Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
We also have that Grimm Plague to worry about, which will almost certainly become worse as people panic because their lord was nearly killed.
The Torches Rise (RWBY/CKII, After The End)
Cmd. Frost
The last one standing.
- Location
- The Summer Stretch
Every second another fire, right?
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
Raiu
Per Aspera Ad Astra
- Location
- United States
*snerk*
I see you didn't see my hint. Heh. Heh. Heh.
The Chaos Die has changed it's rules. Under new management. In fact, you could say it's easier to do now. Also, screw RNGsus, you guys put him up on a stick. Dice Gods all the way.
I knew I was forgetting to add something. Medicine is a subtype of Before Times research, which unlocks at Before Times 2, along with a slew of other technologies. That being said, there are ways to skip technology requirements, which means I get to reveal the fact you have Medicine 1 due to Dr. Nail's presence. Medical care has advanced a bit from bloodletting and leaches, but it's still a very superstitious field, as Dr. Nail's theory pretty much boils down to tiny Grimm Demons smaller than the eye can see attacks the body from within, causing illnesses. Sanitation is... Well, some doctors like to wipe the pus off of their lancing needles.
The Merchant of Mistral by CthulhuWasRight
CthuluWasRight
Fresh Meat for the SV Grinder
- Location
- Canada
*Ahem*
The Merchant of Mistral
Your name is Portia Dell'Alba, and you doubt that you could be any more frustrated with your current predicament than you are now. You stare fixedly, furiously at the fleet of trade ships moored in Salania Harbor, sails furled and holds empty. Idle and useless, just like your idiot brother who is content to fritter away the wealth your father had spent his life accruing, letting one of the greatest merchant fleets in all of Mistral rot away. You yearn to leave the house, to visit the bustling market and find sailors, cargo, investors, to put your father's legacy to work and ensure the Dell'Alba family retained primacy among Salania's merchants.
If only.
If only you were permitted to leave. If only you could at least write letters and have a look at the family ledgers. If only you could at least get away, far away from Salania, this elegant prison of a mansion whose air seems perpetually alive with the muffled sounds of your brother enjoying the finest perfumed tarts that the city's brothels had to offer, away from this spectacle of your family's decay and ruin. If only you could marry someone without having to abide by this bloody ridiculous bargain.
Behind you stand three caskets, their shape as familiar to you as your family's own sigil, one made of ostentatious gold, one of sleek, elegant silver, and one of dull lead. Inside one of them waits your portrait, a symbol of your family's blessing to marry; within the other two lie rather patronizing poems. You can only be married when your suitor chooses the correct one. Your father, always a fountain of youthful energy and exuberance, had come to fear for his precious daughter's virtue as he grew older, and left you with this; these caskets, ready-made and presented to you on the day of the reading of his will, along with the command that you were to remain within the family estate, unmarried, until a suitor chose the correct casket. The business, to your utter shock, had passed to Rafaelo, your debauched, lazy drunkard of a brother. And so, here you are. Waiting.
At first there was a flood of suitors. You were absolutely amazed that such a healthy chunk of the Hyliodoran Republic's most eligible bachelors all tried and failed to choose the correct casket. You fought the urge to scream at them to just pick the bloody lead casket for a change, but a provision in your father's will left your tongue tied; to offer advice to any suitor would result in your being disowned. Now, the flood has faded from a thin stream, to an intermittent trickle, to a few scattered drops; the dregs of Mistral, and a few interested parties from outside of the continent.
One of those men is here today; Cilmi of Donna had not made any great production of his arrival, simply turning up with a small entourage and an offer of marriage. He is not a warlike man; when you first met him he was actually reading in the saddle from some great leather-bound tome as he rode into the estate, holding up a hand to quiet the servant who went to greet him, carefully marking his place before closing his book to look up and take in his surroundings. His eyes had met yours where you watched from a balcony, combing through your features as you did likewise. He was gaunt and lean, with his hair a messy tangle that matched the air of distracted carelessness that surrounded him. A dreaming scholar, with his head in the clouds. Better than nothing, you supposed
That had changed when your eyes had met. Something about the way he inspected you... You are aware you have reasonably attractive features, and some of your suitors had even gone so far as to call you beautiful, but he seemed to give your looks nothing more than a once-over, more focused on... Well, all of you. His emerald-green eyes were probing, questioning, seeming to cut right to your soul as he examined you. For just a heartbeat, you felt like a piece of meat.
But the feeling lasted no longer than that. You were a merchant's daughter, and no stranger to weighing the goods in front of you, so you appraised him in turn. Attractive enough, you supposed, hardly a raw slab of muscle like the warriors who'd sought your hand before, but his lean frame complimented his features well. You took note of the way he scanned his surroundings; he was clearly more attentive then he let on, yet your servant seemed completely beneath his notice. Not in the sense that he was turning up his nose at a commoner; he just appeared to have utterly dismissed the man as a factor. And in those emerald eyes of his gleamed a curious energy, one that plainly propelled him as he nimbly dismounted. You stared at each other for a moment longer before he nodded and turned at once to the servant, uttering a few clipped sentences that you were too distant to make out before he tucked his book under his arm, handed your groomsman the reigns of his horse, and headed inside.
You have not seen him since then, but you can hear his approach, his footsteps muffled slightly by the carpet as he approaches the room. "Right this way, sir Cilmi." your butler says, opening the door and ushering him in. You turn as the butler makes his way out, leaving the two of you alone in the room. For a moment, there is silence.
Cilmi takes in the silk trappings of the room, the flickering candles, the three caskets on their altars that had daunted so many men before him. He scoffs. "Begging my lady's pardon, but is this quite necessary?"
You smile, appreciative that someone else is fed up with all the pageantry involved in this farce of a ceremony. "It is a bit much, isn't it? My apologies, Knight Cilmi, but my father's will insists on this. He had the room furnished and prepared before his death." The Knight bows his head, though you can practically hear him rolling his eyes as he responds. "Yes, well, I'd much rather have simply had the caskets brought out and inspected them in the courtyard, but your servant insisted we wait." He paces towards the gold casket, inspecting it carefully. "It must be very dull, having to sit through all this... Ritual for every suitor. Your father had these caskets ready made, I take it?"
You are about to respond when he suddenly reaches over to grab a candle, then drops to one knee and holds it up to the golden casket's keyhole, peering closely at the metal. Then he stands, takes a few places back, mimes laying a hand on the casket, though his fingers do not touch the metal. He squints at the burnished gold. You cannot contain your curiosity. "Um..." You begin, but he holds up a hand to stop you.
"My apologies, Lady Dell'Alba, but I need to concentrate, and I would prefer silence." He idly scratches his scalp as he moves to the silver casket. "I do wish the will had called for better lighting in here." he mutters, once more squatting to inspect the silver casket's keyhole. Heavy silence hangs in the air... At least until you hear a faint, regular thumping sound from the room above you, combined with the sounds of a woman who most definitely is not Rafaelo's wife. Cilmi glances up in annoyance at the same time you do. You feel your face flush as you give him an apologetic shrug. "My brother Rafaelo, Lord Cilmi. One moment, I shall quiet him." You open the window and lean out, craning your neck to look up to your brother's window.
"Rafaelo" you say, letting your voice carry. "When you are quite finished with Mariya, please give her my regards, and ask her if the apothecary has had much success in treating that pox of hers." You hear a gasp, followed by dead silence, and do your best to contain a smug smile. You nod your head serenely. "Continue, Sir Cilmi."
The Knight needs only a few more moments with the silver casket, and barely glances at the keyhole before he lets out a hmn and nods to himself. He straightens up, sets the candle down on a side table and turns to you. "Are you prepared to make your choice, Lord Cilmi?" you ask, but he shakes his head, though you can see the certainty in his eyes when he glances at the caskets. 'He knows.' you think. 'He knows which casket is the right one already. Now he is testing me.'
"If I may ask a few questions first. Tell me, Miss Dell'Alba, do you have a library on the estate?" You nod. "Yes, a fairly substantial one, though mostly filled with maps, charts and ledgers. The remainder are generally travel guides, books of advice for merchants and politicians, and the occasional biography. My father thought them useful things for a merchant to know."
"Have you read many of them?" Cilmi asks, taking a step towards you. You nod. "I have read all of the guides and a good portion of the other books. I enjoy a good read, and there is little else for me to do on the estate." Cilmi smiles at that, some unreadable expression flashing in his eyes. "What of history, or the sciences? What of the Before Times?" he says, and at this you shrug. "Of the sciences I confess I know little. I know much of the history of Mistral, though we have few sources from before the Fall. I had meant to acquire more books, but my father's will prevented that." The Knight nods, pacing over to the glass cabinet that holds the keys.
"I hold a county in Menagerie." he says. "My lands are currently struggling after a plague, followed by civil war. I have heard stories of your skill with lien, but fixing my province would be difficult even for you." At this he pauses, staring out of the window at the sparkling waters of the ocean. "If I choose correctly, will you be willing to leave Salania and come with me?"
That gives you pause as you take in the sea air, hear the bustle of the docks and the cries of the gulls. But then you examine the gaudy furnishings of this damned room, turn to face the rotting triremes in the harbor, and by the gods, Rafaelo seems to have decided to carry on with that woman of his regardless of her condition.
"Yes." you say. Cilmi only nods silently. Without a word, he opens the glass case, and your heart does a curious sort of dance as he picks up the key to the lead casket. You take a moment to consider the sheer confidence that fills him as he strides to the casket and swiftly opens the lock. He is utterly certain of his choice. He pauses as the lid swings open, then snatches up a wooden frame and holds it up to the sunlight.
"A portrait." he says, quiet triumph filling his voice, and you almost feel as if some force is pulling you closer to him, until you are able to hold out a hand. "You have chosen correctly, sir." you say, feeling slightly out of breath. "Will you have my hand in marriage?"
Cilmi makes no speeches, simply nods and takes your hand. Good. You have been trapped here long enough, you just wish it to be over. "I shall send word to Maskax telling them to prepare for a wedding. If it is alright with you, Lady Portia, I would like to depart as soon as possible. I dislike leaving my home for too long." Some note of trepidation creeps into his voice. "Unless, of course, your father's will insists that you be married here?"
You wince. If Cilmi was frustrated by even a day's delay, he will doubtless be put out by having to wait at least a week to prepare even a small wedding. However... You don't wish to delay either. The both of you are old maids by Carrion Lord standards. Once more you examine his lean frame, his bookish features. Perhaps... Perhaps there is a way around this. You are a merchant, after all; finding loopholes is a way of life for you.
"Unfortunately, my father stated that my suitor and I must at the very least be formally engaged before departing." Cilmi's eyes flash like daggers, and doubtless he is about to respond with some sarcastic wit when you lay a hand upon his chest. "However..." you say, giving him your most charming smile as you feel him go very, very still. "I understand that time is short for you, and I am sick of waiting... So perhaps consummation could be seen as sufficient proof of engagement."
For once an element of surprise cuts through his lofty stare. He seems to be trying to say words, but in the end he can only nod. You feel your smile broaden. Later you will get to know this strange new knight of Menagerie, and understand the fire that burns behind his eyes. But for now, it's his turn to feel like a piece of meat.
"Wonderful." You say, and mean it.
If only.
If only you were permitted to leave. If only you could at least write letters and have a look at the family ledgers. If only you could at least get away, far away from Salania, this elegant prison of a mansion whose air seems perpetually alive with the muffled sounds of your brother enjoying the finest perfumed tarts that the city's brothels had to offer, away from this spectacle of your family's decay and ruin. If only you could marry someone without having to abide by this bloody ridiculous bargain.
Behind you stand three caskets, their shape as familiar to you as your family's own sigil, one made of ostentatious gold, one of sleek, elegant silver, and one of dull lead. Inside one of them waits your portrait, a symbol of your family's blessing to marry; within the other two lie rather patronizing poems. You can only be married when your suitor chooses the correct one. Your father, always a fountain of youthful energy and exuberance, had come to fear for his precious daughter's virtue as he grew older, and left you with this; these caskets, ready-made and presented to you on the day of the reading of his will, along with the command that you were to remain within the family estate, unmarried, until a suitor chose the correct casket. The business, to your utter shock, had passed to Rafaelo, your debauched, lazy drunkard of a brother. And so, here you are. Waiting.
At first there was a flood of suitors. You were absolutely amazed that such a healthy chunk of the Hyliodoran Republic's most eligible bachelors all tried and failed to choose the correct casket. You fought the urge to scream at them to just pick the bloody lead casket for a change, but a provision in your father's will left your tongue tied; to offer advice to any suitor would result in your being disowned. Now, the flood has faded from a thin stream, to an intermittent trickle, to a few scattered drops; the dregs of Mistral, and a few interested parties from outside of the continent.
One of those men is here today; Cilmi of Donna had not made any great production of his arrival, simply turning up with a small entourage and an offer of marriage. He is not a warlike man; when you first met him he was actually reading in the saddle from some great leather-bound tome as he rode into the estate, holding up a hand to quiet the servant who went to greet him, carefully marking his place before closing his book to look up and take in his surroundings. His eyes had met yours where you watched from a balcony, combing through your features as you did likewise. He was gaunt and lean, with his hair a messy tangle that matched the air of distracted carelessness that surrounded him. A dreaming scholar, with his head in the clouds. Better than nothing, you supposed
That had changed when your eyes had met. Something about the way he inspected you... You are aware you have reasonably attractive features, and some of your suitors had even gone so far as to call you beautiful, but he seemed to give your looks nothing more than a once-over, more focused on... Well, all of you. His emerald-green eyes were probing, questioning, seeming to cut right to your soul as he examined you. For just a heartbeat, you felt like a piece of meat.
But the feeling lasted no longer than that. You were a merchant's daughter, and no stranger to weighing the goods in front of you, so you appraised him in turn. Attractive enough, you supposed, hardly a raw slab of muscle like the warriors who'd sought your hand before, but his lean frame complimented his features well. You took note of the way he scanned his surroundings; he was clearly more attentive then he let on, yet your servant seemed completely beneath his notice. Not in the sense that he was turning up his nose at a commoner; he just appeared to have utterly dismissed the man as a factor. And in those emerald eyes of his gleamed a curious energy, one that plainly propelled him as he nimbly dismounted. You stared at each other for a moment longer before he nodded and turned at once to the servant, uttering a few clipped sentences that you were too distant to make out before he tucked his book under his arm, handed your groomsman the reigns of his horse, and headed inside.
You have not seen him since then, but you can hear his approach, his footsteps muffled slightly by the carpet as he approaches the room. "Right this way, sir Cilmi." your butler says, opening the door and ushering him in. You turn as the butler makes his way out, leaving the two of you alone in the room. For a moment, there is silence.
Cilmi takes in the silk trappings of the room, the flickering candles, the three caskets on their altars that had daunted so many men before him. He scoffs. "Begging my lady's pardon, but is this quite necessary?"
You smile, appreciative that someone else is fed up with all the pageantry involved in this farce of a ceremony. "It is a bit much, isn't it? My apologies, Knight Cilmi, but my father's will insists on this. He had the room furnished and prepared before his death." The Knight bows his head, though you can practically hear him rolling his eyes as he responds. "Yes, well, I'd much rather have simply had the caskets brought out and inspected them in the courtyard, but your servant insisted we wait." He paces towards the gold casket, inspecting it carefully. "It must be very dull, having to sit through all this... Ritual for every suitor. Your father had these caskets ready made, I take it?"
You are about to respond when he suddenly reaches over to grab a candle, then drops to one knee and holds it up to the golden casket's keyhole, peering closely at the metal. Then he stands, takes a few places back, mimes laying a hand on the casket, though his fingers do not touch the metal. He squints at the burnished gold. You cannot contain your curiosity. "Um..." You begin, but he holds up a hand to stop you.
"My apologies, Lady Dell'Alba, but I need to concentrate, and I would prefer silence." He idly scratches his scalp as he moves to the silver casket. "I do wish the will had called for better lighting in here." he mutters, once more squatting to inspect the silver casket's keyhole. Heavy silence hangs in the air... At least until you hear a faint, regular thumping sound from the room above you, combined with the sounds of a woman who most definitely is not Rafaelo's wife. Cilmi glances up in annoyance at the same time you do. You feel your face flush as you give him an apologetic shrug. "My brother Rafaelo, Lord Cilmi. One moment, I shall quiet him." You open the window and lean out, craning your neck to look up to your brother's window.
"Rafaelo" you say, letting your voice carry. "When you are quite finished with Mariya, please give her my regards, and ask her if the apothecary has had much success in treating that pox of hers." You hear a gasp, followed by dead silence, and do your best to contain a smug smile. You nod your head serenely. "Continue, Sir Cilmi."
The Knight needs only a few more moments with the silver casket, and barely glances at the keyhole before he lets out a hmn and nods to himself. He straightens up, sets the candle down on a side table and turns to you. "Are you prepared to make your choice, Lord Cilmi?" you ask, but he shakes his head, though you can see the certainty in his eyes when he glances at the caskets. 'He knows.' you think. 'He knows which casket is the right one already. Now he is testing me.'
"If I may ask a few questions first. Tell me, Miss Dell'Alba, do you have a library on the estate?" You nod. "Yes, a fairly substantial one, though mostly filled with maps, charts and ledgers. The remainder are generally travel guides, books of advice for merchants and politicians, and the occasional biography. My father thought them useful things for a merchant to know."
"Have you read many of them?" Cilmi asks, taking a step towards you. You nod. "I have read all of the guides and a good portion of the other books. I enjoy a good read, and there is little else for me to do on the estate." Cilmi smiles at that, some unreadable expression flashing in his eyes. "What of history, or the sciences? What of the Before Times?" he says, and at this you shrug. "Of the sciences I confess I know little. I know much of the history of Mistral, though we have few sources from before the Fall. I had meant to acquire more books, but my father's will prevented that." The Knight nods, pacing over to the glass cabinet that holds the keys.
"I hold a county in Menagerie." he says. "My lands are currently struggling after a plague, followed by civil war. I have heard stories of your skill with lien, but fixing my province would be difficult even for you." At this he pauses, staring out of the window at the sparkling waters of the ocean. "If I choose correctly, will you be willing to leave Salania and come with me?"
That gives you pause as you take in the sea air, hear the bustle of the docks and the cries of the gulls. But then you examine the gaudy furnishings of this damned room, turn to face the rotting triremes in the harbor, and by the gods, Rafaelo seems to have decided to carry on with that woman of his regardless of her condition.
"Yes." you say. Cilmi only nods silently. Without a word, he opens the glass case, and your heart does a curious sort of dance as he picks up the key to the lead casket. You take a moment to consider the sheer confidence that fills him as he strides to the casket and swiftly opens the lock. He is utterly certain of his choice. He pauses as the lid swings open, then snatches up a wooden frame and holds it up to the sunlight.
"A portrait." he says, quiet triumph filling his voice, and you almost feel as if some force is pulling you closer to him, until you are able to hold out a hand. "You have chosen correctly, sir." you say, feeling slightly out of breath. "Will you have my hand in marriage?"
Cilmi makes no speeches, simply nods and takes your hand. Good. You have been trapped here long enough, you just wish it to be over. "I shall send word to Maskax telling them to prepare for a wedding. If it is alright with you, Lady Portia, I would like to depart as soon as possible. I dislike leaving my home for too long." Some note of trepidation creeps into his voice. "Unless, of course, your father's will insists that you be married here?"
You wince. If Cilmi was frustrated by even a day's delay, he will doubtless be put out by having to wait at least a week to prepare even a small wedding. However... You don't wish to delay either. The both of you are old maids by Carrion Lord standards. Once more you examine his lean frame, his bookish features. Perhaps... Perhaps there is a way around this. You are a merchant, after all; finding loopholes is a way of life for you.
"Unfortunately, my father stated that my suitor and I must at the very least be formally engaged before departing." Cilmi's eyes flash like daggers, and doubtless he is about to respond with some sarcastic wit when you lay a hand upon his chest. "However..." you say, giving him your most charming smile as you feel him go very, very still. "I understand that time is short for you, and I am sick of waiting... So perhaps consummation could be seen as sufficient proof of engagement."
For once an element of surprise cuts through his lofty stare. He seems to be trying to say words, but in the end he can only nod. You feel your smile broaden. Later you will get to know this strange new knight of Menagerie, and understand the fire that burns behind his eyes. But for now, it's his turn to feel like a piece of meat.
"Wonderful." You say, and mean it.
Last edited:
Cmd. Frost
The last one standing.
- Location
- The Summer Stretch
Interesting, also damn it Cthulu. The time I start writing an omake, don't you have a quest to work on?
Raiu
Per Aspera Ad Astra
- Location
- United States
And CthuluWasRight, the maestro of manuscripts, doth grace us with his words. Bravo, good sir, bravo.
Joking aside, nicely done. I always love getting shown up by you, if only because your work is always a joy to read.
As always, a question answered, a story given, knowledge of one's peers, or a boon?
Portia Dell'Alba Donna
Knight Cilmi of Donna
A Vision of Another Age
Knight Cilmi of Donna
A Vision of Another Age
However, since some time has passed since I last granted a reward, you may choose two options, one of which may be spent on the following vote.
[] Truth's Touch
[] The Sleeper's Dream
[] Foreign Faiths and Familiar Coin
Only CWR can vote on this. Anyone else will be lightly scolded.
CthuluWasRight
Fresh Meat for the SV Grinder
- Location
- Canada
Marriage vote closes tomorrow, so I can't work on the marriage interlude until then. Also, you can't just put that kind of perfect omake-fodder in front of me and expect me not to take that bait.
CthuluWasRight
Fresh Meat for the SV Grinder
- Location
- Canada
[X] Knight Cilmi of Donna
[X] Foreign faiths, familiar coin
And while I'm at it
[X] Huntsman Marco, the Hound of the Strausbergs
Let's see what we learn...
Cmd. Frost
The last one standing.
- Location
- The Summer Stretch
It's your choice CWR but I'm pretty sure we could get all of those with an investigate action, exept from Faith and Coins.
I don't see a way for us to get whatever Skye's dreaming about or whatever the "truth" is. Then again knowing you, this is probably just so you can show us all up with more omakes.
Also wasn't Skye pregnant? That's going to be weird.
I don't see a way for us to get whatever Skye's dreaming about or whatever the "truth" is. Then again knowing you, this is probably just so you can show us all up with more omakes.
Also wasn't Skye pregnant? That's going to be weird.
Raiu
Per Aspera Ad Astra
- Location
- United States
The contract is sealed.
And for audacity, I'll allow the Marco character sheet.
They're not actions. They're Events.
And I hadn't updated the character sheet for everything of Turn 6, so no. She wasn't. It's only weird if you really want to get those fertility pulsesandI'mjustgoingtostoptalkingnowbecause EW.
Cmd. Frost
The last one standing.
- Location
- The Summer Stretch
Oh, my mistake then. OH SHIT I HAVE CLASSES IN THE MORNING BYE!
- Location
- USA
Okay that was a touch too obvious. We OOC know who G is and the person who has made moves against us. Granted, I've got no idea who Glory is, but we can find that our later.
Raiu
Per Aspera Ad Astra
- Location
- United States
And Blonddude continues to use his brain.
CthuluWasRight
Fresh Meat for the SV Grinder
- Location
- Canada
Oh my God I hadn't even noticed that. Nice work, detective Blonddude!
- Location
- USA
It helped that I was a bit behind so I read them back to back. You don't need to try too hard to hid something when you don't expect things to be read together.
Cmd. Frost
The last one standing.
- Location
- The Summer Stretch
Damn, nice catch dude.
Also I'm pretty sure that "You tried to murder my wife" counts as a valid Casus Belli. Glory is going to die painfully.
Glory's the guy that ran our name through the mud after the hospital, we revealed as a lying coward, then probably spread the rumors about us charging absurd rates for the cure, and finally as you know, tried to murder Skye.
Additionally, we have a new huntsman to promise for the expedition, A GIRL WHO WAS AROUND BEFORE THE FALL, and super purified dust.
Lastly, Dr. Merlot has the trait Augmented. At the time we all thought that meant he was a cyborg. However he also has Grimm Studies, Lunatic, Experimental Fetish, No Price Too Large and The Experiments Must Go On.
Everyone this fucker's half grimm and all crazy, we need to start boosting our hunters.
Also I'm pretty sure that "You tried to murder my wife" counts as a valid Casus Belli. Glory is going to die painfully.
Glory's the guy that ran our name through the mud after the hospital, we revealed as a lying coward, then probably spread the rumors about us charging absurd rates for the cure, and finally as you know, tried to murder Skye.
Additionally, we have a new huntsman to promise for the expedition, A GIRL WHO WAS AROUND BEFORE THE FALL, and super purified dust.
Lastly, Dr. Merlot has the trait Augmented. At the time we all thought that meant he was a cyborg. However he also has Grimm Studies, Lunatic, Experimental Fetish, No Price Too Large and The Experiments Must Go On.
Everyone this fucker's half grimm and all crazy, we need to start boosting our hunters.
Last edited:
- Location
- Nebraska
Now that you bring this up it reminds me that I asked @Raiu about Merlot's augments and if he was still kicking because of them which Raiu said that it wasn't possible with augments ALONE to survive this long foolish in hindsight that I assumed a man like Merlot would only stop at augments.
Raiu
Per Aspera Ad Astra
- Location
- United States
Oh I feel so happy my readers and proofreaders remember my hints.
I might as well confirm that, even with augments or vile sorceries, man cannot survive over five hundred thousand nights, nor can they survive more than fifty thousand nights. Time abhors the immortal, and neither flesh nor circuitry can last active for so long.
I am stuck between giving you an Insightful rating or a Funny rating... Let's go with funny.
I might as well confirm that, even with augments or vile sorceries, man cannot survive over five hundred thousand nights, nor can they survive more than fifty thousand nights. Time abhors the immortal, and neither flesh nor circuitry can last active for so long.
I am stuck between giving you an Insightful rating or a Funny rating... Let's go with funny.
- Location
- Nebraska
Well now that you mentioned active I have to ask could Merlot have come up with something similar to the EGG (never got it's actual name) that Ebon was in since he was a genius?
Raiu
Per Aspera Ad Astra
- Location
- United States
You can determine it by asking that question as a reward for an omake.
Yes, that was a shameless shrill. I have absolutely no shame, my dear readers.
Out Of Time, Part 1 by Cmd. Frost
Cmd. Frost
The last one standing.
- Location
- The Summer Stretch
Out Of Time Part 1
One would think that as many times as you've been in a hospital room these last few weeks you would get used to it. The sterile rooms, the constant smell of antiseptic assaulting your nose, the general atmosphere of hopelessness. Although that last one might just be your parents, then again what would you do if your only child was dying and there was nothing you could do about it.
"So, how long do I have?" Your parents are in the other room crying. You would probably be with them, but something about knowing that you're going to die makes it seem pointless. They have time, you don't, why waste it?
"Honestly, we don't know. While your condition isn't rare it certainly isn't a common ailment, and with everything that has been happening it's been difficult to establish a baseline. You may have a few weeks or several months, I'm sorry but we don't know."
"Is there anything that can be done, I'm not the first person to have this so you must have some kind of idea for a treatment" You promised yourself you wouldn't waste your time crying, you've even accepted that you're going to die.
"There are a few options but, none of them are... definite solutions, there's still testing to be do-"
"What are they" Even though everyone dies at some point, you just refuse to go down without a fight.
"Miss Rosewater none of these are ready for genera-"
"I don't care" It's funny the things acceptance can do. It can hold back the tears,give the resolve to finally kiss the boy you've been admiring for a year... and the cheerleader sitting next to him. But the one thing acceptance can't do...
"I can't just allow you to gamble with your lif-"
"I'm going to die anyway! Just tell me what you can do!" is put to rest the desperation of a girl who won't live to her sixteenth birthday. And then the tears start falling.
"None of them are ready for general testing yet. If your parents sign off on it I can get into the first rounds of testing, but that will take time that you might not have."
"How long until trials start?" At even the smallest spark of hope the wall you built falls,
"Four months, if we're lucky."
"And if we aren't" letting doubt and sorrow claim you.
"Seven months, I didn't want to give you false hope"
"So what can I do to by time?" But, the hope is there all the same, though burned down to embers from desperation, but glowing all the same.
"I wish I could tell you, but we don't have enough information."
"What about an Aura, an unlocked aura can heal you right?" How many times have you heard stories of hunters receiving lethal wounds only be fine a few days later, there has to be some truth to that right?
"As I've said before Miss Rosewater, I'm afraid it's not that simple, if it were we would simply unlock someone's aura when they came in and send them on their way a few hours later. Against regular injuries, yes an aura can drastically shorten recovery times and keep injuries from happening. And yes, an aura does increase your ability to resist diseases, but it's not a cure-all. I won't stop you, in fact I can arrange a meeting with the hunter we have here for security. But I won't lie to you and say it will help, hunters have died to this disease too"
"But it might help?" Anythings better than waiting, right?
"It might, it certainly won't hurt your chances. Bring your parents in here, there's some paperwork they need to sign for the trials. Do you know where the roof access is?"
"Yeah, I've been up there a few times." Who hadn't at some point? It was one of the few places a person could go and forget for a few minutes that the world is falling apart.
"Good, head to the fountain. She should be reading there."
"Lot's of people read up there, can you describe her?"
"She'll be wearing a suit under a trench coat, combat armor too, waist length black hair, although you'll probably notice the feathers coming out of her arms first. Good luck Ebon"
As you walk out of the room, you hug your parents and give them the news. For the first time in months they smile, sure the tears still flow but anyone could tell there was a different reason for them. As you hold the door for them and then sprint to the roof top garden, you find yourself humming a tune, something you haven't done in a long time.
As you reach the fountain, you search around. There, under the trellis next to the strawberry bushes. Sure enough, an immaculat suit underneath a set of combat armor and a trench coat, sleeves rolled up revealing feathers, book in hand (Samurai Of Passion... NOPE, moving on!).
"So, you going to talk or just keep staring at me? Personally; I don't mind the attention but my break is almost over so if you could tell me wh-"
"You're a huntress right?"
"I am, what do you need?"
"I need to unlock my aura"
"We've got more then enough hunters in Menagerie, to handle the Grimm kid. I admire the sentiment but, you're what fifteen? If you haven't unlocked your aura yet or started attending a combat school, I'm sorry to say you've missed your cha-"
"I'm not trying to become a huntress, I need to unlock my aura because of my disease"
"An Aura won't cure whatever it is you have, I'm sorry but it doesn't work like that."
"I know, but I was talking with my doctor, in a few months trials start for a series of new treatments. The problem is I might not live that long, we think if I can unlock my aura I'll have a better chance" At this, the huntress puts her book down and looks up from the bench she's sitting on. She looks you in the eyes and you almost feel like she's gazing into your soul, you take a few small and uncomfortable steps back, after a few seconds she stands up and holds out her hand.
"Be here at five pm. everyday from now on, even if we can't get it, the training and meditation might do something for you."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" You move to shake her hand, however, so over come with emotion are you that you end up hugging her instead, it's definitely not because you tripped. She almost tries to pry you off however between the tears and "thank-yous" she just decides to hold you. After a good minute passes you you step back and introduce yourself.
"By the way, my name's Ebon Rosewater"
"Nice to meet you Ebon, the names Kuro Arashi. It means Storm Crow. I'm the reason mom isn't allowed to name things anymore"
After a few more minutes of talking and finalizing details with Arashi, you walk back to meet with your parents, as you walk back across the gardens and down the stairs you start humming again. This time you can even remember a few of the words in the song.
"So, how long do I have?" Your parents are in the other room crying. You would probably be with them, but something about knowing that you're going to die makes it seem pointless. They have time, you don't, why waste it?
"Honestly, we don't know. While your condition isn't rare it certainly isn't a common ailment, and with everything that has been happening it's been difficult to establish a baseline. You may have a few weeks or several months, I'm sorry but we don't know."
"Is there anything that can be done, I'm not the first person to have this so you must have some kind of idea for a treatment" You promised yourself you wouldn't waste your time crying, you've even accepted that you're going to die.
"There are a few options but, none of them are... definite solutions, there's still testing to be do-"
"What are they" Even though everyone dies at some point, you just refuse to go down without a fight.
"Miss Rosewater none of these are ready for genera-"
"I don't care" It's funny the things acceptance can do. It can hold back the tears,give the resolve to finally kiss the boy you've been admiring for a year... and the cheerleader sitting next to him. But the one thing acceptance can't do...
"I can't just allow you to gamble with your lif-"
"I'm going to die anyway! Just tell me what you can do!" is put to rest the desperation of a girl who won't live to her sixteenth birthday. And then the tears start falling.
"None of them are ready for general testing yet. If your parents sign off on it I can get into the first rounds of testing, but that will take time that you might not have."
"How long until trials start?" At even the smallest spark of hope the wall you built falls,
"Four months, if we're lucky."
"And if we aren't" letting doubt and sorrow claim you.
"Seven months, I didn't want to give you false hope"
"So what can I do to by time?" But, the hope is there all the same, though burned down to embers from desperation, but glowing all the same.
"I wish I could tell you, but we don't have enough information."
"What about an Aura, an unlocked aura can heal you right?" How many times have you heard stories of hunters receiving lethal wounds only be fine a few days later, there has to be some truth to that right?
"As I've said before Miss Rosewater, I'm afraid it's not that simple, if it were we would simply unlock someone's aura when they came in and send them on their way a few hours later. Against regular injuries, yes an aura can drastically shorten recovery times and keep injuries from happening. And yes, an aura does increase your ability to resist diseases, but it's not a cure-all. I won't stop you, in fact I can arrange a meeting with the hunter we have here for security. But I won't lie to you and say it will help, hunters have died to this disease too"
"But it might help?" Anythings better than waiting, right?
"It might, it certainly won't hurt your chances. Bring your parents in here, there's some paperwork they need to sign for the trials. Do you know where the roof access is?"
"Yeah, I've been up there a few times." Who hadn't at some point? It was one of the few places a person could go and forget for a few minutes that the world is falling apart.
"Good, head to the fountain. She should be reading there."
"Lot's of people read up there, can you describe her?"
"She'll be wearing a suit under a trench coat, combat armor too, waist length black hair, although you'll probably notice the feathers coming out of her arms first. Good luck Ebon"
As you walk out of the room, you hug your parents and give them the news. For the first time in months they smile, sure the tears still flow but anyone could tell there was a different reason for them. As you hold the door for them and then sprint to the roof top garden, you find yourself humming a tune, something you haven't done in a long time.
As you reach the fountain, you search around. There, under the trellis next to the strawberry bushes. Sure enough, an immaculat suit underneath a set of combat armor and a trench coat, sleeves rolled up revealing feathers, book in hand (Samurai Of Passion... NOPE, moving on!).
"So, you going to talk or just keep staring at me? Personally; I don't mind the attention but my break is almost over so if you could tell me wh-"
"You're a huntress right?"
"I am, what do you need?"
"I need to unlock my aura"
"We've got more then enough hunters in Menagerie, to handle the Grimm kid. I admire the sentiment but, you're what fifteen? If you haven't unlocked your aura yet or started attending a combat school, I'm sorry to say you've missed your cha-"
"I'm not trying to become a huntress, I need to unlock my aura because of my disease"
"An Aura won't cure whatever it is you have, I'm sorry but it doesn't work like that."
"I know, but I was talking with my doctor, in a few months trials start for a series of new treatments. The problem is I might not live that long, we think if I can unlock my aura I'll have a better chance" At this, the huntress puts her book down and looks up from the bench she's sitting on. She looks you in the eyes and you almost feel like she's gazing into your soul, you take a few small and uncomfortable steps back, after a few seconds she stands up and holds out her hand.
"Be here at five pm. everyday from now on, even if we can't get it, the training and meditation might do something for you."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" You move to shake her hand, however, so over come with emotion are you that you end up hugging her instead, it's definitely not because you tripped. She almost tries to pry you off however between the tears and "thank-yous" she just decides to hold you. After a good minute passes you you step back and introduce yourself.
"By the way, my name's Ebon Rosewater"
"Nice to meet you Ebon, the names Kuro Arashi. It means Storm Crow. I'm the reason mom isn't allowed to name things anymore"
After a few more minutes of talking and finalizing details with Arashi, you walk back to meet with your parents, as you walk back across the gardens and down the stairs you start humming again. This time you can even remember a few of the words in the song.
I may fall, but not like this
It won't be by your hand
I may fall
not this place, not today
It won't be by your hand
I may fall
not this place, not today
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So... this thing happened. I thought about doing this all in one part but I figured in this one instance it would be better to ask permission than forgiveness before i did something like giving Ebon an aura and nano-machines. Maybe I should stop writing while sleep deprived, maybe I should stop playing Metal Gear whilst listening to the RWBY soundtrack. Actually never mind the image of Quiet wielding Crescent Rose just came to me and it is glorious. Excuse me I need to go commission some fan art.
Also based on my brain throwing pictures, string and tacks around like someone trying to connect The Kenedy's, Jules Verne, The pyramids, Watergate and Martian rivers I am going to guess that the idea behind the Kronos Eggs was that a person would be injected with nanomachines and then get stuffed in the Egg to slow down their body and give the robots more time to clean house and fix shit, unfortunately it didn't quite go to plan, you know because the world ended. Anyway feedback is welcome, have a good night.
So... this thing happened. I thought about doing this all in one part but I figured in this one instance it would be better to ask permission than forgiveness before i did something like giving Ebon an aura and nano-machines. Maybe I should stop writing while sleep deprived, maybe I should stop playing Metal Gear whilst listening to the RWBY soundtrack. Actually never mind the image of Quiet wielding Crescent Rose just came to me and it is glorious. Excuse me I need to go commission some fan art.
Also based on my brain throwing pictures, string and tacks around like someone trying to connect The Kenedy's, Jules Verne, The pyramids, Watergate and Martian rivers I am going to guess that the idea behind the Kronos Eggs was that a person would be injected with nanomachines and then get stuffed in the Egg to slow down their body and give the robots more time to clean house and fix shit, unfortunately it didn't quite go to plan, you know because the world ended. Anyway feedback is welcome, have a good night.
Raiu
Per Aspera Ad Astra
- Location
- United States
Don't worry terribly much on the gifts you give Ebon, after all you did get part of the mystery correct, though the rest is incorrect. I will give you this for free: the Before Times were surprisingly primitive, and even the very heights of their technology, the bleeding edge of the future itself, was still woefully incomplete. In some ways they were more advanced than even the time of this writing, but in others they had barely reached the turn of the century, and we all know how far things have developed since then.
As always, a question answered, a boon received, a story told, or knowledge of one of the actors in this grand play?
Issiah Glory, The Coward who reached too far.
Kauplin, The Sorcerer whose touch is yet unknown.
Gottfried, The Arch Bishop of Vale who brought Order to a Chaotic Age.
Kauplin, The Sorcerer whose touch is yet unknown.
Gottfried, The Arch Bishop of Vale who brought Order to a Chaotic Age.
Cmd. Frost
The last one standing.
- Location
- The Summer Stretch
As evidenced by the fact that they have androids, mecha and airships but no idea that non-dust energy sources exist. And thus they cannot properly venerate the sun in all it's incandescent glory, or go to space.
Also if it doesn't count as the question for my omake, what are the mechanics for being in a coma?