READ THIS FIRST! Hey, looks like this is my first "published" story ever! The first thing I should note is that this story is based off a webcomic called HomeStuck, by Andrew Hussie, which is arguably the greatest piece of literature and art to arise from this culturally despondent generation. The original story can be found on a website called mspaintadventures. HomeStuck need not be read to comprehend FATEStuck, but you should still read it, because it's funny and awesome and great. Plus, I might subconsciously insert references to it in the story, so if something seems strange or completely unfunny, just read HomeStuck, and you'll get it. Second, I MUST note that FATEStuck is a role playing game I play, with five other players and one GM. I cannot take any credit for the ideas made by other people. That includes the overall storyline, character development, and occasional lines of dialogue that were simply too witty for me to operate on. I can take credit for the words, the nuance, and all the various literary liberties I took to transform this great game into a story. Third, FATEStuck is supposed to meet once a week, but this is obviously not easily managed, considering seven people with different schedules, etc. I will attempt to keep to a schedule of at least one update a week, probably more if I have time, or sometimes less, usually depending on schoolwork. I believe FATEStuck has already had at least 20 sessions, so it will be a while, but I will probably catch up to "real time" in a few months. When that happens, updates will obviously slow down to whenever sessions happen. But I'll burn that bridge when I come to it. Lastly, many thanks to: Zuki, Godbot, Rafter, Innerfire, Spiritsongtress, Armada, and Pokerfates, the players of FATEStuck. And... I'm rambling, so here's the first chapter of the first act:

Act One

Heavy with the Portentous Weight of Destiny

-Session Start-

Chapter One

Synthetic Fungus

A young man stands in his bedroom. Well, hunches would be a more accurate term. He is hunching over one of many tables strategically situated throughout the room. It just so happens that he is working on a very intriguing experiment involving insects, compressed air, and minuscule plastic arms. It is no doubt extremely complicated, exciting, and altogether unimportant to this story. Besides, he is obviously a busy guy, tinkering with his tiny termites, and busy guys like him have no time to waste on silly people who don't know the difference between ovoviviparity and embryogenesis. Like you. Let us move on.

A young man is lying flat on a skateboard in his garage. He is similar in age, build, and locality to the first boy we met. Directly above him, a Jeep, broken beyond repair, stubbornly remains broken beyond repair. This guy seems pretty cool, and probably has all sorts of badass talents and whatnot. Seriously, what thirteen year old do you know who can fix a Jeep? Not this guy anyway; that Jeep is totally busted. Another thing that you should know about cool guys like him, is that they can get annoyed when people are being especially uncool. This particular cool guy gets pretty upset when working on belligerent Jeeps for hours, so we should probably keep looking.

Looking around at the area outside the garage, one could probably see trees. Many trees. They could see them, if not for the thick sheet of warm rain steadily assaulting the rainforest's ground. The air is also remarkably torrid, owing in part to the humidity from the recent showers. Other notable weather includes a layer of mist, gusts of wind, and a huge-ass freakin' hurricane bearing down on this exact spot.

Standing apart distinctly from the surrounding vegetation, a resplendent geodesic dome envelops the upper portion of a tremendous tree. Below it, surrounding the lower portion of the trunk, is a wide cone, with the apex truncated by the sphere above. The residents of this treedome already know of the impending storm, thanks to their highly advanced alert system. Perhaps we should examine the treedome in further depth, as there is obviously much to see.

There is certainly no dearth of technology inside the house; every door is automatic, every light motion-activated. There are no stairs; only an elevator system installed in the trunk of the tree. Below ground, there is a fully equipped lab, which almost all of the residents used to use on a frequent basis. On the ground floor, an extensive library is kept, housing hundreds of hefty tomes on all subjects, guarded by several highly advanced security systems. And of course, the entire tree and its immediate surroundings are covered by a field of stable wifi.

Oh, what's this? It seems the busy guy has finished being busy. Come to think of it, even busy guys like him have names, don't you think? Let's let him tell us his name, and then we can watch as he goes through the rest of his day.

Griffin Lottatore straightened his back and smiled, satisfied with the results of his experiment with Rasahus Reduviidae and their response to being supplemented with certain appendages. His joy was brought to an abrupt end however, when he caught a glimpse of the laptop sitting on his desk. It had a blinking symbol in the corner implying a storm warning, but he knew the true severity of the so-called "storm," thanks to the alert panel in the dining room. His parents had invented it, along with the dome itself, keeping in mind the natural climate of their chosen home in the Peruvian forest of Manu. He knew better than to shrug off the warning as being just another storm. A hurricane of this size could be extremely dangerous.

He decided then to go outside to check on his brother's progress on their Jeep, which had been completely demolished in an earlier squall. That Jeep, he understood, was their only method of transport into the city, from where they could gather supplies for the impending deluge. Leaving his room, he took the elevator down to the lower half of the dome of the house, where the main living space was. He exited the shelter of the dome to one of the balconies overlooking the pristine forest, and looked around for the Jeep and his brother, both of which were nowhere to be found, meaning he probably put it away. "Good," Griffin thought, "at least he managed to do that right." And since his brother was unseen as well, he was probably working on the Jeep.

Satisfied that work was, in fact, getting accomplished, Griffin turned back inside and returned to his room, where one of his colleagues had been attempting to chat with him through the Pester Chum application. One of his close friends, sangrealseamtress began pestering him, telling him "Obtain package. Extract game. Install Sburb." He quickly responded,

empiricalEntomologist: "Fine, thanks, and you?"

sangrealSeamtress: "Oh right, I've forgotten myself in my earnest."

sS: "I'm good, and very excited."

sS: "Also, remember the game we were discussing? Did it come yet?"

eE: "Oh yes, I recall. The beta, correct?"

sS: "Yeah that one."

eE: "I do not know if it arrived. My brother is in charge of collecting mail, and our Jeep is broken."

eE: "So I do not think that acquiring the game is possible at the moment."

sS: "Yeah, I usually try to get to my mail before the cats do, or they start playing with it."

eE: "Do tell."

sS: "Ugh, those cats are so annoying sometimes."

sS: "But I love them anyway."

sS: "Oh yeah, I put together my new computer, Viviane."

eE: "Viviane? You named your computer?"

sS: "I know it's dumb, but I think it's important to give it a bit of soul, and a name does that."

eE: "I guess it would be important if you wanted to install some sort of AI technology on it."

sS: "Yeah! That'd be soooo cool!"

sS: "I have to go now."

sS: "Go check your mail!"

sS: "And let me know if you get the game!"

eE: "Good bye."

sangrealSeamtress ceased pestering empiricalEntomologist.

And then there was calm in Griffin's room. Peace and quiet, just what he needed right then. Suddenly, a distant yet pronounced clatter rang throughout the house, followed by a barely audible expletive.

The phrase "oh great," drifted unconsciously into Griffin's mind. "The unmistakable sound of failure..."

The quandry now presenting itself to Griffin was whether or not he should meet and confront his brother regarding his failure; if he did, it would surely escalate into a full-fledged strife, but if left alone, a problem does not fix itself. Knowing his brother, he would definitely give up without a proper push. "Time for another motivational speech," he mused.

Ding!

The elevator performed its duties adequately, bringing the bedraggled Felix Lottatore up into the main living space of the Dome. Emerging into the center of the sphere, dripping with oil, rain, and frustration, he wanted nothing more than to viciously murder the first thing he came across. Conveniently enough, that happened to be his uptight, pretentious twin brother.

"What?" he spat, contempt thicker in his voice than the motor oil on his body.

"I said nothing." came the calm reply from his more reserved counterpart.

"Why are you here instead of poring over your creepy creatures?"

"I heard a commotion outside, and I was curious about the source. Why are you here instead of repairing our sole mode of transport?"

"I'm done with that piece of shit. It's toast. I'd rather walk to town to get food than waste my time on that crap heap."

"Walk? You want to walk 250 kilometers to Cuzko? You realize that would take... well over a week, right?"

"And fixing that Jeep would take well over eternity. Tell me, math geek, which is longer?"

"Had you been more responsible in your use of the Jeep, it would likely be in better condition."

"It was the storm, numbnuts! And at least I tried to fix it. What have you done to support us?"

"I... have been working on development of highly nutritious mushrooms for our consumption in the event you failed to get us a steady supply of food. Which you did."

"Mushrooms! Your solution to complete desolation is synthetic fungus?"

"It's better than nothing! What else can we do?"

For once, Felix lowered his voice and thought before replying "We could contact Mom and Dad. They could come home and help."

That shut up Griffin up pretty quickly. He paused, and then, "Felix we can't. I-"

"I know. I don't want to swallow my pride either. But have little choice-"

"No, I mean we actually cannot reach them at all. I tried talking to them before, about an hour ago. There was no response."

Felix paused for the second time in five minutes, more times than any other conversation he had ever had. The Lottatore parents had gone away on a scientific expedition. To where, the children knew not. They had told them they would return in three months. That was five months ago. Until this morning they had always been able to contact them, through some strange wireless network which neither twin fully understood. But now they had lost their last connection to their parents, and to society.

When he resumed speaking, all Felix said was "oh." Then, regaining his composure, he said :Well, I guess all we can do now is wait for the storm to pass, then order food by air drop. Our supplies should last us a few more days, so we should be fine."

"That... makes plenty of sense," replied Griffin, "but just to be safe, we should ration our food to last longer, in case the storm takes a while to pass. We should be fairly safe inside the dome; it's built to withstand severe weather."

No sooner had the words left his lips than a loud crash sounded outside the dome. Both twins raced to the window to see what the source of the disturbance was, and what they saw boded ill for their situation; the gale force winds had toppled one of the nearby trees. Then they saw something large and ominous; they quickly ducked out of the way, as a large branch came crashing through the window, propelled by 40 km/h winds, with insufficient force to penetrate the durable metal bubble, but enough to shatter the window into tiny fragments of plexiglass.

The Lottatore twins got up from the ground, sweeping plexiglass from their clothes. Looking at each other, they shared one thought: "Shi-"

-Session End-