"This is New…Right?” (A fantasy adventure)
- Thread starter Solsticegelan
- Start date
- Original
- Location
- Lost in Hell
So then, I do apologize for this late tally, I had expected to be out of the house until 2 - hence why I had extended the voting time - but nope, my family decided to go walking around the mall for two hours while I elected to sit in the car rather than be dragged into what I had hoped was a short-lived trip.
It wasnt. My phone died. Much misery was suffered. That said, here are the votes. Bear with me if things are ackward for a moment, this is my first time using the program.
Vote tally:
##### 3.21
[X] Give in to the Raven's instincts for now, and find food
No. of votes: 7
Hannz, veekie, Cornix Argentus, Ridiculously Average Guy, tricholysis, Ford Prefect, NephyrisX
[X] Figure out what the hell just happened to you, and if possible, change back
No. of votes: 4
Hannz, Dust and echoes, Ford Prefect, NephyrisX
[X] Go back to the cliff face and rest until you're in better condition
No. of votes: 1
Dust and echoes
[X] No really, figure out what the fuck just happened and figure out what those blue flames were
No. of votes: 1
veekie
[X] Attempt to figure out who you are, and what you were doing in the middle of the woods
No. of votes: 2
Cornix Argentus, Ridiculously Average Guy
[X] Go to the cliff face and rest until you're in a better condition
No. of votes: 1
tricholysis
That said, it appears the final vote has decided to primarily prioritize Giving in to the Ravens Instincts for now, and find food as well as secondarily Figuring out what the hell just happened to you, and if possible, change back. Expect the post within the next hour or two.
It wasnt. My phone died. Much misery was suffered. That said, here are the votes. Bear with me if things are ackward for a moment, this is my first time using the program.
Vote tally:
##### 3.21
[X] Give in to the Raven's instincts for now, and find food
No. of votes: 7
Hannz, veekie, Cornix Argentus, Ridiculously Average Guy, tricholysis, Ford Prefect, NephyrisX
[X] Figure out what the hell just happened to you, and if possible, change back
No. of votes: 4
Hannz, Dust and echoes, Ford Prefect, NephyrisX
[X] Go back to the cliff face and rest until you're in better condition
No. of votes: 1
Dust and echoes
[X] No really, figure out what the fuck just happened and figure out what those blue flames were
No. of votes: 1
veekie
[X] Attempt to figure out who you are, and what you were doing in the middle of the woods
No. of votes: 2
Cornix Argentus, Ridiculously Average Guy
[X] Go to the cliff face and rest until you're in a better condition
No. of votes: 1
tricholysis
That said, it appears the final vote has decided to primarily prioritize Giving in to the Ravens Instincts for now, and find food as well as secondarily Figuring out what the hell just happened to you, and if possible, change back. Expect the post within the next hour or two.
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1.2 - A Raven's Instincts
- Location
- Lost in Hell
"This is New,Right?"
Chapter 1.2 - A Ravens Instincts
Chapter 1.2 - A Ravens Instincts
You flap once more, your elevation rising higher as you being to circle higher. You wanted to figure out exactly what had happened to you, but first? You needed to eat, to find food. As much as you wanted to figure everything out, from the blue flames to your current form, the phrase currently coming to your mind was "Physical well-being, then identity crisis.". On that note, you needed to figure out what exactly you would do for food.
Your memory, however vague, notes that ravens were omnivorous to some extent, but that they were also scavengers – carrion eaters. You could try and go hunt on your own, but there was a smell in the air, wafting into your nostrils; and it was absolutely delicious. You could feel your mouth salivating, your will wavering, as not only your sense of smell alerted you to a feast, but so too did some sixth sense; an aura of decay, of death and bloodshed, coalescing from many areas into a single large collection. Your wings beat faster the closer you got, the energy they consumed reduced, and your wound less painful every time you drew near to the beacon of death, fading as your circular flight pattern drew you further away. Your instincts told you how horrible an idea this was, to give into the Ravens instincts; but your intellect also admitted that you had no idea how to hunt, how to truly care for yourself as you were. But your instincts as a Raven, which had already taught you to fly?
They most certainly did.
You decided to concede your body and your will to the Raven; you didn't fight it as your body turned, as you silently sunk towards the not-quite-yet-setting sun, nor as the elevating terrain slunk away in such a way that the pines grew sparser or sharp spikes in the terrains height could be seen in the distance.
You did, however, stop above a clearing, where your strength was elevated and you could no longer feel your wounds so that you may begin circling around…
…an extremely appetizing pile of dead, rotting corpses. Huh. You knew that under almost any other circumstance, you would be gagging due to the smell you now found so appealing, or be properly horrified at the rabbits stacked high with massive bites taken out of them, of the deer who had been decapitated and chewed to the bone, the large bear's corpse, or the several large wolves who had been simply killed, with several legs missing here or there. That certainly explained the desperate and small pack you had encountered.
As you circled lower and lower, you took a note that some of the wolves' corpses looked quite recent. In addition to seeing freshly trampled grass and marks signifying depression from whatever had dragged these wolves here, you can feel their warmth from up above, whatever sixth sense you possessed working quite well in your favor. That didn't mean the ravens instincts weren't also telling you to land there, your nose picking out the scent of fresh blood and therefore the best meal.
Rapidly flapping your wings to slow your decent as you fly over to the wolves with thoughts of truly petty vengeance in mind, you immediately dig in, your beak picking out chunks you quickly swallow as you gorge yourself. It isn't even the ravens' instincts telling you to do so, but rather your own, your immense hunger winning over even that of an animals.
You aren't quite sure how long you sit there, at the wolves chest, spitting aside fur as you pick away deeper and deeper; you just know that there certainly wasn't a hole that was both wider and deeper than you when you had first landed here. You didn't even know how that was possible; was it because you had flown and walked about with an empty stomach for nearly two hours now? Were you burning off what you ate faster than it was digested to sate your hunger? Or did you and your Human self share stomachs?
…did you just refer to your normal self as though it were a separate entity? Oh, that could not be a good sign. You had been doubting yourself far too often as well, going off on minor tangents and taking far too long to take things in. You supposed it might simply be a part of your amnesia and shocking events you were entirely too accepting of, but with your appetite quickly becoming satisfied, you could afford to-
*crunch*
Focus on that ominous noise that sounded less like a twig snapping and more like a log falling instead of on your past. You are suddenly aware of a gaze – uncomfortable and piercing, and unmistakably intelligent.
You search the trees for the source of the noise, your head performing a wide sweep as you prepare to take off at the slightest threat – but find nothing. Not even the snapped log, a sound you had pinned as quite distinctive, could be found. You could pinpoint the direction it had come from, however; it would be right in front of you.
No reason to risk your life for your hunger, right? But…
It smells so good.
A compromise, then.
Further away from the predator, further from our unidentified threat you conclude. Your appetite hasn't been sated, and despite feeling the gaze still fixed on you, you can't pick out even the slightest trace of whatever had caused the noise's presence.
With two quick hops, you're facing the opposite direction; and with a quick flap and minor effort, you've moved away from the wolf you had been feasting upon and were now roosting atop the decaying and already consumed rabbits. Sniffing around the edges of their wounds reveals a sickly scent, one that immediately brings a hint of bile to your avian throat, which you quickly swallow. Up close, even the rotting flesh around the rabbit's wounds looks sickly and you can even spy hints of an unnatural green tinge to their edge.
Poison you glumly reflect. Perhaps not the best idea to indulge the Raven's –
You are immediately snapped out of your reverie by the presence of the exceptionally large reptile bearing down upon you with a wide, gaping maw you are entirely certain was large enough to devour you in a single bite. With a loud shriek of a Caw, you jump backwards, propelling yourself away with quick rigid flapping as panic seizes your mind – just as it does the Raven's. You turn around quickly, not even able to register a detail about the creature other than its green scales and large, large size before you've forcibly gained a massive height increase, already caught in a warm thermal, drifting up above the tree line.
Flee, Flee, Flee…
The adrenaline is pounding in your mind; your instincts are screaming one, and your body refuses to do otherwise. With a pull, and an extremely painful mental motion you don't think is even describable, you gain back control over your body. You quickly turn, the ground below you quickly growing further, as you elect to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that had attacked you.
True to your word, you do catch a glimpse of the creature. The first thing that strikes you as noticeable about it is its color – you can barely pick it out from the ground below you, even as it paces and passes over the large piles of fresh meat you couldn't even begin to guess as to why it had began stockpiling. The next thing you choose to note are the long and curling yellowed horns its sports, its ragged and injured wings sprawling out behind it, and the…
Oh dear. Injured wings.
You still circle around it, but you feel as though if you could have frozen in your tracks, you would've; a deathly cold shiver passing through your spine. If this thing hadn't been injured, you would've died in a heartbeat, and you wouldn't have come close to escaping it. The realization is… unsettling, to say the least. You had a distinctly Draconian name for its species on the tip of your tongue, but unfortunately…
Fear. Run.
…you glumly note that the Raven had also suffered an unsettling revelation, the fear quickly overcoming you as you slowly feel your mind slipping away into a deep sleep, mentally exhausted…
-0-0-0-
Panic. Consciousness returning. Flee, Eat, Rest.
"What an unfortunate turn of events."
Realization. Unsettled. Reevaluating…. Panic, Flee, Eat, Rest.
"No, I don't think so."
Inquisitive mental probing. Unable to overcome. Panic, flee faster, Sustenance found, Rest.
"I should be insulted that you think I can be overcome that easily, shouldn't I, you dumb bird?"
Indignant. Panic, flee faster, Sustenance consumed, Rest.
"Well, it appears 'young' Beatrice can't get her head out of trouble, can she? Here I thought she was the responsible one, if not only a little butt hurt over certain womanly articles. I'd say the dice hate her before withdrawing that statement as stupid if I hadn't met several gambling gods of chance already."
New topic. Womanhood. Season appropriate. Warmth. Panic, Flee faster, Rest, Find Mate.
"Case in point."
New urges. Repeated Indignancy, Pride. Warmth. Panic, Flee faster, Rest, Find Mate. Find Defense.
"Defiantly not letting THAT happen on my watch, especially when she's oh so far from my own fate. Her B̖͎̮̪̬͖͂̈͆ͤ͊̓́ò̲̝͇̤̦̙̞̝̆̏̋ͦ͛̆ͣ̀͟͢n̙͔͈̹͉͐̇ͩ̄̑̊ͥ͢͡ḛ̴̰͍̻̺͎̰̐ͣͫ̾sͪ̄̂̂́͜҉̞̜͉͎̙͚̲̙ ̵̬̻̱͕̆̏͊͜ͅǫ̟͉͙͎̤̹̳͉̿ͧ́ͣ̇ͪ̽̓f̫̜͎̭̠̘̠̔ͤ̀͢ ͚̹̘̖̞̣̳ͧ͐N̲̝̦̼͋̆̽̈́̄͋́̆͢o̸̸̬̺̭̙͍̐ͫ̾ͦ͌̌̚̚ť̻̱̰͚̜̗̘͉̏̒͗̔ͬ̉͌ḧ̡̟̠̻̺́̏̌̚i̸̟̦̣̜̩ͭ̄͂͠n̤̩̲̫̂͗̅̆̓͊̏̚͞g̞͉͈̠̓̿̃ͯ͂̐͢ have barely manifested themselves, after all, and she hasn't even encountered –ah, getting off track, aren't I? I'd say it's my turn to take this body out for a spin, eh?"
Panic. Fear. Retaliate, no success, incre-
"There we are.Oh Beatrice… You always had the least control, didn't you? I cant do this again... and even if I do, I'll..."
-0-0-0-
As you sleep, you dream. But not of your many, many tragically harrowing and mentally scaring close encounters; you dream of a smiling woman, with bronze skin and long flowing black hair. You sit on an uncomfortable wooden chair as she scolds you, pointing to a wooden training weapon.
"Beatrice, what possessed you to sneak out of your room in the middle of the night..."
The moon chooses this moment to break out from beneath the clouds hiding it, shining through the foliage making the roof of your partially open-air training area, located high within the branches of !!!ERROR???ERROR!!!
"...and train without me being here to guide you? Now get up, you're doing it all wrong dear." You mother says, a smile coming to her face as her short-lived scold ends. Your shocked face quickly fades to a wide childish grin as you run over to your weapon of choice...
[X] A Wooden sword, efficient and brutal.
[X] A Training bow, of deceptively large size compared to you
[X] A Wooden Lance, swift, quick, and devestating
You train for the entire night, your mother guiding you every action, drills coming and changing faster than you can memorize them, skills engraved in your mind for the first time and meant to last an eternity....
...What... is this memory?
"Beatrice, what possessed you to sneak out of your room in the middle of the night..."
The moon chooses this moment to break out from beneath the clouds hiding it, shining through the foliage making the roof of your partially open-air training area, located high within the branches of !!!ERROR???ERROR!!!
"...and train without me being here to guide you? Now get up, you're doing it all wrong dear." You mother says, a smile coming to her face as her short-lived scold ends. Your shocked face quickly fades to a wide childish grin as you run over to your weapon of choice...
[X] A Wooden sword, efficient and brutal.
[X] A Training bow, of deceptively large size compared to you
[X] A Wooden Lance, swift, quick, and devestating
You train for the entire night, your mother guiding you every action, drills coming and changing faster than you can memorize them, skills engraved in your mind for the first time and meant to last an eternity....
...What... is this memory?
------------------------------------------
Well, the dice and the most reasonable decision combined to force my hand way too early. I had to end this chapter like this simply because I had no alternative options for choices to give you guys. Defiantly hasn't turned Laquita's SB threads "not a deathtrap" option into "almost certainly a deathtrap.".... actually, it doesn't by simple luck. On that note! Time to explain exactly what went wrong.
...Nothing on your part, actually. You did one of the smartest possible things and had Beatrice tend to her hunger because she had literally emptied her stomach and nearly bled to death. You didn't, however, do it in the best way. You could've gone to rest at the cliffs, from when you might've been able to find something to eat, or to the village where you could've snagged something an- ranting? Me? Never.
What really went wrong here was an unfortunate series of dice rolls and stats, both from this section and the last, combining to allow her to not notice the beast, loose control of herself, and horrendous control after forgetting about her secondary priority for the time being because murder beasts and instinct. But hey, all well that ends well! That's a saying,right? Next chapter will focus on the secondary priority and the 'Third Priority.',so to speak, so don't worry about that.
Roll for Encounter Roll: (17) 13 Modifier: Awoke later in the day; +4 Modifier
No signs of an encounter; 1-4
You are being stalked; 4-10
You are alerted to your stalkers prescience; 11-14
You are confronted as you finish eating; 15-18
You are confronted as you are eating; 19-20
Do you overcome your instincts? Roll: (7) 9 Modifier; Low control (Under 3); -2 Modification
You fly away, only to reclaim control later; 1-4
You manage to catch a glimpse, but do not gain control; 5-6
You overcome your instincts long enough to claim a glance; 7-10
You fully claim control, and gain a full glimpse of the creature; 11-12
No signs of an encounter; 1-4
You are being stalked; 4-10
You are alerted to your stalkers prescience; 11-14
You are confronted as you finish eating; 15-18
You are confronted as you are eating; 19-20
Do you overcome your instincts? Roll: (7) 9 Modifier; Low control (Under 3); -2 Modification
You fly away, only to reclaim control later; 1-4
You manage to catch a glimpse, but do not gain control; 5-6
You overcome your instincts long enough to claim a glance; 7-10
You fully claim control, and gain a full glimpse of the creature; 11-12
Do you regain control, or lose consciousness until the following day? Roll: (0)3 Modifier; Low Control (Under 6); -3 Modification
Option Forcefully Granted; What? Wut? WUT?!; 0 and below.
You fail to regain control, and lose consciousness; 1-5
You successfully combat your instincts, exhausting yourself in the process; 6-9
You manage to regain control quite easily; 10-12
[Achievement Unlocked! The dice hate you, period. The story's plot absolutely loves you, though! -1 Luck, +1 Intellect]
Option Forcefully Granted; What? Wut? WUT?!; 0 and below.
You fail to regain control, and lose consciousness; 1-5
You successfully combat your instincts, exhausting yourself in the process; 6-9
You manage to regain control quite easily; 10-12
[Achievement Unlocked! The dice hate you, period. The story's plot absolutely loves you, though! -1 Luck, +1 Intellect]
Edit; So, apparently no matter what I do the dice rolls refuse to be anything but be separated into two boxes. Somehow. Is this fixable?
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- Location
- scrabbling
[X] A Wooden Lance, swift, quick, and devastating
Well, we know two of three weapons are swift, at least.
Lance is cooler than a sword, IMO. And I like to imagine a similarity between a lance's interaction with momentum and a bird of prey's dive, even if Beatrice is no falcon.
Well, we know two of three weapons are swift, at least.
Lance is cooler than a sword, IMO. And I like to imagine a similarity between a lance's interaction with momentum and a bird of prey's dive, even if Beatrice is no falcon.
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[X] A Training bow, of deceptively large size compared to you
We have access to so many vantage points. So many.
We have access to so many vantage points. So many.
- Location
- Lost in Hell
It was at that moment he realized he used the word swift twice.
Well, time to fix that little screwup before someone votes on the sword.
Yes, Yes we do.
1.3 - A Raven's Knowledge
- Location
- Lost in Hell
"This is New, Right?"
Chapter 1.3 – A Raven's Knowledge
Why are you watching this? What are you thinking? What are you doing? You recognize this, you recognize HER, you recognize YOU, but you don't know anything!
The You of the past is being lined up by error; You know she's your mother, so why can't you remember her? Why can't you recall when you last saw ERROR? So why can't you think of her name? The You of the Past is, was?, being instructed, now; lessons you could repeat to yourself in your sleep.
You watch a far younger you draw, be guided through the motions to fire; and shoot. Again and Again, and just as you are comfortable, you are moved to another procedure. So you shoot and shoot again, cycling through a dozen different actions, guided no more. Until your mother stands by, simply watching you practice, the sun now visibly rising through the Canopy of ERROR. ERROR ERROR ERROR; Which made. No. Sense. You knew where you were, and you fully recalled your training, though you hadn't realized it; so why could you ~BZZT~ ERROR.
You knew that you knew these places, you could name your home as ERROR; so why couldn't you?! All of this made no sense! Suddenly interrupting your thoughts is a thunk, the awareness that you're holding something.
Blinking, you look down at your hands; you hold the training bow now, so large compared to you at that age, and feel oh so proud. Turning it over to examine what you recall to be an old, splintery thing, you note that it isn't old, nor splintery; it possessed a pristine, almost waxy sheen. Just like the one the Younger you had. Turning it over to grasp it in both hands, you begin feelings its edges and contours; it was so familiar…
You're suddenly aware of you mother standing behind you; what?! You knew she had been the ERROR, but how had she-
"I'm proud of you, Beatrice." She said, ruffling your hair. The bow felt heavier now, larger as your grip slackens, no longer able to complete the grip they once had on the bow. It's larger, longer; the same size as you knew it had been when you were a child. You look up; why did you need to crane your neck to stare at your mothers face?
"You need to eat, dear. You've done well – why, it would've taken me twice as long to go through those drills as you took at your age! But I think you've stayed up a bit past your bedtime…"
"Only the teensiest bit" You giggle, freezing as you did so. Why had you-
"In fact, we might've stayed up past everyone's bedtimes, considering the fact your sister is about to walk up the stairs and through that door, fully refreshed." Your mother continues, pointing to a door you recalled to be red oak with some oddly elaborate and unnecessary design carved into it; while being reprimanded, your head had fallen; and now you struggled against your will to peek around your mother.
"Mom? ERROR ERROR ERROR" Error said, pushing the doors open as ERROR. ~BZZT~
-0-0-0-
Groaning as you awake, you're unaware of anything but two realizations. The first was that there was clearly more going on here than you thought there was, if mysterious half-remembered dreams full of frustration where any indication; and the second was that your headache could not go away any faster.
You flinch, putting your hand to your forehead; pulling yourself up and resting your elbows onto your elbows, you look around you. You see the still-bellowing smoke in the distance, a sure sign of civilization and therefore your salvation, and looking behind you and towards this mountains peak, you can see the sun preparing to set; Dusk must be almost upon you.
"Just what I needed…" You mutter while you shuffle around a bit, dusting off your clothing as you start standing; Judging from the fact that the tree's tops were barely in front of you (And the roughly 20 foot drop in front of you.), you had woken up on top of the cliff.
At this point, your hunger had been more than satisfied, your mind rested, and now that you weren't about to act irrationally and without a plan, you needed to figure everything out. Kicking aside a nearly meatless mouse from aside your foot off the cliff, you turn so that you may begin to pace back and forth.
So, to start, you had woken up in a forest. You have nothing more than memories, and immediately after waking up in pure agony and emptying your stomach until you were dry heaving nothing save for blood and odd blue flames, sitting around for a hour to do no more than dredge up your name, you were attacked by wolves. This, of course, prompted you to turn into a Raven, fly away, and needlessly endanger yourself in a situation that you didn't even need to get yourself into in the first place. Your time as a raven was… blurry, obscure after a while; you couldn't quite recall what had happened after you had been attacked by that …thing. And to top it all off, you might've caught a cold; you remember sneezing several moments at the most inopportune times.
Pausing in your pacing, you bring a hand to your mouth in thought. There was something you were missing, something you couldn't quite recall. Had there been… a voice? No, that wasn't it… there was something else, something important and obvious you were missi-
You freeze, slowly moving your hand away so that you may stare at your hand.
Oh.
Oh.
That… that was probably it. Add "Turning back to normal while atop a cliff after losing consciousness" to your list of things to figure out. At least you hadn't lost your clothes in the transition… that would've been unfortunate, even for you. You could worry about having a convenient dresser later, and more about everything else now.
So then, out of that gigantic list of problems you had to worry about and try to puzzle out right now, what had you gotten out of all of that?
Absolutely nothing beyond that you were goddamned weird by even your own standards. So then, it was time to puzzle everything out, wasn't it? You needed it start with the things that you couldn't let screw you over unexpectedly in the future first; and the one that may serve to help you?
Your unexpected Metamorphosis.
A simple look at the village's smokestacks, now far fewer than they had been earlier, told you all you needed to know. On foot, it would take several hours to climb down from this cliff and reach the refuge the town might offer before night fell and its presumable gates fell, when those wolves that had attacked me earlier might be on the prowl again, or even worse, it may be the selected hunting time for the creature that you had almost died to earlier. That thing had killed a bear in what had appeared to be a simple fight, with no claw marks mawing its pelt; a second encounter would not bode well for you. Even if your recent memories had revealed your deeply ingrained training with a bow thanks to your mother-
You choke at the thought of your mother. You had forgotten her, in your dream; you recalled she had bronze skin and long, silky black hair; hazel eyes, a kind and loving voice…
…So why had your thoughts been poisoned by hatred and malice? No Beatrice, No… That's not important right now. You need to focus on what you should be doing.
Therefore, newfound issues with your moth- …mother aside, you could either attempt to find a hideaway and sleep the night away before trekking over to the village – or do something incredibly stupid, against all of your better judgment.
Your transformation earlier had either been triggered by your pain, fear, or imminent death; it may have been simple high-strung emotions that triggered it, but it just as easily could've been the need to avoid danger. In either case…
Your eyes trail over to the cliffs edge.
….Goddamnit, who had you just reminded yourself of?
-0-0-0-
A young girl dressed in white, calmly walking alongside a river, chose that moment to sneeze. She certainly hoped she hadn't caught a cold… and why had the term sisterly abuse come to her mind again?
-0-0-0-
What would the wisest (or dumbest) decision be?
[X] Force your Raven form to the surface by jumping; They should have time enough to react, right?
[X] Attempt to find shelter for the night, and make your way towards the village at a later date.
[X] [Write In]
Ability Unlocked!
[ Marksmanship Mastery- Through years of training, muscle memory, and instinct, you are an excellent marksman; you may create your own bows, arrows, and shoot with the utmost precision. Anything vital to your craft, you know how to do...even if you're not aware of it.]
[Achivement Unlocked! Marksmanship Mastery Passive Effects - You have trained for years with your weapon of choice; youre muscles of grown as you have down so, as has your endurance. +2 Strength, +1 Endurance.]
Awakening Time? Roll; 4 Modifiers Unavailable
Dusk – 1, 4, 7,10,13,16,
Night - 2, 5,8,11,14,17,19
The Next Morning - 3, 6,9,12,15,18,29
Dusk – 1, 4, 7,10,13,16,
Night - 2, 5,8,11,14,17,19
The Next Morning - 3, 6,9,12,15,18,29
Recalls Mother? Roll: 19 Modifiers: None
Odds – Yes
Evens - No
Odds – Yes
Evens - No
Edit; The First section has now been fixed, as italic text and bold text were somehow undone and then unnoticed until after I posted. Still cant fix the Spoilers...
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- Location
- scrabbling
[X] Attempt to find shelter for the night, and make your way towards the village at a later date.
No reckless experimentation that might lead to suicide. That would just be embarrassing.
No reckless experimentation that might lead to suicide. That would just be embarrassing.
- Location
- Lost in Hell
This is an announcement that there will not be an update on Sunday; I will be posting an already written interlude so I may finish a school project.
Edit; To clarify, Im skipping the sunday update, but you will be getting an interlude. Voting will be extended properly.
Edit; To clarify, Im skipping the sunday update, but you will be getting an interlude. Voting will be extended properly.
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- Location
- St. Petersburg
Eh, what the hell. I have decided to spoil myself after all. This experiment will not die!
[X] Attempt to find shelter for the night, and make your way towards the village at a later date.
...somehow I wonder where a girl with no equipment can find shelter before the night is upon her. Knowing her luck, it'd probably be in a cave... a spider-infested cave of DOOM or something...
[X] Attempt to find shelter for the night, and make your way towards the village at a later date.
...somehow I wonder where a girl with no equipment can find shelter before the night is upon her. Knowing her luck, it'd probably be in a cave... a spider-infested cave of DOOM or something...
- Location
- Lost in Hell
"God no, Im not jumping off of a cliff!"
*Beatrice turns and walks away from the cliff, seeking shelter*
"ACHOO! Theres that murderous urge to kill my sister again... What an odd cold."
*sneezing, beatrice misses a kind old womans home and instead spots a cave opening.*
*Hours later, Beatrice can be heard screaming as she runs out of the cave.*
"Never agaaaaaaaaaaaain!"
*She shouts, accidently knocking over a warning sign the kind old lady had placed in front of the cave an hour ago labeled Beware! cthulu.*
*oh ya, the kind old woman was a cultist.*
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An Untimely Interlude; an Excerpt from the Lord's Holy Book
- Location
- Lost in Hell
An Excerpt from The Lords Holy Book
Ascension 12, Verse 8
Realized
Ascension 12, Verse 8
Realized
She screeched in agony at the sky for the betrayal she had suffered. Her loyalty had gotten her nothing, and all her power had been abandoned, for it was not truly hers. Since the dawn of time she had defended the World Tree Yggdrasil, source of all magic, which sprouted up and formed a vast impenetrable dome around the waters of creation, the place which exists outside of all that is from which all else had sprung.
Her duty had been thus; to monitor the many branches of reality that her world tree touched, and prevent threats from those it did not. The power granted to her was immense, and she had felt untouchable, for little could. Rain reached down, pouring down upon her, as she clutched the ground in an all-consuming anger.
One simple failure, in a shimmering computer like reality on but a twig of Yggdrasil had been broken, shattered from within, for she had failed to see the threat within. Failed to save a single atom of the minority of reality. For that, whatever sentience the indescribable tree that had not even one consistency in how it was viewed had cast her down, stripped her of all the might she had thought hers.
So she looked up at a blood red sky which possessed a setting sun as blue ethereal grass was stirred by the wind, as the Fae dragons youth danced, pinpricks of light appearing as though they were stars in the sky, and shouted her wrath out so all may hear it.
"Why have I been forsaken so? Have I been cast down for Hubris? For thinking strength not mine was my own? For failure to save that which I swore to protect? Whatever the answer, I know this; the fate chosen for me is unjust. I want vengeance! So I ask, what must be done for me to become more, to gain strength my own?"
And heard it was, as the Fae's sparkling lights vanished in fear and the wind stopped rustling as she allowed her silky black hair fall soaked around her, tears streaming unrelated for her hazel skin. Standing before her now were they; The Blade and the Mind, Our Lord Aranel and Our Nameless Wielder.
As he stared down at her, with normally deceiving eyes now as perceptive as the eyes which had watched it as all of infinity would pass by them in but an instant, a blue so deep it had killed, and addressed her.
"Shush now, Betrayed Guardian. You were holy, and now you are nothing. Will you allow yourself to remain as such?"
"I shall not." She replied, meeting his gaze.
"I can offer you power. A chance to become more."
"But why?" She murmured, entranced in his eyes, through which she could only begin to comprehend what he knew. "I will not be betrayed, not have the strength that is not mine torn away from me after being deceived yet again." She declared to this strange man in front of her.
"Because I understand what must become of you. You are a key, but you are strong. I could not touch you, visit you, before now… any actions I take would be undone, any speeches given invalidated. I can give you strength your own, earned and not to ever be taken, so long as you understand. So I ask you to simply look."
And with a gesture, she was torn from her rapturous gaze into his eyes, and observed the truth. She witnessed everything, how small and insignificant the tree known as Yggdrisal was, how even all of them – for now she knew of all of them, a base stretching out endlessly across all of existence, cut again and again by the Knife known as Time – and so to saw herself, cast out time and time again. She fell into different worlds, different locations, and each time she watched. Sometimes she simply lived an average life, Sometimes she was fueled by her rage until she died, sometimes she fought for good and sometimes for evil; but most often, her actions were morally grey, so much so they all blurred together. Once she had married a man her greatest foe in another world, and here she had simply possessed the luck to fall into the one place things would not diverge, where things would be made permanent.
And so she learned.
"I understand." She quietly said in awe, still slumped over on her knees as she had earlier, when broken. No more would she let her past mistakes ridicule her. "What power do you offer me that I may claim to be my own, not to claim a vengeance which shall overcome me, but so that I may fulfill your goals?"
"I offer you but three simple gifts, to do with as you wish, so that I may never remove them from you with all but greater force or your consent." He replied, taking slow steps closer. "Your power might have been granted, a simple blessing of great strength, but it did not grant you something only you possessed and contributed. Skill. "
Before the still-kneeling woman, he leaves two blades, simple and unadorned; a long, thin blade and a brutal cleaver, each glinting to reveal exactly how deadly they could be, even with minimal light in the rain.
"This is why I offer you these blades two. Take them up, and become the edge against which I whittle worlds; the fine blade that shall sharpen fate to my devices. Take them, and pledge to me that you shall do only as is best for all as you serve under me, so that you may shape your blade to your own devices and make them truly yours."
The woman shuffled about for a moment before standing, the amber light of her eyes glinting with only determination, in each hand now gripping the blades. Holding them out before her, she bowed, a silent pledge passing before the two figures.
"My second offer to you is this Mask alone; take it, and let it represent you."
"I thank thee, my lord." She stated, examining the mask now held out in Our Lord's hands. It was the three-pronged mask, the simplest yet the most beautiful of all the Lord's symbols. She delicately removed it, placing it upon her head, allowing its fake braids to fall down her back.
"With this, I am not what was, nor am I what might have been. Now… I am new. Now, I may take up the mantle as your servant, as a leader, without fear, and for that I thank you my lord."
"What I offer you next …" The Lord continued, pausing for a moment. "Is nothing. No more, no less than this simple question, worthless to all who may hear it and cannot shape it, for you must make it your own as you shall the swords and the mask; who are you?"
"I am the Enigma." Our Lady replied.
1.4 - A Raven Roosts
- Location
- Lost in Hell
"This is New, Right?"
1.4 - A Raven Roosts
1.4 - A Raven Roosts
Looking at the cliffs edge, you blink for a moment before laughing. There was no way you were going to hop off of the cliff on the off chance it would turn you into a Raven; and even if it could, you didn't even remember how you had changed back earlier, much less how you had flown… in fact, you found it reasonable to assume you had returned to your normal state-of-being entirely because you had fallen asleep.
With night doomed to fall, sitting around here and trying to figure things out simply wouldn't work, nor would my previous plans. I had angered some kind of dragon; it was… definitely small, and you hadn't exactly heard any strings of Draconic cursing beyond angry bellows as far as you could recall, so perhaps it had been some kind of Wyvern…. Or a simple Wyrmling, so smug and self-confident in their superiority they don't feel the need to curse at a random bird that just so happened to piss them off.
You couldn't let yourself get distracted now, not with your time running short… these little thought blurbs you'd been experiencing could wait. For now, you needed to find shelter, preferably safe and sound in case whatever large, scaled, and nasty thing you had angered had decided to chase you or caught your scent. Considering the fact you were still alive, you would prefer to think it hadn't caught it, but you weren't going to take any chances.
Shivering a bit as a heavy gust of wind blows past you, you walk back towards the mountains base; this particular area you were in wasn't the steepest section of the mountain, and you were fairly certain you could find small cave or alcove to bunker down for the night somewhere in this area. Letting you eyes look towards the now obscured quickly setting sun, you sighed. The sky was tinged orange and yellow, and off towards where the last smoke plume from the village could be seen was the hints of a dark sky; dusk would quickly be upon you.
Quickly resigning yourself to dirty work (which, with both satisfaction and some degree of anger, which you note still doesn't seem to stick to your dress. You have no idea why you keep on reacting like you have...), you begin to search the left wall of the miniature mountain pass, which you take notice give s way to a steeper rise and eventually tapered off to such a degree you couldn't quite see its top, a statement which rang true for both the passes walls and the mountains top, still obscured by cloud.
As you search the 'miniature' mountain pass for a cave opening or crevice, you try to distract yourself by thinking of your past day, danger after danger – you had put yourself at risk, barely comprehending your actions, you mind blocked by an odd haze, making choices that you had known even as you made them weren't wise.
Spotting a rocky alcove, the first potential sign of shelter, you slowly begin to climb the side of the mountain pass, hoisting yourself upwards.
You could certainly justify some of your actions, even through the haze of your mind; you had been hungry when refusing to leave the corpses and had traveled to them in the first place, and when you had started eating been overcome by some primal instinct. The wolves were outside your control, even if you could've been nowhere near them.
Grabbing the top of the ledge, you slowly drag yourself upwards, rolling over and letting out a slight grunt as you did so, you feel relieved to finally be in some form of relative safety. A quick glance off the side confirms that the ledge is only about 10 feet high.
Resting there, you come to a conclusion. Perhaps the fact that you have had no real control, been driven by things that you weren't even aware of, was what bothered you. More than your amnesia, the strange dream you could scarcely remember now that you knew was a memory; the odd blue flames that had kept you alive; the fact you turned into a goddamned bird! Everything had been outside of your control so far.
You needed to change that, but you didn't know how.
Turning your head to investigate the area behind you, much to your relief, you spy a small cave-like opening – a small alcove, with a low ceiling, but it was dry, and more importantly – it would, with all likelihood, preserve your body's temperature and shield you from the wind.
Presuming, of course, that you didn't spontaneously burst into flames to keep yourself alive, which you were quite honestly willing to believe you both could and would do if you started to die due to exposure. Tentatively sliding into the alcove, more than wide enough to comfortable and snugly fit you in and only slightly smelling of mold and fungus, and it did indeed protect you from the wind.
Much to your chagrin, you discover that whatever it is that happened to your hair which you only now note as black and oddly spiky has also left it oddly silken yet poufy – for lack of a better adjective – and therefore serves as a surprisingly good pillow once you let your head rest against the floor, letting your mind drift back to larger issues.
You were understandably pissed that everything you had done so far, morning's start to dusk's end – because peering out of your alcove reveals not even a hint of daylight besides only slightly less gray night far off in the distance - had been almost completely outside of your control, yes. It was an undoubtedly horrible thing… and you were even angrier, grew even more upset, by acknowledging the fact that anything would be in your control was so unlikely you may as well miraculously regain your memories before it happened.
Equally unnerving and grinding to your chagrin, you were forced to acknowledge that despite stumbling from one situation to the next in a desperate bid for survival perhaps what had happened to you was for the best. What were the odds that something random would've occurred sometime into the future setting these things off at the worst possible times? What about the fact that you were apparently unable to retain your mind while a Raven? These things all could've bitten you in the ass, and now they wouldn't, at least not without some kind of extraneous circumstance.
Now you could experiment, even if it was at a later date.
Resting your hands behind you head and stretching, you close your eyes, content for a single moment, even despite your anger and determination, and slowly feel your mind drifting away.
What do you do next?
[X] Fall asleep, awaking the next morning
[X] Lay awake, continuing to think.
[X] Write in.
So then... RISE, RISE! IT LIVES! ITS ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! THE POWER OF APOLOGIES THAT HE TOOK SO LONG COURSES THROUGH THE CREATURE'S UNDEAD VEEEEEEEEEEEINS! HE ANNOUNCES THE NORMAL SCHEDULE SHALL RESUME FOR BOTH THIS THREAD AND THE SPACEBATTLES THREAD AS OF TODAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAy! HE ALSO APOLOGIZES THAT THIS CHAPTER IS BASICALLY FILLER! QUICKLY, LET US RUN IGOR, WHILE WE DISTRACT THEM WITH THE DICE ROLLS!
...What do you mean there are no dice rolls this chapter? You mean I have to confess that I couldn't get back into the flow of writing for 41 days and its entirely due to me that I couldn't do so in the first place? Ah well.
- Location
- Lost in Hell
And the elderly woman who worships the old god's cant find us!
It's good to be back!
1.5- A Raven's Rhyme
- Location
- Lost in Hell
"This is New, Right?"
1.5 - A Raven's Rhyme
"Beatrice, Sweet Beatrice, Sleeping on and on
Your life but a con
Fate has been cheated;
Another now Indebted.
Sleep on and on, in the midst of the night
When you cannot fight
Sleep on and on, as the visitor approaches
Clad in white, his face cloaked in darkness.
His steps echo and quake
His voice silent and fake.
His hands folded, his blades sheaved;
His peace is an act, his goal simulated.
Sleep on and on, as a great green beast prowls;
About to commit a great fowl.
His enraged voice is on pause,
And his vengeance unhindered by laws.
Yet even he does not take note
Of the man clad in white, who views his actions as an antidote.
So sleep on and on, Sweet Beatrice
Believe yourself needless.
As your scent is caught
And all is almost for naught;
For your life is a con
And so you may survive on.
So the beast took flight
At the mere sight
of The man robed in white
Who simply stepped away from the fight.
"Sleep on and on, Sweet Beatrice;
For once you have survived,
And so cannot be revived;
For your life is a con
And now you may live on."
There he stood, upon that rocky ledge;
His wit as sharp as a hairs edge.
He recited as though from a scripture
His body stiff as a sculpture.
"Beatrice, Oh Beatrice, you are a Raven, a Trickster without Peer.
Yet all you have felt is fear.
A Raven is a thinker, with many a plot
Legendary in their control, yet you move with nary a thought.
Have you yet to wonder why?
Have you yet try to fly?"
"I can tell you why;
Its because no matter how hard you try;
Your life is a con,
And these emotions will never be gone.
You shall move without rhythm, see yourself as a felon;
So why do you try to live on?."
As though he were an actor, accommodated with the theatres
He moves to reveal his face's features
So he lets down his hood, and what does he reveal?
H̩̪̠̮̝͔̘͎͉̥͒̿̀̎̌̃͆̍͝͝e̟̹̞̭̺̗͈͓͐̑̎̔͒̍͒̕͘̚ͅͅ ͔͖̥̣̦͓͉̰̣͕̽͒̾͂͗͐͗͌̌̄h̡̛̙͈͍͇̹̙̤̫͕̒̈́̓̑̿̈́̉͗͑ą̛͚̪̹͚̩͕̞͓͕͐̐́̍̓̓̀̈́͘s̨̨̰̟͉̭̮̺͎͚̊̊̏̽̂̀͊̔͘̕ ̼̟̫̙̹̹̯͉̠͛͋͐̏͆͑̽̒͋͌͜ņ̧̛̜̗͍̜̤͚̯̤̎̒͂͒̌̿̀̎͝ǫ̧͙͕̘̥̣̘̾̄̎́̈͋̅̏͗͜͝ͅ ̛͎̱̼̻̞̖̗̖͍̊́͒̽͗̋̽̌̕ͅf̢̙͔̟̰̦̙̺̪̂͐̈̈́͌̎͋̆̚͜͝a̦̝̱̺̩̤͇͙͈̔́̓̄̀̑̒̊̍̐͜c̢̼̦͔̖̰͙̙̗̓̏̑̿̅́̐͋̔̓͜e̢̛̲̝̞̹̼̲̯̬͐͌̓̓̉̿̕͘͘ͅ
Something with no appeal.
T̳̙̙̥̼̝̞̮̣̠̔͐̀̀̄̿̐͊͂̈́ḧ̨̤̟̦͇̳͍̖̼́̏̀͂̐͑̒͗͒̆ͅę̡̛̰͕̮̱͚̙̮̑̀͛̂́̚̕̕͠ͅr̠͖̗̱̥̹̹͙̪͈̀̽͋̂̊̂͛́̾͝ḝ̤͙͇͖̠̹͈͈͚̑̂́̾̊͌͛́͝ ̡̛̩̦̥̼̝͖̘̝̞͌̾͛̋́̈͌́̏ǐ̧̛̦͓͉̮̖̥̠̩͍̒͗̔̏̃̀͆̕ş͍̻̜̻̬͚͚͂̍͛͂̆̈́̾̏͑̚͜ͅ ̙̲͖̘͈̗̘͍̙̒̋͆̃̃̽̀̾̈̕ͅs̢̡̠̥̺̘̗̗͙͚̊͂̉̃̉̎́͑͝͠o̧̦̝̘̞̞̠̠͕͂̌̅͑͑͛̍̀̊̃͜m̧̨̨̦̖͕̦̞̠͕̉̂̅́̋̒̇̕͝͝ȩ̣̬͇͙̗͈͕̤̖̏͒͌̇͗͐̇́̂͠ţ̢̧̜͙̻̝̹̺͔̆̀́͑̋̔̃͐̆̐h̨̛̫̤̙̤͙̫̠̗̫̽̃̈́͌̐͋̐͛́į̢̹̯̖͚̞̺͇̑̾͛̄͗͊̋̾͒̇͜n̨̟̫̟̟͍̖͕̞͐̈̈͋́̃̑͋̿̚ͅg̝͚͍͙̥͙̻͕̗͍̿̅̈̃͌̀̔̆̕͝,̛͉̙̦̘̻̭̠̰̝̤̍̽̒́̀̇́̚͝ ̡̡̢̜̬̪̱͕̫̑̀̎̀̃̔̍̆̕͝ͅŸ̡̨̹͖͖̲̹̬͚̗́́͛́͆̅̉̑̅́ë̯͚̫̮͔̺̻͓̣́̆͂͐̍͒̔̀̕͜͝ţ̯͍̳̗͎͍̲̝̾͐̀̓̐̅̇̿̄͘͜ ͇̳͙̰͔͎̮͙̳̃̋͑̈́́̔͘̕̕͝ͅt̻̩͙̺̟̺̫̳̤͎̔̀̓̇̈́̓̀̑̀̈́ḫ̢̡̱̬̝̦͇̘̋̀̈́̃̎̃͂̽̓͘͜ë̞̬̙̥̗̫̬̩̤̓̃͑́̃͊̉͗͝ͅr̗͎̰̪̹̥̬͓̤̩̎̉́̅͛́̕̚̚͠e̛̹͉̥̘̫̬̰̪͑̈́̔̍̈́̀̅̒̑ͅͅ ͓̥̲̜̲̘͎̩̦̝̈́̔̋̾̔̍̎̄͐̚i̡͍̠̼͎̝͖͉͍̰͆̈̉̿̈̓̒̒̓͝s͙̥̖̠̞̣̼̠̜̪̽̈́̾̾͗̍̄̄͘͝ ̡̢̡͍̻͔͚̠͔̂͗̈́͛͌͌̂̎̍̚ͅn̥̪̯̥̯̯͉̜̤̠̒͌̓̅͂̆́͒͘͠o͖̮͔̞͖̻̠͉̺̊̋̄̇̍͆̊̊̈́̚͜t̺͚͕͖̳͇̝̼̝̜̒͑̀̾̅̉̈̇͊͝h̡̡̢̳͔̮̫͓̫̬͗͐͗̎̆̅̀̈́͋̾ḯ̢̡̡̛̛͚̮̙͉͉̜́̄̌̆̈́̈͝ͅņ̘͇͚̱̥̹̹̪̿̽͊̋̿̉̐̑̈́̕͜g̥̣̪̞͓̩̱͉͎̟̓́̏̈͐̍͋̈̔͝.̨̺̱͚̻̹̗͖̳̜͂̈́͑̌̈́̒̒̕̚
All he does he stand guard, silent as the night
Ḩ̫̘̮͎̹̲̩̤̟̀̀́̾̈̏̂̿̾͂ę̹̘̹̞̰̺͙̼̤̇̑͆̒͌̊̉̃̓̏ ̺̹̜̰̬̥̬̻͉̟̄͋͑̀̒͛͊͑̕͠ẖ̹͙̲̗̗̺̬̱̼̑̽͌͐̈́͆̈́́̕͠ą̣̮͔̟̭͇͙̯̳͂́̓̽̍̈̐͘͝͠s̫̰̩̦̩̗̟͙̲͛̀͛̄̃̒̊̕̚͘͜ ̛͓̩͖̥̘̻͎͔͕̄̀̿̓̀͐̅̀̔ͅn̦̖̫̩̲̺̪͉͖͒̏͑̊̇̃̑͘͝͝ͅǫ͕̩̬̮͔͇̻̲̩̆̏̃͒̎͗̌̑͗̀ ̞͔̗͉̥̳̯͇̩͖̍̍̂̀́́̒͆̌̕f̻̲̘͖̳̬̖̣͚̈́̒͆͆͌̈́̇̈́͘̕͜ą̨͙͚̪̖̖̫̯̲͆͑̽̉̂̀̅̈́́͘ć̛̛͍̫̦̪̫̘̪͕̱̤́̒̾͋̇̆͋ę̨̲͓̦̭̪̬̩̭͂̔̎̀͛̅͊̈́̎͝.̡͈͈̲̞̭̮̼̣̙͋͌̅̒͛̽̀͆̓̚ ̡̲͖̺͕͇͈̟̪̅̎̋͆̉́̈́͛̎͘͜W̫̦͕̮̗̲̞̣̿̿̈́̍̂̂͊͑̚̚͜ͅh̺͍̭̗̲̮͍̪̮͚̓̃̅̉̽͂͒͘͘͝y̬̼̞͓̲̰̗̦̩̯͋̏̅͌̃̍̉̚͝͝ ̢̛̜̳̘͚̺̹̰͓̻̔͋͒͋̈̐̕͝͝d̨̛͚̖̤̦͖̦̘̈́̾͊͛̿̋͒̏̉͜ͅō̡̭͔̟̘̲͔̖̦̳̑̒̉͊̓́̈́̕͝é̛̥̖̮͍̱̹̤͕̞̋̒̐͋̏͋̃̕ͅş̼̥̮͓̣̮͔̤́́̏͒́̒͌́̕͜͝n̲͔̣͙̺̬̱̞̺̙̄̈́̊̑̇́͋͆̈́̋ț̛̩͔͖͈̘͉͍̘̳̔̌͊̔̿̄̇̊͗ ̧̱̘̹̫̠̲̣͍̭̐̿̄̒̈́̈́͌̕͘͠ḩ̢̡̣͓̗̪̬̗͙͒̎̈́̎͌̾̑̚͘͝ȩ͖͈̲̭͙͕̯̼͚̿̽̀̀̾̏̆̐̎͂ ̘̲̖̲̖̬̰̣̭̀͋͒͋̌̏͆̈̂̄ͅh͉̜̖͕̤̬̰͎̗̫̎͆̆̿͒̐́̃́͝à̧̞͇͓̰̩̰̗̪͎̍̅̄̈́̐̓̓̈́̈́v̡̧̝̘̦̥̺̟̲̾̀͂̊͋̎̀̈́̕͝ͅę̢̤̦̞̹̺̬̖̌̄̇͐̌̀̅̈́̎͘͜ ̱͙̹̯̰̖̻̳̝͐͐͌͋̂̅̇̕͠͠ͅậ̧̛̣̻̹̺͍̣̓̇̂̌͌͌̄̚͜ͅ ̡̜̟͈̥̖͖̲̲̣̉͒̏̆̌̔͊̑̓̏f̨͖̭̬̖̞̜̰͓̼̋̊̆̏̽̈͑̌̀͠ȧ̛̩̬̭͎̬̬͎̠̬͇̿̐̌̾͗̄̑̕c̨̛̛̩͉̝̻̣̹̘͚͐̇̏̋̐̒͜͠͠e̝̭̰̞̘͖̠͍̹̲̓͐͛̅̊͐̍̕̚̕?̨̹͓̻͇̩͉͕͍̱̈́̈̅̃̊̋̌̃̔̅
Not one twitch, not one breath - none to see within your sight.
W̛͍͔̫̠͕̦͔̦̘̰̉̇͂̈́͆́͌̉͝ẖ̖̫͍̞̺̝͕̥̽̂͋̉̇̓̾̌̂͝ͅą̡̖̗̹͎̤̠̤͈̍̀͑̒͛̀̐̍̕̕t̛̹͎̗̝̠̬͖̼̮̤͛̈́̎̑͂͂̎̒̏ ̨̛̙̯̺̻̣̻̦̼̾̍̈́̔̽̔͘͘̕ͅi̧̢̢̺͇͔̬͙͕͚͋̑̅͌̅̑̈́̓̕͝ṣ̗͙͉̯̬͕̖̰͑̋͆̍̓̏̔̔̕̕͜ ̢̛̲̲͍̙͉̟̟͍̫̎͐́̓͛͐̇͌̈́h̗̻̹̝̝̥͉͉̤̹͐͂̏̈̋̀͆̔̊̆ȩ̛͈̼̟͈͙̝͓̩͉̋͋̋͋̒́̆̉͐?͓̬͉̮̘̱̳͓̫͓́̐͐̈́͒̃͋̋̓̕ ̢͖̹̭̰̲̮̞̭͌̄̌̿͌͂̃̑̈́̕͜W̨͕̺̻̬͎̖̹͓̩͋̍͑̓̓͐͋̐͝͝h̪̥̗͚̲͙̝̲̝̾̍̓̐̈͋͊̀̎̉ͅą̛̛͔̙͔̠̯͓̩̻̫̂̂̂̓̽̊̏̿t̹̺͈̫͍̥̲̬̖̭̃̎̾͊̓̀́̑͝͝ ̧͉̤̱͚̝͉̲̹͑̓́͗̐̈́͑͛̊͆ͅą̡̘͖̘͔̝̤̞̹̀͐̌́͐̾̊̿̚͝r̢͙̪͙̥̣͇̗͇̙͑̓̀́̑͐̿̕̚͝e͍̺̲͍͙͇̦̖͇̒́͋̊̎̒͊̂̀͑͜ ̢̛̹̞̜̩̹̙̦͇̎̈́͐̀͒̅̎͊̚ͅt̻̘͕̥̟̱̥̩̙̣͋̌̈́̓̍́̅̽͠͝ḧ̨̢̯̼̮͇̲͔̦́̒̿̾̉̊͂̈́͘̚͜ò̡̝̱̤̠̹͈̤̰͂̐́͒̆̔̀̋͛ͅs̡̮̩͔̘̞̫̜̩̟͑͆͊̉̄̂̈́̿͘̚e̡̼͉̙̠̞͔̩̫̫̔̀̽̉̂̓̅͘͠͝ ̠̣̙̼͖͖̹͓̀̑̅̽̄̿̇̐͂̽͜ͅb̗̲̼̼̲̥̭̪̺͎͒̐̏̊̈͌́̈́̚͠l̘͙̙̠̼͖̠͚̝̞̃̔̌̄̐͒̑͒̃̏u̻̣̣̜̙͖̦̤̹̩̿̆͑́̒̾͐̀̀͝ę̭̮͓̖̪̹̥̬͓̃͌̇̅̽̃̌̀̈͝ ̗̹̮͓̪͓̜̼̳̠̈̌̀͂̉̈̂̕͝͠f̖͇̲̻͚̞̯̣͈͚̒́̔̒͋͑͌̃͗͊l̡̢͕͙̺͍̜͔̩͍̄̅̈́̅͋͛́͘͠͠à̢̢͇̺͔̹̖͕̗̖̈̆̏̀̆̿̍͒̚m͉̱͔̙̯͍̝̝̳̒̅͋̿͐́͊͘̕͜͠ę̛̩̺̥͉̗̹͚̰͍͑̌̆̑̔̃̈́̄̕s̢̛̼̜̘͔̩̯̙͇͐͒͗̐̈́̂͊͆͘ͅ?̨̨̜͇̳͇͙̼̂̎͆̎̄̇͊̈́͗̐͜ͅ
For he is just a man;
A devout person following a plan.
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1.5 - A Raven's Rhyme
"Beatrice, Sweet Beatrice, Sleeping on and on
Your life but a con
Fate has been cheated;
Another now Indebted.
Sleep on and on, in the midst of the night
When you cannot fight
Sleep on and on, as the visitor approaches
Clad in white, his face cloaked in darkness.
His steps echo and quake
His voice silent and fake.
His hands folded, his blades sheaved;
His peace is an act, his goal simulated.
Sleep on and on, as a great green beast prowls;
About to commit a great fowl.
His enraged voice is on pause,
And his vengeance unhindered by laws.
Yet even he does not take note
Of the man clad in white, who views his actions as an antidote.
So sleep on and on, Sweet Beatrice
Believe yourself needless.
As your scent is caught
And all is almost for naught;
For your life is a con
And so you may survive on.
So the beast took flight
At the mere sight
of The man robed in white
Who simply stepped away from the fight.
"Sleep on and on, Sweet Beatrice;
For once you have survived,
And so cannot be revived;
For your life is a con
And now you may live on."
There he stood, upon that rocky ledge;
His wit as sharp as a hairs edge.
He recited as though from a scripture
His body stiff as a sculpture.
"Beatrice, Oh Beatrice, you are a Raven, a Trickster without Peer.
Yet all you have felt is fear.
A Raven is a thinker, with many a plot
Legendary in their control, yet you move with nary a thought.
Have you yet to wonder why?
Have you yet try to fly?"
"I can tell you why;
Its because no matter how hard you try;
Your life is a con,
And these emotions will never be gone.
You shall move without rhythm, see yourself as a felon;
So why do you try to live on?."
As though he were an actor, accommodated with the theatres
He moves to reveal his face's features
So he lets down his hood, and what does he reveal?
H̩̪̠̮̝͔̘͎͉̥͒̿̀̎̌̃͆̍͝͝e̟̹̞̭̺̗͈͓͐̑̎̔͒̍͒̕͘̚ͅͅ ͔͖̥̣̦͓͉̰̣͕̽͒̾͂͗͐͗͌̌̄h̡̛̙͈͍͇̹̙̤̫͕̒̈́̓̑̿̈́̉͗͑ą̛͚̪̹͚̩͕̞͓͕͐̐́̍̓̓̀̈́͘s̨̨̰̟͉̭̮̺͎͚̊̊̏̽̂̀͊̔͘̕ ̼̟̫̙̹̹̯͉̠͛͋͐̏͆͑̽̒͋͌͜ņ̧̛̜̗͍̜̤͚̯̤̎̒͂͒̌̿̀̎͝ǫ̧͙͕̘̥̣̘̾̄̎́̈͋̅̏͗͜͝ͅ ̛͎̱̼̻̞̖̗̖͍̊́͒̽͗̋̽̌̕ͅf̢̙͔̟̰̦̙̺̪̂͐̈̈́͌̎͋̆̚͜͝a̦̝̱̺̩̤͇͙͈̔́̓̄̀̑̒̊̍̐͜c̢̼̦͔̖̰͙̙̗̓̏̑̿̅́̐͋̔̓͜e̢̛̲̝̞̹̼̲̯̬͐͌̓̓̉̿̕͘͘ͅ
Something with no appeal.
T̳̙̙̥̼̝̞̮̣̠̔͐̀̀̄̿̐͊͂̈́ḧ̨̤̟̦͇̳͍̖̼́̏̀͂̐͑̒͗͒̆ͅę̡̛̰͕̮̱͚̙̮̑̀͛̂́̚̕̕͠ͅr̠͖̗̱̥̹̹͙̪͈̀̽͋̂̊̂͛́̾͝ḝ̤͙͇͖̠̹͈͈͚̑̂́̾̊͌͛́͝ ̡̛̩̦̥̼̝͖̘̝̞͌̾͛̋́̈͌́̏ǐ̧̛̦͓͉̮̖̥̠̩͍̒͗̔̏̃̀͆̕ş͍̻̜̻̬͚͚͂̍͛͂̆̈́̾̏͑̚͜ͅ ̙̲͖̘͈̗̘͍̙̒̋͆̃̃̽̀̾̈̕ͅs̢̡̠̥̺̘̗̗͙͚̊͂̉̃̉̎́͑͝͠o̧̦̝̘̞̞̠̠͕͂̌̅͑͑͛̍̀̊̃͜m̧̨̨̦̖͕̦̞̠͕̉̂̅́̋̒̇̕͝͝ȩ̣̬͇͙̗͈͕̤̖̏͒͌̇͗͐̇́̂͠ţ̢̧̜͙̻̝̹̺͔̆̀́͑̋̔̃͐̆̐h̨̛̫̤̙̤͙̫̠̗̫̽̃̈́͌̐͋̐͛́į̢̹̯̖͚̞̺͇̑̾͛̄͗͊̋̾͒̇͜n̨̟̫̟̟͍̖͕̞͐̈̈͋́̃̑͋̿̚ͅg̝͚͍͙̥͙̻͕̗͍̿̅̈̃͌̀̔̆̕͝,̛͉̙̦̘̻̭̠̰̝̤̍̽̒́̀̇́̚͝ ̡̡̢̜̬̪̱͕̫̑̀̎̀̃̔̍̆̕͝ͅŸ̡̨̹͖͖̲̹̬͚̗́́͛́͆̅̉̑̅́ë̯͚̫̮͔̺̻͓̣́̆͂͐̍͒̔̀̕͜͝ţ̯͍̳̗͎͍̲̝̾͐̀̓̐̅̇̿̄͘͜ ͇̳͙̰͔͎̮͙̳̃̋͑̈́́̔͘̕̕͝ͅt̻̩͙̺̟̺̫̳̤͎̔̀̓̇̈́̓̀̑̀̈́ḫ̢̡̱̬̝̦͇̘̋̀̈́̃̎̃͂̽̓͘͜ë̞̬̙̥̗̫̬̩̤̓̃͑́̃͊̉͗͝ͅr̗͎̰̪̹̥̬͓̤̩̎̉́̅͛́̕̚̚͠e̛̹͉̥̘̫̬̰̪͑̈́̔̍̈́̀̅̒̑ͅͅ ͓̥̲̜̲̘͎̩̦̝̈́̔̋̾̔̍̎̄͐̚i̡͍̠̼͎̝͖͉͍̰͆̈̉̿̈̓̒̒̓͝s͙̥̖̠̞̣̼̠̜̪̽̈́̾̾͗̍̄̄͘͝ ̡̢̡͍̻͔͚̠͔̂͗̈́͛͌͌̂̎̍̚ͅn̥̪̯̥̯̯͉̜̤̠̒͌̓̅͂̆́͒͘͠o͖̮͔̞͖̻̠͉̺̊̋̄̇̍͆̊̊̈́̚͜t̺͚͕͖̳͇̝̼̝̜̒͑̀̾̅̉̈̇͊͝h̡̡̢̳͔̮̫͓̫̬͗͐͗̎̆̅̀̈́͋̾ḯ̢̡̡̛̛͚̮̙͉͉̜́̄̌̆̈́̈͝ͅņ̘͇͚̱̥̹̹̪̿̽͊̋̿̉̐̑̈́̕͜g̥̣̪̞͓̩̱͉͎̟̓́̏̈͐̍͋̈̔͝.̨̺̱͚̻̹̗͖̳̜͂̈́͑̌̈́̒̒̕̚
All he does he stand guard, silent as the night
Ḩ̫̘̮͎̹̲̩̤̟̀̀́̾̈̏̂̿̾͂ę̹̘̹̞̰̺͙̼̤̇̑͆̒͌̊̉̃̓̏ ̺̹̜̰̬̥̬̻͉̟̄͋͑̀̒͛͊͑̕͠ẖ̹͙̲̗̗̺̬̱̼̑̽͌͐̈́͆̈́́̕͠ą̣̮͔̟̭͇͙̯̳͂́̓̽̍̈̐͘͝͠s̫̰̩̦̩̗̟͙̲͛̀͛̄̃̒̊̕̚͘͜ ̛͓̩͖̥̘̻͎͔͕̄̀̿̓̀͐̅̀̔ͅn̦̖̫̩̲̺̪͉͖͒̏͑̊̇̃̑͘͝͝ͅǫ͕̩̬̮͔͇̻̲̩̆̏̃͒̎͗̌̑͗̀ ̞͔̗͉̥̳̯͇̩͖̍̍̂̀́́̒͆̌̕f̻̲̘͖̳̬̖̣͚̈́̒͆͆͌̈́̇̈́͘̕͜ą̨͙͚̪̖̖̫̯̲͆͑̽̉̂̀̅̈́́͘ć̛̛͍̫̦̪̫̘̪͕̱̤́̒̾͋̇̆͋ę̨̲͓̦̭̪̬̩̭͂̔̎̀͛̅͊̈́̎͝.̡͈͈̲̞̭̮̼̣̙͋͌̅̒͛̽̀͆̓̚ ̡̲͖̺͕͇͈̟̪̅̎̋͆̉́̈́͛̎͘͜W̫̦͕̮̗̲̞̣̿̿̈́̍̂̂͊͑̚̚͜ͅh̺͍̭̗̲̮͍̪̮͚̓̃̅̉̽͂͒͘͘͝y̬̼̞͓̲̰̗̦̩̯͋̏̅͌̃̍̉̚͝͝ ̢̛̜̳̘͚̺̹̰͓̻̔͋͒͋̈̐̕͝͝d̨̛͚̖̤̦͖̦̘̈́̾͊͛̿̋͒̏̉͜ͅō̡̭͔̟̘̲͔̖̦̳̑̒̉͊̓́̈́̕͝é̛̥̖̮͍̱̹̤͕̞̋̒̐͋̏͋̃̕ͅş̼̥̮͓̣̮͔̤́́̏͒́̒͌́̕͜͝n̲͔̣͙̺̬̱̞̺̙̄̈́̊̑̇́͋͆̈́̋ț̛̩͔͖͈̘͉͍̘̳̔̌͊̔̿̄̇̊͗ ̧̱̘̹̫̠̲̣͍̭̐̿̄̒̈́̈́͌̕͘͠ḩ̢̡̣͓̗̪̬̗͙͒̎̈́̎͌̾̑̚͘͝ȩ͖͈̲̭͙͕̯̼͚̿̽̀̀̾̏̆̐̎͂ ̘̲̖̲̖̬̰̣̭̀͋͒͋̌̏͆̈̂̄ͅh͉̜̖͕̤̬̰͎̗̫̎͆̆̿͒̐́̃́͝à̧̞͇͓̰̩̰̗̪͎̍̅̄̈́̐̓̓̈́̈́v̡̧̝̘̦̥̺̟̲̾̀͂̊͋̎̀̈́̕͝ͅę̢̤̦̞̹̺̬̖̌̄̇͐̌̀̅̈́̎͘͜ ̱͙̹̯̰̖̻̳̝͐͐͌͋̂̅̇̕͠͠ͅậ̧̛̣̻̹̺͍̣̓̇̂̌͌͌̄̚͜ͅ ̡̜̟͈̥̖͖̲̲̣̉͒̏̆̌̔͊̑̓̏f̨͖̭̬̖̞̜̰͓̼̋̊̆̏̽̈͑̌̀͠ȧ̛̩̬̭͎̬̬͎̠̬͇̿̐̌̾͗̄̑̕c̨̛̛̩͉̝̻̣̹̘͚͐̇̏̋̐̒͜͠͠e̝̭̰̞̘͖̠͍̹̲̓͐͛̅̊͐̍̕̚̕?̨̹͓̻͇̩͉͕͍̱̈́̈̅̃̊̋̌̃̔̅
Not one twitch, not one breath - none to see within your sight.
W̛͍͔̫̠͕̦͔̦̘̰̉̇͂̈́͆́͌̉͝ẖ̖̫͍̞̺̝͕̥̽̂͋̉̇̓̾̌̂͝ͅą̡̖̗̹͎̤̠̤͈̍̀͑̒͛̀̐̍̕̕t̛̹͎̗̝̠̬͖̼̮̤͛̈́̎̑͂͂̎̒̏ ̨̛̙̯̺̻̣̻̦̼̾̍̈́̔̽̔͘͘̕ͅi̧̢̢̺͇͔̬͙͕͚͋̑̅͌̅̑̈́̓̕͝ṣ̗͙͉̯̬͕̖̰͑̋͆̍̓̏̔̔̕̕͜ ̢̛̲̲͍̙͉̟̟͍̫̎͐́̓͛͐̇͌̈́h̗̻̹̝̝̥͉͉̤̹͐͂̏̈̋̀͆̔̊̆ȩ̛͈̼̟͈͙̝͓̩͉̋͋̋͋̒́̆̉͐?͓̬͉̮̘̱̳͓̫͓́̐͐̈́͒̃͋̋̓̕ ̢͖̹̭̰̲̮̞̭͌̄̌̿͌͂̃̑̈́̕͜W̨͕̺̻̬͎̖̹͓̩͋̍͑̓̓͐͋̐͝͝h̪̥̗͚̲͙̝̲̝̾̍̓̐̈͋͊̀̎̉ͅą̛̛͔̙͔̠̯͓̩̻̫̂̂̂̓̽̊̏̿t̹̺͈̫͍̥̲̬̖̭̃̎̾͊̓̀́̑͝͝ ̧͉̤̱͚̝͉̲̹͑̓́͗̐̈́͑͛̊͆ͅą̡̘͖̘͔̝̤̞̹̀͐̌́͐̾̊̿̚͝r̢͙̪͙̥̣͇̗͇̙͑̓̀́̑͐̿̕̚͝e͍̺̲͍͙͇̦̖͇̒́͋̊̎̒͊̂̀͑͜ ̢̛̹̞̜̩̹̙̦͇̎̈́͐̀͒̅̎͊̚ͅt̻̘͕̥̟̱̥̩̙̣͋̌̈́̓̍́̅̽͠͝ḧ̨̢̯̼̮͇̲͔̦́̒̿̾̉̊͂̈́͘̚͜ò̡̝̱̤̠̹͈̤̰͂̐́͒̆̔̀̋͛ͅs̡̮̩͔̘̞̫̜̩̟͑͆͊̉̄̂̈́̿͘̚e̡̼͉̙̠̞͔̩̫̫̔̀̽̉̂̓̅͘͠͝ ̠̣̙̼͖͖̹͓̀̑̅̽̄̿̇̐͂̽͜ͅb̗̲̼̼̲̥̭̪̺͎͒̐̏̊̈͌́̈́̚͠l̘͙̙̠̼͖̠͚̝̞̃̔̌̄̐͒̑͒̃̏u̻̣̣̜̙͖̦̤̹̩̿̆͑́̒̾͐̀̀͝ę̭̮͓̖̪̹̥̬͓̃͌̇̅̽̃̌̀̈͝ ̗̹̮͓̪͓̜̼̳̠̈̌̀͂̉̈̂̕͝͠f̖͇̲̻͚̞̯̣͈͚̒́̔̒͋͑͌̃͗͊l̡̢͕͙̺͍̜͔̩͍̄̅̈́̅͋͛́͘͠͠à̢̢͇̺͔̹̖͕̗̖̈̆̏̀̆̿̍͒̚m͉̱͔̙̯͍̝̝̳̒̅͋̿͐́͊͘̕͜͠ę̛̩̺̥͉̗̹͚̰͍͑̌̆̑̔̃̈́̄̕s̢̛̼̜̘͔̩̯̙͇͐͒͗̐̈́̂͊͆͘ͅ?̨̨̜͇̳͇͙̼̂̎͆̎̄̇͊̈́͗̐͜ͅ
For he is just a man;
A devout person following a plan.
-0-0-0-
Yawning, you almost stretch yourself out as you awake, before stopping to reconsider things for a moment, last night's memories – your angry revelations and your somewhat frantic search for shelter – came to you, and with them, the memory that stretching would result in banging your head against a small cave's ceiling.
Drearily blinking as you moan in the way that distinctly clues you in to the fact that regardless of how fast you seem to be thinking you are not a morning person, you turn your body from the turned over position it had come to rest in that had faced the small alcoves insides and to look at the rising sun, a honestly terrible idea in your opinion, considering your now in-pain eyes.
Forcing yourself to adjust to the daylight as you half-crawled and half-dragged yourself out of the alcove and onto the ledge, you stand and stretch, your tired muscles almost groaning in protest, as you forced yourself awake by stopping to think for a moment.
Your hunger – currently kept in check, existing as barely a light craving – was satisfied for now; your little escapade as a raven, however, hadn't solved the issue of hydration, yet for some reason, you felt perfectly fine. No parched throat or dried lips; you, quite frankly, weren't going to question this new development, because it was going to help keep you alive.
This meant, for the first time in quite a while, you had the chance to head towards the village whose tallest building's rooftops you could see even now, with a few chimneys already billowing smoke as businesses opened. You still planned on heading there, trying to find help, or simply find a place to live and settle down for a short time, perhaps find some work – you had no money, you could say that for sure – there were no lumps or added weights in your robes.
Perhaps you should try to come up with a more detailed plan; something to go off of and stick to when things seemingly and inevitably went wrong. Or – a glance at the sun confirmed this – you had more than enough time to sit down and at least try to test out one of your many strange and apparent oddities.
A sudden burst of wind sent you wobbling, almost causing you to fall off of the edge of the ledge you had been simply standing upon, a single strand of white –White?- hair blowing across your eyes as you had become lost in thought yet again. Struck by the sudden realization of where you were standing, almost certainly blushing, you carefully lower yourself down off of the ledge, finding the same footholds and positions to grab that you had on your way up, and lowered yourself down to the floor of the miniature mountain pass.
Finding yourself in a safe position, you resolved to come up with a plan of action, here and now.
[X] Proceed to the town, and once there [Write in; give a plan.)
[X] Stay here and try to test or figure out [Write in] before heading to the village and [Write in; give a plan.]
[X] Write In
A shorter chapter, and far before the update date; I came up with the poem while sitting around bored in my computer lab, having decided the votes for this thread were essentially set in stone by now. This ultimately resulted in this, which I decided would be a decent enough 'Sorry for going on a over one month long hiatus' gift; and now to write the SB thread update, which you guys made a bit of a long one by wanting to go around the village.
….Which I may or May not still be designing in a concrete way, and therefore forgot to make interesting character for the Inn beyond caricatures I'm trying to flush out.
There are also no dice rolls. Again. Now if only I wasn't forced to double post...
EDIT: Before I forget, Open Consensus mode is opened! DISCUSS YOUR PLANS!
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LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
[X] Stay here and try to test or figure out [Write in] before heading to the village and [Write in; give a plan.]
-[X] Check if you've got any money on you.
[X] Proceed to the town, and once there...
-[X] If you have money, go see if you can drink from a clean well or buy something to drink.
-[X] Walk around and observe the locals, their culture, customs and most important of all, their money.
-[X] Check if you've got any money on you.
[X] Proceed to the town, and once there...
-[X] If you have money, go see if you can drink from a clean well or buy something to drink.
-[X] Walk around and observe the locals, their culture, customs and most important of all, their money.
- Location
- Lost in Hell
Meta gamiiiiiiii~ng!
Sb thread was updated too Hannz.
Sb thread was updated too Hannz.
LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
What else are we supposed to do? Wander around aimlessly?
- Location
- Lost in Hell
...Rely on extradimenional devices that are now Interfering with us based on rolls I made but havent revealed to get us some nice divergance points?What else are we supposed to do? Wander around aimlessly?
Er, I mean... nothing?