adventuresinthespace

[adventuresinthespace]

Attention all 4 of my followers!

Let’s be honest I am not going to continue with this tumblr. It was fun and I really enjoyed it, but I actually compiled these little stories into a bigger piece of work and I simply didn’t want to write anymore of it. 

However, I do have a website which does still have current work on it, and I update it continuously. If you’d like to read my work on there please go to https://www.amurphyslawwriting.com/  .It includes the piece The Space was transformed into as well as other work!

I’m sorry that this is the end of this tumblr, but I can’t say I didn't have fun. 

[adventuresinthespace]

Space Battle

You have been in The Space for three weeks. 

It has been a quiet couple of days with no new arrivals, at least not in the section you and Angelo covered. There could be thousands of new arrivals and departures each day and you would have no idea, The Space seemed to be endless. A person could spend several weeks trying to walk from one end to the great hall to the other without ever reaching the other side. You had no desire to try this, but had watched with interest as Bocra, a large insectoid that wore sweeping robes of magenta, had set off on such a journey, only to return five days later looking exhausted and snapping at anyone who tried to ask how his walk was. 

It had you thinking though. Even though Bocra’s journey had been unsuccessful he had admitted to you that his legs had developed terrific. 

You approach Angelo, who is studying a chair that seemed to only be standing on two legs and looked mighty untrustworthy. 

“Angelo,” you say cautiously, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Not the most thrilling pastime.” He replies, still studying the chair. “Do you think this came from Forri? Number nine I mean. It looks like something the Fuela would come up with.”

“There’s an Ikea sticker, it’s from one of the Earths.” You point to a small sticker on the back. Angelo straightens up.

“Oh.” You take a large breath and look down at the floor. 

“I want to know how people get exercise here in The Space.” Your words come out in a rush, and Angelo finally turns to look at you. 

“Why in the name of The Space would you want to exercise?” He gestures around to the surrounding furniture. “These chairs are here for a reason, it is our duty as occupants to fulfil their purpose. Why would you want to offend whatever being or force created The Space by ignoring their gift of chairs by...by...jogging or whatever the hell you’re suggesting.” He raises an eyebrow in a challenging way, as if no one could possibly argue with that little speech. You fold your arms and fix him with your most superior glare. 

“Because it’s good for you Angelo. As much as you hate it, exercise is a necessary part of a relatively healthy lifestyle.” He snorts disbelievingly flexes his arms in an almost comical fashion. 

“I do not need exercise,” he says smugly, like he was an example of a perfect lifeform. You raise your eyebrows and try to hold back a laugh. 

“If you want to keep those then I suggest you do something other than lounging around all day.” You poke him in the abdomen making him jump, rubbing the spot looking wounded. 

“I do not lounge, I have a very important job to do.”

“We. We have a very important job to do.” 

“And we do it just fine don’t we?” You take another big breath, and furrow your brow at him. 

“Look, I hate exercise too. It sucks. It makes you sweaty, it hurts, no one wants to do exercise but we have to realistic. Exercise is good for you, simple as.” Angelo opens his mouth to argue but you plough on before he can interrupt. “I’m not saying we learn to do a four-minute mile, maybe just go for a walk or something. They can't sit around all day their muscles will turn to mush, and you’ll lose those killer biceps your so proud of.” You put your hand on your hips and look expectantly at him. He frowns, half offended, half confused. He absentmindedly massages the spot where you poked him, and mumbles under his breath. You hold back the long argument you had thought out in your head, silently waiting for his response. 

“How?” he mutters finally.

“Games,” you say, smiling.

“Games,” he repeats, nonplussed. You nod enthusiastically.

“Make it fun. We spend the day learning about each other’s cultures, right? Well, why don’t we teach each other about games from our worlds, the ones we played as children, or hatchlings, fledglings, whatever.” There seems to be a bubble building up inside your stomach, glowing as your ramble on about your plan. Angelo can see the childish glee in your face and he can’t help but smile in return. You both stand there, grinning at each other for a moment before Angelo nods his head. 

“Alright, but you have to clear the chairs out of the way.” You can't help it, you give a little hop of excitement. Angelo chuckles and turns to face the general crowd. 

“Listen up!” he calls, his deep voice causing many faces to turn toward him. “We’re gonna have some fun guys, little bit of exercise for you all!” There are a few interested mutters and a few exasperated groans. “If you don’t want to join in then bugger off somewhere else. If you have a game you used to play in your youth, then come over here and try to remember all the rules.”

Roughly fifteen minutes later, the many chairs and tables had been, pushed, stacked, and balanced on top of each other leaving a large rectangular area about the size of a basketball court. You stand in the centre with Angelo who has shed his jacket for the occasion. A majority of people had crept off to Havlo’s section, grumbling and shooting nasty looks back at the remaining group. Thirty or so stayed behind and are looking expectantly at the two of you. Suddenly this doesn't seem like such a good idea, and your face burns as you try to create a script in your head, repeating it over and over. Angelo nudges you with his elbow and nods toward the waiting group.

“Ummm.” You grip your hands together and look down at the floor, heat flooding your face.

“Right guys we’re going to play a game.” Angelo steps forward, shooting you a kind smile. You release all the air from your lungs, feeling the muscles in your shoulders relax. 

“What’s a game?” rumbles a centaur-like woman, her thick muscular legs ending in feet rather like an elephant’s. Her upper body arches back like a snake rearing to strike, she wears no fabrics and her skin is a dull chestnut all over. She only reaches your shoulder but there is a ferocity to her features that immediately makes you think “warrior race”. 

“A game, Krooka, is an activity one does for fun, like sports or something.” Says Angelo. She shakes her head, frowning. “I’ll give you an example. Who’s heard of tag?” A couple of humans raise their hands, you do a little half-hearted wave and then put both hands behind your back to stop them embarrassing you further. “Okay, for those of you who don’t know tag is a game from Earth, but I imagine some of you have played something similar just under a different name.” Everyone is watching Angelo, some curious, some confused. “The aim of the game is to avoid being caught.” 

“By who?” pipes up a pixyish creature hovering above the heads of everyone else. 

“I’m getting to that.” Angelo waves his hand dismissively. “One person is the group is It-” 

“Their what?” interrupts Krooka.

“Just It.”

“This is a very strange custom.”  Angelo closes his eyes, as if searching for patience. 

“One person is It,” he repeats “and that person has to try and get someone else. As soon as they’ve done that then the person they’ve caught becomes It and has to catch someone else.”

“And then what?” says someone in the back. Angelo shrugs, his hands held up in an ‘I don’t know’ sort of gesture. 

“You keep going until you get bored.” There’s a few mutterings at this, most of them sound unconvinced. You glance at Angelo nervously; his hands and eyebrows are still raised. “Sooo, who wants to play?” You scan the faces of the group, no one looks impressed. You clear your throat and lean toward Angelo.

“Maybe a different game?”

“What do you suggest?”

You shrug, and his face falls into exasperated lines. You run through all the games you used to play as a child, trying to remember one that would be simple enough for these strangers to grasp but interesting enough that they would not look disdainfully on your simple human ways. 

“Dodgeball?” You suggest quietly.

“And what are we going to use as projectiles?”

“Oh.” You look down at the floor again. 

“Projectiles?” asks Krooka. She turns and reaches into what appears to be something like saddlebags slung over her sloping back. She pulls out several spherical objects that look an awful lot like-

“Are those grenades?” asks Angelo, leaning back.

“Yes,” answers Krooka, her tone matter of fact.

“Krooka, no.” Your voice is stunned and comes out merely more than a whisper. Everyone else is staring at her in horrified silence. Krooka looks around in bewilderment. 

“I’ve  deactivated them,” she says “Look.” and she hurls one at the floor. Everyone leaps backward, some stumble and fall. Angelo grabs you by the upper arms and yanks you back nearly pulling you off your feet. You feel the air whoosh from your lungs as your back slams into his chest. Nothing happens. The grenade bounces harmlessly off the concrete and rolls to a stop at Krooka’s front feet. She grins smugly and crosses her arms. “Told you, they’re perfectly fine.” She crouches down and picks up the grenade. 

“Huh,” says Angelo, you feel the sound in his chest, he’s still holding you tightly. 

“Um, Angelo.” He looks at you and you nod at his hands on your arms.

“Oh.” He lets go quickly “Okay, so, um, let’s use them then.” He mumbles.

Angelo clears his on throat loudly and proceeds to explain the rules of dodgeball to the group, all of whom are still glancing at Krooka nervously. 

“So it’s like battle, yes?” She asks. 

“Yes,” Angelo sighs, “Yes, Krooka it’s exactly like battle but please don’t kill anyone.”

“Nonsense,” snorts Krooka, “No, harm shall come to allies of mine.” She walks off pulling out more deactivated grenades. 

“Right,” you say, then pause, turning to Angelo “We’re all her allies right? Not just her team.” Angelo goes very still, his eyes widening slightly. You call after Krooka “We’re all your allies right?!” She doesn’t answer and everyone has already started moving into place. 

Everyone seems to agree that throwing things at each other sounds much more fun than chasing each other around, and everyone wants Krooka on their team. Luckily someone in the group has the ability to produce ink and before you know it a court has appeared before you, and each team is handling the grenades with unease. You stand next to Angelo nervously.

“Alright, are we ready?” Angelo called only to narrowly avoid being hit full in the face with a grenade. A roar of laughter rose up from the opposing team. You see the shocked and slightly offended look on Angelo’s face and promptly hurl your own grenade back at them. Chaos erupts.

The next few hours are spent running, screaming, and cursing in numerous languages. Your face hurts from grinning like a lunatic and your heart is pounding adrenalin all the way through to your fingertips. It is agreed that there should be a battle every week.

Thanks for reading the next instalment of The Space. I’m sorry for the long time it takes for me to post these. I hope you enjoyed reading this instalment and I’ll try to post the next one as soon as I can. In the next instalment I hope to address some things that I've noticed as I've been writing, like how can they all understand each other? Surely, if everyone is from different worlds then they must speak different languages. I know there are even more questions, is there a place to wash? exactly how big is The Space? I want to address these in the future, so keep reading if you want to know the answers!

Thank you, again!

[adventuresinthespace]

Sleepover

You have been in The Space for eleven days. You and Angelo have become a team, ever since your conversation with the knight he had insisted you had a natural talent with the newcomers and had recruited you to assist him. The knight had eventually plucked up the courage to explore his new surroundings, even talking to a few people here and there, clanking anxiously all the while. 

There had been only two new arrivals since then, a catlike woman with violet fur who had been quickly introduced to Kuvasz, and a rather bemused looking man with eight legs, a tail, and a pair of reddish vestigial wings who had vanished back to his own world within the hour.

That didn’t stop Angelo finding things for you to do though. You and he had had to check in on everyone that had arrived within the last month or so, and it took a long time to find them in the crowd, especially based on Angelo’s vague descriptions of what they looked like. It had taken all day to track them all down and have the same conversation with every one of them, asking them of they were alright and if they wanted to talk about anything, the answers were always yes to the former and no to the latter. It was dull work but Angelo seemed to revel in it, bouncing about with that big grin on his face. You, on the other hand, were quite happy to relax at the end of the day and settle down for as much sleep as you could get with all the nocturnal people waking up for the night. 

When the time came for people to sleep, the many different lights affixed to the walls would flicker and dim. The chairs and tables would vanish to be replaced by mattresses, futons, hammocks, nests of twigs and cloth, and a few from other worlds that you don’t even have a name for. 

You find a double bed, wooden frame and everything, and grin to yourself. Entire beds were rare, you are very, very lucky and jump onto it before anyone else has a chance to steal it from you. It’s luxuriously soft, and you sigh contentedly as your head hits the pillow. You feel almost as of you’re sinking into it, becoming one with the mattress. Your eyes begin to flutter close when Angelo emerges from the maze of furniture and hops onto the covers beside you. 

“Good find friend.” He settles onto his back and puts his hands behind his head, stretching his body almost the full length of the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows and look down at him, face as stony as you can make it.

“I got it first,” your voice sounds whiny and childlike, but nevertheless it was true.

“Indeed, and lucky you did or I would have to kip in one of those dog beds again.” He grins mischievously, you remain unamused.

“We are not sharing.”

“Why?” His question throws you for a moment, and it must show on your face because he grins even wider. You blink for a few seconds before answering.

“Because.”

“Because what?”

“Just because.”

“Because what?” 

“Stop asking questions.” He’s messing with you and you know it. You give himi a little push that threatens to send him off the edge. He sits up bringing his face close to yours.

“That was rude.” He pouts and crosses his arms in mock upset.

“So is stealing someone else’s bed,” you say, refusing to lean back from his sudden closeness. 

“Don’t friends share?”

“The last slice of pizza, yeah, not beds.”

“Why not?” He seems to be enjoying himself and you feel a prickle of irritation run up your spine. 

“Because,” you say through gritted teeth, “It's very...intimate, isn’t it?” he raises his eyebrows at you. 

“What's wrong with intimate? We’re good friends, aren’t we?” He seems genuinely confused now and there is an edge to his voice that means you’re very close to hurting his feelings. 

“Yeah, we are, but not sleep together friends.” At this he stares at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. You amend yourself, “You know what I mean Angelo, don’t twist my words.” You point a finger threateningly at him, He holds up his hands in surrender. 

“You’re the one who said it.” Both of you fall silent, you frowning, Angelo still smiling though not as widely as before. He seem surprised by the turn of the conversation. After a minute or so of silence he says, “Look, it's a big bed. You’ll have your side, I’ll have mine, we don’t have to spoon if you don’t want to.” You give him a withering look, his impish smile is back in place. 

“Why can't you get your own?”

“We’re a team now, if The Space suddenly collapses in one itself or a fight breaks out over who gets the last massage chair, because you know that werewolf guy has been getting really angsty about that, we have to deal with it. So, it’s best if we’re together so we can act as quickly as possible.” He holds his arms up, triumphant, clearly he thinks there is no arguing against his little speech. You have to admit, nothing comes to mind. Your mouth opens and closes, fishlike, but all that escapes your lips is a huff of annoyance. You turn away from him and shuffle under the covers, pulling them up to your chin, defeated. Angelo once again reclines and relaxes. “Also Chvri has a crush on you and is looking for any excuse to slide into bed with you.” You sit bolt upright and stare at him, eyes wide.

“Chvri. Clockwork wings, five eyes, makes clicking noises when she speaks?”

“The very same. I thought I would protect you from her attentions.”

“How very gallant of you.” Your voice drips sarcasm. 

“I mean if you’d rather share a bed with her I can..” He moves to get up.

“No!” you say quickly, a little too quickly perhaps because his smile is back. He’s been playing this game a lot longer than you. 

The lights around the wall have been getting dimmer as you and Angelo have been talking and now you can see the Arimian Flamebacks, similar to earthly fireflies, fluttering here and there over the occupants of The Space, slowly slipping into slumber.

“So, it’s decided,” says Angelo and you see him turn to see him closing his eyes in the gloom. “Goodnight.”

You can’t think of a response so you just lie there glowering at his feigned sleep. You cast your eyes around warily, searching for a glint of clockwork and the glimmer of many eyes. If Angelo was right then Chvri could be nearby, and though you though her nice enough you also found her a little unnerving. You bury yourself under the covers once again, your back pressed against Angelo’s side. Your eyes droop and your mind wanders, all around you are the sounds of much deep, slow breathing, a few rumbling snores, and the soft sound of something ticking.

This is the fifth instalment of The Space and yes I know it’s been almost months since I posted the last one, but lets be honest no one reads these (except you Apple, you’re the reason I’m posting again) I mostly do it for myself. I’ve been trying to answer some question about The Space and how it works in these stories, where does the food come from? where do they sleep? etc. I know there are more questions to be answered, what about clothes? do they just stay in what they arrive in for as long as they are there? Well I’ll try to answer those in due course. Thanks for reading! (if there is indeed anyone out there who is reading these)

[adventuresinthespace]

The Knight

You’ve been in The Space for a week.

“Is he still there?” You ask Angelo as he throws himself into a purple vinyl chair that looked like it had come from a reception area. He glowers at you in response and you can’t help but smile at his annoyance. Someone new had arrived in The Space last night and Angelo had been quick to try and make friends. It seems Angelo saw it as a personal responsibility to greet everyone from the antique section where you had arrived to the small area  filled with plastic children’s furniture. Beyond that was Havlo’s sector, seven-feet-tall with rhino like skin and build Havlo was at heart a people person. He and Angelo had argued over whose territory the newcomer had fallen into and you had watched the drama with shameful glee. Angelo’s victory had quickly become a regret, the newcomer had refused to talk to anyone and had sat staring at the wall ever since he had regained consciousness. Angelo had been growing increasingly irritated with each attempted, and failed, conversation.

Angelo crosses his arms and pouts for a moment before turning to face you.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say through a grin. He glowers again and flips you off making you snort with laughter. “Why not let Havlo try?” 

“No,” he snaps “I will get him to talk or move or do anything. He can’t just sit there forever.”

“Do you know why he’s decided to have a staring contest with the wall?”

“I think he’s just waiting to get pulled back into his world.” Angelo mumbles, frowning at some dirt under his fingernails as he does so. “Not that that works. He won’t even talk. Probably thinks this is hell and we’re all demons trying to trick him or something.” He raises his eyebrows “Goodness knows that’s happened before.”

“Just because he’s wearing armour doesn’t mean he’s an actual knight from 1642 or whatever, maybe that’s just what they wear in his world.” The clanking metal had caused quite the stir, as well as the faceless helmet behind which no one knew what. He did appear to be a medieval knight but if there was anything your time in The Space had taught you, it was never to assume. 

“Well if he would talk to me I would know wouldn’t I,” says Angelo sulkily.

“He’s probably scared, and this is just how he deals with it.” Your voice is soft and soothing now, Angelo had grown used to everyone liking him and this was a painful change.

“Why don’t you try and talk to him then?!” Angelo throws up his arms in frustration, and kicks the leg of a glass coffee table in front of him.

“I haven’t been here as long,” you reply calmly, “ Speaking of, you said I would be here a couple of days, it’s been a week.”

“Sometimes it takes longer,” he growls “but you’ll pop back eventually, don’t panic.” 

“I see.” You don’t mind that this has turned into an extended stay, you’ve grown quite comfortable here and returning to your shitstorm of a world didn’t exactly consume your thoughts every hour of the day like it used to. Angelo leans forward and puts his head in his hands, he looks tired and you can’t help but feel a pang of pity for him. You reach over and pat him on the back. He groans into his palms as you comfort him. He lifts his head, eyelids drooping. 

“I think I’ll go lie down for a bit.” You nod in agreement and he slowly gets to his feet, swaying slightly before tottering off in search of a reclining chair.

You’re left to ponder Angelo’s words. True you didn’t have as much experience as him but maybe that was a good thing. What was stopping you from talking to the new guy? The Space has done wonders for your confidence, having nothing to do here but talk to other people. You had even engaged in an arm wrestle with a many-limbed creature in an orange jumpsuit, and emerged victorious. You pushed yourself out of your chair and stretch toward the indiscernible ceiling. 

You knew the knight was sat close to the border of Angelo and Havlo’s territory but no more than that. You wander between the tables and chairs for about ten minutes, sliding between people’s conversations. You see him sat on the cold grey floor staring at an equally blank grey wall. You know it’s a he because the chest plate is flatter than a female’s armour would be and there is as small piece of metal guarding his groin, giving a big clue as to what was under there. His armour is a dull silver, scratched and dented in places and with no visible decoration. He looks very functional but incredibly uncomfortable. He hasn’t even taken off his helmet, the dark slit for his eyes giving nothing away. You wind your way over to him, dodging a couple of six legged dogs as they argue intensely about the price of Trangar oil.

You settle yourself beside the knight, crossing your legs in front of you. He does not acknowledge your presence but continues to stare at the wall. You cast your eyes over him, taking in the battered metal and his rigid position. 

“Hi,” It’s a lousy attempt but you can think of nothing else. He still does not speak, you let slip a little sigh before you too stare at the blank stretch of wall. You and the knight sit in silence for about fifteen minutes. The cold floor bites into your backside and you can’t help but fidget on occasion, but you continue to stare at the wall trying to see what the knight found so alluring. Finding, you break the silence.

“Staring at this wall won’t get you back y’know.” You turn to look at him once more, he doesn’t react to your voice. You begin to wonder if maybe he’s deaf. There is a bit of lint on the floor, you pick it up and begin to tear it apart and squash it back together again. “It’s not so bad here, there’s good food, good company. Angelo wants to help you.” Still, he says nothing “I’ve only been here a week and-”

“You have been corrupted.” His voice is deep and smooth, it seems to echo even though he barely whispers the words. For a moment you're completely floored, and you sit there mouth agape, staring at the knight. After a moment, you recover yourself and stammer out a response.

“Excuse me?” His helmeted head turns ever so slightly toward you.

“This place, these creatures, they have corrupted you.” You frown at him, still fiddling with the piece of lint. 

“How so?” He seems reluctant to say more, but he hasn’t spoken to anyone else and your keen to keep the conversation going. You raise your eyebrows at him and give him your best expectant look. 

“If you eat their food you cannot leave. If you dance with them you will never stop. If you are not careful in speech, they will enslave you without you knowing it. They are tricksters, do not trust anything they say.” You are stunned by this dire warning, and you feel a laugh bubbling up inside you. The smile that creeps onto your face seems to stun him in return and he leans back as if appraising you. 

“You think they’re faeries.” You say it as a statement not as a question. Now you understand, he isn’t being rude or foolish, he is afraid and taking precautions to keep himself safe. Smart man. 

“If you’ve only been here a week then you can try to escape, come with me but...” he trails off into a thoughtful silence. You can’t help but feel surprise trickling through you. This person did not know you and had just revealed he thought you corrupted and yet he was offering to, at least in his mind, save you from a seemingly terrible fate. He was asking you to come with him back to his world, a complete stranger. 

“Thank you but...I’m in no danger here,” you say cautiously “These people, they aren’t faeries. They’re people just like you.” He turns to look at you and you can almost sense the look of disbelief on his hidden face. “I know, I know, they must look like monsters to you but honestly, they’re just people...just people.” You gesture to the crowds around you in a hopeful manner. He gives you a derisive snort which sounds odd inside the helmet and returns to staring at the wall. You feel your shoulders slump but a nugget of determination wiggles through your gut. You take a deep breath and start to speak in a low, imploring voice, “The universe is an extraordinary place; The Space, and everyone in it, is just a part of all the things we don’t know yet. We all ended up here in one way or another so we’re all the same in that respect. We’re just trying to help each other the best we can, no matter how different we look, talk, act. No matter the distance between our worlds, we’re here together and we have to make the best of that.” You marvel at how grand you sound, it was quite the speech and maybe, just maybe, enough to sway the knight’s decision. 

He is still looking at the wall, but there is something different in the way he sits, a little defeated somehow.

“How can I trust you?” His voice shakes slightly, you think he might possibly be crying. You shrug and get to your feet, grunting as your stiff muscles stretch. “There’s nothing else to do.” He looks up at you, his armour creaking as he shifts. You give him a small smile and walk away. To your surprise, Angelo is stood there staring at you a look of incredulity on his face. He stammers and points to the knight who is now looking down at his lap.

“How...how did you...I...” You grin sheepishly and pat him on the shoulder. 

“Don’t worry Angelo, you’ll get the next one.”

He faces you and looks you up and down appraisingly, still lost for words. You give his shoulder another squeeze and make your way back through the crowd, a glowing feeling in your chest. You hear Angelo behind you, clearly shouting in exasperation at your retreating back.

“Fuck off!”

Hello and thank you for reading the next instalment of The Space. I know there has been a big gap between this one and the last I’ve been fairly busy. I’ll try and get back on top of these and post a new one in a couple of weeks. The next one will be entitled Sleepover, and in that one you’ll be getting a little bit closer to Angelo and we’ll learn a  bit more about how The Space operates. Thank you again for reading!

[adventuresinthespace]

Selkie

You’ve been in The Space for four days. As odd as life is here you’ve grown used to it. Talking with other people who seem just as lost as you are and hanging out with Angelo who seems to have taken a particular liking to you.

You’re sitting in an old armchair, it’s scarlet colour fading and its stuffing squeezing out through the tired seams. There had been an influx of food you recognised as definitely from Earth arriving at the buffet tables, curtesy of Elsie who you had gone back to talk to many times. Angelo had accused you if flirting to get treats from her but truthfully you just like her company, and the continued supply of Gushir which Elsie always made available. You have gathered quite a feast for yourself and carefully snuck off to enjoy it in one of the rare quieter areas of The Space. You are just about to bite into one of the pastries The Triplets had served that day when you notice a girl staring at you. She is a good twenty metres away, and everyone seems to be giving her a wide berth. Her face is pale and slightly sallow, framed by long raven black hair that falls in strange feathery strands and drifts in a non-existent breeze. Her eyes are dark, slightly too big for her face, which seems rather flat, and from this distance you cannot tell what colour they are but they are wide and fixed determinately on you. She sways slightly on her seat, a long bench joined with an even longer table that looked positively medieval, and she traced circles into the wood with a long finger that has four joints instead of three. You look away, you’re a little freaked out and you try to continue eating, ignoring the girl’s gaze. It proves to be very difficult, you keep glancing at her out of the corner of your eye. it goes on like this for another ten minutes, you trying and failing to eat comfortably and her unmoving and focused. You’re just about to get up and leave when Angelo finds you.

“You hiding from me?” He swings himself around the tables and chairs, throwing himself onto an office chair beside you. He goes spinning out of sight for a second as the wheels of the chair squeal in protest. He shuffles himself back into view grinning broadly, a laugh on the edge of his lips.  You smile back at him. He snatches an apple off your pile of food and takes a massive bite out of it. “Can’t blame you,” he says, his voice muffled by his chewing, “with this hoard to hide.”

“It’s not a hoard, I’m just hungry today,” you answer a little defensively.

“There is no way you’re going to eat all of this.” He gestures toward spread of food.

“Watch me.” You reply, taking a large bite out of a pastry.

He raises his eyebrows at you and puts his hands up in a placating way. Once again you see the girl staring at you out of the corner of your eye. A wave of annoyance passes through you, so you decide to stare back in challenge. Angelo follows your glare and spots the girl who still hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Oh, that’s just Selkie,” he says offhandedly, returning to his stolen apple. You gulp down your mouthful without breaking eye contact with her.

“Who?”

“She’s one of the few that have been here a loooong time.” He draws out the o of the long to show when he says long he means longer than what you had been led to believe was the average.

“I thought you said people get back after a few days.” There is a note of panic in your voice, you may have gotten used to life here but you had no intention of staying forever. 

“Most do,” he takes another bite, “Some don’t.” he shrugs at you. “Selkie has been here about six months now.” Your eyes go wide and turn to stare at Angelo in horror.

“Six months?” you say this more to yourself than to him, but he nods anyway. “Why is she staring at me though?”

“She does that sometimes.” He is uninterested, eyeing the handful of chocolate bars you had placed on a side table.

“What’s her problem?”

“Oh, she’s insane.” His voice is so nonchalant that for a second you don’t quite register what he says.

“I beg your pardon.” The panic has returned to your voice, and suddenly the girl’s gaze seems  a lot more sinister. You take a nervous sip from a bottle of water. 

“Yeah, she lost it about two weeks after arriving.” He nods to himself. “She was perfectly normal when she turned up. Well, as normal as one gets here, and she’s a shapeshifter.” You choke on your drink.

“A what?”

“Shapeshifter. Quite a good one too.” His voice is a little sad, as if he is remembering a friend he lost long ago. “We never had one of those before and everyone wanted to see her change into their favourite animal and stuff. She had a great time shifting for people, like the attention I suppose.” Angelo looks over at Selkie again. She has finally stopped staring at you turning to Angelo instead, he gives her a little wave. “But after a while people lost interest, and she was getting lonely. Have you ever heard of a mantis shrimp?” It is such an odd question that it takes you by surprise and you can’t answer straight away. 

“Um, it sounds vaguely familiar.” You weren’t sure where you knew it from but it must have been an animal from Earth, your one at least.

“They’re sea creatures, related to lobsters and crabs. They have incredible eyes, sixteen photoreceptors compared to most people’s three. There are a couple of people here who have four, maybe five, but nothing close to a mantis shrimp.” He continues munching on the apple but his voice is quiet and his tone serious. “They can see things we can’t ever imagine, explosions of colour we don’t even have names for. Selkie thought it would be entertaining to shift into one and see those colours for herself.” You listen intently, fascinated by the story.

“Did it work? Did she see them?” He nods solemnly.

“We don’t know what she saw but it drove her mad.” You look back to Selkie, she’s staring at her fingers now, still tracing circles. You feel your gut twist with sympathy. “She turned back after a couple of minutes and she tried to tell us, but there were no words. You try and think of a new colour and then describe it.” You try even though you know you can’t, it blows your mind for a bit. Angelo sees the look of intense confusion  on your face.

“Exactly,” he says. He tosses his apple core aside, a tiny little creature covered in black bristles and bits of lint leaped from under a purple ottoman and swallows it whole before scuttling off. “Imagine having that feeling all the time. She kept turning back but it only made things worse, her mind couldn’t cope and…well…” His kind brown eyes are full of tears, and your glad you weren’t there to witness Selkie’s slow descent into madness over the rainbow no one else could see. He looks up, “Hi Selkie.”

You turn around so fast you crack your neck. Selkie has walked over without making a single sound, like a ghost. Now that she is standing you see that she is wearing a thin white garment almost like a night dress, ending just above the knees of spindly legs that looked rather like a deer’s only they end in webbed feet rather than hooves. She seems surprised to be standing there and her eyes search for something but you can’t tell what,  her whole being appears uprooted, lost.

“Hi,” you say quietly. She turns those dark eyes on you and you can finally see that they’re the deepest shade of blue, the kind found in the depths of the ocean. You see her pupils and your heart stops for a moment. They are vertical and thinner than a lizard’s, they are eerie and brimming with silent emotion.

“You know your hair it’s…it’s…” her voice is soft and distant as if speaking from far away. You glance nervously at Angelo but he says nothing. You follow his lead and stay silent. “I’ve seen it before…like… the penultimate centre of a cracked black diamond where the light runs through…underground jungles made of dust and fossil bones or maybe shells… damp and dry…halfway…no, not quite…” she trails off again frowning to herself. Without warning she starts screaming at the top of her lungs, “I’VE SEEN IT BEFORE I SWEAR!” several people turn around and stare. “IT’S NEXT TO GREEN BUT IT’S NOT GREEN. IT’S NOT GREEN AT ALL BUT IT’S IN PLANTS AND PLANTS ARE GREEN BUT NOT QUITE…AND…and,” her breathing is shallow and her expression is panicked. You don’t know what to do so you just sit there, mouth hanging slightly open.

“It’s alright Selkie, we understand.” It’s Angelo, he reaches out a hand to her and she grasps it like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. Her face is full of hope.

“You do?” she mumbles, and he nods. She sways on the spot, pushed by an invisible wind.

“Sit down Selk.” Angelo says softly pulling the ottoman closer and pushing her gently down onto it. Your still a little lost, your heart full of sadness, and you do the first thing you can think of. Taking a chocolate bar from the side table you offer it to her. Angelo looks at you in surprise, for a moment you fear you’ve made a terrible blunder but Selkie gently takes it from you a small smile on her thin lips. She says nothing as she eats, Angelo chuckles softly and snatches up a cake. All three of you sit in silence, working your way through the mountain of food. 

Thanks for reading this instalment of The Space. This is our first introduction to an inhabitant of The Space that isn’t human. Selkie is a particularly talented member of a race of shapeshifters. She is able to turn into any animal at will (with a little bit of work) whereas other members of her species have a limit to the number or can only turn into animals from a certain genus. We will see more of her in later instalments and meet some other species too. The next story will be titled The Knight and you will be taking some more direct action with a newcomer. Once again thanks for reading!

[adventuresinthespace]

Parallels

You’ve been in The Space for two days. It’s not the most ideal situation to be stuck in but you think you’ve adjusted quite well. Mere minutes after your arrival Angelo had showed you around, not that there was much to see except tables and chairs. The moment you had mentioned you were kind of hungry Angelo had dragged you for what seemed like half a mile to the so called cafeteria area which wasn’t really a cafeteria at all but part of the Space that seemed to have an unusual number of picnic tables. The food was laid out buffet style on several tables put end to end and covered in various cloths. You recognise only a handful of items being served by people who appear to be cooks of some kind, moving constantly through occasional bursts of steam.

“Who are they?” you ask, careful not to stare openly at one of them. They are tall with soft lavender fur, long twitchy ears and a cat-like face with a snout.

“The triplets,” he says offhandedly grabbing a plate and a couple of bread rolls. You look back to the people behind the tables. Beside the purple cat person there is a many limbed creature that looks like a crab crawled out of its armour rearranging empty plates and new ones, and one that seems to be a human woman, though you are uncertain. If these people are from everywhere she could be a vampire or something, in any case she certainly didn’t look related to the other two.

“Huh?” You cringe at how clueless you sound. Angelo sees your confusion and gives you another lopsided smile. 

“You’re right, they’re not actually siblings.” He tears into one of the rolls, “But they don't seem to mind it,” he says. “They’re never apart for more than an hour or more.” He’s talking more to himself than to you now, as if he were trying to remember every occasion he’s seen the triplets. You look at them again, the woman is bringing up a new dish from underneath the table. It’s something with blue tentacles covered in a bubbling golden sauce. The tentacles make you recoil slightly, but then you catch a whiff of its scent and your mouth waters. Angelo thrusts a plate into your hands and nods toward the dish encouragingly. There are many others huddled around the food, jostling you slightly and causing your face to heat as you step onto several feet. When you reach the seemingly-human-lady she smiles kindly at you. You don’t see any fangs. She is fairly short and plump with fine chocolate brown hair tied back in a bun. She has full lips but small grey eyes set over rosy cheeks that hold a broad nose between them. You return with an awkward smile of your own before staring fixedly at the tentacle soup.

“Want some?” The woman asks, picking up a ladle.

“Umm...” you mumble. Why are you this nervous? It’s not like she was asking you to reveal your deepest, most darkest thoughts, she just wanted to know if you wanted some weird soup stuff from another world.

“It’s alright,” she says “A lot of people get a bit scared being here.” She smiles warmly, and gestures once again toward the ladle. You take a big gulp of air.

“Um, what is it?” You sniff again, it’s heavenly but that doesn’t mean you trust it. 

“Gushir. It’s a kind of sea creature from the Frijjor region of Sunka. The sauce is a local creation of theirs, I have to buy it instead of make my own because they won’t tell me what’s in it. It’s possible that they’re using something illegal but it tastes good.” That’s a lot of information to take in, and you have no idea where she’s talking about. She sees the lost look on your face and takes matters into her own hands, spooning a few of the tentacles onto your plate and handing you a fork with five tongs. “Try it.” She nods enthusiastically. You carefully pick up a mouthful, reassuring yourself that it can’t be that bad because other people in the Space must have eaten it, besides you don’t want to insult one of the triplets, they seem to be the only source of food in the place. You close your eyes as you take a bite. It’s...odd, but delicious. It’s tangy, and sharp. The sauce is creamy and sweet but with a hint of something peppery. You open your eyes again and the woman is looking at you like a proud mother. She holds out a hand, “I’m Elsie, of Earth number 36″

“Earth?” you ask taking her hand and balancing your plate on the other.

“Number 36,” she confirms. You frown and take another bite of Gushir, listening to Elsie as she explains.

“I’m sure Angelo,” she glances over at him with a fond expression on her face, “has told you that everyone here comes from different worlds. That means worlds you would call ‘alien’ and also parallel worlds.” She absentmindedly scoops more Gushir onto the plates of others who have gathered around you. Someone who seems to be a ghost of some sorts apologises to you as they pass through your arm making you shiver. Elsie scrutinises you for a moment. “You look human to me, am I right?” You nod. “Well then, you’re from Earth, so am I. But not the same one, one that’s slightly different in minor ways.”

“Different how?” You ask, curious.

“Well that depends,” she cocks her head to the side, “which Earth are you from?”

“I don’t know.” You realise you’ve eaten all your Gushir and Elsie ladles another helping onto your plate.”

“Who’s the American president right now?” You grimace.

“Trump.” She mirrors your expression.

“That narrows it down. Are manatees endangered?” You take a moment to think, you’re sure you read this somewhere.

“No.” You don’t sound very certain at all but Elsie doesn’t seem to notice.

“Okay, down to four. Now finish the title of this famous novel, ‘We need to talk about...” Your silent for a fair while thinking about this one.

“Kevin?” you ask hopefully.

“Aha! Earth number 87.” She offers you a glass of something black and slightly fizzy, you take a sip and realise that it’s just Coke that’s gone a bit flat.

“You guys aren’t so different from us, we don’t have Trump but our politics are somewhat the same.” You nod, fascinated and slightly jealous. “Our animals are different too, we have some that are just myths to other Earths. Kelpies for example.” You feel your eyes go wide with wonder, fantastic images flying through your mind’s eye. “You’ll find a lot of parallels like that, only one or two things that are different. Sometimes the differences aren’t that exciting either, I met one guy from Earth 23 and there was no difference between our worlds except they never invented the dishwasher,” She shrugs “This is what we do here, talk to each other and learn about their world, their culture, it’s fascinating how big and weird the universe is.”

“Elsie!” It’s the purple cat person; their voice is deep and husky and you hazard a guess at male.

“What is it Kuvasz?” Elsie asks sweetly turning away from you.

“It’s been two Carnava, the Hellbengry market will be open and the Chvka move fast.” He nods to you as though you understand the seriousness of the situation.

“Okay,” She turns back to you, “I’ve got to go, Kuvasz gets anxious if we don’t have any Chvka in stock.” She pulls a forest green cloak from under the table and wraps it over her shoulders. “It was nice talking to you, come see me again and I’ll bring you more Gushir.” She grins broadly then strides off into the crowd, vanishing from sight. You wave a hand in a weak goodbye. Your plate is empty again so you turn back to the food table. 

“Making friends?” says a voice in your ear. You jump violently, dropping your plate and sending remnants of sauce flying. Angelo catches it before it smashes on the floor, and hands it back to you, giggling.

“Not funny,” you mumble, scowling at him.

“Aw c’mon,” he slaps you on the shoulder, “I was only joking. Anyway, how was your conversation with Elsie? She’s from Earth like you, right?” You nod and reach for your drink. “Hey, if you get in her good books she’ll bring you cake.”

“Where do they get the food from?” You ask, frowning at the dozens of dishes all along the tables with new ones being brought out every so often.

“Beats me,” Angelo shrugs and turns back to the food “They just turn up with it, we don’t pay them or anything, not that we have money here.” He picks up a couple of sticks with what looks like chicken on them and hands on to you. “I find it’s better not to ask questions and just be thankful.” You take a bite out of the maybe-chicken, it tastes like a combination of fish and beef. “Just enjoy the weirdness of the Space, my friend.” He takes a bite of meat off the stick and promptly spits it out onto the already stained grey floor.

Thank you for reading the next instalment of The Space. I was trying to go for some more world-building here and also a bit of explanation about how The Space works and the people in it. I know we’ve only talked to humans so far but don't worry we’ll get to know some other species later on. If you have any suggestions for characters you’d like to see or maybe just a comment (or even constructive criticism, I don’t mind!) feel free to say so.

The next instalment will be posted in a couple of weeks and will be titled Selkie, in which we meet a rather more unusual character (actually one of my favourite characters). Again, thank you for reading!

[adventuresinthespace]

The Arrival

You wake up underneath an antique wooden chair. Your vision slides in and out of focus and all you can make out are several scratches on the chair’s legs. There is a pounding behind your eyes and your limbs feel shaky and weak but you try to stand up anyway.

“Want some help there, buddy?”

You jump at the voice and smack your head into the chair sending it toppling over into its fellows. It is only then that you notice just how many chairs there are. There must be thousands all around you gathered around almost as many tables, all different makes and sizes from a great black medieval banquet table to tiny plastic children‘s ones. Antique chairs, patched up armchairs, spinning desk chairs, and some chairs that look as if they weren’t designed with humans in mind. Chairs and tables as far as your eyes can see. You look up, the ceiling disappearing into gloom as the world around you solidifies into what seems to be a cavernous warehouse of some kind. The walls are a grimy grey with no windows, instead there are various kinds of lighting every few feet or so and as diverse as the furniture they illuminate. 

“Are you okay?” the voice says. You turn around to meet olive skin, army fatigues, and kind brown eyes. Then you notice the thousands of people looking at you.

“Ummm” the sound you make comes out as a deep groan and amply reflects the pounding in your head. There are whispers from all directions, murmurs of curiosity, surprise, even amusement. This experience is getting weirder and weirder as you finally notice that not everyone you see can possibly be human. Wings, horns, multiple eyes, scales, tentacles, fur, collections of mist that have a vague humanoid shape . Perhaps you are high, could that be possible? Perhaps you have amnesia and this is actually the alien planet on which you live? Perhaps there is no explanation and you’ll have to live the rest of your life questioning your very existence? The thoughts racing through your mind only cause a particularly painful throb in your right temple and you reach out for one of the chairs. The man with the kind eyes hastily brings one forward for you to sit on. 

“Whoa there, take it easy. It will take a bit of getting used to,” he says, smiling lopsided at you. You decide you like him, he’s nice. The question begs to be asked.

“Where am I?” your voice is hesitant but clear enough, a little hoarse maybe. 

“Ah well that is a mighty fine question. We, that is to say a couple of friends and I, call it The Space.” He crouches down beside you and puts a steadying hand on your shoulder. 

“The Space,” you say, not a question, but a statement of incredulity.

“Yep,” he replies “There wasn’t a welcome leaflet so...” he trails off still smiling.

“And you?”

“I’m Angelo.” He holds out the hand not keeping you steady, “Nice to meet you.” You shake his hand which is warm and rough with callouses. You glance up again, a couple of eyes meet yours but everyone else has carried on with their regular business which seems to be chatting with one another. You can’t seem to look at them for very long, like your mind doesn’t want to accept their existence. You’re surprised at how well you’re taking this situation, considering. You blink several times and sway gently; Angelo’s grip tightens slightly.

“You okay?” You nod, but you’re not quite certain you believe it. “I’m going to explain what’s going on as best I can but I don’t have the answers for everything. Do you understand?” he doesn’t wait for an answer but sits in front of you and ploughs on. “This place, The Space, it seems to be a place where people just end up by accident. People from everywhere and anywhere, millions of different worlds. We don’t know why, it just happens. You are on of those people.” Angelo’s broad face has become a little more serious. You raise your eyebrows at him, which is the only response you can muster upon hearing this information. “We have food and drink, places to sleep, we have rules to keep things running smoothly, and the conversation here is the best in existence.” He stands and looks around at The Space fondly, as though this were a bar he liked to visit on the weekends. 

“So...I’m stuck here?” your voice is tentative. A twinge of panic now creeping into your chest. Though the room was cavernous, stretching on into the horizon, you feel claustrophobic and trapped.

“Yep,” says Angelo, his smile now a little sympathetic. “Don’t worry most people get back home after a few days, maybe a fortnight,” he continues. His words aren’t particularly comforting, and your heart beats a little faster but you nod anyway. This was the most interesting thing to ever happen to you, your life wasn’t mind numbingly dull but nothing came even close to this. You look around at the assortment of people, if Angelo was right and the crowd were indeed from an infinite number of worlds, all of whom in the same situation as you were, then you were going to have some mind-blowing conversations. 

“C’mon,” Angelo says pulling you to your feet. “I’ll show you around.”

Thank you for reading the first instalment of The Space. I’m going to be posting these every month or so maybe more so I hope you continue to enjoy the happenings in The Space. This series is basically going to be a sort of character bank with a narrative and anything is possible here. Hope you enjoyed it!