Devils Marbles Conservation Reserve (Karlu Karlu) Northern Territory, Australia-January 01, 2012:

As the sun rose Simon rose to.
He had travelling a long way from Geraldston in Weston Australia to Devils Marbles in northern territory.
Why he had come here he could not be sure but like many of the places and nature reserves of this land Simon felt he just had to visit them.
He did not mind being alone in the outback.  Truth was it was good to be away from the small house his parents had left to him.   He got a deal with the local estate agent so the place was rented out.  That paid the bill on house.  He kept his room.  A place to return to if needed.
He could only stand being there a week before have to leave again.
To may bad memories and to many people.

As the sun came fully up Simon stood looking at the big round rocks.
It was out of season.  Just the type of time and place Simon liked.  Nobody around.  Just him and wilds.
He took bit out of a pie he had picked up from a farm some way back.
He done some work for the people in exchange for food.
Then he took a sip out of his water bottle.

He was now ready to face the day.

   Plants and animals found in the Reserve were generally similar to those Simon had seen in the arid center of Australia. Karlu Karlu's large clusters of rocks, however, created a variety of miniature refuges and cooler, more sheltered areas.  Attached to the underside of overhanging boulders, clusters of the bottle-shaped mud nests of Fairy Martins hung, safe from the rain and sun. Occasionally a small spiny-tailed Goanna peeked at Simon from the crevices or a much larger Sand Goanna eyed him from among the thick clumps of Spinifex sprouting between the boulders. A flock of finches peeped nearby as they rode the swaying branches of an old fig tree.
   January marks the beginning of the Monsoon season in Northern Australia and, sure enough, even as the sun rose in the sky, it revealed patches of grey-blue cumuli that spoke of rain to come.  It was warm and humid, in the mid seventies (Fahrenheit) and the going was slow amid the rugged red desert landscape.  The recent December rains had started to bring out places of green amid the usually barren rocks, and here and there small wildflowers were blooming.

   Then, by about mid morning, came the rain.  The sky above Simon opened up and poured down, a cascading torrent that darkened the land about him, so that he could barely see more than ten feet in front of him, the rest of the landscape becoming grey, indistinct shapes.   And there, to Simon's utter amazement, perched upon a tall boulder, was the figure of an old aborigine...

(A figure very much like this:)

http://marvel.com/universe/Gateway
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:10, Wed 11 Jan 2012.

Simon cleared the water from his eyes just to make sure he was seeing the man and not trick of light.
He then smiled to himself.  The natives of this land never sensed to amaze him.
The one thing he learn was they often wiser and kinder that other humans.

Slowly Simon pulls out one of his boomerangs.  Carved and decorated in native way.
He walk up to the man and places the boomerang gently down before the man using two hands.

He then steps back 5ft and sits looking at man.
He waits quietly to see if the man excepts his gift and is willing talk.  Or to guide him to some place without using speech.
Simon happy wait the whole day.  If by sunfall the man said nothing or does not move Simon will curl up and sleep.
Then see what next day brings.

   The old Aborigine sits for hours unmoving, seemingly content to meditate or dream, or whatever it is he is doing.  At last, as the setting sun paints the sky with amber and rose, and the rain has finally ceased, the old man's head ever so slightly inclines as he looks down upon the offering Simon has placed before him.  With hands calloused from many years of life in this harsh land, he takes the boomerang, and brings it up to examine it.  One long spindly finger traces the decorations carved carefully into the weapon.  A broad smile appears on the man's face, an expression of sheer delight at the beautiful boomerang.  It clearly pleases him.
   Behind Simon, he hears another voice, speaking in the language of the Aborigine's, and then in heavily accented English.  Clearly the speaker is a young boy, by the timber of his voice.  He walks around to face Simon, and is seen to be a boy of no more than twelve.  He is dusty and dressed in a pair of Levi's, and naked from the waist up, though his body sports many native tattoos.  His hair is a birdsnest of dark brown and his eyes are a lighter shade of brown.

   "Old man like your gift.  It good choice and make him happy.  He not speak, he never speak, but I hear him...in here."  He says tapping his forehead.  "And here," he adds, tapping his heart. Him say there is a great journey that you must make, and him willing to do his part.  Him say, remember this place, for him not know if you come back.  Him ask if you are ready now to go?"

Simon picks himself up and stands looking at the boy.
He talks to the boy but knows the old man understand all he say.
"I am honoured and please he like the gift.  I am also ready to go where the old man wishes or needs to send me."

Simon then turn slowly in full 360 degree taking in everything he sees.
"I will remember this place, the old man and his helper.  For where ever I travel in body or spirit this land will be my home and my heritage."

Simon stand up straight and look directly at the old man.
"I am ready sir."  He says.
Then he makes a quick look at the boy.
"Thank you."He says to the boy.
The Simon focus back on old man.  He relaxes and open his mind up to whatever going to happen next.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:00, Mon 16 Jan 2012.

   The old man nods his head, then unwinds a bullroarer from his left hip.  He gives it a twist and swings it vertically to his left side, the weighted wooden end making a distinctive 'roar' as it spins faster and faster.  The man smiles and somewhere a dingo howls its odd moaning cry.  As Simon and the young boy beside him watch, the bullroarer begins to glow along the wooden end, leaving a trail of fire behind it, that becomes an oval doorway through which some other place can be glimpsed.
   A wind whips up, blowing dust and debris and the boy shouts over the noise to Simon.  "Now!  Him say you go now, and always always remember.  Him say if you ever come back, him be here.  Him always been here, him always will be."

Simon looks at the old man.
"You are my doorway to other worlds.  You are my doorway home.  I all always remember you."

Simon stepped forward into the doorway.
A small thought races through his head.

So this was why I did not die.  When car was mangled reck.  Then blew up.
This why they found me beside the road some 100ft away with out a scratch on me.
They tried to make out I had been set down by my parents.
That I not been in car when lorry hit it.
That they said my parents had driven of into the lorry.
I Know the truth as does the lorry driver.
The lorry had hit the car.
Simoan had been in the car.
Simaon should been dead.
This was why he was live.

So with nothing to lose he steps into the doorway.

   Simon takes a last long look at the Outback that has been his home for a few years now.  The old man smiles, but says nothing as Simon courageously and confidently marches through the oddly created gateway.  A whirl of colours surround him.  Australia disappears from his view, dissolving like an early morning mist.

   Suddenly Simon finds himself someplace he's never seen before.  As he steps out into the light, he finds himself on the not so well tended grounds of a large, rather poorly maintained building.  There is a police car, parked outside of the broad oak doors, and out in the yard, a group of elderly folks are sitting in lawn chairs, wheel chairs, or standing in a circle,  along with several younger people who are apparently some sort of assistants, watching an animal show.  It is hard to tell, at first, precisely where he has ended up, until he sees a sign, half covered by the branches of an old elm tree.  The sign says:

BRANDON OAKS, RETIREMENT HOME

OOC:  You may now post in the Malcolm and Moonchild thread.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:50, Fri 20 Jan 2012.