You That Remain

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It's raining.

It's always raining.

It should stop raining, sometimes, but it's always...
A Grey and Rain-filled City

Spectral Waltz

Scatterbrained Writer
Location
Walking the Endless Corridors
It's raining.

It's always raining.

It should stop raining, sometimes, but it's always raining.

You stand at the window as the rain falls, and everything is grey, grey grey.

A lifeless city of a thousand unlit windows and a thousand unwalked streets and ten thousand drops of rain drumming on the rooftops and surging through the gutters.

You don't know how long you've been staring out this window...

Behind you, a grey light flickers slightly, for an instant your eyes dilate, then go out of focus, and the trance of watching the rain fall endlessly down down down out of the black sky (Where to? Where from?) breaks for just a moment...

You see a glimpse of reflection in the light against the glass, a face, familiar and yet nondescript, grey and grey and grey, and yet...

[] It is a Woman's Face
[] It is a Man's Face


You blink, motion, a catch of the eye, even the backs of your eyelids are grey, but they serve as reprieve nonetheless.

Something stirs inside you...

You feel a spark of...

Choose One
[] Rage
[] Joy
[] Grief


For an instant, you feel warm...

Then the spark is gone and so too is the sensation, and yet, it persists beyond, in its reflection.

You were warm, and you are no longer warm, so you are cold.

This grey is cold and cold and cold.

You need to get out, out of this grey before it chills you and you forget what it is like to be warm again.

The Grey Door is there, but beside it rests a small grey table, and upon it sits an object that gleams in defiance of its grey, that seems to squirm with something repressed.

You reach out, and pick it up...

Choose One
[] A smooth pebble, perfectly shaped to fit into your palm, yet it seems to slip slightly no matter how you hold it. It evokes Innocence.
[] A crude flintlock, old and familiar in your grip, yet it feels wrong for you to be the one that wields it. It evokes Loss.
[] A broken-tipped knife, speckled with dots of dried blood and rust, yet its presence is a comfort. It evokes Protectiveness.
[] A weathered and blunted sword, a weight upon your arms, yet it reminds you to be confident. It evokes Passion.
[] A heavy crescent wrench, so large it takes two hands to lift, it does not feel as though it should be a weapon, yet it tells you that it is. It evokes Desperation.


"Time to go..." You whisper.

It hurts...
 
[X] It is a Woman's Face
[X] Grief
[X] A smooth pebble, perfectly shaped to fit into your palm, yet it seems to slip slightly no matter how you hold it. It evokes Innocence.
 
Character Sheet
Character Sheet
Elizabeth Gray
Status:
What's that sound? Headache, Feeling existential.
HP: 10/10

Equipped
Flintlock Pistol: Old and well used, familiar in your grip, yet it feels wrong for you to be the one that wields it. It evokes Loss.

Inventory
Bedroll, a few days food, candles, rope, empty journal.

Abilities
Scan: Assess an enemy in an attempt to comprehend its nature. May reveal certain powers, strengths, and weaknesses of a foe.
 
Last edited:
[X] It is a Woman's Face
[X] Joy
[X] A smooth pebble, perfectly shaped to fit into your palm, yet it seems to slip slightly no matter how you hold it. It evokes Innocence.
 
[X] It is a Man's Face
[X] Rage
[X] A heavy crescent wrench, so large it takes two hands to lift, it does not feel as though it should be a weapon, yet it tells you that it is. It evokes Desperation.

A wrench can be a surprisingly good impromptu weapon, what? No I'm not basing that off of Bioshock.:tongue:
 
[X] It is a Woman's Face
[X] Joy
[X] A weathered and blunted sword, a weight upon your arms, yet it reminds you to be confident. It evokes Passion

A sword for a hero!
 
[x] It is a Man's Face
[X] Grief
[x] A crude flintlock, old and familiar in your grip, yet it feels wrong for you to be the one that wields it. It evokes Loss.
 
[X] It is a Woman's Face
[X] Joy
[X] A weathered and blunted sword, a weight upon your arms, yet it reminds you to be confident. It evokes Passion

It starts with a spark of passion.
 
[X] It is a Woman's Face
[X] Joy
[X] A weathered and blunted sword, a weight upon your arms, yet it reminds you to be confident. It evokes Passion

Confidence is important, especially when bashing someone's skull in with the blunted sword.
 
[x] It is a Man's Face
[X] Grief
[x] A crude flintlock, old and familiar in your grip, yet it feels wrong for you to be the one that wields it. It evokes Loss.
 
[X] It is a Woman's Face
[X] Rage
[x] A crude flintlock, old and familiar in your grip, yet it feels wrong for you to be the one that wields it. It evokes Loss.


Adhoc vote count started by kinigget on Oct 23, 2017 at 5:54 PM, finished with 12 posts and 10 votes.

  • [X] It is a Woman's Face
    [X] Joy
    [X] A weathered and blunted sword, a weight upon your arms, yet it reminds you to be confident. It evokes Passion
    [X] It is a Man's Face
    [X] Grief
    [x] A crude flintlock, old and familiar in your grip, yet it feels wrong for you to be the one that wields it. It evokes Loss.
    [X] It is a Woman's Face
    [X] Grief
    [X] A smooth pebble, perfectly shaped to fit into your palm, yet it seems to slip slightly no matter how you hold it. It evokes Innocence.
    [X] It is a Woman's Face
    [X] Joy
    [X] A smooth pebble, perfectly shaped to fit into your palm, yet it seems to slip slightly no matter how you hold it. It evokes Innocence.
    [X] It is a Man's Face
    [X] Rage
    [X] A heavy crescent wrench, so large it takes two hands to lift, it does not feel as though it should be a weapon, yet it tells you that it is. It evokes Desperation.
    [X] It is a Woman's Face
    [X] Rage
    [x] A crude flintlock, old and familiar in your grip, yet it feels wrong for you to be the one that wields it. It evokes Loss.
    [X] It is a Woman's Face
    [X] Grief
    [x] A broken-tipped knife, speckled with dots of dried blood and rust, yet its presence is a comfort. It evokes Protectiveness.

Adhoc vote count started by kinigget on Oct 23, 2017 at 5:54 PM, finished with 12 posts and 10 votes.
 
[x] It is a Woman's Face
[X] Grief
[x] A broken-tipped knife, speckled with dots of dried blood and rust, yet its presence is a comfort. It evokes Protectiveness.


yay comfort
 
Hmm... Looks like we need to break a few ties here, probably going to leave votes open until after work then at the least.
Adhoc vote count started by Spectral Waltz on Oct 23, 2017 at 6:19 PM, finished with 13 posts and 10 votes.
 
Guess I'll break it.

[X] Joy
[x] A crude flintlock, old and familiar in your grip, yet it feels wrong for you to be the one that wields it. It evokes Loss.

So sad wrenchy didn't get any love.
Adhoc vote count started by MilitaryAaa on Oct 23, 2017 at 6:41 PM, finished with 18 posts and 12 votes.
 
[X] It is a Woman's Face
[X] Joy
[X] A smooth pebble, perfectly shaped to fit into your palm, yet it seems to slip slightly no matter how you hold it. It evokes Innocence.
 
[X] It is a Man's Face
[X] Rage
[X] A heavy crescent wrench, so large it takes two hands to lift, it does not feel as though it should be a weapon, yet it tells you that it is. It evokes Desperation.
 
A Black and End-Lacked Void.
[X] It is a Woman's Face
[X] Joy
[x] A crude flintlock, old and familiar in your grip, yet it feels wrong for you to be the one that wields it. It evokes Loss.


The smell of blood and gunsmoke. The wet thump of a body hitting the floor and the rattle of a final breath. Numbness of scorched fingertips and sting of bruised knuckles. The taste of copper and iron and salt.

The sight of the light leaving the traitor's eyes.

Revenge...


[] A Hand on your shoulder.
[] A Whisper in your ear.
[] A Blade at your neck.
[] Two arms wrapping around your torso


You step out into the rain and in an instant you are soaked to the skin, absorbed into the sheets of water falling from the black and cloudless sky. Only the faint chill of it's touch tells you where you end and the rain begins, and the thought that soon you might no longer understand that difference is frightening in ways you struggle to describe.

The touch of the water is nothing to the touch of fear.

Sloshing, you begin to walk, and walk. Grey and grey, no sense of space, even in the rain your footsteps somehow seem to echo off the buildings around you, as though to remind you.

Then it stops and falls away...

The water flows along the cobblestones, through the gutters, and off the edge. You stand at the precipice of a city come apart. The rain falls from the black sky into the black emptiness below, a pit without end, a void of hanging islands and interminable rain.

Below and a distance away, one floating chunk of rainswept grey is closer than the others.

The water runs around your feet, tugging at your ankles. It whispers in the silence, yet the roaring of the endless fall bring silence upon silence in turn, and the whispers are drowned, ended by their beginnings.

There is a weight upon your shoulders, a weight of choice.

[] Fall and Rise.
[] Jump and Strive.
[] Turn and Seek.
[] Wait and See.
 

[X] A Whisper in your ear.
[X] Turn and Seek.

To endlessly seek beyond the horizon is the calling of trailblazers. people and empires rise and fall but the journey is endless.
Adhoc vote count started by Crow on Oct 23, 2017 at 10:26 PM, finished with 29 posts and 7 votes.

Adhoc vote count started by Crow on Oct 24, 2017 at 7:19 AM, finished with 37 posts and 12 votes.
 
[x] Two arms wrapping around your torso
[x] Jump and Strive.
 
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