A bright light streaks across darkness.
A crack of thunder booms in the void.
Fire burns in...
A crack of thunder booms in the void.
Fire burns in...
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Orion
I don't know what I'm doing
- Location
- Gotham City
A bright light streaks across darkness.
A crack of thunder booms in the void.
Fire burns in your throat.
The void sits heavy in your stomach.
Light comes to the world, too blue, too cold. You see a figure in the distance. They are you, but not. Something is wrong. Is it the light? Their eyes? You step closer to them, but they are no closer. You try to call to them, but your throat is too dry, too hot. You can only croak in their direction. They smile, turning away from you, and you falter. Are they truly you? Are you truly you? Or are you just a fragment, a reflection of the you that is truly you?
Who are you?
[]The Warrior-Witch: You excel in both the arcane and the mundane; having spent the past few years of your life as a fighter in the Pits forced you to pick up a lot of basic combat skills. Your own interests and exploration have given you a more intimate knowledge of the arcane arts. While above average in many regards, you are ultimately just a jack of all trades. You focus primarily on mid-range combat, slinging spells when opportunity allows. You easily switch from your short sword and buckler to your spear when you want to change distance. Death has no meaning to you.
[]The Technomage: You blend magic and technology to the point where they are indistinguishable. You seamlessly transform your weapons from one to another, from claws to particle beams, you can make it all with a little ingenuity. Your sheer flexibility is by far your greatest boon: you are rather lacking in all others. Of course you're not a great warrior, you're a mage! You can't be bothered with such trivial things like working out or endurance training when there are things to study. Still, you are far from a pushover, and those who tangle with you often fall victim to your irregular attacks. You have lost your heart.
[]The Huntress: You and your twin brother are sellswords; you offer your blade to any who will pay. You are warriors. Fighters. You are the quick one, the one who attacks in a flurry of blades and dodges like you were never in harm's way. You prefer to fight where you have the advantage, and you are not above manipulating the circumstances so you do. You are dedicated and hardworking, and will only end a fight when you or your opponent has died. That has always worked out in your favor. While speed is by far your biggest advantage, you are also strong, and you carry a few magical tricks up your sleeve that few live to tell about. The storm fills your veins.
[]The Executioner: You and your twin sister are sellswords; you offer your blade to any who will pay. You are warriors. Fighters. You are the tough one, the one who takes heavy hits and dishes them out in kind. You love the thrill of the fight, love taking an enemy head-on, love a fair win. You do not revel in death in destruction, but it wouldn't be wrong if someone were to call you a blood knight. Still, your smile is just as big as your sword. You don't mind a handicap in a fight, instead enjoying the opportunity to prove yourself by overcoming the odds that are stacked against you. Like all good warriors, you have a few secret tricks to pull out when a fight gets especially close. Stone breaks beneath you.
[]The Spare: You have no power. It is possible you are the only one without power. No sparks crackle between your fingertips, no spoons bent with your mind, no changes of hair or eye color. Not even the weakest of powers has graced you. Despite this-- or maybe, because of it-- you are an active fighter. Rather than rely on power, on the gifts of magic, you fight solely with your fists and the strength you have worked to hard to achieve. However, you are fragile. Fights do not always go your way. You have learned to improvise to compensate for your weaknesses. You walk the long road.
[]The Immortal: You are old. Impossibly old. You've lost yourself, lost who you were. The lack of memories does not impede you, however. If there is anything in the universe harder to kill, it has not yet been discovered. You are weak and unskilled, though not for lack of trying. You cannot beat an opponent without help. This is why you stay far away from the battle, preferring to snipe off enemies when you can. It is not beyond you to tough out a fight, though; letting an opponent exert all their energy attempting to defeat you is always an option-- if a rather unsavory one. The key is right in front of you.
Message me if you want to beta/if I'm taking too long to continue the story. I'll add character profiles and other handy things to this post sometime later.
A crack of thunder booms in the void.
Fire burns in your throat.
The void sits heavy in your stomach.
Light comes to the world, too blue, too cold. You see a figure in the distance. They are you, but not. Something is wrong. Is it the light? Their eyes? You step closer to them, but they are no closer. You try to call to them, but your throat is too dry, too hot. You can only croak in their direction. They smile, turning away from you, and you falter. Are they truly you? Are you truly you? Or are you just a fragment, a reflection of the you that is truly you?
Who are you?
[]The Warrior-Witch: You excel in both the arcane and the mundane; having spent the past few years of your life as a fighter in the Pits forced you to pick up a lot of basic combat skills. Your own interests and exploration have given you a more intimate knowledge of the arcane arts. While above average in many regards, you are ultimately just a jack of all trades. You focus primarily on mid-range combat, slinging spells when opportunity allows. You easily switch from your short sword and buckler to your spear when you want to change distance. Death has no meaning to you.
[]The Technomage: You blend magic and technology to the point where they are indistinguishable. You seamlessly transform your weapons from one to another, from claws to particle beams, you can make it all with a little ingenuity. Your sheer flexibility is by far your greatest boon: you are rather lacking in all others. Of course you're not a great warrior, you're a mage! You can't be bothered with such trivial things like working out or endurance training when there are things to study. Still, you are far from a pushover, and those who tangle with you often fall victim to your irregular attacks. You have lost your heart.
[]The Huntress: You and your twin brother are sellswords; you offer your blade to any who will pay. You are warriors. Fighters. You are the quick one, the one who attacks in a flurry of blades and dodges like you were never in harm's way. You prefer to fight where you have the advantage, and you are not above manipulating the circumstances so you do. You are dedicated and hardworking, and will only end a fight when you or your opponent has died. That has always worked out in your favor. While speed is by far your biggest advantage, you are also strong, and you carry a few magical tricks up your sleeve that few live to tell about. The storm fills your veins.
[]The Executioner: You and your twin sister are sellswords; you offer your blade to any who will pay. You are warriors. Fighters. You are the tough one, the one who takes heavy hits and dishes them out in kind. You love the thrill of the fight, love taking an enemy head-on, love a fair win. You do not revel in death in destruction, but it wouldn't be wrong if someone were to call you a blood knight. Still, your smile is just as big as your sword. You don't mind a handicap in a fight, instead enjoying the opportunity to prove yourself by overcoming the odds that are stacked against you. Like all good warriors, you have a few secret tricks to pull out when a fight gets especially close. Stone breaks beneath you.
[]The Spare: You have no power. It is possible you are the only one without power. No sparks crackle between your fingertips, no spoons bent with your mind, no changes of hair or eye color. Not even the weakest of powers has graced you. Despite this-- or maybe, because of it-- you are an active fighter. Rather than rely on power, on the gifts of magic, you fight solely with your fists and the strength you have worked to hard to achieve. However, you are fragile. Fights do not always go your way. You have learned to improvise to compensate for your weaknesses. You walk the long road.
[]The Immortal: You are old. Impossibly old. You've lost yourself, lost who you were. The lack of memories does not impede you, however. If there is anything in the universe harder to kill, it has not yet been discovered. You are weak and unskilled, though not for lack of trying. You cannot beat an opponent without help. This is why you stay far away from the battle, preferring to snipe off enemies when you can. It is not beyond you to tough out a fight, though; letting an opponent exert all their energy attempting to defeat you is always an option-- if a rather unsavory one. The key is right in front of you.
________________________________
This entirely based off of my own original works, so I'm still playing with the fine details. But I hope that it's enjoyable enough to warrant interest!
Message me if you want to beta/if I'm taking too long to continue the story. I'll add character profiles and other handy things to this post sometime later.
________________________________
Codex
Chapter One: The First Steps
Part One: No Dates For You
Part Two: A Mediocre Awakening
Part Three: A Spaceship Most Shabby
Part Four: Chatting With The Twins
Part Five: 20 Questions
Part Six: Captain Cuckoo
Part Seven: A Wretched Hive of Villainy and Scum
Part Eight: Queen of the Damned
Part One: No Dates For You
Part Two: A Mediocre Awakening
Part Three: A Spaceship Most Shabby
Part Four: Chatting With The Twins
Part Five: 20 Questions
Part Six: Captain Cuckoo
Part Seven: A Wretched Hive of Villainy and Scum
Part Eight: Queen of the Damned
Name: Eros (fake), real name unknown.
Age: Unknown
Power, General: Immortality
Notes: Amnesiac, non-combatant. (concerned about ship safety, & food??? often gets lost in thought, will get really existential for no reason. possible philosophy major???)
Abilities (1-10)
Aura of Abomination: 9
An immortal defies death to the utmost degree. Quantifiable causes for this are unidentified, but speculated to be related to the immortal's presence as a "void" of death. Proper terminology yet to be codified. Aura strength is directly proportional to the immortal's regeneration abilities. An Aura this strong has negative effects in a 100 meter wide radius. Non-immortals within this range feel varying levels of unease and fear depending on their proximity to the Aura's epicenter. Intensity of aura increases greatly when within touching distance of the immortal. The Aura's effects vary depending on the individual, however the most common response is fear. May cause hostilities with the immortal, or among other non-immortals. Aura diminishes substantially when immortal is unconscious.
Eyes of the Dead: 1.5
An immortal's eyes can pierce the veil between life and death. This immortal's eyes can see the specters of the freshly dead, or the especially strong spirits, usually manifesting as a warping of light. This ability warps the appearance of an immortal's eyes. Exact warping specifications vary from individual to individual. Cause unknown.
Regeneration: 10(++++)
Any and all damaged matter will regenerate to the fully functional, original form. No cellular material from original required for regeneration to happen. Regeneration this strong can reform the immortal when all cells are destroyed. Process unknown. Further details unknown.
Age: Unknown
Power, General: Immortality
Notes: Amnesiac, non-combatant. (concerned about ship safety, & food??? often gets lost in thought, will get really existential for no reason. possible philosophy major???)
Abilities (1-10)
Aura of Abomination: 9
An immortal defies death to the utmost degree. Quantifiable causes for this are unidentified, but speculated to be related to the immortal's presence as a "void" of death. Proper terminology yet to be codified. Aura strength is directly proportional to the immortal's regeneration abilities. An Aura this strong has negative effects in a 100 meter wide radius. Non-immortals within this range feel varying levels of unease and fear depending on their proximity to the Aura's epicenter. Intensity of aura increases greatly when within touching distance of the immortal. The Aura's effects vary depending on the individual, however the most common response is fear. May cause hostilities with the immortal, or among other non-immortals. Aura diminishes substantially when immortal is unconscious.
Eyes of the Dead: 1.5
An immortal's eyes can pierce the veil between life and death. This immortal's eyes can see the specters of the freshly dead, or the especially strong spirits, usually manifesting as a warping of light. This ability warps the appearance of an immortal's eyes. Exact warping specifications vary from individual to individual. Cause unknown.
Regeneration: 10(++++)
Any and all damaged matter will regenerate to the fully functional, original form. No cellular material from original required for regeneration to happen. Regeneration this strong can reform the immortal when all cells are destroyed. Process unknown. Further details unknown.
Name: Red, full name unknown.
Age: Unknown, speculated mid-late twenties.
Power, General: Unknown, speculated to be strong.
Notes: Known "badass," raised by strong immortal, has twin sister. Speculated former Federation military, unit unknown, rank unknown. Unit patch yellow, identifying markers unknown. (scars, despite advanced medtech? also carries pens and paper. friendly, but unsettling.)
Abilities (1-10)
[Redacted]: 10
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels two and under]
[Redacted]: 4
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels seven and under]
[Redacted]: 6
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels nine and under]
Age: Unknown, speculated mid-late twenties.
Power, General: Unknown, speculated to be strong.
Notes: Known "badass," raised by strong immortal, has twin sister. Speculated former Federation military, unit unknown, rank unknown. Unit patch yellow, identifying markers unknown. (scars, despite advanced medtech? also carries pens and paper. friendly, but unsettling.)
Abilities (1-10)
[Redacted]: 10
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels two and under]
[Redacted]: 4
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels seven and under]
[Redacted]: 6
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels nine and under]
Name: Zel, possible moniker, full name unknown.
Age: Unknown, speculated early twenties.
Power, General: Unknown.
Notes: Stole a highly secure Federation Kesteral-class ship. Possible former Federation military, unit unknown, rank speculated lieutenant or lower. (bit of an anger issue)
Abilities (1-10)
Abilities unknown. Ability rank unknown.
Age: Unknown, speculated early twenties.
Power, General: Unknown.
Notes: Stole a highly secure Federation Kesteral-class ship. Possible former Federation military, unit unknown, rank speculated lieutenant or lower. (bit of an anger issue)
Abilities (1-10)
Abilities unknown. Ability rank unknown.
Name: Scarlet, also known as Scar.
Age: Unknown, speculated mid-late twenties.
Power, General: Unknown, speculated to be strong.
Notes: Raised by strong immortal, has twin brother. Speculated former Federation military, unit unknown, rank unknown. Unit patch yellow, identifying markers unknown. Shares these traits with Red. (scars like Red, despite medtech? has a paper book, despite access to codex libraries. also long hair, potential liability in a fight, why keep?? VERY SCARY!!! )
Abilities (1-10)
Intimidation: 7
It is said that when an individual becomes a powerful enough warrior, they can change how others experience the world. A truly strong warrior can create fear in those around them. Similar to an immortal's Aura of Abomination, in that it induces fear. Unlike an immortal's Aura, intimidation can be "turned off" at any time. Intimidation only works on those who are significantly weaker than the intimidator. Can be used on multiple targets at once.
[Redacted]: 10
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels two and under]
[Redacted]: 6
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels seven and under]
[Redacted]: 3
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels nine and under]
Age: Unknown, speculated mid-late twenties.
Power, General: Unknown, speculated to be strong.
Notes: Raised by strong immortal, has twin brother. Speculated former Federation military, unit unknown, rank unknown. Unit patch yellow, identifying markers unknown. Shares these traits with Red. (scars like Red, despite medtech? has a paper book, despite access to codex libraries. also long hair, potential liability in a fight, why keep?? VERY SCARY!!! )
Abilities (1-10)
Intimidation: 7
It is said that when an individual becomes a powerful enough warrior, they can change how others experience the world. A truly strong warrior can create fear in those around them. Similar to an immortal's Aura of Abomination, in that it induces fear. Unlike an immortal's Aura, intimidation can be "turned off" at any time. Intimidation only works on those who are significantly weaker than the intimidator. Can be used on multiple targets at once.
[Redacted]: 10
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels two and under]
[Redacted]: 6
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels seven and under]
[Redacted]: 3
[Information regarding this ability is classified to all Federation personnel levels nine and under]
Name: Abel (false), real name unknown
Age: Unknown, at least several millennia, if not more
Power, General: Regeneration
Notes: Former prince. Suspected Sumerian. Has a tattoo of a late stage Cuneiforn symbol. Knows at least to languages. Purported love of sailing. (really likes trench coats? and really tall too. dyes hair for some reason.)
Abilities (1-10)
Aura of Abomination: 7
An immortal defies death to the utmost degree. Quantifiable causes for this are unidentified, but speculated to be related to the immortal's presence as a "void" of death. Proper terminology yet to be codified. Aura strength is directly proportional to the immortal's regeneration abilities. An Aura this strong has negative effects in a 75 meter wide radius. Non-immortals within this range feel varying levels of unease and fear depending on their proximity to the Aura's epicenter. Intensity of aura increases greatly when within touching distance of the immortal. The Aura's effects vary depending on the individual, however the most common response is fear. May cause hostilities with the immortal, or among other non-immortals. Aura diminishes substantially when immortal is unconscious.
Eyes of the Dead: 5
An immortal's eyes can pierce the veil between life and death. This immortal's eyes can see most spirits, usually manifesting as humanoid figures. This ability warps the appearance of an immortal's eyes. Exact warping specifications vary from individual to individual. Cause unknown.
Regeneration: 10(+)
Any and all damaged matter will regenerate to the fully functional, original form. No cellular material from original required for regeneration to happen. Regeneration this strong can reform the immortal from a single cell. Process unknown. Further details unknown.
Age: Unknown, at least several millennia, if not more
Power, General: Regeneration
Notes: Former prince. Suspected Sumerian. Has a tattoo of a late stage Cuneiforn symbol. Knows at least to languages. Purported love of sailing. (really likes trench coats? and really tall too. dyes hair for some reason.)
Abilities (1-10)
Aura of Abomination: 7
An immortal defies death to the utmost degree. Quantifiable causes for this are unidentified, but speculated to be related to the immortal's presence as a "void" of death. Proper terminology yet to be codified. Aura strength is directly proportional to the immortal's regeneration abilities. An Aura this strong has negative effects in a 75 meter wide radius. Non-immortals within this range feel varying levels of unease and fear depending on their proximity to the Aura's epicenter. Intensity of aura increases greatly when within touching distance of the immortal. The Aura's effects vary depending on the individual, however the most common response is fear. May cause hostilities with the immortal, or among other non-immortals. Aura diminishes substantially when immortal is unconscious.
Eyes of the Dead: 5
An immortal's eyes can pierce the veil between life and death. This immortal's eyes can see most spirits, usually manifesting as humanoid figures. This ability warps the appearance of an immortal's eyes. Exact warping specifications vary from individual to individual. Cause unknown.
Regeneration: 10(+)
Any and all damaged matter will regenerate to the fully functional, original form. No cellular material from original required for regeneration to happen. Regeneration this strong can reform the immortal from a single cell. Process unknown. Further details unknown.
[Library contents locked until further notice]
Last edited:
[X] The Immortal: You are old. Impossibly old. You've lost yourself, lost who you were. The lack of memories does not impede you, however. If there is anything in the universe harder to kill, it has not yet been discovered. You are weak and unskilled, though not for lack of trying. You cannot beat an opponent without help. This is why you stay far away from the battle, preferring to snipe off enemies when you can. It is not beyond you to tough out a fight, though; letting an opponent exert all their energy attempting to defeat you is always an option-- if a rather unsavory one.
- Location
- ☯
[X]The Spare
Orion
I don't know what I'm doing
- Location
- Gotham City
I'll continue tomorrow morning. Or maybe after like, ten votes. Ten is a nice, arbitrary number.
Currently The Immortal is in strong favor. Which, isn't who I expected, buuuuut in hindsight it's kinda obvious that he's so popular. Too bad he's such a flounder at fighting.
Thank you, everyone, for your participation!
Currently The Immortal is in strong favor. Which, isn't who I expected, buuuuut in hindsight it's kinda obvious that he's so popular. T
Thank you, everyone, for your participation!
- Location
- Australia
[X]The Spare
WanderingEye
smol skeleton
[X]The Immortal
- Location
- Somewhere
[X]The Technomage
[x]The Warrior-Witch
[X]The Technomage
[X]The Immortal
Part One: No Dates For You
Orion
I don't know what I'm doing
- Location
- Gotham City
Ahhh, you remember now.
You are Eros. At least, you think that is your name. You chose it for yourself when you realized you couldn't remember your other, older name. There are lots of things you can't remember anymore. It's only natural that one so old would begin to lose his past.
The figure in the distance turns to you, beckons for you to come closer. He is you, but not you.
He has your face, your ambiguously young looks, but he wears it better. Something about the set of his jaw, the shape of his nose, gives off the impression of immense age. Not like you. You just look like a gangly teen, straddling the line between youth and adulthood. He has your hair, too, but backwards. A creamy white instead of black, a streak of black where there should have been tan. You begrudgingly admit that it looks way cooler than your cheesy dye job. He wears something that reminds you of a toga. You don't think it's a toga, but you were never much one for fashion. The not-toga is gold, obscenely so, though you can't make out the details from where you are.
He lifts a bangled arm up, gesturing for you to come closer. Your feet move of their own accord, shuffling slowly, drawn to the you that is not you. Or maybe, the you that is even more you than you.
But it's his eyes, really, that draw your attention. They are not your eyes. You think you could look into his eyes for eternity. So maybe that's why you break his gaze, holding your feet steadfast against the marble. Had that always been there? Were you standing on a slab of stone the whole time?
You look down at the marble slab, focusing on it instead of the you with better hair. Maybe when you look up, he'll be gone. A line forms in the corner of your vision, bending the light around it like a cracked piece of glass. You look up, startled, and the you that is not you is gone. A breeze whips by, and the cold bites you to your very bones. More lines appear, bending and curling like rivulets of water on a car window. Everything begins to blur together. You try to take another step, try to do something, anything, but you can't. You are stuck, frozen.
You stand on a street corner, bag of groceries in one hand, phone in the other. For the past half hour, you've been checking it expectantly, hoping against hope that maybe the cute girl you gave your number to would call you, text you, something. You check the time (five fifty), sigh, and pocket your phone. No use sitting around waiting for something that may never happen. Besides, it's getting late, you should go home. This early into winter Meissa is already starting to set, basking the city in a pink glow. The crowded sidewalk seems to part as you walk by, people flowing around you like water. They keep away from you, acting on some deep-set, primal instinct. They can feel it, that something is wrong, something is unnatural about you.
Not like they were wrong.
Maybe that's why she doesn't want to go out with you. Nobody wants to spend time with someone who gives them creepy ax murderer vibes.
"Shut up," you say out loud.
Nobody notices. They are, in fact, too busy looking up at the sky to pay attention to the creepy kid talking to himself. You look up too, tilting your sunglasses down so you can see at the evening sky brightening, from the yellow gray of a city night to the powder blue of day to hollow, empty white. As the sky grows brighter, everything gets hotter, gradually building up from the cool winter night to a dip in an atmospheric hot tub. The air dries, leaving you with the vague impression of sandpaper when you try to breathe.
"Now I'm never gonna get that date," is the last thing you say.
It hurts. It hurts.
It hurts it hurts it hurts
it hurts ithurts it hurtsit hurtsithurts
hurtsithurts ithurtsit hurtsit ithurtsithurts
ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts
_____
You're floating, when you wake up. Drifting in the cold void. The very, very cold void. There is no air. Of course there's no air.
Just what I need, another stint floating in space.
You can't think clearly, everything starts to blur. Of course you're going to die again. You can't stop dying today.
It's a cycle: a few moments of conciousness here and there, followed by another death. You try to count how many times you die, how many things that kill you while you're drifting, but you can't keep your thoughts strait long enough.
You only hope that you wouldn't be caught by the gravitational pull of amother planet, let alone a star. The last thing you need is to be stuck in some hot, pressurized hellhole for a million years.
So maybe things go your way when finally, at the end of the day (or however long it's been-- time doesn'thave a lot of meaning to you) you're rescued. You think. You weren't very alive for that part. But the next time you open your eyes, you can see an overhead light. It's too painful to look at, kicking a painful headache into gear, and you immediately cover your face and just listen instead. The first thing you hear is a low hum. Engines, maybe? Voices can be heard in the distance, muffled, but easy enough to make out if you tried.
You try looking agin, slowly easing yourself into looking around the very brightly lit room. It looks like a medbay, if a medbay was cobbled together out of spare scraps and shoved in a supply closet. You're alone in the room, lying on a bed, completely naked. If you were any better condition, you would be concerned about wearing only your birthday suit, but for now you're just trying to sort everything out. There's a door maybe three steps to your left, and some shelves behind you. It seems like someone folded up a pile of clothes and set them on the shelf by your head, presumably for you. A white dress shirt and jeans, along with what appears to be a pair of boots. None of it fits right, but it's better than nothing at all.
Now that you're dressed, what do you do?
[] Listen to the voices in the distance. Maybe they're saying something interesting. Maybe you just like eavesdropping. Either way, you could pick up some useful information about where you are.
[] Plan a daring escape from your prison/supply closet. You must have been taken prisoner by these- these- space pirates. It would do you well to escape the clutches of any potential captors. While death isn't something you have to fear, the wrong people could make your life very unplesant for very long time if you're not careful.
[] Explore the medbay/supply closet. Who knows, there could be something useful in here, right? It's not like you'd be any worse off, and maybe there's something useful hiding on one of those shelves.
[] Write in.
You are Eros. At least, you think that is your name. You chose it for yourself when you realized you couldn't remember your other, older name. There are lots of things you can't remember anymore. It's only natural that one so old would begin to lose his past.
The figure in the distance turns to you, beckons for you to come closer. He is you, but not you.
He has your face, your ambiguously young looks, but he wears it better. Something about the set of his jaw, the shape of his nose, gives off the impression of immense age. Not like you. You just look like a gangly teen, straddling the line between youth and adulthood. He has your hair, too, but backwards. A creamy white instead of black, a streak of black where there should have been tan. You begrudgingly admit that it looks way cooler than your cheesy dye job. He wears something that reminds you of a toga. You don't think it's a toga, but you were never much one for fashion. The not-toga is gold, obscenely so, though you can't make out the details from where you are.
He lifts a bangled arm up, gesturing for you to come closer. Your feet move of their own accord, shuffling slowly, drawn to the you that is not you. Or maybe, the you that is even more you than you.
But it's his eyes, really, that draw your attention. They are not your eyes. You think you could look into his eyes for eternity. So maybe that's why you break his gaze, holding your feet steadfast against the marble. Had that always been there? Were you standing on a slab of stone the whole time?
You look down at the marble slab, focusing on it instead of the you with better hair. Maybe when you look up, he'll be gone. A line forms in the corner of your vision, bending the light around it like a cracked piece of glass. You look up, startled, and the you that is not you is gone. A breeze whips by, and the cold bites you to your very bones. More lines appear, bending and curling like rivulets of water on a car window. Everything begins to blur together. You try to take another step, try to do something, anything, but you can't. You are stuck, frozen.
_____
ETA, 18:00
You stand on a street corner, bag of groceries in one hand, phone in the other. For the past half hour, you've been checking it expectantly, hoping against hope that maybe the cute girl you gave your number to would call you, text you, something. You check the time (five fifty), sigh, and pocket your phone. No use sitting around waiting for something that may never happen. Besides, it's getting late, you should go home. This early into winter Meissa is already starting to set, basking the city in a pink glow. The crowded sidewalk seems to part as you walk by, people flowing around you like water. They keep away from you, acting on some deep-set, primal instinct. They can feel it, that something is wrong, something is unnatural about you.
Not like they were wrong.
Maybe that's why she doesn't want to go out with you. Nobody wants to spend time with someone who gives them creepy ax murderer vibes.
"Shut up," you say out loud.
Nobody notices. They are, in fact, too busy looking up at the sky to pay attention to the creepy kid talking to himself. You look up too, tilting your sunglasses down so you can see at the evening sky brightening, from the yellow gray of a city night to the powder blue of day to hollow, empty white. As the sky grows brighter, everything gets hotter, gradually building up from the cool winter night to a dip in an atmospheric hot tub. The air dries, leaving you with the vague impression of sandpaper when you try to breathe.
"Now I'm never gonna get that date," is the last thing you say.
_____
It hurts.
It hurts. It hurts.
It hurts it hurts it hurts
it hurts ithurts it hurtsit hurtsithurts
hurtsithurts ithurtsit hurtsit ithurtsithurts
ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts
_____
You're floating, when you wake up. Drifting in the cold void. The very, very cold void. There is no air. Of course there's no air.
Just what I need, another stint floating in space.
You can't think clearly, everything starts to blur. Of course you're going to die again. You can't stop dying today.
It's a cycle: a few moments of conciousness here and there, followed by another death. You try to count how many times you die, how many things that kill you while you're drifting, but you can't keep your thoughts strait long enough.
You only hope that you wouldn't be caught by the gravitational pull of amother planet, let alone a star. The last thing you need is to be stuck in some hot, pressurized hellhole for a million years.
So maybe things go your way when finally, at the end of the day (or however long it's been-- time doesn'thave a lot of meaning to you) you're rescued. You think. You weren't very alive for that part. But the next time you open your eyes, you can see an overhead light. It's too painful to look at, kicking a painful headache into gear, and you immediately cover your face and just listen instead. The first thing you hear is a low hum. Engines, maybe? Voices can be heard in the distance, muffled, but easy enough to make out if you tried.
You try looking agin, slowly easing yourself into looking around the very brightly lit room. It looks like a medbay, if a medbay was cobbled together out of spare scraps and shoved in a supply closet. You're alone in the room, lying on a bed, completely naked. If you were any better condition, you would be concerned about wearing only your birthday suit, but for now you're just trying to sort everything out. There's a door maybe three steps to your left, and some shelves behind you. It seems like someone folded up a pile of clothes and set them on the shelf by your head, presumably for you. A white dress shirt and jeans, along with what appears to be a pair of boots. None of it fits right, but it's better than nothing at all.
Now that you're dressed, what do you do?
[] Listen to the voices in the distance. Maybe they're saying something interesting. Maybe you just like eavesdropping. Either way, you could pick up some useful information about where you are.
[] Plan a daring escape from your prison/supply closet. You must have been taken prisoner by these- these- space pirates. It would do you well to escape the clutches of any potential captors. While death isn't something you have to fear, the wrong people could make your life very unplesant for very long time if you're not careful.
[] Explore the medbay/supply closet. Who knows, there could be something useful in here, right? It's not like you'd be any worse off, and maybe there's something useful hiding on one of those shelves.
[] Write in.
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- Location
- Australia
[X] Listen to the voices in the distance. Maybe they're saying something interesting. Maybe you just like eavesdropping. Either way, you could pick up some useful information about where you are.
Orion
I don't know what I'm doing
- Location
- Gotham City
Oh! Brief aside here, but for those of you who may have been interested in the other protagonist options, here's some good news! Everyone is going to show up eventually, as a friend/ally/potential romantic interest
so
look forward to seeing the Warrior-Witch, the Technomage, the Huntress, The Executioner, and the Spare
so
look forward to seeing the Warrior-Witch, the Technomage, the Huntress, The Executioner, and the Spare
- Location
- .
Oh. What joy.
Orion
I don't know what I'm doing
- Location
- Gotham City
I was trying to joke, honest!
buuuut if people want romantic interests, romantic interests can happen. It's a possibility, like a lot of things. For the most part I'm gonna try to focus on mythology and gods and cool stuff
- Location
- .
Oh, good! I'm always worried when certain players spot the appearance of a potential love interest.
