[X][Name Round 2] Shira
–[x][Name Round 2] Shira Eliana Al-Hafiz
–[x][Name Round 2] Shira Eliana Al-Hafiz
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To ignite a fading star
- Thread starter The Yaski
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
- Location
- Colorado
So, voting is now open. I got some basic character sheets up for you and your mom, so feel free to check those out before voting if you want.
In the description of your dragony-ness, I don't talk about what your face looks like. I'm not certain at this point. I don't know whether to go full half-dragon dragon-face with snout and all, or regular human face shape but with scales. Or maybe somewhere in between? Like, you have a shorter snout than you should, but it's still there, like half-way between the two. I'm still debating. I would be open to opinions from the audience. I'm not turning it into a full poll, but I'm open to being swayed by public opinion.
Also debating on whether to work on fleshing out the remaining character sheets more, or continuing work on the next chapter. Not certain yet, but we'll see what I feel like.
In the description of your dragony-ness, I don't talk about what your face looks like. I'm not certain at this point. I don't know whether to go full half-dragon dragon-face with snout and all, or regular human face shape but with scales. Or maybe somewhere in between? Like, you have a shorter snout than you should, but it's still there, like half-way between the two. I'm still debating. I would be open to opinions from the audience. I'm not turning it into a full poll, but I'm open to being swayed by public opinion.
Also debating on whether to work on fleshing out the remaining character sheets more, or continuing work on the next chapter. Not certain yet, but we'll see what I feel like.
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- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X][Name Round 2] Eliana
–[X][Name Round 2] Eliana Shira Al-Hafiz
Also, the 'having vote options that obviously aren't actually options' thing is an interesting aesthetic.
As for the face shape thing, i'm not really a fan of muzzles personally, so i'd 'vote' for the 'regular' face one.
–[X][Name Round 2] Eliana Shira Al-Hafiz
Pft, too dramatic for the word 'ball' ey? Fair enough i guess, lol.
Also, the 'having vote options that obviously aren't actually options' thing is an interesting aesthetic.
As for the face shape thing, i'm not really a fan of muzzles personally, so i'd 'vote' for the 'regular' face one.
[X][Name Round 2] Shira Eliana Al-Hafiz
--
re: Dragon attributes: If we're a fae dragon then I would say that our default is mostly human with scales, cause we're a quarter dragon quarter fae, half human. However if we put in the effort we can get more or less dragon. Grow a snout (I think muzzle is more used for furrier things) and get real scaly or tone it back and look mostly human. Fae glamour and all that.
--
re: Dragon attributes: If we're a fae dragon then I would say that our default is mostly human with scales, cause we're a quarter dragon quarter fae, half human. However if we put in the effort we can get more or less dragon. Grow a snout (I think muzzle is more used for furrier things) and get real scaly or tone it back and look mostly human. Fae glamour and all that.
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- Location
- Colorado
Oh my god, thank you! I knew muzzle wasn't the right word, but I kept blanking on the word I was looking for.
Also, interesting idea. I shall consider.
Vote closed
New
- Location
- Colorado
Well, the vote is closed. Not as many votes this time. Could be any number of reasons why, but I have the poll at the top of the page, so let me know what's what. I have the next chapter 90% finished, but I won't post it the moment I'm done with it. I'll wait a little bit to see how the poll shakes out.
If people really want a different name, then you have until my next chapter goes up to try and convince me. Once the name goes up in the chapter, it's locked for good. If a dozen of you show up and all want Shira to be the name, then I'll be willing to switch it. But if the time to post comes around and it's only a narrow margin then I'll stick by the vote. I want to stick by them as much as possible for the sake of fairness, but this is a new thread and I'm new to this so I'm willing to accept some growing pains.
If people really want a different name, then you have until my next chapter goes up to try and convince me. Once the name goes up in the chapter, it's locked for good. If a dozen of you show up and all want Shira to be the name, then I'll be willing to switch it. But if the time to post comes around and it's only a narrow margin then I'll stick by the vote. I want to stick by them as much as possible for the sake of fairness, but this is a new thread and I'm new to this so I'm willing to accept some growing pains.
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The Froggy Ninja
The Blade Will Never Die
I mostly didn't vote because I don't have a real preference for the name, as opposed to other aspects of character creation or their actual actions.
- Location
- Colorado
That's fair.
- Location
- Colorado
Well, for now it seems that the poll is pretty close to unanimous. So we're going to be keeping the current system of chapters going up on Fridays, the voting staying open 3 days, and then closing on Mondays. I'm kind of obsessed with writing, so weekly chapters will be pretty common, but if I miss my Friday deadline even by a bit I'll just wait for the next Friday to keep things consistent.
Oh why thank you! I gotta admit, I got hooked by the history of your portal quest as well. The covering of the different eras and epochs was very cool.
Oh why thank you! I gotta admit, I got hooked by the history of your portal quest as well. The covering of the different eras and epochs was very cool.
3 - Waking up
New
- Location
- Colorado
You awake lying on the floor of the dungeon.
First things first, you groan pitifully. Check that off the list. There is a twinge in your back and a pain in your chest, but both fade as you lever yourself upright. What doesn't fade is the pounding in your head. The pain swells as you sit up and you let out a reptilian hiss of pain as you clutch at it.
By all the gods known and forgotten, by all the blighted names of every last demon, and by the secrets of every resident of Annwn, this fucking hurts. You've had a lot of headaches over the years, and this one takes the cake. It feels like your skull might split open at any moment. Blurry blobs of color swim in your vision, and you aren't certain if it's because your eyes are watering or if the pain can just make your vision do that.
The pain settles back down after a few seconds, though it doesn't fade completely, not even close. It flares up again when you first attempt to push yourself further upright, then when you try and turn to look at the room. It's too much, and you have to abort both attempts. You do manage to fight through the pain enough to find the location of the closest wall and suffer the brief burst of agony from pushing yourself over to lean your head back against it. I got it, I got it. Head movement is bad. Message received.
You take deep breaths and steady yourself as the pain gradually recedes and thinking becomes easier. How long was I out? You crack an eye open. Everything is still blurry, but not as much as before. You take a moment to glance around as much as you can without having to move your head.
You're sitting with your back propped up against the wall of the dungeon. Your head is tilted back, and you can mostly only see the ceiling, but that and the tops of the podiums you can just barely see affirms that you are still in the same spot you passed out in, thank goodness. You can cross "moved while unconscious" off your list of potential problems. Now to just deal with the rest of that list.
After a minute or two just sitting there and catching your breath, you dare to tilt your head slightly to the side. The flare of pain isn't as severe this time, which is technically progress. It's enough that you can see some of the interior of the drawer you opened, and no, the floating sphere is not there anymore. Because of course it wouldn't be that simple. You can't quite see the bottom of the drawer from this angle, so it's possible the sphere just stopped floating and dropped to the bottom, which would be more reassuring than it disappearing outright.
Tilting your head to the side was also sufficient to confirm that the remaining blurriness in your vision was tears when you feel the warmth of them begin to spread down your cheek. You cannot bother to find the energy to wipe them right away.
What in the hells was I thinking? Why am I here? What am I doing? Why did I ever think this was a good idea? I'm just some Sparkless nobody, that's all I'll ever be. I'm lucky I'm not dead. You let yourself wallow for a while in the pain and self-recrimination. You can't say it feels good, but it is soothing in its own way. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You chide yourself as you finally go to wipe your tears.
Thunk
You startle yourself as your hand suddenly stops short and your head jostles slightly. You jerk your hand away in confusion. What in the hells? After a moment, you slowly and carefully reach back towards your face.
Your fingertips make contact. There, right in front of your face, less than an inch away. There is something there that you can't see. You press your fingertips into it, and it is hard and unyielding. You press your entire hand against it and push like you're trying to smash your own face, but there is no give whatsoever.
It's only then, staring in confusion at your own hand in front of your face, that you realize something. It would have been immediately obvious to someone who hadn't spent their whole life dealing with the color of their skin changing without warning or consent. However, for you it takes several seconds to realize that the off-white color of your hand is not the pearly off-white you are used to it taking. It takes another second longer to notice the texture on your wrist is not leathery, but rather some sort of fabric.
You stare at your hand in shock, and a panicked glance at the other reveals similar fabric, going all the way up your arm. You bolt upright, not even noticing the resurgence of your headache, frantically examining your arms, your legs, every inch of yourself that you can.
Then you catch sight of your reflection in one of the mirrored (what you assumed were) doors and you freeze. What. In. The. Fuck. You barely recognize yourself. While you were unconscious, it seems someone had thought it would be hilarious to stuff you into some sort of… you don't even know. You don't have a word for whatever this is, you've never seen any garment ever like it. Whatever it is, it makes you look…
Incredibly generic. Despite the strangeness of the garment, that is all you can think. You've never seen an outfit like this in your life, it should be strange and unique, but you can't help but think that it is designed to do the opposite.
The outfit covers every inch of your skin, leaving no recognizable features to identify you. Almost the entire thing is made of some off-white fabric you don't recognize, with only four spots of black. One is a triangle on your chest that points downwards. The six-pointed star on the back of each of your hands make two more.
The last bit of black is the large, black, kite-shield shaped plane that makes up the entire front of your helmet. Which you hadn't even realized you are wearing. Your hand reaches up and rests against the curved surface that makes up the entire front of the helmet. In your point of view your hand seems to press against some invisible wall right in front of your face, but in the reflection you can clearly see it touching the face shield. What.
It makes you impossible to distinguish. The front is just a curved black surface, no indication of your mouth or eyes or nose. The back of the helmet juts out a little in two small fins. You can tell they are just large enough to fit your horns in them, but if you hadn't known that was what they are for you could have easily thought that they are simply decorative. The way the light reflects off the helmet implies it's made of some different material than the rest of the… body stocking (you decide to name it), but it's otherwise the exact same color as the rest of the suit. The.
The whole thing seems so wildly impractical to you that the few functional additions it has just appear comical. It's just a thin layer of fabric over your entire body, you don't think the presence of the visible knee and elbow pads, sturdy-looking boots that go up to your ankle (is it a boot if it's made for digitigrade anatomy?), and gloves with padded knuckles will really do all that much if you ever end up in a scrap. And the fact that there appears to be padding or some other extra material down the entire length of your tail that makes it look thicker than you know it is just seals the deal. Fuck.
Is this some sort of prank?! Did whatever ancient civilization built this place make that… whatever that sphere was, as some sort of joke!? Was the light within it just some sort of extremely elaborately crafted lure to trick unsuspecting dragon-girls into touching it so it could knock them out and give them a non-consensual makeover??? And while you're on that subject, where in the FUCK are the clothes you had been wearing!?!?
For some reason, you felt like crying again. You have no idea what is going on, and you are feeling overwhelmed, but you would have expected panic, not tears. Yet all you want is to break down and curl up into a ball, and you can't figure out why.
Forcing out a growl of frustration, you fight down the impulse. No, you refuse to be broken. Not by the world, by the nation, by the emperor, by your circumstances, and certainly not by this. You would not be brought low by some glorified piece of scrap metal and a gods-be-damned costume change!
Your growl of frustration grows into a roar as you rear back a leg and kick the broken podium, feeding your sorrow to your frustration, and turning that frustration into action. You expect your reward for your impulsive action to be some thoroughly stubbed toes. Those podiums are built solidly, and you'd discovered they are rather heavy when you'd had to shift it to open the drawer earlier.
So when the podium goes flying across the room to impact the far wall, the loud clang makes you jump. The sound resonates around the empty metal room, and you don't move again until it's completely faded. And a few seconds more just to be safe. I… I just… what? Once more today, you cautiously creep forward, approaching the podium that lays there so innocently.
You'd only felt the same amount of resistance you'd felt kicking a ball as a kid. Noticeable, but inconsequential. There was no way your kick should have been able to send the podium flying like that. You should have broken your claws, or your toes.
And yet there is a small but noticeable dent in the side where your foot had impacted it. You inspect it and your foot. You'd been too freaked out to register it earlier, but not only are the coverings over your feet shaped around your toes in a way that allows you to properly splay them as you like to, they even have claws built into the ends of said toes. You look at the gloves covering your hands, and sure enough they have claws at the ends of the fingertips as well.
You feel like a spectator watching your own body move as you look down and dumbly drag one foot along the floor. You're rewarded with a shrill screech and a set of faint scratches in the metal. Numbly, you reach out and drag the claws on your gloves down one of the doors. Where before you had pushed with all your might and not even made a mark, now you only have to exert the slightest effort and you scratch thin lines into the mirrored surface.
You stare down at your hands as if you don't recognize them, and you suppose you don't with the gloves covering them. The claws on the gloves are completely undamaged. "What the hell is this," you murmur softly to yourself, unable to keep the question within the privacy of your own mind this time. "Everything you've been wanting, and more."
You're beginning to feel dizzy. This is all too much, too fast. You can feel the confines of the helmet now, even if you still can't see it with your eyes. The cloth hugging every inch of your body feels sweltering now and impossibly confining. A prison of fabric.
You scrabble at your wrists, trying to get the gloves off, only to discover they are sown into the rest of the suit. Pulling on the 'boots' reveals the same. Frantically, you claw at the fabric over your neck. There is no seam, no way to remove the helmet. Where before the claws on the gloves had easily marked the strange metal without effort, now your full strength cannot open even the smallest tear in the fabric.
You are beginning to hyperventilate. There is no way out. You're trapped in here. Are you going to die in this thing? How can you eat with the helmet in the way? Will you starve to death, slowly, painfully withering away with food in reach but unable to eat it? How can you go back home? How can you explain what happened? Will they even believe that you're you?
You whimper pitifully and your tears flow freely for the second time today. This has to be a dream, no, a nightmare. You remember feeling just like this when you awoke from them as a child. That's what this must be. You're going to awake at any moment, and everything will have been a nightmare. The artifact, this dungeon, the emperor, the war, everything. You're going to wake up any second now, and your mother is going to be there, ready to hold you in her arms, stroke your hair, and tell you how none of this is real. You sob, all alone in this cold, empty room. Please. Someone. Anyone. Help me. I just want out of this thing. "Well, since you asked."
At that thought there is a slight pressure on your chest, and you gasp as it feels like there is a tug on your soul. You whip your head down, and the triangle on your chest is glowing. After a moment you realize the stars on your gloves are too. Sure enough, a glance in the mirror reveals that the black plate on your face is glowing as well, still invisible to your own eyes. You recognize the glow, that same impossibly pure light that was in the center of the sphere.
In one heartbeat the light spreads over the entire suit, enveloping it in concealing light. Another heartbeat later and it recedes, taking the strange pull on your soul with it and revealing that you're back in the exact same outfit you came here in.
Well, not exactly the same. The departing light flows swiftly down your arm, and when it fades entirely it is to reveal that there is now something near your wrist. Made from a material that appears at once both crystalline and metallic, it has a rather simple design. A plain unadorned band wraps around your lower forearm, melding into a small brick of the same. The block is as wide as your forearm, twice as long, and stops just high enough that it doesn't impede your hand's ability to bend backwards. It has a black rectangle on its surface that reminds you of the ones on the podiums and that are covering the walls.
You want it off right now. You've had enough adventure, and you are done with this thing. With the same frantic energy as before you tear at it, though you are driven by rage and frustration now rather than fear and desperation. Just like the infernal fabric of before, there is no release. No clasp to open, too tight to slip out of, and resistant to your best efforts to damage it.
Not that you don't give it a very solid try. You're panting with exertion by the time you stop trying to beat your new passenger against things, and not for the first time you wish you were able to sweat. Stupid scales. You enjoyed the lack of body odor, but there were plenty of times you wanted the extra endurance that comes with it.
You stare up at the ceiling of the dungeon, watching the strange lines occasionally flicker with cyan. In retrospect, you hadn't handled that all that well. Now that you are calmer, you realize that just because you couldn't get it off doesn't mean that nobody could. While it would have been embarrassing, you could have just gone back to town, and they would have called for a wizard or something, and someone would have gotten it off. You were never in any danger. Yeah.
Once you catch your breath, you sit up from where you had collapsed on your back in defeat. So, you now have a new piece of incredibly impractical and unwanted jewelry. This is fine. Anything is better than being in that suit. It would be awkward to explain, but you can handle awkward. Probably.
The armlet gets one more glare before you sigh and push yourself up onto your feet. Nothing to do about it then. You'll just have to go back and face the music. Explain to your brother, your father, and the entire town what had happened. Anxiety warred with excitement within you. The fact that the artifact is attached to you is a bit of a sour point, but maybe you are looking at it wrong.
After all, you'd gotten exactly what you'd been hoping for! An imposing crater, a mysterious dungeon, and a strange and wondrous artifact. Sure, some things you hadn't asked for had happened as well, but maybe you just phrased your wish poorly. And, when you really think about it, maybe this is actually better. You'd wanted to return with a mysterious object in hand, but now that it's on your hand (heh) they wouldn't be able to confiscate it from you! That has to be worth something to the Adventurer's Guild, right? Yeah. Yeah, this is a good thing.
Having successfully convinced yourself, you smooth your skirt once more, lift your head high, and survey the room one last time. Yup, everything just as you remembered. The presence of the closed drawers and the maybe-doors had to be addressed eventually, but there would be time for that later. You'd accomplished your objective and you honestly felt a bit tired after all of this excitement.
So with your back straight and your stride confident, you head back out of the dungeon.
First things first, you groan pitifully. Check that off the list. There is a twinge in your back and a pain in your chest, but both fade as you lever yourself upright. What doesn't fade is the pounding in your head. The pain swells as you sit up and you let out a reptilian hiss of pain as you clutch at it.
By all the gods known and forgotten, by all the blighted names of every last demon, and by the secrets of every resident of Annwn, this fucking hurts. You've had a lot of headaches over the years, and this one takes the cake. It feels like your skull might split open at any moment. Blurry blobs of color swim in your vision, and you aren't certain if it's because your eyes are watering or if the pain can just make your vision do that.
The pain settles back down after a few seconds, though it doesn't fade completely, not even close. It flares up again when you first attempt to push yourself further upright, then when you try and turn to look at the room. It's too much, and you have to abort both attempts. You do manage to fight through the pain enough to find the location of the closest wall and suffer the brief burst of agony from pushing yourself over to lean your head back against it. I got it, I got it. Head movement is bad. Message received.
You take deep breaths and steady yourself as the pain gradually recedes and thinking becomes easier. How long was I out? You crack an eye open. Everything is still blurry, but not as much as before. You take a moment to glance around as much as you can without having to move your head.
You're sitting with your back propped up against the wall of the dungeon. Your head is tilted back, and you can mostly only see the ceiling, but that and the tops of the podiums you can just barely see affirms that you are still in the same spot you passed out in, thank goodness. You can cross "moved while unconscious" off your list of potential problems. Now to just deal with the rest of that list.
After a minute or two just sitting there and catching your breath, you dare to tilt your head slightly to the side. The flare of pain isn't as severe this time, which is technically progress. It's enough that you can see some of the interior of the drawer you opened, and no, the floating sphere is not there anymore. Because of course it wouldn't be that simple. You can't quite see the bottom of the drawer from this angle, so it's possible the sphere just stopped floating and dropped to the bottom, which would be more reassuring than it disappearing outright.
Tilting your head to the side was also sufficient to confirm that the remaining blurriness in your vision was tears when you feel the warmth of them begin to spread down your cheek. You cannot bother to find the energy to wipe them right away.
What in the hells was I thinking? Why am I here? What am I doing? Why did I ever think this was a good idea? I'm just some Sparkless nobody, that's all I'll ever be. I'm lucky I'm not dead. You let yourself wallow for a while in the pain and self-recrimination. You can't say it feels good, but it is soothing in its own way. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You chide yourself as you finally go to wipe your tears.
Thunk
You startle yourself as your hand suddenly stops short and your head jostles slightly. You jerk your hand away in confusion. What in the hells? After a moment, you slowly and carefully reach back towards your face.
Your fingertips make contact. There, right in front of your face, less than an inch away. There is something there that you can't see. You press your fingertips into it, and it is hard and unyielding. You press your entire hand against it and push like you're trying to smash your own face, but there is no give whatsoever.
It's only then, staring in confusion at your own hand in front of your face, that you realize something. It would have been immediately obvious to someone who hadn't spent their whole life dealing with the color of their skin changing without warning or consent. However, for you it takes several seconds to realize that the off-white color of your hand is not the pearly off-white you are used to it taking. It takes another second longer to notice the texture on your wrist is not leathery, but rather some sort of fabric.
You stare at your hand in shock, and a panicked glance at the other reveals similar fabric, going all the way up your arm. You bolt upright, not even noticing the resurgence of your headache, frantically examining your arms, your legs, every inch of yourself that you can.
Then you catch sight of your reflection in one of the mirrored (what you assumed were) doors and you freeze. What. In. The. Fuck. You barely recognize yourself. While you were unconscious, it seems someone had thought it would be hilarious to stuff you into some sort of… you don't even know. You don't have a word for whatever this is, you've never seen any garment ever like it. Whatever it is, it makes you look…
Incredibly generic. Despite the strangeness of the garment, that is all you can think. You've never seen an outfit like this in your life, it should be strange and unique, but you can't help but think that it is designed to do the opposite.
The outfit covers every inch of your skin, leaving no recognizable features to identify you. Almost the entire thing is made of some off-white fabric you don't recognize, with only four spots of black. One is a triangle on your chest that points downwards. The six-pointed star on the back of each of your hands make two more.
The last bit of black is the large, black, kite-shield shaped plane that makes up the entire front of your helmet. Which you hadn't even realized you are wearing. Your hand reaches up and rests against the curved surface that makes up the entire front of the helmet. In your point of view your hand seems to press against some invisible wall right in front of your face, but in the reflection you can clearly see it touching the face shield. What.
It makes you impossible to distinguish. The front is just a curved black surface, no indication of your mouth or eyes or nose. The back of the helmet juts out a little in two small fins. You can tell they are just large enough to fit your horns in them, but if you hadn't known that was what they are for you could have easily thought that they are simply decorative. The way the light reflects off the helmet implies it's made of some different material than the rest of the… body stocking (you decide to name it), but it's otherwise the exact same color as the rest of the suit. The.
The whole thing seems so wildly impractical to you that the few functional additions it has just appear comical. It's just a thin layer of fabric over your entire body, you don't think the presence of the visible knee and elbow pads, sturdy-looking boots that go up to your ankle (is it a boot if it's made for digitigrade anatomy?), and gloves with padded knuckles will really do all that much if you ever end up in a scrap. And the fact that there appears to be padding or some other extra material down the entire length of your tail that makes it look thicker than you know it is just seals the deal. Fuck.
Is this some sort of prank?! Did whatever ancient civilization built this place make that… whatever that sphere was, as some sort of joke!? Was the light within it just some sort of extremely elaborately crafted lure to trick unsuspecting dragon-girls into touching it so it could knock them out and give them a non-consensual makeover??? And while you're on that subject, where in the FUCK are the clothes you had been wearing!?!?
For some reason, you felt like crying again. You have no idea what is going on, and you are feeling overwhelmed, but you would have expected panic, not tears. Yet all you want is to break down and curl up into a ball, and you can't figure out why.
Forcing out a growl of frustration, you fight down the impulse. No, you refuse to be broken. Not by the world, by the nation, by the emperor, by your circumstances, and certainly not by this. You would not be brought low by some glorified piece of scrap metal and a gods-be-damned costume change!
Your growl of frustration grows into a roar as you rear back a leg and kick the broken podium, feeding your sorrow to your frustration, and turning that frustration into action. You expect your reward for your impulsive action to be some thoroughly stubbed toes. Those podiums are built solidly, and you'd discovered they are rather heavy when you'd had to shift it to open the drawer earlier.
So when the podium goes flying across the room to impact the far wall, the loud clang makes you jump. The sound resonates around the empty metal room, and you don't move again until it's completely faded. And a few seconds more just to be safe. I… I just… what? Once more today, you cautiously creep forward, approaching the podium that lays there so innocently.
You'd only felt the same amount of resistance you'd felt kicking a ball as a kid. Noticeable, but inconsequential. There was no way your kick should have been able to send the podium flying like that. You should have broken your claws, or your toes.
And yet there is a small but noticeable dent in the side where your foot had impacted it. You inspect it and your foot. You'd been too freaked out to register it earlier, but not only are the coverings over your feet shaped around your toes in a way that allows you to properly splay them as you like to, they even have claws built into the ends of said toes. You look at the gloves covering your hands, and sure enough they have claws at the ends of the fingertips as well.
You feel like a spectator watching your own body move as you look down and dumbly drag one foot along the floor. You're rewarded with a shrill screech and a set of faint scratches in the metal. Numbly, you reach out and drag the claws on your gloves down one of the doors. Where before you had pushed with all your might and not even made a mark, now you only have to exert the slightest effort and you scratch thin lines into the mirrored surface.
You stare down at your hands as if you don't recognize them, and you suppose you don't with the gloves covering them. The claws on the gloves are completely undamaged. "What the hell is this," you murmur softly to yourself, unable to keep the question within the privacy of your own mind this time. "Everything you've been wanting, and more."
You're beginning to feel dizzy. This is all too much, too fast. You can feel the confines of the helmet now, even if you still can't see it with your eyes. The cloth hugging every inch of your body feels sweltering now and impossibly confining. A prison of fabric.
You scrabble at your wrists, trying to get the gloves off, only to discover they are sown into the rest of the suit. Pulling on the 'boots' reveals the same. Frantically, you claw at the fabric over your neck. There is no seam, no way to remove the helmet. Where before the claws on the gloves had easily marked the strange metal without effort, now your full strength cannot open even the smallest tear in the fabric.
You are beginning to hyperventilate. There is no way out. You're trapped in here. Are you going to die in this thing? How can you eat with the helmet in the way? Will you starve to death, slowly, painfully withering away with food in reach but unable to eat it? How can you go back home? How can you explain what happened? Will they even believe that you're you?
You whimper pitifully and your tears flow freely for the second time today. This has to be a dream, no, a nightmare. You remember feeling just like this when you awoke from them as a child. That's what this must be. You're going to awake at any moment, and everything will have been a nightmare. The artifact, this dungeon, the emperor, the war, everything. You're going to wake up any second now, and your mother is going to be there, ready to hold you in her arms, stroke your hair, and tell you how none of this is real. You sob, all alone in this cold, empty room. Please. Someone. Anyone. Help me. I just want out of this thing. "Well, since you asked."
At that thought there is a slight pressure on your chest, and you gasp as it feels like there is a tug on your soul. You whip your head down, and the triangle on your chest is glowing. After a moment you realize the stars on your gloves are too. Sure enough, a glance in the mirror reveals that the black plate on your face is glowing as well, still invisible to your own eyes. You recognize the glow, that same impossibly pure light that was in the center of the sphere.
In one heartbeat the light spreads over the entire suit, enveloping it in concealing light. Another heartbeat later and it recedes, taking the strange pull on your soul with it and revealing that you're back in the exact same outfit you came here in.
Well, not exactly the same. The departing light flows swiftly down your arm, and when it fades entirely it is to reveal that there is now something near your wrist. Made from a material that appears at once both crystalline and metallic, it has a rather simple design. A plain unadorned band wraps around your lower forearm, melding into a small brick of the same. The block is as wide as your forearm, twice as long, and stops just high enough that it doesn't impede your hand's ability to bend backwards. It has a black rectangle on its surface that reminds you of the ones on the podiums and that are covering the walls.
You want it off right now. You've had enough adventure, and you are done with this thing. With the same frantic energy as before you tear at it, though you are driven by rage and frustration now rather than fear and desperation. Just like the infernal fabric of before, there is no release. No clasp to open, too tight to slip out of, and resistant to your best efforts to damage it.
Not that you don't give it a very solid try. You're panting with exertion by the time you stop trying to beat your new passenger against things, and not for the first time you wish you were able to sweat. Stupid scales. You enjoyed the lack of body odor, but there were plenty of times you wanted the extra endurance that comes with it.
You stare up at the ceiling of the dungeon, watching the strange lines occasionally flicker with cyan. In retrospect, you hadn't handled that all that well. Now that you are calmer, you realize that just because you couldn't get it off doesn't mean that nobody could. While it would have been embarrassing, you could have just gone back to town, and they would have called for a wizard or something, and someone would have gotten it off. You were never in any danger. Yeah.
Once you catch your breath, you sit up from where you had collapsed on your back in defeat. So, you now have a new piece of incredibly impractical and unwanted jewelry. This is fine. Anything is better than being in that suit. It would be awkward to explain, but you can handle awkward. Probably.
The armlet gets one more glare before you sigh and push yourself up onto your feet. Nothing to do about it then. You'll just have to go back and face the music. Explain to your brother, your father, and the entire town what had happened. Anxiety warred with excitement within you. The fact that the artifact is attached to you is a bit of a sour point, but maybe you are looking at it wrong.
After all, you'd gotten exactly what you'd been hoping for! An imposing crater, a mysterious dungeon, and a strange and wondrous artifact. Sure, some things you hadn't asked for had happened as well, but maybe you just phrased your wish poorly. And, when you really think about it, maybe this is actually better. You'd wanted to return with a mysterious object in hand, but now that it's on your hand (heh) they wouldn't be able to confiscate it from you! That has to be worth something to the Adventurer's Guild, right? Yeah. Yeah, this is a good thing.
Having successfully convinced yourself, you smooth your skirt once more, lift your head high, and survey the room one last time. Yup, everything just as you remembered. The presence of the closed drawers and the maybe-doors had to be addressed eventually, but there would be time for that later. You'd accomplished your objective and you honestly felt a bit tired after all of this excitement.
So with your back straight and your stride confident, you head back out of the dungeon.
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- Location
- Colorado
Muahahahaha! You fools! You've been pranked! My post earlier this morning that most of you probably haven't even had a chance to read yet was but a clever ruse!
Okay, but in all seriousness. I still want to do voting on Fridays. I like it, it lets me end off my week on a big note, go into the weekend feeling good. But, if you will notice, this chapter doesn't have a vote in it! Haha! And I also plan for that to be a thing going forwards.
Chapter 3 is up and chapter 4 is already done, and it has a bigger vote in it than just what your name is. Expect that to go up this Friday. They were originally one chapter until I realized it got way longer than I intended (once again). I was originally thinking of breaking it up into 3.1 and 3.2 and posting them both on the same day (like I did 1.1 and 1.2). But then I thought that if I post it a few days early, that gives everyone extra time to read it, and shorter, more frequent updates are probably more enjoyable than less frequent walls of text.
So yeah, chapters with votes in them are going to go up on Fridays in the future, and chapters without votes on them will go up any other day of the week, though most likely on Tuesdays. Lets me space them evenly apart in the week, and it also works out for my schedule.
Anyways, enjoy!
Okay, but in all seriousness. I still want to do voting on Fridays. I like it, it lets me end off my week on a big note, go into the weekend feeling good. But, if you will notice, this chapter doesn't have a vote in it! Haha! And I also plan for that to be a thing going forwards.
Chapter 3 is up and chapter 4 is already done, and it has a bigger vote in it than just what your name is. Expect that to go up this Friday. They were originally one chapter until I realized it got way longer than I intended (once again). I was originally thinking of breaking it up into 3.1 and 3.2 and posting them both on the same day (like I did 1.1 and 1.2). But then I thought that if I post it a few days early, that gives everyone extra time to read it, and shorter, more frequent updates are probably more enjoyable than less frequent walls of text.
So yeah, chapters with votes in them are going to go up on Fridays in the future, and chapters without votes on them will go up any other day of the week, though most likely on Tuesdays. Lets me space them evenly apart in the week, and it also works out for my schedule.
Anyways, enjoy!
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4 - Triumphant return
New
- Location
- Colorado
The sun is high and you find yourself momentarily blinded by the sudden light. You squint and raise a hand to cover your eyes. A cold breeze passes over your scales and you shiver, then pull your shawl tighter about your shoulders. Oh, right. You glance back at the doorway behind you, once more an inscrutable portal of darkness. It's warmer in the dungeon than it is out here. I'd forgotten.
You shrug, and begin making your way back out of the crater. You smile to yourself. While you had arrived here timidly, scared of the unknown, you'd faced it and now you were leaving a conqueror (or so you told yourself). Warmth bubbled up in your chest, and your steps felt light and effortless even as you scaled first the rocky sides of the crater and then the slope of the hill.
That warmth carries you over hill after hill as you are lost in your memory of everything that happened, replaying all the details in your head. The warmth doesn't start to waver until you mount a hill and realize you're close enough to begin making out the guard at the post. An immediate shock of nerves lances through your confidence, and you feel your shoulders drop a hair.
With each step your nervousness grows, not enough to overpower your confidence and resolve, but certainly enough to soften its edges. It seemed an easy enough idea a few minutes ago. Just stride into town, declare what you had seen, and show off the new object you carried. Instant recognition, go from an unnoteworthy bookbinding girl to a courageous explorer woman in a matter of seconds.
It seemed like a much more daunting task the closer you got to actually having to follow through with that idea. But you wouldn't back out, not after coming so far. And especially not when the results of your efforts were so obviously displayed on your person.
So when you reach the guardpost your head is still high and your steps do not falter, but you're missing the confident strut you had a minute ago. Instead you walk up to the guard at the post as if it's a perfectly normal day. You raise your arm (the one with the odd jewelry) and wave. "Hello again, Garrett!"
It seems Garrett was woolgathering (typical) and it takes him a moment to look up and find you walking up the road. He nods to you and puts a hand to the brim of his helmet to mime tipping his hat. "Oh. Good day Eliana. Is everything alright? I heard a dreadfully loud noise coming from the forest earlier. No clue what it might have been though."
That makes you draw up short. You blink at him. "Oh, um, yes. I heard it too." You cannot help but ask. "You haven't the slightest idea what it might have been?"
He shakes his head. "No ma'am. Luke came by for a pleasant chat and to offer me some baked goods his wife made. We were busy talking when we both heard the noise. Sounded like thunder, if you can believe it on a clear day like this." He blinked slowly. "Ah, though you said you'd heard it too, didn't you?" He nodded, as if confirming his statement to himself.
"Luke thinks it must have come from the warfront. If we could hear it all the way here, it must have been big." He squirmed a little, like he was supposed to shiver, but couldn't be bothered to do even that properly. "Anyways, when me and Luke turned to look, all we saw was a flock of birds taking off from the forest."
Your smile feels strained. You wish you could say that was unexpected, or that Garrett was being knowingly audacious in his recounting of events. But no, that's just the way Garrett is. Honestly, why did such an easy-going and carefree man decide to be a guard? Explains why he's not on the warfront though. Someone as lackadaisical as him would be thrown out in a day.
You shake your head, and gather your confidence back up. Yes, you knew from some of the science journals you'd penned that sound took time to travel, but this was so ridiculous it still took you a few seconds to come to terms with it. That had put you on the backfoot and you'd lost some momentum, but you could get it back. Smiling more honestly at Garrett once more you proudly proclaim, "Well, that's a shame. Because I had quite the interesting trip to the forest."
Garrett nods neutrally at you, failing to take the bait and taking that statement at face value it seems. "That so? I see. It must have been if you lost your basket."
Your momentum collides with a brick wall and dies once more, your mouth freezing in the process of you beginning to speak. What?? Yup, your hands are empty. When did I- but I had it when- oh blast and damnation. You'd last had it right before the gale had thrown you off your feet, and you hadn't been holding it when you landed. Could you remember what hill that was? Would it even still be there if you could? With resignation you glance down at your empty hand, sadly empty of basket.
And then you doubletake and your eyes bug out of your head. HUH???
Your arm is bare. It's bare and it definitely shouldn't be. WHERE DID IT GO!?!? You shriek internally. You hadn't gone through all of that, hadn't wrestled with a gods be damned bracelet and lost, only for it to fall off without you noticing!!!
You almost whirl around to look back the way you had come from, but catch yourself at the last moment. Hold on… You can still feel the band around your forearm. Can feel the way the material digs into your scales just a bit. But that means- You twist your arm slightly, and just barely catch the faintest shimmer. You would have missed it if you weren't looking for it, or even if you were looking for it and didn't know exactly where to look.
It can turn invisible?!? No, more than that. It can turn invisible without you doing anything. It had turned invisible on its own and wasn't that a concerning thought. You were just going to assume that it was an automatic action, because the idea that the item that was attached to you and you couldn't remove was actually sentient in some way was not something you were equipped to handle right now.
You look back up and meet Garrett's eyes. He's still staring impassively at you, awaiting your response and seemingly entirely unbothered by your actions just now. "Oh, um, uh, I…" You attempt to gather your confidence once more, but it's slipping through your fingers.
In your head it was easier to talk about this than it actually was in reality. And it was easier to make that choice when it was out of your hands, when the thing was incredibly visible and obvious. Now that you were going to have to convince him that you had seen a hill explode AND that it had revealed a buried dungeon AND that you were actually wearing an invisible armband you'd found inside…
On the outside you barely manage to squeak out "I'll tell you about it some time?" while internally you slump in defeat.
Garrett nods his same completely unbothered nod, either failing to notice your discomfort or failing to care about it. "Well, I look forward to that then. You have a nice day, Eliana."
You nod listlessly back at him and slouch off back to town. Well, that was a bust. You can't believe that the one person (or, you suppose, two people) in position to witness the hill exploding– aside from yourself –had failed to see anything. And that this stupid piece of jewelry had decided to turn itself invisible so you'd have to have people touch it if you didn't want them to think you were crazy. Assuming they don't think I'm crazy when I tell them to feel up my arm.
You just wanted to vent at someone right now. And if you were going to vent you knew exactly who to vent to. You adjust your path, destination in mind.
There was one person you could think of. One person who you trusted to know as much or as little as you wanted. Someone that if you told them everything, well, they might be skeptical at first, but they'd believe you eventually. And if you decided you didn't want to tell them anything, just that you had a rough morning and to leave it at that, then they wouldn't ask questions. Yeah, there was only one person for this job.
And that person is...
[][Confidant] a girl around your own age.
[][Confidant] a boy around your own age.
[][Confidant] an adult woman.
[][Confidant] an adult man.
[][Confidant] an elderly woman.
[][Confidant] an elderly man.
[][Confidant] your brother.
[][Confidant] your dad. (No.)
[][Confidant] your mom. (Yeah, if only.)
==================================================================================
Another successful chapter in the books. This one is shorter than most, but it was also carved off of a larger chapter and it is longer than it appears due to all the choice descriptions. They took forever to write. Some of them really struggled with me. I knew I wanted the 6 options in 3 paired groups, but I didn't even know at the start what each of their schticks would be. And some took a lot of searching to figure out.
But despite it being the shortest chapter yet, it contains your first plot driving vote (or second if you want to be technical. Being half-dragon won't have any immediate effects on the story, but it will sure be a gradual shaping force over the entire run). So that's a milestone right?
Anyways, I don't have a lot to say here. Wishing you all the best, give your friends a hug, take care of each other in these chaotic times.
You shrug, and begin making your way back out of the crater. You smile to yourself. While you had arrived here timidly, scared of the unknown, you'd faced it and now you were leaving a conqueror (or so you told yourself). Warmth bubbled up in your chest, and your steps felt light and effortless even as you scaled first the rocky sides of the crater and then the slope of the hill.
That warmth carries you over hill after hill as you are lost in your memory of everything that happened, replaying all the details in your head. The warmth doesn't start to waver until you mount a hill and realize you're close enough to begin making out the guard at the post. An immediate shock of nerves lances through your confidence, and you feel your shoulders drop a hair.
With each step your nervousness grows, not enough to overpower your confidence and resolve, but certainly enough to soften its edges. It seemed an easy enough idea a few minutes ago. Just stride into town, declare what you had seen, and show off the new object you carried. Instant recognition, go from an unnoteworthy bookbinding girl to a courageous explorer woman in a matter of seconds.
It seemed like a much more daunting task the closer you got to actually having to follow through with that idea. But you wouldn't back out, not after coming so far. And especially not when the results of your efforts were so obviously displayed on your person.
So when you reach the guardpost your head is still high and your steps do not falter, but you're missing the confident strut you had a minute ago. Instead you walk up to the guard at the post as if it's a perfectly normal day. You raise your arm (the one with the odd jewelry) and wave. "Hello again, Garrett!"
It seems Garrett was woolgathering (typical) and it takes him a moment to look up and find you walking up the road. He nods to you and puts a hand to the brim of his helmet to mime tipping his hat. "Oh. Good day Eliana. Is everything alright? I heard a dreadfully loud noise coming from the forest earlier. No clue what it might have been though."
That makes you draw up short. You blink at him. "Oh, um, yes. I heard it too." You cannot help but ask. "You haven't the slightest idea what it might have been?"
He shakes his head. "No ma'am. Luke came by for a pleasant chat and to offer me some baked goods his wife made. We were busy talking when we both heard the noise. Sounded like thunder, if you can believe it on a clear day like this." He blinked slowly. "Ah, though you said you'd heard it too, didn't you?" He nodded, as if confirming his statement to himself.
"Luke thinks it must have come from the warfront. If we could hear it all the way here, it must have been big." He squirmed a little, like he was supposed to shiver, but couldn't be bothered to do even that properly. "Anyways, when me and Luke turned to look, all we saw was a flock of birds taking off from the forest."
Your smile feels strained. You wish you could say that was unexpected, or that Garrett was being knowingly audacious in his recounting of events. But no, that's just the way Garrett is. Honestly, why did such an easy-going and carefree man decide to be a guard? Explains why he's not on the warfront though. Someone as lackadaisical as him would be thrown out in a day.
You shake your head, and gather your confidence back up. Yes, you knew from some of the science journals you'd penned that sound took time to travel, but this was so ridiculous it still took you a few seconds to come to terms with it. That had put you on the backfoot and you'd lost some momentum, but you could get it back. Smiling more honestly at Garrett once more you proudly proclaim, "Well, that's a shame. Because I had quite the interesting trip to the forest."
Garrett nods neutrally at you, failing to take the bait and taking that statement at face value it seems. "That so? I see. It must have been if you lost your basket."
Your momentum collides with a brick wall and dies once more, your mouth freezing in the process of you beginning to speak. What?? Yup, your hands are empty. When did I- but I had it when- oh blast and damnation. You'd last had it right before the gale had thrown you off your feet, and you hadn't been holding it when you landed. Could you remember what hill that was? Would it even still be there if you could? With resignation you glance down at your empty hand, sadly empty of basket.
And then you doubletake and your eyes bug out of your head. HUH???
Your arm is bare. It's bare and it definitely shouldn't be. WHERE DID IT GO!?!? You shriek internally. You hadn't gone through all of that, hadn't wrestled with a gods be damned bracelet and lost, only for it to fall off without you noticing!!!
You almost whirl around to look back the way you had come from, but catch yourself at the last moment. Hold on… You can still feel the band around your forearm. Can feel the way the material digs into your scales just a bit. But that means- You twist your arm slightly, and just barely catch the faintest shimmer. You would have missed it if you weren't looking for it, or even if you were looking for it and didn't know exactly where to look.
It can turn invisible?!? No, more than that. It can turn invisible without you doing anything. It had turned invisible on its own and wasn't that a concerning thought. You were just going to assume that it was an automatic action, because the idea that the item that was attached to you and you couldn't remove was actually sentient in some way was not something you were equipped to handle right now.
You look back up and meet Garrett's eyes. He's still staring impassively at you, awaiting your response and seemingly entirely unbothered by your actions just now. "Oh, um, uh, I…" You attempt to gather your confidence once more, but it's slipping through your fingers.
In your head it was easier to talk about this than it actually was in reality. And it was easier to make that choice when it was out of your hands, when the thing was incredibly visible and obvious. Now that you were going to have to convince him that you had seen a hill explode AND that it had revealed a buried dungeon AND that you were actually wearing an invisible armband you'd found inside…
On the outside you barely manage to squeak out "I'll tell you about it some time?" while internally you slump in defeat.
Garrett nods his same completely unbothered nod, either failing to notice your discomfort or failing to care about it. "Well, I look forward to that then. You have a nice day, Eliana."
You nod listlessly back at him and slouch off back to town. Well, that was a bust. You can't believe that the one person (or, you suppose, two people) in position to witness the hill exploding– aside from yourself –had failed to see anything. And that this stupid piece of jewelry had decided to turn itself invisible so you'd have to have people touch it if you didn't want them to think you were crazy. Assuming they don't think I'm crazy when I tell them to feel up my arm.
You just wanted to vent at someone right now. And if you were going to vent you knew exactly who to vent to. You adjust your path, destination in mind.
There was one person you could think of. One person who you trusted to know as much or as little as you wanted. Someone that if you told them everything, well, they might be skeptical at first, but they'd believe you eventually. And if you decided you didn't want to tell them anything, just that you had a rough morning and to leave it at that, then they wouldn't ask questions. Yeah, there was only one person for this job.
In this world, you shall have one confidant. At least, only one for now. I won't stop you from gathering allies.
Eliana has friends. Not a whole lot, but some. That's not what this list is. Anyone on this list that you don't choose will not be added to your friends. Those you don't choose will become acquaintances, neither close nor far (well, except for one. That person should be immediately obvious). Eliana's friends are people she has history with. Eliana likes her friends (to a degree). Eliana believes in her friends (to a degree). Eliana trusts her friends (to a degree). She might be right to do so.
She might be wrong to.
Eliana's friends will have her back if she confides in them. They won't suddenly reveal they were evil the whole time and try to murder her in her sleep, but the wrong friend might have loose lips. Depending on the friend they might let your secret slip if they are threatened, or to someone they are trying to impress, or to your dad. And then that could have its own consequences.
Your confidant is not the same as a friend. Which is not to say that they won't be a friend. Some of these confidants– if chosen –will be friends, some will be mentors, some will be something else.
A confidant is a tool, given by me to you readers. You're going into a lot of this blind, trying to feel out a world through the eyes of an unreliable narrator. So I'm giving you certain assurances, certain points of reference to build out from.
A confidant is someone you– dear readers –can trust, at least with your secrets. A confidant will not let anything slip, no matter the consequences. Nothing else is assured but their silence. You might be able to get them to help out, depending on the help you ask for. They will almost certainly have opinions. Depending on what you tell them they may try to convince Eliana to act one way or another, most likely out of concern. Depending on the ask, you may have to make Resolve rolls to resist their social pressure (assuming you don't want to follow their advice). But no matter what they do to try to convince Eliana, you can at least be certain it won't involve anything like contacting the authorities.
You can gain more confidants. Your friends are probably a good place to start. Some may even be close to tipping over already. If they aren't a confidant then all that means is that there is some chance they might let your secret slip, even if that chance is miniscule. When any character becomes a confidant I shall update their character sheet accordingly. Eliana won't know the difference, but you will.
You can also lose confidants, even your starting one. They trust you, and you trust them, but trust can be damaged. They are a precious tool. Handle them with care.
Eliana has friends. Not a whole lot, but some. That's not what this list is. Anyone on this list that you don't choose will not be added to your friends. Those you don't choose will become acquaintances, neither close nor far (well, except for one. That person should be immediately obvious). Eliana's friends are people she has history with. Eliana likes her friends (to a degree). Eliana believes in her friends (to a degree). Eliana trusts her friends (to a degree). She might be right to do so.
She might be wrong to.
Eliana's friends will have her back if she confides in them. They won't suddenly reveal they were evil the whole time and try to murder her in her sleep, but the wrong friend might have loose lips. Depending on the friend they might let your secret slip if they are threatened, or to someone they are trying to impress, or to your dad. And then that could have its own consequences.
Your confidant is not the same as a friend. Which is not to say that they won't be a friend. Some of these confidants– if chosen –will be friends, some will be mentors, some will be something else.
A confidant is a tool, given by me to you readers. You're going into a lot of this blind, trying to feel out a world through the eyes of an unreliable narrator. So I'm giving you certain assurances, certain points of reference to build out from.
A confidant is someone you– dear readers –can trust, at least with your secrets. A confidant will not let anything slip, no matter the consequences. Nothing else is assured but their silence. You might be able to get them to help out, depending on the help you ask for. They will almost certainly have opinions. Depending on what you tell them they may try to convince Eliana to act one way or another, most likely out of concern. Depending on the ask, you may have to make Resolve rolls to resist their social pressure (assuming you don't want to follow their advice). But no matter what they do to try to convince Eliana, you can at least be certain it won't involve anything like contacting the authorities.
You can gain more confidants. Your friends are probably a good place to start. Some may even be close to tipping over already. If they aren't a confidant then all that means is that there is some chance they might let your secret slip, even if that chance is miniscule. When any character becomes a confidant I shall update their character sheet accordingly. Eliana won't know the difference, but you will.
You can also lose confidants, even your starting one. They trust you, and you trust them, but trust can be damaged. They are a precious tool. Handle them with care.
And that person is...
[][Confidant] a girl around your own age.
- Her biography if she is chosen as your confidant
- Her biography if she is not chosen
[][Confidant] a boy around your own age.
- His biography if he is chosen as your confidant
- His biography if he is not chosen
[][Confidant] an adult woman.
- Her biography if she is chosen as your confidant
- Her biography if she is not chosen
[][Confidant] an adult man.
- His biography if he is chosen as your confidant
- His biography if he is not chosen
[][Confidant] an elderly woman.
- Her biography if she is chosen as your confidant
- Her biography if she is not chosen
[][Confidant] an elderly man.
- His biography if he is chosen as your confidant
- His biography if he is not chosen
[][Confidant] your brother.
- Addition to his biography if he is chosen as your confidant
- Addition to his biography if he is not chosen
==================================================================================
Another successful chapter in the books. This one is shorter than most, but it was also carved off of a larger chapter and it is longer than it appears due to all the choice descriptions. They took forever to write. Some of them really struggled with me. I knew I wanted the 6 options in 3 paired groups, but I didn't even know at the start what each of their schticks would be. And some took a lot of searching to figure out.
But despite it being the shortest chapter yet, it contains your first plot driving vote (or second if you want to be technical. Being half-dragon won't have any immediate effects on the story, but it will sure be a gradual shaping force over the entire run). So that's a milestone right?
Anyways, I don't have a lot to say here. Wishing you all the best, give your friends a hug, take care of each other in these chaotic times.
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[x][Confidant] a girl around your own age.
Voting for lesbians. Plus having an informant in the market scene is very helpful.
Voting for lesbians. Plus having an informant in the market scene is very helpful.
[X][Confidant] a girl around your own age.
[X][Confidant] a boy around your own age.
[X][Confidant] your brother.
[X][Confidant] a boy around your own age.
[X][Confidant] your brother.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X][Confidant] a girl around your own age.
- Location
- Milky Way
[X][Confidant] a girl around your own age.
[X][Confidant] an elderly man.
[X][Confidant] an elderly woman.
[X][Confidant] your brother.
[X][Confidant] an elderly man.
[X][Confidant] an elderly woman.
[X][Confidant] your brother.