bravenewworld | I • Rampage of The Luggage

1. The Refuge Camp [Action]
[ Nestled deep in the refuge camp was a travel trunk. Like all travel trunks, it was both well-used and well-traveled. It was also asleep. A cacophony of sawing sounds rumbled through the tent flap, causing a passerby to sharply veer away. Rincewind stepped outside and stretched. He had a long day ahead of him. There were groceries to procure and clothes to reluctantly buy. He needed to get out of the camp and find an actual place to stay. The tent was all fine and dandy, but at the end of the day, it was on the breezy side and didn't offer leg room. He had to duck which meant his hat never stayed on his head when he had to stand. ]

[ No, he had to find a new residence. Somehow. But, food first. Rincewind picked a direction and strode. ]

[ The Luggage woke up. ]

2. The Residential District [Action]
[ Something was rocketing through the district. It was box-shaped. It was lost. The Luggage was looking for its master and its master wasn't here. At least, not anymore. It could tell that now, but the realization had dawned, passed through midday, and sunk back beneath the horizon of wooden indifference. The Luggage was doing something else. It knocked a trash can over. That, it decided, was fun! It knocked over another one and, because it could, trampled the spilled contents. An unsuspecting fungoos tried to flee the chaos, bounced, and found itself in a place that was square shaped, padded with folded clothes, and wooden. It would only be later that the unfortunate fungoos would realize it had been consumed by a box with teeth and ghostly legs. ]

[ The Luggage was here. ]

3. The Library [Action]
[ Libraries are quiet, this is a well-known fact spread throughout various cultures, times, and even dimensions. Libraries are always quiet...so why was this one... not? ]

[ The answer was trundling through the romance section like an elephant trying to tiptoe. Rows and rows of books fell like swooning women as The Luggage wade through countless aisles of squashy love stories. A few lucky specimens from the children's section had stolen a free ride atop the closed lid. Other, less fortunate fragments of literature presented themselves as loose pages plastered along The Luggage like tasteless bumper stickers. ]

4. Junes [Action]
[ It should be known that the natural pray of traveling cases are piles of neat, unsuspecting clothes, small dental kits shoved in baggies, and paperback books. It is the first item of this small list that has instigated the current display of utter chaos. Something evil had stomped its way through Junes. Evil, in this case, has a name: The Luggage. If a rude customer was a retail worker's worst nightmare, then The Luggage was a walking, box-shaped embodiment of retail hell: every phantom leg a potentiality of devastation. ]

[ Its current record consists of eight toppled shelves, scattered kitchenware (kettles, pots, spoons, and knives), a decimated door (it didn't stand a chance), and decapitating a mannequin. It was this very same mannequin that The Luggage now stood over, its head tumbling over the lip of the lid and cracking against the floor. The Luggage yawns, displaying several unmentionables caught between its teeth like colorful, breast-shaped broccoli. ]

5. A window of panic [Video]
[ The video flicks on to display an image of a man who's features might draw one's mind to recall the visage of a Rattata were it thirty-five years old, a flunked magus, and wore a hat that pronounced its inability to spell (in more ways than one). Rincewind looked harrowed. He gibbered, realized he was gibbering, and snapped his mouth shut. ]

[ He tried again ]

Er ... hallo. Has anyone seen my luggage? It ... er ... seems to have gone and wandered off.

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[ Its lid creaks open. Perhaps it was trying to say, "I am". It knocks another can over and, deciding here was a nice spot for an impromptu compost heap, began to strew the can's contents all over the ground as messily as possible. Unhindered, the Luggage will then proceed to break some ceramic pots that were laying around, uproot a fern, and trample a berry bush. ]

[See that other trash can there? The Luggage seems to have missed that one. It should probably- oh wait, Domri just gave it a swift kick so that it fell over directly in The Luggage's path. Now he's standing to the side with his arms crossed over his chest, confidently waiting to see how The Luggage responds.]

[ The Luggage operates on single-minded malevolence and it was having itself a proper rampage. The can, however, didn't roll on its own. After trampling it into flattened tin, The Luggage rotates and faces the source. It bares its many teeth. ]

[And Domri chucks a ball that some kid left lying around at it, aiming it so that The Luggage can catch it if it opens its mouth.]

[ It does indeed catch the ball. Caught between lip and lid, the Luggage makes a point to exert femur-crushing forces with a slow, tantalizing grind. The ball pops. It deflates with a sad sort of whizzing sound that could make children cry from miles away. The wooden chest creaks towards him with all the sinister malice of a semi-homicidal box on legs. ]

Krokt! What else...

[Ignoring The Luggage's sinister approach, he looks around, then moves to a corner. He grins again and waves The Luggage over, pointing around the corner.]

What can you do to that?

["That" being a bicycle someone has chained to a pipe.]

[ The Luggage stares at him. By this point people were usually shouting. They'd scramble to get out of its way and it would continue on its mindless way, destroying and trampling all that stood before it. An observer actively inviting its wrath and directing it like a focused point of light, was unfamiliar. ]

[ But what was the Luggage to care. More things to crush. More walls to blast through in its deviated search for its master. The box situated its many legs and redirected its momentum towards the unsuspecting bike. If the inanimate object could quake, it probably would. ]

[Congratulations, The Luggage, you've met the one person in Union who thinks you and the things you do are awesome and wants to see more of them.

Domri's practically vibrating in anticipation of the poor bicycle's immanent destruction.]

[ What is done to the bike cannot be described as the events that unfolded are beyond the limits of descriptive vocabulary. All we may assume is that it was something eldritch and it was evil. If bikes could scream, this one would've song the eighth song of the Sender of Eight. It would've freely given its cycle-shaped soul to the Eater of Souls, then thank it. ]

Krokt...

[Despite seeing that with his own eyes Domri couldn't even begin to describe it to someone else.]

That was...

Wrecked! You need to do that again! I'm Domri, what's your name? Come on! We need to find you more stuff to break!

[He's half-dancing half-jumping-up-and-down-in-excitement. He's also a Kindred Soul so he'll be able to understand The Luggage if it deigns to respond.]

[ The Luggage turns and stares at him. Either it chooses not to speak, or it doesn't possess the capability to do so. But it's not attacking him, so that's a good thing. It keenly hones in on "more stuff to break" and waits with all the patience of a piece of lumber. It'll have to look for its master ... eventually. It seemed being lost had its benefits. ]

[Domri takes off in a random direction, looking for anything interesting to sic The Luggage on. Because this will probably just turn into a repetitive thread where Domri finds something interesting and The Luggage destroys it over and over until it gets distracted passing the library or Junes we can probably stop here unless you want to continue.]

[ The Luggage will happily destroy all things its directed to maul, maim, or obliterate until it tires and resumes its search for Rincewind. ]

(( yes, we can end the thread :> ))

I • Rampage of The Luggage

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