You're not quite sure where you are, who you are. Not even if you've been here before. There's...
"This is new, right?" [Reboot]
- Thread starter Solsticegelan
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- Ongoing
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Statistics (15 threadmarks, 19k words)
User Total Solsticegelan 15 -
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The Start; It Begins Again.
- Location
- Lost in Hell
You're not quite sure where you are, who you are. Not even if you've been here before. There's nothing around you, a murky blackness overtaking your vision, as you stare back at the blackness. You're vaguely aware that it feels like your floating, drifting softly to and thro; as though the nothing you rest upon spread out upon was the surface of the ocean, yet one you had been submerged under.
You grin slightly, relaxed. The feeling of the murky blackness was actually quite comparable to the water; it was warm, permeating. You could get quite used to this; After all, you were fairly certain you didn't get to relax like this that much before.
"Before?" You realize, your voice distorted and unrecognizable. "Then this is an After."
That's all you say before relaxing again, not quite caring about the mystery of you or your location, simply enjoying it all in the limitlessness of an ironically limited space. Up above you, hovering in what you hope is the sky, lights flicker; Orbs, close enough that if you had the ability to reach out you felt you might reach them, but knew you could not. They glow with vibrant neon light, shifting and churning the darkness around them, leaving an afterglow of long lasting streaks. There was something it reminded you of, though you knew you had never seen it… The Aurora Borealis? Yes, you were confident that was what it reminded you of.
The lights are growing larger now; should you feel worried? They grow less and less distinct, and you can make out shapes dancing within. You squint, unsure of if it will even work, and to your surprise it does; you can more clearly make out the shapes within, each of them clearly animals of some type. There are 7 each, 7 different colors, and each is beautiful.
They begin to spread out now, six of them dancing and weaving around the light in the center; the arcs they traveled in growing larger and more distant from one another. Then, one by one, the lights began to flicker; fading until nothing remains; not even the dimmest flicker of their light in the darkness. First is the blue light, dark as the ocean and disturbing the air as it flew. Then went the gray light, its absence barely noticed. Then the Green and the Orange, tricky and clever though they might have been. Finally, only three lights remain. Two of them, dancing around each other rather than the center light; a yellow star, shining bright as it ascended rather than descended.
The two remaining lights dance, as they grow closer to you; making clear what is at their center. A Dove, innocent and carefree, dancing at the center of a white light. A Raven, bloodhungry but wise, carefully treading its ground. You want to reach up, to reach with all your strength to touch one of them... but they are too far. They last longer than the others, much longer; but eventually, they too fade and vanish into the dark. The yellow light, growing more distant, is all that remains; and then even that pops.
"No..." You frown. "Come back, please..."
Then, as suddenly as they vanished, one returns. It hovers just above you, urging you to muster all of your will to reach, stretching up to touch…
[] A Raven, glowing with a murderous red light.
[] A Cat, dying the blackness around it gray.
[] A Fox, stealing away the darkness with an orange glow.
[] A Falcon, its wings disturbing the air around it with a blue glow.
[] A Snake, tingeing the air a mottled green.
[] A Rabbit, meekly emboldening the air with a golden-yellow light.
[] A Dove, piercing the Darkness with a lovely white light.
Standing upon a Cliffside, A woman looks down upon her child, the lights of a town glowing softly in the distance. The clouds cover the moon as the stars wink down upon her, and she sighs, the black cloth coating her body tightly from her feet to her neck, the material not wielding even the slightest hint of her body to the world both naturally and when exposed to the light.
A light breeze disturbs her black 'hair', artificial and braided into long, large segments; the moon peeks out from the clouds, only partly illuminating her face, which is covered by a bone white mask, slightly curved, covering all of her face, and bending around to cover even her ears, anything it missed obscured and hidden by the fake hair that was a part of it. The light shined brighter, revealing more of her body in the vague light, from the medallion emboldened by an odd symbol broadly displayed upon her chest and hung by her neck to the odd obsidian gloves she wore.
Yet it did not reveal even the slightest trace of her eyes, the darkness around the holes in the mask only as empty as the void.
"I am sorry, My Child." She softly whispers, the sound unobscured by the mask she wore as she turned, quietly fading away into the night. She knows she cannot face the cycle of what is to come yet again.
Well, what does one do when they have a hankering to write a quest and their current, rapid update quest hasn't had a vote in weeks? Reboot the quest that you were unhappy with before and stopped updating before! I'm still going to retain my previous idea, which was to run two threads simultaneously and watch what happens. It will be posted tomorrow on Spacebattles, and then be linked to. Now, there are some other things you need to vote on, similar to the last quest. For Starters;
Age
[] Young, Barely an Adult
[] A more aged individual, well past their Youthful Teenage years
Your Name.
[] (Name Here) (Reason Why.)
Which are going to be unchanged from the previous quest, so name away! Finally, due to changes to how things operate that I have made since I started the previous quest....
Gender
[] Male
[] Female
Yep, the Gender is completely and totally locked due to things that will be revealed later in the quest. As has most of the world you had set out before you. So then... Have fun! Voting ends Wednesday at 2PM Eastern Standard time.
Edit: As of 4/11/2017, the Spacebattles thread is up.
You grin slightly, relaxed. The feeling of the murky blackness was actually quite comparable to the water; it was warm, permeating. You could get quite used to this; After all, you were fairly certain you didn't get to relax like this that much before.
"Before?" You realize, your voice distorted and unrecognizable. "Then this is an After."
That's all you say before relaxing again, not quite caring about the mystery of you or your location, simply enjoying it all in the limitlessness of an ironically limited space. Up above you, hovering in what you hope is the sky, lights flicker; Orbs, close enough that if you had the ability to reach out you felt you might reach them, but knew you could not. They glow with vibrant neon light, shifting and churning the darkness around them, leaving an afterglow of long lasting streaks. There was something it reminded you of, though you knew you had never seen it… The Aurora Borealis? Yes, you were confident that was what it reminded you of.
The lights are growing larger now; should you feel worried? They grow less and less distinct, and you can make out shapes dancing within. You squint, unsure of if it will even work, and to your surprise it does; you can more clearly make out the shapes within, each of them clearly animals of some type. There are 7 each, 7 different colors, and each is beautiful.
They begin to spread out now, six of them dancing and weaving around the light in the center; the arcs they traveled in growing larger and more distant from one another. Then, one by one, the lights began to flicker; fading until nothing remains; not even the dimmest flicker of their light in the darkness. First is the blue light, dark as the ocean and disturbing the air as it flew. Then went the gray light, its absence barely noticed. Then the Green and the Orange, tricky and clever though they might have been. Finally, only three lights remain. Two of them, dancing around each other rather than the center light; a yellow star, shining bright as it ascended rather than descended.
The two remaining lights dance, as they grow closer to you; making clear what is at their center. A Dove, innocent and carefree, dancing at the center of a white light. A Raven, bloodhungry but wise, carefully treading its ground. You want to reach up, to reach with all your strength to touch one of them... but they are too far. They last longer than the others, much longer; but eventually, they too fade and vanish into the dark. The yellow light, growing more distant, is all that remains; and then even that pops.
"No..." You frown. "Come back, please..."
Then, as suddenly as they vanished, one returns. It hovers just above you, urging you to muster all of your will to reach, stretching up to touch…
[] A Raven, glowing with a murderous red light.
[] A Cat, dying the blackness around it gray.
[] A Fox, stealing away the darkness with an orange glow.
[] A Falcon, its wings disturbing the air around it with a blue glow.
[] A Snake, tingeing the air a mottled green.
[] A Rabbit, meekly emboldening the air with a golden-yellow light.
[] A Dove, piercing the Darkness with a lovely white light.
-0-0-0-
Standing upon a Cliffside, A woman looks down upon her child, the lights of a town glowing softly in the distance. The clouds cover the moon as the stars wink down upon her, and she sighs, the black cloth coating her body tightly from her feet to her neck, the material not wielding even the slightest hint of her body to the world both naturally and when exposed to the light.
A light breeze disturbs her black 'hair', artificial and braided into long, large segments; the moon peeks out from the clouds, only partly illuminating her face, which is covered by a bone white mask, slightly curved, covering all of her face, and bending around to cover even her ears, anything it missed obscured and hidden by the fake hair that was a part of it. The light shined brighter, revealing more of her body in the vague light, from the medallion emboldened by an odd symbol broadly displayed upon her chest and hung by her neck to the odd obsidian gloves she wore.
Yet it did not reveal even the slightest trace of her eyes, the darkness around the holes in the mask only as empty as the void.
"I am sorry, My Child." She softly whispers, the sound unobscured by the mask she wore as she turned, quietly fading away into the night. She knows she cannot face the cycle of what is to come yet again.
Well, what does one do when they have a hankering to write a quest and their current, rapid update quest hasn't had a vote in weeks? Reboot the quest that you were unhappy with before and stopped updating before! I'm still going to retain my previous idea, which was to run two threads simultaneously and watch what happens. It will be posted tomorrow on Spacebattles, and then be linked to. Now, there are some other things you need to vote on, similar to the last quest. For Starters;
Age
[] Young, Barely an Adult
[] A more aged individual, well past their Youthful Teenage years
Your Name.
[] (Name Here) (Reason Why.)
Which are going to be unchanged from the previous quest, so name away! Finally, due to changes to how things operate that I have made since I started the previous quest....
Gender
[] Female
Yep, the Gender is completely and totally locked due to things that will be revealed later in the quest. As has most of the world you had set out before you. So then... Have fun! Voting ends Wednesday at 2PM Eastern Standard time.
Edit: As of 4/11/2017, the Spacebattles thread is up.
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Character Sheet
- Location
- Lost in Hell
-
Image Unavailable
Name: Beatrice
Gender: Female
Age: 21
Backstory: Unavailable.
-
Health: 50/60
Mana: ???
Armor: 20
Status: Enraged.
Strength: 3
Consitution: 3
Agility: 5
Intelligence: 4
Wisdom: 6
Luck: 2
Control: 1
Stat Changes
- None Available
-
Blue Flames: You vomited them once, and they can be summoned if you will it. That's about all you know.
- Sub Ability; The Fire's Cost:You are capable of instinctively summoning the Blue Flames in the palm of your hand, warming your body and healing you over time. They may be used for a number of causes, but are hard to retain control over; when used, must pass a DC 70 Control Check or suffer the consequences. The more it is used and the faster it is used the more you will be healed.
- Base Heal; 5 HP.
- Doesn't appear to work on the Strange Fox.
- Sub Ability; The Fire's Cost:You are capable of instinctively summoning the Blue Flames in the palm of your hand, warming your body and healing you over time. They may be used for a number of causes, but are hard to retain control over; when used, must pass a DC 70 Control Check or suffer the consequences. The more it is used and the faster it is used the more you will be healed.
- ???
- ???
-
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Rules and the GM's System.
- Location
- Lost in Hell
Dice Rolls
I use a system based off of hundred sided die, with rules that differ inside and outside of combat. It is fairly obvious how this will work - there will be a difficulty number that you must roll higher than, and this can be applied to a great many things. A number of rolls will be passive - checks to see if you realize something in battle, or notice some vital detail, or manage to retain or gain the upper hand in a conversation. Others will be made in response to your actions or the voter's suggestions, to hit an enemy or overcome some physical challenge. Rules for combat will be clarified once it comes to that.There will be modifiers added to your rolls; the majority of them due to your stats. For every point in a stat, when attempting a roll which uses the appropriate stat, an additional six sided die will be rolled and added to the initial roll. In addition, gaining some sort of advantage or disadvantage will add additional modifiers to your rolls, if they do not outright reduce or increase the necessary check to succeed.
You will not be the only one required to roll; all NPC's, allies, and enemies will have to roll as well, and will have their own stats.
For this Quest, a roll of a natural one hundred will be considered a critical success and a natural one will be considered a critical failure.
What are the stats used for?
Strength rolls are used when using melee weapons, attempting to lift or move something, or when undergoing some sort of difficult task that can be physically contested. It is a representation of your maximum capabilities rather than your endurance or how long you are able to keep going.
Constitution rolls are used to determine how long and how far you can keep moving; when running a mile, when struggling to overcomr a poison, or when shrugging away blows and hits.It is a representation of your endurance rather than your power, of how far you can go rather than your outright strength.
Agility is your speed, your reflexes, and your reaction speed all rolled into one. It is how fast you can move to dodge the dragons breath, how quickly you could draw your weapons, how destroys your fingers and body may be in moving out of something's way.
Intelligence is your minds edge, your wit and your knowledge. It is used to overcome great mental challenges, to gain the upper hand in a conversation or puzzle out someone's deeper meaning or intent. It is used for a wide variety of things, as it represents your ability to overcome anything your body cannot.
Wisdom is used for and employed in many of the same ways as your intelligence, but in a different form. It represents how wise you are or have become, to assume based on more than logic than fact; it is your willpower for overcoming great task or assaults.
Luck is the least tangible of all things. It is almost always passive, employed when discovering random encounters or for variables outside of your control - that which is probability based.
Control is different from your wisdom,or your intelligence. It is your strength of self, how close your are to your mind and your soul as you define yourself and as you truly are. It is used when struggling with your identity in some way, shape, or form. It represents you.
Constitution rolls are used to determine how long and how far you can keep moving; when running a mile, when struggling to overcomr a poison, or when shrugging away blows and hits.It is a representation of your endurance rather than your power, of how far you can go rather than your outright strength.
Agility is your speed, your reflexes, and your reaction speed all rolled into one. It is how fast you can move to dodge the dragons breath, how quickly you could draw your weapons, how destroys your fingers and body may be in moving out of something's way.
Intelligence is your minds edge, your wit and your knowledge. It is used to overcome great mental challenges, to gain the upper hand in a conversation or puzzle out someone's deeper meaning or intent. It is used for a wide variety of things, as it represents your ability to overcome anything your body cannot.
Wisdom is used for and employed in many of the same ways as your intelligence, but in a different form. It represents how wise you are or have become, to assume based on more than logic than fact; it is your willpower for overcoming great task or assaults.
Luck is the least tangible of all things. It is almost always passive, employed when discovering random encounters or for variables outside of your control - that which is probability based.
Control is different from your wisdom,or your intelligence. It is your strength of self, how close your are to your mind and your soul as you define yourself and as you truly are. It is used when struggling with your identity in some way, shape, or form. It represents you.
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LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
I vaguely remember this quest from before!
Now, did we use the Dove for SB and the Raven for SV, or was it the other way around?
Let me check.
[X] A Raven, glowing with a murderous red light.
[X] Young, Barely an Adult
[X] (Beatrice) (Beatrice means "She Who Makes Happy" and Ravens in mythology are usually Tricksters. I find it novel that we, Beatrice, can bring false hope, light and love to those around us intentionally and not.)
[X] Female
Gotta bring that old spice back, ya know?
Now, did we use the Dove for SB and the Raven for SV, or was it the other way around?
Let me check.
[X] A Raven, glowing with a murderous red light.
[X] Young, Barely an Adult
[X] (Beatrice) (Beatrice means "She Who Makes Happy" and Ravens in mythology are usually Tricksters. I find it novel that we, Beatrice, can bring false hope, light and love to those around us intentionally and not.)
[X] Female
Gotta bring that old spice back, ya know?
- Location
- Lost in Hell
I kind of just stopped updating at a certain point, with life eating away at the time I had to freely update one of the two quests once per day at a quality that I was satisfied with (or with a currency system/jokes I don't look at with disgust now. Even then I must have asked myself, why did I make a magic witch cougar?). With my current schedule free for several months, I do plan on retaining my previous schedule, though; updating this quest Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and the other quest Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Sunday won't receive any updates as I work on other stuff or simply further plan out the details of events to come.
I admit I also have a hankering to get back to Beatrice and Laqueta, though my decision to outright reboot the quest was because I didn't view what I had before as entirely salvageable. In the meantime, though... Hey, look at that! I figured out how tabs work!
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Dromeosaur
Feathery Raptor of snowy planes and frozen sea
- Location
- The land of Trees and Squirrels
[X] A Raven, glowing with a murderous red light.
[X] Young, Barely an Adult
[X] (Beatrice) (Beatrice means "She Who Makes Happy" and Ravens in mythology are usually Tricksters. I find it novel that we, Beatrice, can bring false hope, light and love to those around us intentionally and not.)
[X] Female
[X] Young, Barely an Adult
[X] (Beatrice) (Beatrice means "She Who Makes Happy" and Ravens in mythology are usually Tricksters. I find it novel that we, Beatrice, can bring false hope, light and love to those around us intentionally and not.)
[X] Female
- Location
- Lost in Hell
Votes are in, and Beatrice has won once again. I'll post the first update tonight and update the character sheet now.
[X] A Raven, glowing with a murderous red light.
[X] Young, Barely an Adult
[X] (Beatrice) (Beatrice means "She Who Makes Happy" and Ravens in mythology are usually Tricksters. I find it novel that we, Beatrice, can bring false hope, light and love to those around us intentionally and not.)
[X] Female
Number of voters: 2
Hannz, Dromeosaur
[X] A Fox, stealing away the darkness with an orange glow.
[X] Young, Barely an Adult
[X] Sophia
Number of voters: 1
veekie
[X] A Raven, glowing with a murderous red light.
[X] Young, Barely an Adult
[X] (Beatrice) (Beatrice means "She Who Makes Happy" and Ravens in mythology are usually Tricksters. I find it novel that we, Beatrice, can bring false hope, light and love to those around us intentionally and not.)
[X] Female
Number of voters: 2
Hannz, Dromeosaur
[X] A Fox, stealing away the darkness with an orange glow.
[X] Young, Barely an Adult
[X] Sophia
Number of voters: 1
veekie
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- Location
- Lost in Hell
I apologize, but voting ended over an hour ago, which is why I counted up the tallies. For future reference, the times I close voting ( usually 2 days after I post the update) will be stated at the end of each post. If any extensions will be given, they will be stated; such cases will most often occur if there is no clear outcome, or if I know I wont be available to update the normal day.
Spacebattles votes are still open though, and I've updated the Character Sheet.
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1.1 - A Raven's Name.
- Location
- Lost in Hell
You reach up, using all of your will to stretch your hand upwards, barely passing by the Raven's light. You hold your hand there for what seems to be an eternity, and as the raven descends upon it, its light enveloping you as your hand remains held high, the raven simply sits there, perched upon your tilted hand, and its sharp talons don't truly register to you, even as your hand begins to bleed. The light of the others grow fainter, you realize; they're leaving. Or perhaps it is the light from the raven, already enveloping your entire body, which is causing the others to fade?
The raven stares at you, with orange eyes bloodshot by green veins.
You stare back.
The raven stares at you, with orange eyes bloodshot by green veins.
You stare back.
-0-0-0-
Slowly, you begin to wake up; the cold is unbearable, and you have no idea why. It's beginning to make you feel quite ill, honestly; your stomach churning and your head pulsing. You try to open your eyes and push your body upward from whatever soft surface your face had laid itself in; and the moment you do, you are tempted to close them. Snow is blown into your eyes and blurs your vision, and you are now aware of why you felt so cold; it is the wind, chilling you to your bone now that you've placed yourself into a sitting position.
"Where am I?" You ask aloud. You hope that someone can hear you, that you aren't just speaking to yourself.
There is no reply.
You'll have to get moving, then. Take note of the environment, find some kind of shelter. You're in a forest right now, sparsely packed, full of pine trees and the occasional leafless tree between them. Very close behind you rises the peak of a mountain, its silhouette disturbingly close. Close enough that you can't see its base. That implies that you're somewhere higher up the mountain itself, and you're drawing a blank on how you might have found yourself in this sort of situation. You're drawing a great many blanks right now, actually.
"Worry about that later, worry about my safety now," You mutter, shifting your legs a bit so that you're kneeling. "...and worry about me talking to myself later too." You add, wobbling a bit and lurching forward as you succeed at standing up.
You immeadiatly regret your decision, as your stomach decides now is a good time to empty itself. A vile taste fills your mouth as you stain the snow a yellow, its scent burning your nostrils. It just goes on, and on, until you finally stop and are left gasping for air; its puddle managing to even melt the snow a little in its vast quantities. Then, you feel more rise; and fall onto the ground in pain as you start to dry heave. It lasts at least as long as the actual vomiting had, before you feel something else rise; a liquid again. Now, you're hacking up something red, which joins the cooling puddle you had already made.
Your blood.
Finally, you stop; no more dry heaving, no more vomit, no more blood. You feel empty, totally and completely empty. Understandable, when you spent an indefinite amount of time removing what must have been every liquid you could from your body. You don't quite care, though; curling up a bit and closing your eyes to try to get the pain to stop. More time passes and you're sure you would be crying if you could. Eventually, the pain does stop. You dare to open your eyes again, and look at what you had just done. The puddle of vomit and your blood sits in the otherwise perfectly white snowy landscape, and scattered among it, you see the remains of dying blue flames.
That was not normal. What conclusion could you even try drawing from that? That was new, right? You're certain you would remember doing that before, even if you couldn't remember what you were doing here. It wasn't normal for you to wake up, miraculously not die from exposure, and be left drawing ragged breaths as you hugged your knees. You were certain of that, at least. You could remember that, and you could remember....
...Remember...
"Oh god." You whisper. It is as loud as you can speak for the moment. "Why can't I remember? What's... what's my name?" It is a sudden revelation. A bad one. You hadn't consciously thought of it yet, but you couldn't remember anything. Your family - if you even had one - , your childhood, not even what you had eaten yesterday. If you had eaten anything at all. You didn't like the odds of that, considering your current condition. But then again, you had just vomited something up earlier.
You needed something. Something to keep you going for the moment, that you could hold onto. You knew, here and now, that you would survive. You were determined to do that, to make yourself remember who you were. But you wanted a reason to do that. You needed... your name. You hadn't forgotten it, not yet. Not in its entirety.
"Beatrice." You say to yourself. It's so quiet that you almost can't hear it above the winds and your throbbing head. But it is enough. You don't need to shout out to the heavens to prove that you know who you are.
...Well, no, you don't know that actually. You can't recall your hobbies, your pastimes, your passions. But you know what you are called. And that is enough for now. Right here, right now, in this moment, it will have to be. You actually smile to yourself, knowing that you at least have that. But then that momentary happiness is gone as you remember where you are.
You will have to stand, eventually. Walk away to do what you intended to earlier, and discover exactly where you were. There were more reasons to do that now, though. To find shelter, perhaps; someplace to warm yourself before you actually did die from exposure. You could try finding something that could jog your memory, to see if you recalled anything about your location. Maybe you had a home nearby, and a nasty fall had made you forget? You could even go and try to simply find some form of civilization to begin with, to see if anyone recognizes you or if you recognize anyone there. That carried that added bonus of finding civilization, but the drawback of you having no idea where that might be.
Or, the gnawing in your stomach reminded you, you could go looking for something to eat. Fill yourself with something besides whatever the sludge that had once been inside you now had been.
There are many courses of action. Which will you take?
[] Try to find shelter, or someplace mildly safer than where you are now.
[] Get the lay of the land, and try to discover where you are.
[] Attempt to find something to jog your memory.
[] Go looking for civilization.
[] Write in.
Voting will end Friday at 6pm Eastern Standard time. Your character sheet has been updated to reflect what you currently know. If any parts of this look messy or seem a bit hard to understand (I.E needlessly vague), I'll be fixing them later to be more coherent.
"Where am I?" You ask aloud. You hope that someone can hear you, that you aren't just speaking to yourself.
There is no reply.
You'll have to get moving, then. Take note of the environment, find some kind of shelter. You're in a forest right now, sparsely packed, full of pine trees and the occasional leafless tree between them. Very close behind you rises the peak of a mountain, its silhouette disturbingly close. Close enough that you can't see its base. That implies that you're somewhere higher up the mountain itself, and you're drawing a blank on how you might have found yourself in this sort of situation. You're drawing a great many blanks right now, actually.
"Worry about that later, worry about my safety now," You mutter, shifting your legs a bit so that you're kneeling. "...and worry about me talking to myself later too." You add, wobbling a bit and lurching forward as you succeed at standing up.
You immeadiatly regret your decision, as your stomach decides now is a good time to empty itself. A vile taste fills your mouth as you stain the snow a yellow, its scent burning your nostrils. It just goes on, and on, until you finally stop and are left gasping for air; its puddle managing to even melt the snow a little in its vast quantities. Then, you feel more rise; and fall onto the ground in pain as you start to dry heave. It lasts at least as long as the actual vomiting had, before you feel something else rise; a liquid again. Now, you're hacking up something red, which joins the cooling puddle you had already made.
Your blood.
Finally, you stop; no more dry heaving, no more vomit, no more blood. You feel empty, totally and completely empty. Understandable, when you spent an indefinite amount of time removing what must have been every liquid you could from your body. You don't quite care, though; curling up a bit and closing your eyes to try to get the pain to stop. More time passes and you're sure you would be crying if you could. Eventually, the pain does stop. You dare to open your eyes again, and look at what you had just done. The puddle of vomit and your blood sits in the otherwise perfectly white snowy landscape, and scattered among it, you see the remains of dying blue flames.
That was not normal. What conclusion could you even try drawing from that? That was new, right? You're certain you would remember doing that before, even if you couldn't remember what you were doing here. It wasn't normal for you to wake up, miraculously not die from exposure, and be left drawing ragged breaths as you hugged your knees. You were certain of that, at least. You could remember that, and you could remember....
...Remember...
"Oh god." You whisper. It is as loud as you can speak for the moment. "Why can't I remember? What's... what's my name?" It is a sudden revelation. A bad one. You hadn't consciously thought of it yet, but you couldn't remember anything. Your family - if you even had one - , your childhood, not even what you had eaten yesterday. If you had eaten anything at all. You didn't like the odds of that, considering your current condition. But then again, you had just vomited something up earlier.
You needed something. Something to keep you going for the moment, that you could hold onto. You knew, here and now, that you would survive. You were determined to do that, to make yourself remember who you were. But you wanted a reason to do that. You needed... your name. You hadn't forgotten it, not yet. Not in its entirety.
"Beatrice." You say to yourself. It's so quiet that you almost can't hear it above the winds and your throbbing head. But it is enough. You don't need to shout out to the heavens to prove that you know who you are.
...Well, no, you don't know that actually. You can't recall your hobbies, your pastimes, your passions. But you know what you are called. And that is enough for now. Right here, right now, in this moment, it will have to be. You actually smile to yourself, knowing that you at least have that. But then that momentary happiness is gone as you remember where you are.
You will have to stand, eventually. Walk away to do what you intended to earlier, and discover exactly where you were. There were more reasons to do that now, though. To find shelter, perhaps; someplace to warm yourself before you actually did die from exposure. You could try finding something that could jog your memory, to see if you recalled anything about your location. Maybe you had a home nearby, and a nasty fall had made you forget? You could even go and try to simply find some form of civilization to begin with, to see if anyone recognizes you or if you recognize anyone there. That carried that added bonus of finding civilization, but the drawback of you having no idea where that might be.
Or, the gnawing in your stomach reminded you, you could go looking for something to eat. Fill yourself with something besides whatever the sludge that had once been inside you now had been.
There are many courses of action. Which will you take?
[] Try to find shelter, or someplace mildly safer than where you are now.
[] Get the lay of the land, and try to discover where you are.
[] Attempt to find something to jog your memory.
[] Go looking for civilization.
[] Write in.
Voting will end Friday at 6pm Eastern Standard time. Your character sheet has been updated to reflect what you currently know. If any parts of this look messy or seem a bit hard to understand (I.E needlessly vague), I'll be fixing them later to be more coherent.
Last edited:
- Location
- St. Petersburg
[x] Go looking for civilization.
We have a lot of questions, and not a lot of people to ask. This needs to be remedied.
Oh God, what is up with our stats? Did they transfer from the last session, or were the dice terrible to us? Maybe they are just reflecting our condition?
We have a lot of questions, and not a lot of people to ask. This needs to be remedied.
Oh God, what is up with our stats? Did they transfer from the last session, or were the dice terrible to us? Maybe they are just reflecting our condition?
Last edited:
- Location
- Lost in Hell
I don't know if I've stated this or not yet, but your stats were dependent upon who you voted for and what their age was, not on my rolling dice to determine the stat. Well, this time around they were. They're a reflection of the character, and I would've listed any changes below Stat Changes.
For example, if you remember Beatrice's last outing, she had horrible self control,and the respective roll was fairly reflective of that as well. She folded in on her instincts when she changed her shape so often I had to step in to prevent a preemptive bad end.
As for the stats, each point in a stat adds a d6 to rolls this time around rather than just the stat itself. I know that I've stated this one before in the rules post but to give some perspective, most stats cap out at 10, which would be extremely good ( Because you could roll anywhere from +10 to +60, enough to carry you out of even the most abysmal rolls.) and some characters might even have had negative stats. Several npc's and enemies do.
1.2 - A Raven's Prediciment
- Location
- Lost in Hell
You could do none of what you planned without knowing where you were. To find a place to rest, you would need to know where you rested from. Scouting out the landscape and familiarizing yourself with where, exactly, you were would go a long way to help you. You struggle to stand, and begin to walk against the wind, towards the forest. You can feel the ground gradually begin to slope downwards,the slope gradually growing more noticeable the longer you walked.
It was hard to pick out noteworthy details in the snowy environment; your vision was limited by the numerous trees and thick snowfall, which carried the unfortunate effect of melting against your eyes, blurring your vision. What little you could see was all white, vaguely defined textures as the landscape changed, but otherwise couldn't be differentiated from anything else.
After minutes of walking and shivering, you are forced to stop. There is no longer any ground to walk on; the trees stopping and forming what might be a line as the land dropped away to form a cliff's edge.
"I had to be right?..." You ask yourself. You aren't willing to move closer to the edge and peer over the side of what was most certainly a mountain, especially when you couldn't accurately determine where exactly said edge was, but you were more than willing to bet you were a fair distance up the mountain. You begin to back away from the edge so that if the snow began to crumble and fall, you would not fall with it. You didn't know what, exactly, the odds of such a thing occurring were, but you were willing to bet against yourself surviving if you grew closer to the edge. Instead, you elected to start walking around the outskirts of the trees, trying to make sure you stayed a constant distance from the edge; moving clockwise from where you had initially stood. Eventually, you found you couldn't move any further, your path taking you to the base of the looming mountaintop you had seen earlier. The solid ground you stood upon dropped away, spiked ledges and sharp drops replacing the ground. There didn't seem to be any way for you to walk down from there, and you were starting to feel numb. You needed to find someplace safe, fast. You continued to move clockwise, alongside the rising mountains peak now, in the hope that you could find something helpful.
You didn't see many other options at your disposal.
Perhaps most helpfully, the trees were largest and densest this close to the rising mountain; they shielded you from most of the snow and wind, making your conditions more bearable. It allowed you to focus more on the environment than you otherwise could've, including the mountain peak now to your side. It, most certainly, looked scaleable. Trees even upon the mountain as it rose up, and if you tried to make it out, you could see small trails that you were certain animals like mountain goats would travel upon, though you most certainly would have a hard time climbing them if you wished. That wasn't important at the moment, though. Shelter was. Probably.
You needed a better plan.
You sped up, walking faster; and soon came to see a similar predicament to what you had seen before. This side of the mountain you were on was similar to what you had encountered on the other side; a steep drop and stop, jagged and rocky ground rising up and becoming more manageable as it rose. No luck there, either. You turn, and begin to walk into the woods. It is now apparent that however you got up here, there is now no way down unless you could fly, or at least none that you could see or manage in your current condition.
Now, you needed to figure out what this forest was like. So far, you had seen its outskirts; and to be frank, there wasn't much to see. Still, you might be able to find something.
Intelligence Roll: 17 + 15 (4d6); total 32. Failure.
Constitution Roll: 75 + 7 (3d6); total 82. Success.
Moving through the woods, you hope to move deeper into the Woods's with the hopes of discovering some natural landscape or formation that could shelter you; but by the time you've paced throughout the whole of the woods, you've found little of note. Several boulders and trees that have fallen over are all that stands out to you; now, you suppose you must move deeper into the woods once more. To try to find someplace warmer - because it is so, so very cold now. You've lost all sensation in your toes, and your clothes very clearly weren't made for this weather. You hadn't fully examined them yet, but you seemed to be wearing some sort of bright red dress, adorned with elaborate designs and folds. It reminded you of some sort of ballgown dress, albeit one you would gladly wear. That little detail paled in comparison to the fact you could no longer feel your toes. Or your fingers.
By the end your search, you had found nothing to provide you shelter. You felt as though you were on your last legs, though you kept on moving; to stop moving now and fall over would mean the end of you. If you couldn't find any shelter, you would have to make your own.
Wisdom Roll: 89 +18(6d6); total 107. Success.
After a moments thought, you get to work on a rudimentary shelter. You find a large pine tree that had fallen over, seemingly struck by lightning; it had fallen at a horizontal angle, which was what you wanted. Then, you gather branches from the oaks, as many as you can can; you don't hope to start a fire, not in a storm and with every flammable object you can find covered in snow. But you can bind them together to make sure that you sleep on something relatively solid. Then, you run out of things to do, save for sit down and do all you can to warm yourself as you try to wait out the storm.
There is, of course, also hoping that you do not die. A look at your hands tells you that they are frostbitten, and you still feel weak, having found nothing to eat or drink, though both were distant hopes even from the beginning. You makeshift shelter felt slightly warmer and shielded you from the snow, but it was at best just a buffer. You couldn't see the sun through the clouds, but it felt as though it had been several hours since you awoke. There had been no signs of change, nor any signs of you being able to do anything.... but wait.
Unless, of course, you had a better idea as to what to do.
[] Sleep away the storm.
[] Try to make yourself comfortable (and warm), before figuring out what you know about yourself.
[] Write in.
So, er, sorry for the delay in posting this. I got distracted while packing for vacation and forgot to finish the update, and still feel as though it needs a bit of work. I'll probably be constantly editing it until tomorrow. Anyway, your character sheet has been updated and voting will end at 6pm Eastern Standard time this Monday.
Updates should start getting longer as well, gradually but surely. It's hard to write character into an update when you're trying to focus on not dying in the cold and figuring out where you are.
It was hard to pick out noteworthy details in the snowy environment; your vision was limited by the numerous trees and thick snowfall, which carried the unfortunate effect of melting against your eyes, blurring your vision. What little you could see was all white, vaguely defined textures as the landscape changed, but otherwise couldn't be differentiated from anything else.
After minutes of walking and shivering, you are forced to stop. There is no longer any ground to walk on; the trees stopping and forming what might be a line as the land dropped away to form a cliff's edge.
"I had to be right?..." You ask yourself. You aren't willing to move closer to the edge and peer over the side of what was most certainly a mountain, especially when you couldn't accurately determine where exactly said edge was, but you were more than willing to bet you were a fair distance up the mountain. You begin to back away from the edge so that if the snow began to crumble and fall, you would not fall with it. You didn't know what, exactly, the odds of such a thing occurring were, but you were willing to bet against yourself surviving if you grew closer to the edge. Instead, you elected to start walking around the outskirts of the trees, trying to make sure you stayed a constant distance from the edge; moving clockwise from where you had initially stood. Eventually, you found you couldn't move any further, your path taking you to the base of the looming mountaintop you had seen earlier. The solid ground you stood upon dropped away, spiked ledges and sharp drops replacing the ground. There didn't seem to be any way for you to walk down from there, and you were starting to feel numb. You needed to find someplace safe, fast. You continued to move clockwise, alongside the rising mountains peak now, in the hope that you could find something helpful.
You didn't see many other options at your disposal.
Perhaps most helpfully, the trees were largest and densest this close to the rising mountain; they shielded you from most of the snow and wind, making your conditions more bearable. It allowed you to focus more on the environment than you otherwise could've, including the mountain peak now to your side. It, most certainly, looked scaleable. Trees even upon the mountain as it rose up, and if you tried to make it out, you could see small trails that you were certain animals like mountain goats would travel upon, though you most certainly would have a hard time climbing them if you wished. That wasn't important at the moment, though. Shelter was. Probably.
You needed a better plan.
You sped up, walking faster; and soon came to see a similar predicament to what you had seen before. This side of the mountain you were on was similar to what you had encountered on the other side; a steep drop and stop, jagged and rocky ground rising up and becoming more manageable as it rose. No luck there, either. You turn, and begin to walk into the woods. It is now apparent that however you got up here, there is now no way down unless you could fly, or at least none that you could see or manage in your current condition.
Now, you needed to figure out what this forest was like. So far, you had seen its outskirts; and to be frank, there wasn't much to see. Still, you might be able to find something.
Intelligence Roll: 17 + 15 (4d6); total 32. Failure.
Constitution Roll: 75 + 7 (3d6); total 82. Success.
Moving through the woods, you hope to move deeper into the Woods's with the hopes of discovering some natural landscape or formation that could shelter you; but by the time you've paced throughout the whole of the woods, you've found little of note. Several boulders and trees that have fallen over are all that stands out to you; now, you suppose you must move deeper into the woods once more. To try to find someplace warmer - because it is so, so very cold now. You've lost all sensation in your toes, and your clothes very clearly weren't made for this weather. You hadn't fully examined them yet, but you seemed to be wearing some sort of bright red dress, adorned with elaborate designs and folds. It reminded you of some sort of ballgown dress, albeit one you would gladly wear. That little detail paled in comparison to the fact you could no longer feel your toes. Or your fingers.
By the end your search, you had found nothing to provide you shelter. You felt as though you were on your last legs, though you kept on moving; to stop moving now and fall over would mean the end of you. If you couldn't find any shelter, you would have to make your own.
Wisdom Roll: 89 +18(6d6); total 107. Success.
After a moments thought, you get to work on a rudimentary shelter. You find a large pine tree that had fallen over, seemingly struck by lightning; it had fallen at a horizontal angle, which was what you wanted. Then, you gather branches from the oaks, as many as you can can; you don't hope to start a fire, not in a storm and with every flammable object you can find covered in snow. But you can bind them together to make sure that you sleep on something relatively solid. Then, you run out of things to do, save for sit down and do all you can to warm yourself as you try to wait out the storm.
There is, of course, also hoping that you do not die. A look at your hands tells you that they are frostbitten, and you still feel weak, having found nothing to eat or drink, though both were distant hopes even from the beginning. You makeshift shelter felt slightly warmer and shielded you from the snow, but it was at best just a buffer. You couldn't see the sun through the clouds, but it felt as though it had been several hours since you awoke. There had been no signs of change, nor any signs of you being able to do anything.... but wait.
Unless, of course, you had a better idea as to what to do.
[] Sleep away the storm.
[] Try to make yourself comfortable (and warm), before figuring out what you know about yourself.
[] Write in.
So, er, sorry for the delay in posting this. I got distracted while packing for vacation and forgot to finish the update, and still feel as though it needs a bit of work. I'll probably be constantly editing it until tomorrow. Anyway, your character sheet has been updated and voting will end at 6pm Eastern Standard time this Monday.
Updates should start getting longer as well, gradually but surely. It's hard to write character into an update when you're trying to focus on not dying in the cold and figuring out where you are.
Last edited:
- Location
- St. Petersburg
I felt cold just by reading that.
[x] Try to make yourself comfortable (and warm), before figuring out what you know about yourself.
-[x] Try to figure out how you ended up on the mountain. Perhaps something on your person can give you a clue?
-[x] Try to think of a way to warm yourself up. Speaking of, didn't you... conjure flames? Well, more spat them out than conjured, but the point stands. Flames are usually warm, right? Maybe you could even start a fire!
It is time to SCIENCE us straight into a Bad End. Or it may just work! I am feeling luky, and no stat score is going to dissuade me!
[x] Try to make yourself comfortable (and warm), before figuring out what you know about yourself.
-[x] Try to figure out how you ended up on the mountain. Perhaps something on your person can give you a clue?
-[x] Try to think of a way to warm yourself up. Speaking of, didn't you... conjure flames? Well, more spat them out than conjured, but the point stands. Flames are usually warm, right? Maybe you could even start a fire!
It is time to SCIENCE us straight into a Bad End. Or it may just work! I am feeling luky, and no stat score is going to dissuade me!
LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
[x] Try to make yourself comfortable (and warm), before figuring out what you know about yourself.
-[x] Try to figure out how you ended up on the mountain. Perhaps something on your person can give you a clue?
-[x] Try to think of a way to warm yourself up. Speaking of, didn't you... conjure flames? Well, more spat them out than conjured, but the point stands. Flames are usually warm, right? Maybe you could even start a fire!
Sleeping in blizzards is bad.
That's what movies told me, and they never lie!
-[x] Try to figure out how you ended up on the mountain. Perhaps something on your person can give you a clue?
-[x] Try to think of a way to warm yourself up. Speaking of, didn't you... conjure flames? Well, more spat them out than conjured, but the point stands. Flames are usually warm, right? Maybe you could even start a fire!
Sleeping in blizzards is bad.
That's what movies told me, and they never lie!
[x] Try to make yourself comfortable (and warm), before figuring out what you know about yourself.
-[x] Try to figure out how you ended up on the mountain. Perhaps something on your person can give you a clue?
-[x] Try to think of a way to warm yourself up. Speaking of, didn't you... conjure flames? Well, more spat them out than conjured, but the point stands. Flames are usually warm, right? Maybe you could even start a fire!
-[x] Try to figure out how you ended up on the mountain. Perhaps something on your person can give you a clue?
-[x] Try to think of a way to warm yourself up. Speaking of, didn't you... conjure flames? Well, more spat them out than conjured, but the point stands. Flames are usually warm, right? Maybe you could even start a fire!
1.3 - A Raven becomes like a Phoenix
- Location
- Lost in Hell
Your makeshift shelter had so far served you well, successfully shielding you from the worst of the freezing winds and snow. You've had time to watch the clouds now, spread as far as you can see; they're dark and heavy, obscuring all signs of the sky around them. It showed absolutely no signs of relenting, nor of the sky that they hid. You could swear that in the distance, hidden by the wavering cold, there was the distant flash of lightning and thunder, though you had yet to hear anything.
Considering your height within the mountains, you considered this a good thing. You didn't need any avalanches happening any time soon.
Rather unfortunately, wherever there was good and bad news for you, there was worse news. You had no way of warming yourself up, nor of keeping yourself from getting colder - which might not sound bad, until you looked at your almost deathly pale hands, which you could barely move or feel. You're still not sure how you got up here, or who might be responsible for it; you most certainly aren't capable of climbing a mountain in the middle of a storm, and you struggle to think of people who might. Then again, you struggled to think about people in the first place. You couldn't remember.... anyone. Anyone at all. Though that might be a good thing, considering you were beginning to think you had been placed up here to die a slow, painful death. Though yet again, most frustratingly, you couldn't say why.
You needed to figure this out, and soon. Shifting yourself into an upright position, you do your best to make sure you are as warm as possible, folding your knees up and holding them close to your chest. Now you are able to watch the distant storm as you think.
If you were going to die here, you wanted to think about what you knew about yourself. Perhaps it was just poor luck that your had gotten some form of amnesia, or intentional, to make you suffer. The lack of your identity.... it was eating away at the back of your head. It bothered you so intensely that you were beginning to think that the amnesia had been intentional, done to make you worry about the lack of your history. You didn't know it, but you felt that was a core part of you; your sense of identity.
The contradictions made you want to rip your hair out.
Even worse, those feelings were all you had. If you wanted to think of people,of friends, or of family, you had only vaguely fond feelings. Thinking of home didn't give any concrete locations, or even scenery, just a wide array of emotions you weren't ready to get into at the moment because it would probably involve some type of mental breakdown. It was quite concerning. To try to think deeper on any particular subject, be it the string of something nostalgic or the idea of yesterday, began to hurt - and severely. There were vague impressions as well, of a darkness and of 7 lights... and then it was gone.
It was all so incredibly unsatisfying. You needed answers, and nothing you could think of would help. Perhaps.... something on your person might help? You had yet to check yourself over, after all. There might be a chance that you or someone else had placed something useful on your person - or perhaps just something to further jog your memories.
Finally taking a look at it, your dress was...interesting, to say the least. Formal and elaborate, it was made from some fabric you couldn't identify, alongside a great helping of black feathers. The entire dress seemed to be an entire entity, its top merging into both the dress segment - which strongly resembled a trench-coat - and the equally elaborate pants. The top segment was primarily red and appeared silken, with everything above your chest being made from some tightly woven mesh of black feathers. It managed to show off just enough that you felt it was tasteful but not indecent. Below that, the red silk-like material was interwoven with symmetrical swirls of orange, curving upwards and towards you. Your sleeves were long, coming up to your hands, and even then partly extending outward onto them, fitting tightly onto your hand and showing no signs of moving. The color transformed from red to black at your wrist. A quick check revealed no way of removing the dress, nor any pockets.
You could feel something around your neck; a choker of some sorts. You hadn't noticed it before, but now that you had, you found it uncomfortable and stiff. You rip it off and shove it to the side, barely noting its black color or the onyx stone at its center.
Below the belt, however, was a luckily different story. The Trenchcoat like dress folded itself around your legs, its edges outlined with a golden trim; it was uncomfortably tough, and felt like it was trying to straighten itself out under your feet. Finally, were you hoped to find some hint of evidence, your pants. Relatively simple, the black legs were tucked into your boots, and contained numerous openings when you neared your waist. There, a cloth was wrapped around you, and checking inside of the numerous folds revealed spacious folds intended for storage. In fact, they were entirely too spacious; you almost thought you couldn't feel the pockets edges.
But still, there was nothing.
All you could do now was sit - sit and wait out the storm. In the time you had taken to investigate yourself, the flashes in the distance had grown closer, distinguishing themselves as thunder. And, with no methods of producing even a bit of heat, you could do nothing but sit.
There is an alternative, the back of your mind whispers. It provides an almost seductive thought. You'd conjured flames, hadn't you? Flames that burned and provided heat, your mind tempted.
But you had vomited them, you supplied. Spat them all over the ground amidst a a pool of your own blood. The implications of that alone...
Control Roll: 44 + 4(1d6); total 48. Failure.
It doesn't matter, you argue with yourself. You have no other option but to try.
You have no retort.
And so, you do as it - you- want. You reach within yourself, instinctively and without thought, and in one smooth motion...
Control Roll: 84 + 5(1d6); total 89. Success!
... extend your hand as your entire body begins to heat up. Then, from the palm of your hand, you see a single drop of blood swell up; dark and murky, it sits there, a tiny jewel. Your entire body has begun to burn up, now, the sensation you had begun to lose returning to you. Then, without warning, the single drop of blood ignites into a small blue flame. You jolt in surprise, whatever it was that had overtaken you no longer in effect, allowing you to feel unnatural elation. You feel warmer simply watching the flame, its azure light dyeing the entirety of your shelter blue, flickering in the palm of your hand.
You knew that it would only remain for as long as you wanted it to. But sustaining it felt good - warming not just your body, but your mind. You no longer knew what to do. This flame... it offered up so much potential. You wanted to make it burn.
You have regained 5 HP, and are no longer cold or frostbitten. Your Character sheet has been updated.
You have unlocked an unique subskill of Blue Flames: The Fire's Cost.
[X] Continue to burn the flame to keep yourself warm until the blizzard passes.
[X] Light a fire with the flames and put out the blue flames in your hand.
[X] Write in plan.
Voting will end Wednesday at Midnight Eastern Standard time due to my delays in posting.
Considering your height within the mountains, you considered this a good thing. You didn't need any avalanches happening any time soon.
Rather unfortunately, wherever there was good and bad news for you, there was worse news. You had no way of warming yourself up, nor of keeping yourself from getting colder - which might not sound bad, until you looked at your almost deathly pale hands, which you could barely move or feel. You're still not sure how you got up here, or who might be responsible for it; you most certainly aren't capable of climbing a mountain in the middle of a storm, and you struggle to think of people who might. Then again, you struggled to think about people in the first place. You couldn't remember.... anyone. Anyone at all. Though that might be a good thing, considering you were beginning to think you had been placed up here to die a slow, painful death. Though yet again, most frustratingly, you couldn't say why.
You needed to figure this out, and soon. Shifting yourself into an upright position, you do your best to make sure you are as warm as possible, folding your knees up and holding them close to your chest. Now you are able to watch the distant storm as you think.
If you were going to die here, you wanted to think about what you knew about yourself. Perhaps it was just poor luck that your had gotten some form of amnesia, or intentional, to make you suffer. The lack of your identity.... it was eating away at the back of your head. It bothered you so intensely that you were beginning to think that the amnesia had been intentional, done to make you worry about the lack of your history. You didn't know it, but you felt that was a core part of you; your sense of identity.
The contradictions made you want to rip your hair out.
Even worse, those feelings were all you had. If you wanted to think of people,of friends, or of family, you had only vaguely fond feelings. Thinking of home didn't give any concrete locations, or even scenery, just a wide array of emotions you weren't ready to get into at the moment because it would probably involve some type of mental breakdown. It was quite concerning. To try to think deeper on any particular subject, be it the string of something nostalgic or the idea of yesterday, began to hurt - and severely. There were vague impressions as well, of a darkness and of 7 lights... and then it was gone.
It was all so incredibly unsatisfying. You needed answers, and nothing you could think of would help. Perhaps.... something on your person might help? You had yet to check yourself over, after all. There might be a chance that you or someone else had placed something useful on your person - or perhaps just something to further jog your memories.
Finally taking a look at it, your dress was...interesting, to say the least. Formal and elaborate, it was made from some fabric you couldn't identify, alongside a great helping of black feathers. The entire dress seemed to be an entire entity, its top merging into both the dress segment - which strongly resembled a trench-coat - and the equally elaborate pants. The top segment was primarily red and appeared silken, with everything above your chest being made from some tightly woven mesh of black feathers. It managed to show off just enough that you felt it was tasteful but not indecent. Below that, the red silk-like material was interwoven with symmetrical swirls of orange, curving upwards and towards you. Your sleeves were long, coming up to your hands, and even then partly extending outward onto them, fitting tightly onto your hand and showing no signs of moving. The color transformed from red to black at your wrist. A quick check revealed no way of removing the dress, nor any pockets.
You could feel something around your neck; a choker of some sorts. You hadn't noticed it before, but now that you had, you found it uncomfortable and stiff. You rip it off and shove it to the side, barely noting its black color or the onyx stone at its center.
Below the belt, however, was a luckily different story. The Trenchcoat like dress folded itself around your legs, its edges outlined with a golden trim; it was uncomfortably tough, and felt like it was trying to straighten itself out under your feet. Finally, were you hoped to find some hint of evidence, your pants. Relatively simple, the black legs were tucked into your boots, and contained numerous openings when you neared your waist. There, a cloth was wrapped around you, and checking inside of the numerous folds revealed spacious folds intended for storage. In fact, they were entirely too spacious; you almost thought you couldn't feel the pockets edges.
But still, there was nothing.
All you could do now was sit - sit and wait out the storm. In the time you had taken to investigate yourself, the flashes in the distance had grown closer, distinguishing themselves as thunder. And, with no methods of producing even a bit of heat, you could do nothing but sit.
There is an alternative, the back of your mind whispers. It provides an almost seductive thought. You'd conjured flames, hadn't you? Flames that burned and provided heat, your mind tempted.
But you had vomited them, you supplied. Spat them all over the ground amidst a a pool of your own blood. The implications of that alone...
Control Roll: 44 + 4(1d6); total 48. Failure.
It doesn't matter, you argue with yourself. You have no other option but to try.
You have no retort.
And so, you do as it - you- want. You reach within yourself, instinctively and without thought, and in one smooth motion...
Control Roll: 84 + 5(1d6); total 89. Success!
... extend your hand as your entire body begins to heat up. Then, from the palm of your hand, you see a single drop of blood swell up; dark and murky, it sits there, a tiny jewel. Your entire body has begun to burn up, now, the sensation you had begun to lose returning to you. Then, without warning, the single drop of blood ignites into a small blue flame. You jolt in surprise, whatever it was that had overtaken you no longer in effect, allowing you to feel unnatural elation. You feel warmer simply watching the flame, its azure light dyeing the entirety of your shelter blue, flickering in the palm of your hand.
You knew that it would only remain for as long as you wanted it to. But sustaining it felt good - warming not just your body, but your mind. You no longer knew what to do. This flame... it offered up so much potential. You wanted to make it burn.
You have regained 5 HP, and are no longer cold or frostbitten. Your Character sheet has been updated.
You have unlocked an unique subskill of Blue Flames: The Fire's Cost.
[X] Continue to burn the flame to keep yourself warm until the blizzard passes.
[X] Light a fire with the flames and put out the blue flames in your hand.
[X] Write in plan.
Voting will end Wednesday at Midnight Eastern Standard time due to my delays in posting.
Last edited:
- Location
- St. Petersburg
We need to get her someone to talk to so that she would stop talking to creepy seductive flames in her head. Our poor control score guarantees that she will eventually let herself be talked into some disaster if left alone.
[X] Light a fire with the flames and put out the blue flames in your hand.
[X] Light a fire with the flames and put out the blue flames in your hand.
1.4 A Raven Ablaze
- Location
- Lost in Hell
The flames in the palm of your hands were entrancing, a dancing flower of temptation. You could see the ways it was waiting to be twisted in your palm, an extension of your will. You could feel it. The fire didn't want to be snuffed out any more than you did. It warmed you, and it filled you in a way you didn't understand and couldn't describe. You hesitated to even consider not letting the flames die down, change the amazing rhythm they currently pulsed to even a little bit. On a more practical, more logical note, you understood that this was your only source of heat. That without it, you would be left to the tender mercy of the storm that this fire seemed to heat up around you.
Therein lied the problem.
If you wanted to keep it going, to make more burn, you're not sure you could stop yourself from doing so. But to try and stop would be to condemn yourself to a cold, slow death yet again.
You needed to light a fire, and to put out the blue flames in your hand.
You weren't sure you could.
You begin to take apart the rickety wooden board of sticks you made, first digging away as much snow as you could until you hit dirt and stone. You then begin constructing what might resemble a bonfire's base, careful to ensure that you don't dare to use your right hand. It is difficult to do, the structure falling apart numerous times, but not as difficult as it would be for you to try and put out the fire. To try to control it once it started up again. Now, you cautiously reach out, daring to hope that the flames will not reach up and spread to the shelter you have constructed, firmly lodged in the snowy base you've made for it.
The flames dance down your palms, spiraling around your fingers and down to their tips; there they wait for a moment, for you to tell them to set the world alight. You want to tell them to leap from your hands, and light the fire so that it will warm you and you don't have to try to keep the fires in the palms of your hands.
Control Roll: 24 + 4(1d6); total 28. Failure....
So why don't you do any of that? The same instincts overcome you, your mind feeling warmer as instead of doing what you know you should you allow the flames to burst outwards. They form a constant cone, sputtering wildly and fiercely, but oh so beautifully. It is a work of art, so strong that you can feel yourself and your hand moving off course. You have to hold it straight with your other hand to stop it from moving upward, burning your shelter and the forest away.
Moments pass, the fire flickering upward and away from the cone. Snow has begun melting around you, with the snow furthest away slushing and sliding as it becomes a mushy slurry. There isn't a trace of a forest within your sight that hasn't bathed in the glow of your fire; Not even the clouds up above can escape being tinged the darkest shades of blue imaginable in its afterglow. Not a single spark dares to touch you, to flicker away from its chosen path and harm you instead.
None of them dared to.
Control Roll: 69 +3(1d6); total 72. Success!
All of your aches, all of your pain, even all your woes seemed to fade away the longer you held you hand straight. You almost forget that you're an amnesiac high up in the freezing cold mountains in a blizzard. For a time, you forget why you wanted to stop something so wonderful. Your hand begins to waver, and so does the cones path; igniting a small, lone tree. It erupts into flames flickering the same deep comforting shades as the others, an uncontrolled blaze that begins to melt everything around it. The snow in its branches does nothing to quell the fire's thirst, evaporating into nothing before it can even hit the ground.
This is when you remember why, and with a jolt, do everything you can to shut off the flames. It is as simple as turning a mental nozzle, tightening it like one would a screw. With that done, the stream coming from your palm shrunk and shrunk away to just a trickle before it became a few simple sparks, leaping from the palm of you hand, where the drop of blood had emerged. Then they stop as well, their thin glow fading.
You just lay there, panting and sweating, your hands shoved into the snow and with a mouth full of the taste of ash. Even the tree that you had accidentally lit ablaze no longer burns, all that remains of it being a black puddle of ashes.
There's only a hole that the snow begins to fall into near your feet.
Closing your eyes, you think its safe to conclude that everything had just gone horribly wrong.
You feel your head fall against the still warm snow.
What do you dream of?
[] Of Flames that want to Burn.
[] Of a Raven that wants to Fly and Eat.
[] Of a Young Woman training in her home.
[] Of a scared Dove.
You have regained 10 HP
There will be no write ins this time. That... that went wrong. I sort of expected you to pass the control roll on that one. But hey, at least you didn't burn down the whole forest! That would've happened if you failed the second roll... Voting ends Monday at 6PM Eastern Standard time.
Therein lied the problem.
If you wanted to keep it going, to make more burn, you're not sure you could stop yourself from doing so. But to try and stop would be to condemn yourself to a cold, slow death yet again.
You needed to light a fire, and to put out the blue flames in your hand.
You weren't sure you could.
You begin to take apart the rickety wooden board of sticks you made, first digging away as much snow as you could until you hit dirt and stone. You then begin constructing what might resemble a bonfire's base, careful to ensure that you don't dare to use your right hand. It is difficult to do, the structure falling apart numerous times, but not as difficult as it would be for you to try and put out the fire. To try to control it once it started up again. Now, you cautiously reach out, daring to hope that the flames will not reach up and spread to the shelter you have constructed, firmly lodged in the snowy base you've made for it.
The flames dance down your palms, spiraling around your fingers and down to their tips; there they wait for a moment, for you to tell them to set the world alight. You want to tell them to leap from your hands, and light the fire so that it will warm you and you don't have to try to keep the fires in the palms of your hands.
Control Roll: 24 + 4(1d6); total 28. Failure....
So why don't you do any of that? The same instincts overcome you, your mind feeling warmer as instead of doing what you know you should you allow the flames to burst outwards. They form a constant cone, sputtering wildly and fiercely, but oh so beautifully. It is a work of art, so strong that you can feel yourself and your hand moving off course. You have to hold it straight with your other hand to stop it from moving upward, burning your shelter and the forest away.
Moments pass, the fire flickering upward and away from the cone. Snow has begun melting around you, with the snow furthest away slushing and sliding as it becomes a mushy slurry. There isn't a trace of a forest within your sight that hasn't bathed in the glow of your fire; Not even the clouds up above can escape being tinged the darkest shades of blue imaginable in its afterglow. Not a single spark dares to touch you, to flicker away from its chosen path and harm you instead.
None of them dared to.
Control Roll: 69 +3(1d6); total 72. Success!
All of your aches, all of your pain, even all your woes seemed to fade away the longer you held you hand straight. You almost forget that you're an amnesiac high up in the freezing cold mountains in a blizzard. For a time, you forget why you wanted to stop something so wonderful. Your hand begins to waver, and so does the cones path; igniting a small, lone tree. It erupts into flames flickering the same deep comforting shades as the others, an uncontrolled blaze that begins to melt everything around it. The snow in its branches does nothing to quell the fire's thirst, evaporating into nothing before it can even hit the ground.
This is when you remember why, and with a jolt, do everything you can to shut off the flames. It is as simple as turning a mental nozzle, tightening it like one would a screw. With that done, the stream coming from your palm shrunk and shrunk away to just a trickle before it became a few simple sparks, leaping from the palm of you hand, where the drop of blood had emerged. Then they stop as well, their thin glow fading.
You just lay there, panting and sweating, your hands shoved into the snow and with a mouth full of the taste of ash. Even the tree that you had accidentally lit ablaze no longer burns, all that remains of it being a black puddle of ashes.
There's only a hole that the snow begins to fall into near your feet.
Closing your eyes, you think its safe to conclude that everything had just gone horribly wrong.
You feel your head fall against the still warm snow.
What do you dream of?
[] Of Flames that want to Burn.
[] Of a Raven that wants to Fly and Eat.
[] Of a Young Woman training in her home.
[] Of a scared Dove.
You have regained 10 HP
There will be no write ins this time. That... that went wrong. I sort of expected you to pass the control roll on that one. But hey, at least you didn't burn down the whole forest! That would've happened if you failed the second roll... Voting ends Monday at 6PM Eastern Standard time.
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