Temple Run, in its original embodiment, was a game symbolizing our lives; we reach towards riches, running away from fears and blind to dangers. Despite what we say to ourselves, we are simply comforting ourselves with the thought that what we are doing is 'for the greater good'. Coins in the game act as our false motivations, masking what we think as acts of unjust with fabricated nobility. We collect each coin, thinking of each as our pride and life, yet they are meaningless, merely weighing us down with the greed in our lives. The power-ups that we find floating above our heads are those that stand for you, protects you from the hardships from life, yet they cannot stop the inevitable end. Each unlockable character is a reminder of our personalities; never the same, yet all heading in the same direction. The creature, in fact, that chases you, may be your only salvation, as facing the truth of life is the only way to move on in the race we call 'life'.

 

I needed to practice anyways.)

(Huh. You been reading in the Unleash the Beast roleplay?)

(How about I GIVE ya something to post about?)

 

(YOUR DEMISE!)

 

The group turns a corner, and literally smashes into a fleshy wall.  A bloodred slit in the flesh seems to be the only exit.  The insects buzzing grows louder as louder as the swarm bears down on them.

(Remind me to never look up something suggested by Pecival.)

 

The group struggles through the fleshy tunnel.  They feel like insects themselves, climbing through the rotting insides of some dead animal.  Behind them, the sound of a lawnmower chewing through flesh proved that the bugs had not given up chase. 

(Okay.

 

Name: Clarence Weddleton

Gender: Male

Age: 18

Appearance: Wearing small spectacles, this man is well dressed in a suit, a brown tuxedo, resembling the look of a detective. While his skin and complexion is fine, however, his clothes themselves are a different matter; the cloth at the ankles of his pants are slightly ripped, and his entire suit is dirtied by tar and grime. His hat, though, a short brimmed fedora, is in tidy condition, a far sight from his other garments.

Backstory: Curiosity can cause the mind to wander, and sometimes curiosity can cause people to wander where they aren't supposed to go. Such was the case of Clarence. He was a simple student, a good man, and a reliable friend in the day, when he was conversing with others. In the night, however, he lived a completely different life. While he was the perfect student in the day, he was a schemer at night, reading about methods forbidden to the common people's knowledge and a believer in ancient methods of magics and runes. (I feel lay today for some reason. Will be explained through conversations with Clarence.

Abilities: He is very weak, not very strong or powerful; his magical reserves aren't impressive either, but the true powers he have are contained in relics he have gathered. Stored in his rucksack, which in itself is an artifact, he has many objects of high power and order, though some are deceptively simple or deceptively complex; an example of this would include a simple wooden rod, no carvings, no obvious enchantments on it. When charged with purity or magic, say, from the absorption of an enemies' attack, the rod emits blue light, shooting from carvings that aren't visible to the naked eye.

Side-notes: Try not to ask him where he got the relics from; he would do so much as to hit you over the head with [REDACTED].

 

 

Damblit, too short.)

The group flees the tunnel, and not a moment too soon; the swarm bursts through the fleshy wall mere seconds after they get through the door.  Into the maze again, they run, dodging more traps without thinking and, at crossroads, blindly going by instinct.  They seem to be getting out of the torture area; the walls are cleaner, and there is less blood.  But that won't stop the relentless horde of insects...

The group's prayers are answered when they finally reach a large, wooden door.  They get behind it and slam it, bolting the lock and backing away.  They find themselves in a large circular room, most of which is a water-filled pool.  The group stands on a stone brick ledge ringing the pool.  It appears to be some kind of water supply.

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