FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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Tired of endless people purposefully wiping smears of dirt and grime on him. Never moving, never seeing the world as his Uncle Stan, the flying carpet, always described it. The rug -
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he found exactly what he was looking for. The name stared back to him from the store across the narrow street. "Olivander's wands," read a creaky sign. He had found it. -
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Ellie struggled with her jumpsuit as she stumbled onto the stage. Rosy gave her a thumbs up from the wings. "This looks like a job for Insecurity Woman," she stammered. -
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2 meters of packed fill dirt. When I burst out of the ground a roving pack of hillbillies shouted "Zombie apocalypse!" and charged me with pitchforks. "No, no!" I tried to say but
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with a sordid past/future like Custer. Satan imagined it was eating Michael from the inside; working its way out and leaving nothing but numbness behind. Without his fire, Michael