April 8th, 1879. South Texas, CSA

It was the jolt that awoke it. Something about the sudden crash, the timbers of the box it had been stored in giving way, must have stirred the long dormant boiler furnace that powered the Thing. A spark ignites the ghost rock, the ghost rock burns, and life returns to the Thing's long dormant limbs.

The room it occupies is half-filled with boxes and crates of all sorts. Only half-filled, though...much of the space is empty floor. The wind whistles through the warehouse, and shutters slap against the wall semi-rhythmically. The wind carries a faint tune, the plunk of piano keys being played somewhere close by.

The remains of the crate crunch as the Thing moves to steady itself. What does it do now?

The thing looks about, then tilts its head to listen to the ever-present voice of God resounding in its brassy skull and heads towards the light and sound. It knows nothing, but it wants...something it can not quite grasp.

The light comes from a window. The shutter clatters in the wind. Outside, the setting sun colors the bottom of dark storm clouds a burning orange. A tumbleweed blows down the street as people hustle to get indoors. The music blows with the wind, coming from some building further up the street. There is a window in between the Thing and outside.

[[OOC: To open the window, roll Agility + Wild die, or a d4 and a d6. To smash the window open, roll strength + Wild die, or 2 d6. Whichever die rolls the highest is the one you go with. If you roll a 4 or higher, you've succeeded on what you're trying to do. There's a die roller program here: Link back to this game Remember to reroll the max. This will help you get used to the system]]

[[2 d6 to smash: 3,4 - thing smash.]]

It looks at its hand, then at the shards of glass. "..."

There's now nothing to stop Thing from crawling through the opening and going where it wills...

[[OOC: convention holds that unless the character requires input from the GM about something, you can continue to describe your actions. My job is mostly to react to what the players are doing, as well as describing the actions of the NPCs.]]

The thing brings itself into the outside world awkwardly, gracelessly. Finally brazen feet thud on the dusty ground. It looks at the sunset, then crouches and gathers a double-handful of broken glass, because something about the shards of light reminds it of Home. Bearing this before it like a bouquet, without a trace of selfconsciousness, the automaton whirrs and strides its way towards the music, murmuring soft static noises to itself.

If unaccosted it will locate the source of the sound, possibly walking into a few walls before it gets the hang of going around the building and finding a door. will present the nearest standing person with its bits of glass.

"self;object: angel. Object: sky, present verb: falling."


[[hey, there might've been a Neighbourhood Watch...]]