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Mystery Guest
Bomb Productions

Day 1 (April 13)

The high tide swept splinters of faded pale wood onto the shore. There was an invasive and bitter breeze that one could taste, which whistled through the wreckage of a small boat. The tiny vessel was upturned, its front nose buried in the sand, jutting from the ground like a crooked gravestone. A gray flag waved from the other end, painted with some unknown emblem. Also on the shore was a little communicator device of some sort, its green screen made inactive by water damage. The boat rocked slightly, and a figure spilled over itself and onto the sand, as if the ocean breeze ejected it from its seat. Previously unconscious, the figure took some time to compose itself, get its footing, and dust some sand off its body. It faced the tiny boat, still firmly planted in the mud, and then faced seaward. Somewhere on the horizon, barely obscured by fog, was a megalith structure rising from the sea and sluggishly stretching toward the clouds that circled above its tallest haphazard towers. Its dilapidation was clear from any distance; many parts of it looked near to ruin and collapse. The figure, taking care in its observations, turned his back to the tide, a look like starting over sparkling in his eyes.

Happy Anniversary, everyone! Tucker will be setting up an AMA on the wiki at about 4 PM Pacific to answer questions pertaining to this presentation, and as to make up for lost time; details will be updated soon, so keep an eye out.

UPDATE: Tucker's AMA is live.

UPDATE: First chapter posted.

<center>Unten was unfortunately prone to finding himself in situations that were more complex than he could hope to understand and therefore completely out of his control. It had become almost reflex to let the strange and often cruel universe carry him into more and more uncertainty. It was, after all, a bigger universe than he had been inclined to believe until what felt like a very short time ago, and at this point he was quite certain his universe wasn't even the only one. These harrowing factors made navigation in his universe – and inevitably others that were completely alien to him - difficult and occasionally frustrating for Unten. However, in his resigned state, Unten chose to modestly refer to his typical game-plan for situations wherein he had no clue of his whereabouts in the Multiverse, and simply go with the wind.

Abandoning his boat with a reverent salute, Unten followed the salty breeze downshore, treading the sand with squat footprints in his wake. The tide was high and the sky desaturated and overcast, but the waves were calm. Seafoam would hit Unten's feet and provide a refreshing cool, and the torn remnant of where most of a scarf's tail used to be pointed in front of him, a guide to the wanderer. And Unten did wander, trekking forward for how long he could not tell. Finally, he made the decision to turn right back around toward the boat, having virtually nothing to lose but time, he figured.

As Unten backtracked, the sight of his tiny vessel grew out from the distance. When at last he did reach it, he gave the upturned boat another salute, as if it were a customary formal greeting, and then sat facing the tide. He looked as far and as deep as possible at the horizon, trying to identify any other clear mass of land. But alas, only the rickety towers were scarcely visible, neglected debris piled atop the flat ocean. Unten focused on the structure for several moments, until he felt something tap against his foot. He picked up a single bottle, washed up from the tide, smooth and green. There was a sheet of parchment neatly rolled up inside the flask, appearing wavy under the wet glass. Unten popped a damp cork from the bottle's lip and carefully shook the note loose, and it fell out in his palm. The message, uncovered, read

“To the blue one,

We have your friend.

She says come get her.

the folks on the ocean

P.S. She also says Happy Birthday.”

Unten looked at the oceanic structure again. He had to assume the message came from there; where else? As he fixed his eyes on the horizon once more, he felt something heavy wash up onto the shore and press against his feet. At first thinking it was something alive, Unten instantly recoiled backward and almost fell onto the sand. When he looked down, he found it wasn't alive at all. A white cake half-inside a plastic shopping bag was on the sand below him, soggy and falling apart in places due to the seawater; Unten was surprised it made the trip from its launching point still recognizable.

Unten ran a hand over his face and adjusted the remnant of his scarf, immediately resigned to the fact that he had a very long day ahead of him. He looked down at the cake, hesitated, and finally picked it up, slightly disgusted; it was impossibly heavy and retained the water inside of it like a sponge, and drops of white saturated with frosting rained from its flat bottom like a cloud. It began to fall apart in Unten's hands as he walked upshore, and at last he decided to drop it at his feet where he stood and resume his business. He walked down to the water again and washed his hands of the gooey frosting. Then, Unten eyed the communicator, which he had neglected for quite some time, and picked it up; he chuckled at the unlikely notion that the behemoth island would have some new batteries.

Then it was time to set sail. Unten, confronted with his very vertical boat, began to push it over. The nose of the vessel began to dig itself out of the sand as it fell onto its base again. Unten was surprised to discover that there was minimal damage to the boat, and nothing that would cause it to sink in the water. He tossed the device into the boat and ran around to the back to push it into the ocean, which proved to be relatively simple due to the calm waters. When he was about waist deep, Unten jumped into the boat. Though without oar or sail, the vessel seemed to drift slowly on toward its destination by itself. Its small gray flag waved valiantly in the breeze, as if a gesture of goodbye.

Day 2 (April 14)

Day 3 (April 15)

Day 4 (April 16)

Day 5 (April 17)

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