Reality Hopping
In this story you can hop between realities following these rules:
No more then
- 1 a Day
- 6 a Week
- 20 every 4 weeks
- 50 every 12 weeks
- 180 every 48 weeks
These measurements are based on your home reality.
Your home reality is the one where you start your journey from.
When you hop to another reality you switch your mind with anybody who is there already.
If you hop to a different reality then your home reality from another reality then:
Reality 3 contains you.
Reality 2 contains the person from reality 3
Your home reality contains the person from reality 2
If someone dies then the person whose reality he/she home reality changes to that of the person who died. (Using the example above , if the person in your home reality dies your home reality becomes reality 2. If the person in reality 2 dies then the home reality of the person from reality 2 becomes
3.)
Written by Catprog on 22 August 2004
Alterntive Scenarios from Other Stories
This is for characters from the other stories in other scenarios.
Written by catprog on 21 February 2016
Generic Person. Generic Settings
A generic person in a generic setting.
Written by catprog on 03 June 2017
Feline Female
He felt a dull, throbbing pain across his entire form...it wasn’t fun in the slightest, and no matter how much he tried, he remained painfully aware of it...but pain was a good thing, from what he learned from his work. Pain was something good, in times of crisis.
Pain meant he was still alive.
Forcing himself awake, his senses came back in bulk as he felt his eyes sting from the light of the area. He was seated on a grassy patch, with a few, curled trees nearby, as the sun bore down on him. He could hear the distant call of beasts and other things in the distance, as the area filled him with a sense of serenity and peace.
Said sense was quickly smothered by the feeling of confusion and worry. How did he get out here? He remembered bits and pieces of things, but not the whole picture; how he got here in general?
As more sensations began to trickle back to him, he felt...unreasonably hot, and covered, while at the same time, unclad. It was...hard to describe really, and it was very pressing...something was wrong.
A sense of thirst was one of the few things he was aware of and understood; he needed to find some water.
Rising to shaky legs, he staggered and stumbled, until he found a pond a short distance away from his wake-up spot; dropping to his knees and plunging both hands into the crystal-clear water to pull out a handful and—
Panic snatched his serenity away in a flash.
His hands were furry. Covered in a thin, yet coarse film of sandy brown fur, his fingertips ended in jet black talons, almost like a feline’s would...it made no sense. A sickening mixture of curiosity and worry washed over him as he stood with more furor; looking down to examine what had happened to him.
His body was covered in that same sort of hair, and he was naked as the day he was born, with his feet ending in the same, sharp claws. A glance over his shoulder rewarded him the sight of a winding and curling feline tail, telling him that...that scaled monster was telling the truth; he did twist his body!
...and then he noticed something far more pressing. His penis was gone.
Having to hunch over a bit, he saw that he was...technically not even a he anymore; a womanly slit rested in his genital’s stead, and said hunch told him he had a pair of blossoming bosoms now, not spared from the fur either, as he dropped down, to stare at his reflection. A pair of large, feline ears rested atop his head, as his face still looked overall human...but it was very clear, he was twisted and marred into not only something female, but not even human in the slightest!
What a thing to come to and see...
A rustle in the bushes nearby drew his focus; inching back, he watched another being emerge from the underbrush, this new person being...much like he once was.
Written by AGhostInTheMachine on 03 September 2018
Hyena Male
...for one, male...but also anthropomorphic as well; head that of a hyena’s, with fur covering him as well, though his was dark brown and spotted. He also wore a brown loincloth made from plant fibers, and in hand, he held an obsidian tipped spear.
Overall, he looked like another lost soul...but clearly, he was one who had more time to wander about.
“Can you speak?” The hyena-headed male asked, to which he...or rather she, nodded in response. “Good...good...you should come; we don’t have a lot of time to waste. Don’t slow down; if you do, he’ll get you...and then no one’ll be able to save you.”
Well that was assuring.
Still, the feline being felt it’d be a good idea to follow with the male; the two of them beginning to trek away from the clearing, and through the forest brush; the sights now filling him with a sense of ire instead of the serenity from before.
Then again, it was hard to take in the beauty of something when your body was twisted into something else entirely.
“So, he got you too?” The hyena male asked, as he flicked the spear off, keeping it ready as he moved about. “Nugruc? He captured you as well?” That name...it made his mind wander a bit, but unfortunately, he found nothing of use...just the idea in his mind that somewhere, he heard that name...though he remained unaware if it was positive, or negative. “Even went so far as to turn your gender too, from the looks of things and how additionally confused you are over things. You must’ve really irked Nugruc if he did such a thing to you.”
“I suppose,” Even his voice came out feminine now, as his eyes drifted down to look at his taloned fingers. “What...is this place?”
“Honestly, not all of us are sure. We just remember the same thing, the same concept; we woke up somewhere out here, with little idea as to who were were...just bits and pieces of our memories. Sometimes, we get trickles of our old identity, but overall...we have nothing. And as for this place in general, we’ve taken to calling it ‘The Grounds’...on account of what he does.”
“What...who does?”
“The thing hunting us out here...we’re almost back to camp, but for the record...my name’s Tyrus. Not sure if it’s my birth name, but it’s the name I chose for myself. What about you?”
Written by AGhostInTheMachine on 07 September 2018
Can't Remember
“I...don’t know. Can’t remember anything, and I can’t think of anything...”
“Hmm...let’s call you, Feylin.” A rather confusing name, that earned Tyrus a look that matched it. “You’re a Feline-Morph; Feylin’s rather suiting.” And that just left even more questions, but on the upside, it meant he had a name at least...something others could call him.
...which...led to another question.
“What did you mean by others?”
“You and I aren’t the only ones to be confined to The Grounds. Many are like us; trapped in these...forms, and hunted for sport by that...being. So, as a result, we’ve grouped together, and formed a nomadic group...if we stay in one spot for too long, he may unleash the hounds to pursue us again.” A harrowing idea...hell, this was all so damn harrowing. First, he was turned into a female...whatever the hell he was, and now there was some thing hunting them?!
Just...what did he do to deserve this?!
Still, it didn’t take long to reach the location Tyrus mentioned; a massive clearing in the forest, with dozens of fiber tents erected about, and a few firepits about. And, of course, roaming about the large-scale camp were a lot like him; humanoid animals...though like Tyrus, they were all dressed in loincloths and cloth tops to preserve some modesty.
...he began to feel very underdressed...
Written by AGhostInTheMachine on 11 September 2018
So...the one hunting us is...?
“So...the one hunting us is...?”
“A foe we cannot hope to ever defeat,” Seated on a log across from Tyrus, Feylin asked all the questions he could think of. All around them, more of the Morphs, as the hyena called them, were preparing for a move; they had to move to a new location and make sure they didn’t get attacked again. Night had long since fallen, as Feylin heard Tyrus’ words as to what the hell they had to fear out here...what was hunting them. “From what I know, he’s called Nugruc...though his look...it’s rarely seen. He hunts from a distance, though a few Morphs have reported that he can sometimes show up himself...but it’s often rare.” All of this worried him, as the feline being dined on some herbs and greens contained in a wooden bowl; distasteful, but it was edible, at least. With the time spent working with this...group, he managed to garner himself some clothing too; the plant fiber top and loincloth did well to hide his new...genitals, and to remove some worries...he wasn’t ignorant to some of the leers some of the other Morphs gave him with this new body and he didn’t like it one bit.
“How bad does it get?”
“Horrid...when he can’t track us himself, he sends his beasts to do so. Twisted monsters that prowl in the dark, but driven away from light. It’s why we always maintain torches and keep our spears and obsidian swords ready...if they get too close, we drive them away, before they betray our location to that monster.”
“And...how do we survive this? Survive this entire situation?”
“Some of the older Morphs have an idea...there’s a location at the far end of this locale...at the far end of this forest, there’s a place we can flee. Somewhere the hunter refuses to prowl. If we can keep on our path, we can prevent him from cutting us off, and hunting us all down.” At least there was a light at the end of the tunnel...a way to get out of the situation, and to escape the Grounds.
...a thought occurred to Feylin, that soon became words spoken on impulse.
“Is there a way to reverse what happened to us? To fix us, and return us to normal?” That, seemed to catch Tyrus off guard; the hyena-headed male letting out a low, deep sigh, before he parted his maw to speak.
Just in time to watch a Morph nearby slump to the ground; head blown apart like an overripe melon.
Written by AGhostInTheMachine on 14 September 2018
The hounds
In a flash, the calm, peaceful atmosphere erupted into panic and screaming as inhuman bellows pierced the air; Feylin shooting to his feet and glancing around as he watched pure, and utter chaos transpire all around. He watched strange, canine like creatures rush about, howling and snarling at Morphs to force them to move, yet none of the beasts openly bit and attacked yet...but they were unsettling none the less.
A shove to his side sent Feylin to the ground, before being yanked into the underbrush; seeing Tyrus there, as the latter covered his mouth, just as one of the beasts prowled past.
It looked like a wolf but...it was devoid of all its pelt and even its skin; leaving its muscle tissue to make up its hide, as the flesh was a sickening, obsidian color, with a set of beady red eyes to glance about. Its claws were lengthy, almost like knives, as its skinless tail swayed to and fro, while the beast looked about for any more foes. And, to show ownership, it wore an emerald harness around its chest, and a collar as well.
Feylin was distracted from his thoughts when he felt something slimy and wet splatter on his back. Turning, he was just in time to catch a chestful of mud; as Tyrus was hurriedly working to cover both of them up.
“Oro Hounds can’t smell through mud,” Feylin just...tried to ignore the sensation of the mud against his breasts, as he returned to a prone position in the bushes. “Stay still and quiet...they’re not here to kill us...they’re trying to flush us out.” Feylin didn’t even get time to ask what Tyrus meant; he could see one of the Morphs make a break for it...only for their head to explode into sickening skull confetti as well.
The hounds were forcing Morphs out of concealment, and right into the open for...something to shoot. It was a all a clever, yet equally disgusting plan.
The screams closer by told Feylin someone was unlucky; one of those hounds was mauling a bird headed Morph with demented eagerness, as the beast thrashed about its prey...but soon it ceased all together, and dropped the bird, leaving him on the ground, bleeding and wounded. Feylin was about to question why...but he could hear it...in the approaching, close distance.
<b><i>Pap...pap...pap...pap...</i></b>
Something was approaching, with calm steps. Before long, something made itself known...something that sent eerie chills and shivers down his spine, from both the fears of what was just beyond the bush, and also what the beast looked like.
Written by AGhostInTheMachine on 16 September 2018
Reptile
He was a tall and imposing creature; standing over seven feet tall and with a sculpted figure. His body was covered in deep sage, scaled hide, with red stripes painting his shoulders, forearms, and thighs. His waist was slender, and shoulders broad, as his four fingered hand ended in chilling black talons, complete with a thumb as well. His legs were also reptilian; strong, powerful legs, with a caved in shin, and three toes, complete with a lengthy, sickle talon, all an obsidian black color. A winding, curling tail moved about too, and tipping it was a lengthy, bone stinger, meant purely for impaling foes...the worst way to die. His long, powerful neck moved forward, and Feylin was finally able to see his head; the creature’s head appearing reptilian, with a wide maw, and a mouth filled with sharp teeth...but where he was to have eyes, he had none at all, save for impressions in his head where they were supposed to be. Oddly, he looked to have a mop of hair covering his head as well, keratin protrusions that were arranged like dreadlocks on his head, even with little metal bandings. He even had a few decorating his chin, like some sort of beard...giving him an aged, yet seasoned look. As he knelt down by the wounded Morph, Feylin could see the being wore armor of some sort; a pair of baggy, violet shorts for his legs, as his shins were covered in cerulean armor, as were his forearms, as his upper torso was covered as well...but the rest of his armor was forged from yellow bone, as his hands were clad in brown, fingerless gloves. Still, the bones were namely around his belt, and upper back, meant more as trophies as opposed to actual defense.
Including a large, bull-like skull on his right shoulder.
“You were a fighter, it seems,” The voice that came from the hunter was...odd; bass and gruff, as it dripped aged and experience with every syllable. He reached his hand out, and Feylin watched one of those flesh hounds bring him a wooden knife, tipped with an obsidian head...it was what the Morph used to defend himself no doubt. “Risking such wounds to fend off my hounds...only with a primitive tool. You have my commendations...enough so to where I had to come to you, myself.”
“Go...to hell...you...FUCKING MONSTER!!!”
SHRUCK!
Feylin’s blood went cold as he watched the eyeless reptile ram that very knife into the bird’s shoulder; his blood-curdling scream being droned out by the affirmative howls of the hounds, though they fell silent when the reptile waved his hand.
“There’s no need for such language, you should know. I’m giving you politeness here...congratulating you for your furor...and then you fire off such fowl language at me. It’s uncalled for.” The knife was slowly twisted, before being left there, as the creature withdrew his hand. “But, I forgive you...now I offer you a deal. Tell me where the others ran, and I’ll grant you mercy.” The bird’s beak was contorted into agony, as he reached a weary hand up...and in a flash, he acted.
Feylin watched him rip the knife from his shoulder, and try to stab the alien, only for his wrist to be caught in a flash, and snapped like a twig.
“WAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
Written by AGhostInTheMachine on 18 September 2018
The end (for now)