***Note: this was an entirely spur-of-the-moment RP. I came up with a setting on the fly, and Geezer responded in turn. All of this was written in the chat room. Blue is my entry, Green is his.***

Imagine a barren plain. Steppes cover the landscape. Brush and small plants are few and far between. It is in this wasteland that you spy a tall figure in the distance. The light is fading, and it makes things hard to see.

There was a tightness in his chest. He had only wanted to rest for a short while and the boulder had been oh so inviting. When he dosed off, he wasn't sure, but he barely remembered leaning against the boulder, much less slumping down beside it with his ancient beaten up fedora smothering his nostrils. By the time he got back up on his feet and finished dusting himself off, the light had already dimmed all around and the looming silence was starting to make a presence. At least, the wind had been some company before. No, not complete silence. There it was again - the sound that had caused the silence to press down even more. The sound of movement.

The old man smirked, if something was moving about, it could be eaten, or spoken with. 'Not as good at filling the stomach but better than farting to himself,' he thought with a grimace. A few uncertain steps and he finally could make out the only - seemingly - other living being in this barren land, and it looked human.

A disheartened sigh brushed past cracked lips, followed by a moist tongue. "Oi! You! Hey! Over here!" The old man didn't even wait for a response and started waving his arms in the air and stepping towards the figure. The fact that it might be something dangerous didn't even cross his mind as he kept on yelling. "Got a drink?"

"Yeah! Hold on just a minute!" The figure yelled back to him. It quickened its pace, moving slightly faster than a shuffle. The closer the figure got, the more and more clearly he could be see. For it was a he. He was dressed in a battered blue overcoat that reached up from his knees to the back of his neck. It looked as if there had been golden trimmings once, but they only remained in part. Large black boots plodded towards the old man. A canteen flew through the air, sloshing sounds coming from within.

The old man was squinting all the time and just now realized that if he continued to do so, he'd be looking at a bigger headache come nightfall. He registered the flying missile almost a bit too late and ended up using both hands to catch hold of the container before it fell before him. Nodding a silent thanks, he unscrewed the top off the canteen and without bothering to check took a long drink. It was immediately followed by him making a face and swallowing down hard. "Water?" he asked as his free hand continued to work away the accumulated dust from the surroundings; as if that would ever help, considering the condition of his clothing - and the coloring - actually matched the scenery. A bit too much, actually.

"It was water the last time I checked." The man offered up something of a grim smile. "But with all of the dust around here, it wouldn't surprise me if it had turned into mud." He squinted up towards the sinking sun. "It's getting dark. I don't think either of us need to be out in this blasted wilderness at night. Do you have any idea how to get out of here?"

The old man simply shrugged in response, "You might want to give a warning next time you hand someone water instead of a real drink." Lobbing back the canteen he continued, "Don't suppose you'd believe me if I said I'm not even sure exactly where 'here' is or the way out? I was hoping you'd be able to tell me."

The younger tilted his head down towards the dusty plain. "Wait. You don't know where here is, either?" He suddenly locked his gaze on the older's face. "I don't remember this place at all. Not getting here, nor preparing to go here, anything of the sort. I just woke up a few miles that direction," he said, gesturing behind him. "And that canteen? I had it attached to my belt, but I don't remember doing anything of the sort."

An uncertain chuckle was the initial response. The old man reached under the fedora and started scratching his noggin, "I don't suppose the wastelands crept up on us while we was sleeping, do ya?" Another sigh and a moment to chew on his lower lip passed as he mulled over the possibilities. "I know I'm used to waking up in all sorts of situations, but this would be a first - having company under the same circumstances." Now it was the geezer's turn to take a look at the fading daylight, "But yer right, perhaps we ought to find a way out or some shelter at least. No idea what'll be crawling out there in the night. We can think about our situation, later."

"Come to think it - you're probably right. But what can we do? There's just a bunch of rock pillars and a few small plants." He began to survey the land around them. "We can hardly take cover from anything out here."

"Worse gets to worst, I'd rather be up on those pillars than get stung by a scorpion in my sleep... then again, I slept just fine here. I like the thought of us being all alone even less than worrying about what might be inhabit the place." The old man shrugged again. "I say pick a direction and we walk, eventually we are bound to see sum't - if not, we won't be any different than we are here."

The younger man pointed to the west. "This way looks slightly more promising than the others. After all, those pillars look, well relatively more climb-able than the rest. Like you said, if worse comes to worst, we'll have at least altitude on our side." He began to walk.

The old man nodded and fell in pace with the stranger - favoring his right leg slightly, "Good call. I'd race ya, but let's keep this nice and civil, instead. I won't fall back if you don't." The lop-sided grin he gave wouldn't have won him any points with the ladies, much less another male, but it was as win-some a smile he was capable of. "I just hope no one is gettin' a kick out of watchin' us. I'd hate to be 'em, because if we were brought here by something sentient, I'd like to stick a boot in their intelligence."

A dimpled smile ran its way across his face. "I'd share the sentiment, but if it's gettin' kicks watching us, sticking a boot in its... er... intelligence... would likely just get us eaten, or worse. As they trekked across the scrunchy earth, black shadows scurried here and there, crisscrossing their path.

"Eh, eaten... won't keep me from tryin' though. Speakin' o'which - know if any of 'em plants are edible?" The old man kept shuffling along while keeping his eyes on the ground, looking for any outcropping that might want to induce an abrupt introduction between his face and the ground; the shadows were certainly not helping.

"I suppose we won't know til we try em, ay?" He stooped down, scooping up a small, tough weed from the orange earth. He looked at it curiously, then ripped a small piece of it from the stalk. He eyed it dubiously for a second, then gulped it down. And made a face. "Well, I don't feel like I'm dying - yet. But it's hardly delicious."

The geezer nodded, not fully convinced, "Let's wait and see if it's one of them slow poisons. I can wait." A half-smiled came to life on his face, but only briefly as he kept on trudging without pause, "I'll know for sure if you fall back any further. And with luck, we might be able able to use the surrounding brush to light us a fire." His pace was slow but steady, despite the strain on his leg without a walking aide, but it was not showing all that much just yet. He had a good while in him, at least he was certain of it.

The younger man chuckled, then suddenly grimaced. "I'd considered it, but I just figured it wouldn't be." He looked up to the sun, which now was obscured from view behind a long ring of mountains. Purple and orange lights spilled out from behind them, filling the plains with watercolor hues. "It's gorgeous," he mused. "Though I think I'd enjoy watching the sun set more if I knew for certain we had some shelter." He started to gather up some more of the brush and weeds, stuffing them into the empty canteen. "Guess we might as well pick up as many as we can while we walk. Where do you think we should hide out?"

There was a contemplative nod, but he didn't seem to be interested in helping the younger one gather potential firewood and food. The last thing he wanted to do at this moment was strain his back. Instead, he focused on the pillars, "We'll need something at our backs and against the wind. So our destination remains the same, it seems."

Step by faltering step the pillar loomed closer still. The old man had no real intention of climbing up the damnable thing in the first place, unless it was absolutely necessary. So far, it didn't seem like it.

"Wish the base was wider. We could use plenty o'protection against the wind at night. It's goin' to get cold and I don't see a reason to ...." he trailed off suddenly looking at his comrade-in-arms-for-the-moment.

He hadn't noticed anything.

"I know I didn't notice any signs of life as we were walkin'. Didn't want to step in anything unpleasant. But you were closer to the ground on more than one occasion," he made it sound so natural as if gathering the firewood and searching the brush for something edible was not something he should be even considered to indulge in, "Notice anything? Fecal matter? Bones? Hell, drying spit?"

A grunting nod was his only response. Though, he knew it was more than just odd, but voicing those sentiments wouldn't serve any real purpose. Not yet, at the very least.

The base of the rock pillar was barren as well, even more so than the surroundings. Not even weed. Though there were some holes in the ground roughly an inch-wide at most - from insects or simple moisture under the shade and protection of the stone. Jutting a good five feet off the ground from the pillar all the way to the top, were rocky protrusions as thick as a man's arm, that tapered off another rough five feet in length with a rounded tip at the end.

The old man planted his palms against his lower back and arched his spine, grunting and mumbling all the way. He was tired and he would make damn sure his companion knew it as well. Just in case the latter had any crazy notion of asking him for assistance with, well, anything.

"Don't suppose you have a light on you, eh?" He started to rummage through his pockets for his rolling paper as he moved up against the pillar, ready to settle down while keeping the setting sun at his back. If there was going to be any movement out in the landscape, no sun in his eyes was going to prevent him from noticing it. That would be the task of his near-sightedness alone.