Roleplaying board in Spanish — games, stories, and systems.
Description
No.6994
/hisrol/ — Role in Spanish
Presentation
No.6998
Board Presentation — /hisrol/
This is Anatase's Spanish roleplaying board. You can use it to set up games with any system, turn-based strategy games, or simply to tell stories. You can also share anecdotes from your games.
You can have multiple active threads at the same time, as long as the previous one has reached the bump limit.
Rules
>Maintain a respectful tone with other participants.
>NSFW content goes in spoiler.
>No spam or derailing other threads.
>If a thread doesn't interest you, ignore it.
Bump limit: 200 posts. To roll dice type /roll{fórmula} in your post, for example 1d20 = 8.
This is Anatase's Spanish roleplaying board. You can use it to set up games with any system, turn-based strategy games, or simply to tell stories. You can also share anecdotes from your games.
You can have multiple active threads at the same time, as long as the previous one has reached the bump limit.
Rules
>Maintain a respectful tone with other participants.
>NSFW content goes in spoiler.
>No spam or derailing other threads.
>If a thread doesn't interest you, ignore it.
Bump limit: 200 posts. To roll dice type /roll{fórmula} in your post, for example 1d20 = 8.
New Thread
33 threads
·
4 pages
⋯
Battle? ERP? Action? Odiseas? Here is the testing field where you can practice as you like or share literary material of various kinds, if desired, other anons can give feedback by proposing scenarios or situations which you have to roleplay or describe in exchange for an opinion or critical look at your prose and interpretation.
Previous thread files
Literature club 1
https://web.archive.org/web/20220622142144/https://8chan.moe/hisrol/res/5425.html
Literature club 2
https://archive.ph/k0ow5
Literature club 3 https://archive.ph/KGUkM
Literature club 4
https://archive.ph/aXGVB
The last edition we had the MEGAODISEA HISROL for more events like that.
Previous thread files
Literature club 1
https://web.archive.org/web/20220622142144/https://8chan.moe/hisrol/res/5425.html
Literature club 2
https://archive.ph/k0ow5
Literature club 3 https://archive.ph/KGUkM
Literature club 4
https://archive.ph/aXGVB
The last edition we had the MEGAODISEA HISROL for more events like that.
The other day I saw how famous those "narrating stories" videos from DnD, also from 4chan, etc. were, and I started thinking that... Odysseys have already been made here, or the MEGAODYSSEY /Hisrol/ (>>121188).
And I asked myself... Why not turn it into Loquendo, edit it a little (background music, and some sound effects at most....) And upload it to the chon's channel???
I mean, reading it is very entertaining, each odyssey is different, and they don't shove 8,000,000 characters of a thread down your throat, but rather it's told in a narrated way.
I don't know if it's a bad idea, I would watch it, and I saw that it was relatively "in fashion".
And I asked myself... Why not turn it into Loquendo, edit it a little (background music, and some sound effects at most....) And upload it to the chon's channel???
I mean, reading it is very entertaining, each odyssey is different, and they don't shove 8,000,000 characters of a thread down your throat, but rather it's told in a narrated way.
I don't know if it's a bad idea, I would watch it, and I saw that it was relatively "in fashion".
>>4480 →
Why does it seem like OP hates class B?
Why does it seem like OP hates class B?
>>4490 →
What a great idea anon! When do you start editing the videos?
>uploaded to chon's channel
Is that nigger still alive?
What a great idea anon! When do you start editing the videos?
>uploaded to chon's channel
Is that nigger still alive?
The first Great Collapse. 7 years ago, in downtown New York City, a portal opened connecting to another world, the realm of the Beyond. After an intense flash, the city was plunged into darkness. In one night, New York was engulfed, destroyed, and rebuilt by the effects of the catastrophic connection to the other world.
From that other world emerged the beings of the Beyond, the "másallíneos," creatures mostly of indescribable origin and aberrant appearance. A massive number of them invaded the newly taken New York, many "másallíneos" transformed the city to their will, others obeyed their shapeless nature and generated violence, and finally, a large number survived the chaotic state that was the Jerusalem Plot.
The Jerusalem Plot was the name given to New York City, once the portal's fog was contained within a barrier. That limiter was born from the portal itself and contained the expansion of the other world onto Earth. It was in this environment that, day after day, newly conceived demons emerged from the contact between the worlds, a type of all-powerful and sentient existence that, after grouping together, became known as the Thirteen Kings. Thus, for two months, through the actions of the self-proclaimed rulers and the active protection of an enormous divine curse in the form of a maritime entity, the American government lost control over one of its most important cities.
Demigods, powerful beings born from the portal of the Beyond, pressured from the interior and exterior of the barrier to create an opening for dialogue in the Jerusalem Plot. Shortly after those two months of uncertainty surrounding all of New York, an official contact was made between the American Nation and the Abstract Realm of the Beyond, a conciliation. Under the Chrysler-Galadona treaty, the conflict with the forces of the incomprehensible was resolved, the sovereignty of the Thirteen Kings was dismissed, the shared state of New Jerusalem was created, and the foundations were laid for "másallíneo" and human coexistence. The barrier dissolved, forming a vortex of amalgamated fog, thus the name New Jerusalem was born.
The city of New Jerusalem originated as a combination of characteristics between the human world and the Beyond. Half of the humans engulfed by the portal reappeared miraculously in the new city, while the other half would appear periodically 3 years later. The beings of the Beyond assimilated the human way of life in the city as a rule to ensure their stay. In this way, a strange daily life emerged involving humans and monsters beyond comprehension. By integrating into the new nation, the "másallíneos" eventually gained citizenship rights and a moderately decent reputation.
Every day, and in cooperation with the new and abstract intelligent beings, the human world recovered from that great imbalance. Although within New Jerusalem, the forces of the chaotic and the absurd remained active, attacking the city in unexpected and desperate ways. Even so, entities from the human esoteric world such as the Spiritual League and other organizations managed to keep the madness of the other world at bay and provided stability to the fantastic and grotesque city for three years. This was until, after a succession of unfortunate events, such as an arcane threatening factor, an overload of effort on human hope, the release of various unknowable powers from the Beyond, and a thirst for demonic self-discovery, a massive and catastrophic second Great Collapse was gestated almost by pure chance.
The second Great Collapse. 4 years ago, south of Manhattan Island, on the artificial island Pandora, known as the base of the Asylum Pandorum prison, a portal to a new dimension opened. Distinct from the Beyond and the human world in its entirety, the dimension with which contact was made was of such an incompatible degree that, a millionth of a second after the connection to the other world was established, the portal closed, unleashing an energy charge so potent that it destabilized the mystical infrastructure of New Jerusalem.
Capable of foreseeing the future, the invisible curse at the edge of the city, a high-degree enigma from the Beyond, used the force of a divine contract to keep the imminent deformation at bay, but it was not enough. For 20 seconds, the city was enveloped in complete calm, until in an instant, all of New Jerusalem was divided in two. Each part of New Jerusalem immediately replicated, thus giving the vision of two parallel cities, seen as through the edge of a mirror. That scenario was witnessed for only a few seconds until the city underwent the same partitioning phenomenon again and again, at increasingly smaller intervals of time. Exponentially, fractal chaos took over the city, duplicating dimensions, dividing time, and brushing against the abstract limits of what is permissible in reality.
The emergency gave rise to a new type of barrier against the mystical fog, of infinite extent, total light absorption, and intangible. This and other feats by the Spiritual League and other organizations, such as rescuing the vast majority of living creatures in New Jerusalem, provided relief in recovering the city or preventing a greater tragedy that would this time fall upon the world. Even so, it was during this short period of infinite barriers that the city was considered lost. Fractional Nod, an abstract wasteland of wandering march that only concentrated disaster.
Miraculously, almost a month after the Second Collapse, the fundamental constants returned to their initial values and the city was rebuilt. This time giving rise to the Sacred Land of Nod, a double parallel city composed of Nod Thrillfair and Nod Issel-Sarexuglactrella. The new city encompasses duality and the indistinct within the identical. It is from this land that the world still feels the effects of chaos, for better or for worse, recovering millions of humans, or having to deal with infinite races from Others, other worlds, and time.
From that other world emerged the beings of the Beyond, the "másallíneos," creatures mostly of indescribable origin and aberrant appearance. A massive number of them invaded the newly taken New York, many "másallíneos" transformed the city to their will, others obeyed their shapeless nature and generated violence, and finally, a large number survived the chaotic state that was the Jerusalem Plot.
The Jerusalem Plot was the name given to New York City, once the portal's fog was contained within a barrier. That limiter was born from the portal itself and contained the expansion of the other world onto Earth. It was in this environment that, day after day, newly conceived demons emerged from the contact between the worlds, a type of all-powerful and sentient existence that, after grouping together, became known as the Thirteen Kings. Thus, for two months, through the actions of the self-proclaimed rulers and the active protection of an enormous divine curse in the form of a maritime entity, the American government lost control over one of its most important cities.
Demigods, powerful beings born from the portal of the Beyond, pressured from the interior and exterior of the barrier to create an opening for dialogue in the Jerusalem Plot. Shortly after those two months of uncertainty surrounding all of New York, an official contact was made between the American Nation and the Abstract Realm of the Beyond, a conciliation. Under the Chrysler-Galadona treaty, the conflict with the forces of the incomprehensible was resolved, the sovereignty of the Thirteen Kings was dismissed, the shared state of New Jerusalem was created, and the foundations were laid for "másallíneo" and human coexistence. The barrier dissolved, forming a vortex of amalgamated fog, thus the name New Jerusalem was born.
The city of New Jerusalem originated as a combination of characteristics between the human world and the Beyond. Half of the humans engulfed by the portal reappeared miraculously in the new city, while the other half would appear periodically 3 years later. The beings of the Beyond assimilated the human way of life in the city as a rule to ensure their stay. In this way, a strange daily life emerged involving humans and monsters beyond comprehension. By integrating into the new nation, the "másallíneos" eventually gained citizenship rights and a moderately decent reputation.
Every day, and in cooperation with the new and abstract intelligent beings, the human world recovered from that great imbalance. Although within New Jerusalem, the forces of the chaotic and the absurd remained active, attacking the city in unexpected and desperate ways. Even so, entities from the human esoteric world such as the Spiritual League and other organizations managed to keep the madness of the other world at bay and provided stability to the fantastic and grotesque city for three years. This was until, after a succession of unfortunate events, such as an arcane threatening factor, an overload of effort on human hope, the release of various unknowable powers from the Beyond, and a thirst for demonic self-discovery, a massive and catastrophic second Great Collapse was gestated almost by pure chance.
The second Great Collapse. 4 years ago, south of Manhattan Island, on the artificial island Pandora, known as the base of the Asylum Pandorum prison, a portal to a new dimension opened. Distinct from the Beyond and the human world in its entirety, the dimension with which contact was made was of such an incompatible degree that, a millionth of a second after the connection to the other world was established, the portal closed, unleashing an energy charge so potent that it destabilized the mystical infrastructure of New Jerusalem.
Capable of foreseeing the future, the invisible curse at the edge of the city, a high-degree enigma from the Beyond, used the force of a divine contract to keep the imminent deformation at bay, but it was not enough. For 20 seconds, the city was enveloped in complete calm, until in an instant, all of New Jerusalem was divided in two. Each part of New Jerusalem immediately replicated, thus giving the vision of two parallel cities, seen as through the edge of a mirror. That scenario was witnessed for only a few seconds until the city underwent the same partitioning phenomenon again and again, at increasingly smaller intervals of time. Exponentially, fractal chaos took over the city, duplicating dimensions, dividing time, and brushing against the abstract limits of what is permissible in reality.
The emergency gave rise to a new type of barrier against the mystical fog, of infinite extent, total light absorption, and intangible. This and other feats by the Spiritual League and other organizations, such as rescuing the vast majority of living creatures in New Jerusalem, provided relief in recovering the city or preventing a greater tragedy that would this time fall upon the world. Even so, it was during this short period of infinite barriers that the city was considered lost. Fractional Nod, an abstract wasteland of wandering march that only concentrated disaster.
Miraculously, almost a month after the Second Collapse, the fundamental constants returned to their initial values and the city was rebuilt. This time giving rise to the Sacred Land of Nod, a double parallel city composed of Nod Thrillfair and Nod Issel-Sarexuglactrella. The new city encompasses duality and the indistinct within the identical. It is from this land that the world still feels the effects of chaos, for better or for worse, recovering millions of humans, or having to deal with infinite races from Others, other worlds, and time.
>>1486 →
>Sally's lifeless arms couldn't properly adjust to the descent of her torso, because after piercing through them, Hannah had destroyed a significant portion of her supporting muscles. A metallic formation of blood immediately knocked Hannah to the ground. It was a shield hard enough to recklessly bend Hannah's superhuman body with a single, powerful impact. It was Mercy, who had finally reacted to Hannah's psychotic actions and swiftly subdued her. But no matter how reinforced her shield was or how hard she slammed Hannah into the ground, cracking the floor and walls instantly upon impact, her weapon would never be strong enough to block even remotely one of Hannah's cuts or her divine arsenal.
(Mercy) WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! WHY, HANNAH?! WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT?! HANNAH!!! Hannah...-! Oh God... Ah... Aa-ah... No way...
(Hannah) God... have mercy on me. Oh, Lord. Forgive me... Forgive me, Lord. I feel such despair right now... Mercy.
>Hannah Cade Andronicus murdered Sally on a Sunday during a scheduled visit, mere hours after the complete disappearance of Doxia and Bagdeleyne Von Batenkaitos in Nod. She made no attempt to rise, though she could have defeated Mercy instantly using her abilities; instead, Hannah collapsed to the floor, weeping and lamenting. She begged God over and over again, in a way that made you remember how she originally obtained her weapon through one of the many visions you accessed many hours ago. You didn't have to watch any longer as Mercy struggled to process what had just happened—because the moment Hannah surrendered herself to her God, you blinked once more, out of this repeatable scene.
(...)
(Jack) PAQUITO?! I can't believe it's you! And here, in Boston!
>You returned to the hours before Hannah arrived at the hospital, during the time she met with Jack in Boston. The hole wasn't growing larger with each visit, but it clearly seemed that its depth and the number of victims down there had only increased. Hannah and Jack's conversation must have ended; she was slightly distanced from him, yet still watching the strangely unforeseen arrival of an alien whom Jack immediately recognized as his best friend from the past. It wasn't just impossible that this wasn't the Paquito from his story—this being seemed outright fake, and everything around Jack felt highly unbelievable. Witnessing such nonsense, even as a third-party observer, right after experiencing such an intense vision as the murder of an innocent girl by Hannah, felt like a cruel joke. You could almost lose yourself, forget that you possess a body capable of traveling throughout Boston or even beyond it into Nod to uncover more about Hannah or the Vatican—but what brought you back to reality was the presence of a third person in this entire conversation. Excluding Paquito, there was a visitor you'd never seen before in any of these fragmented stories from Hannah's life, appearing precisely when she put on an immaculate, regal suit and began acting far more frivolously than usual. That vision of Hannah wasn't merely sharing space with the other Hannah; judging by how her cloak behaved, she could phase through the floor and possessed the same level of intangibility as you across the repetition of these situations. The first thing this Hannah did upon noticing your presence—once she convinced herself she needed to speak to you—was apologize for your own decision.
(Hannah*) I'm sorry, but all the energy in this universe isn't all the energy in the human world, nor is it all the energy in the Afterlife Realm, and certainly not even close to all the energy from the place you originally came from. Maybe, if you had absorbed all of it, you could've achieved something far more transcendent than me. But right now, the omnipotence you possess is exactly the same omnipotence I possess—one bound to the infinite iteration of this world.
>She precisely defines what you've been experiencing over the last 6 hours: a semi-random appearance of events, from which you can find little to no information to free yourself from this state of observation. Based on how Hannah describes herself, you can figure out a couple of things. She is just like you in this mode of witnessing the past—unable to interfere or make her voice heard anywhere except your ears. Likewise, she's so tied to Hannah that she remains close to her, allowing the succession of random events to continue. You can't harm her in any way—she passes through you and you through her whenever you try to interact more with the objects around you. However, trying to touch this well-dressed Hannah should be far less complicated than trying to touch Paquito or somehow hit Hayes. Unlike you, who can move at inhuman speeds and directions just by thinking, the divine Hannah projected near you does nothing but passively orbit the nun Hannah currently in the alien's situation.
(Jack) Boston, Boston! Sorry, I can't stop saying it. Paquito, you have no idea how long I've waited for your return! Ever since I was a kid... I knew one day we'd have our adventures again, just like in the old days.
(Paquito) Yeah, it's me, Jack. Now give me the access code to Gemini's bank funds. I'll make sure to run your agency with zero transparency, just like you always wanted.
(Jack) Absolutely. You know I'd do anything for a friend.
>Sally's lifeless arms couldn't properly adjust to the descent of her torso, because after piercing through them, Hannah had destroyed a significant portion of her supporting muscles. A metallic formation of blood immediately knocked Hannah to the ground. It was a shield hard enough to recklessly bend Hannah's superhuman body with a single, powerful impact. It was Mercy, who had finally reacted to Hannah's psychotic actions and swiftly subdued her. But no matter how reinforced her shield was or how hard she slammed Hannah into the ground, cracking the floor and walls instantly upon impact, her weapon would never be strong enough to block even remotely one of Hannah's cuts or her divine arsenal.
(Mercy) WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! WHY, HANNAH?! WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT?! HANNAH!!! Hannah...-! Oh God... Ah... Aa-ah... No way...
(Hannah) God... have mercy on me. Oh, Lord. Forgive me... Forgive me, Lord. I feel such despair right now... Mercy.
>Hannah Cade Andronicus murdered Sally on a Sunday during a scheduled visit, mere hours after the complete disappearance of Doxia and Bagdeleyne Von Batenkaitos in Nod. She made no attempt to rise, though she could have defeated Mercy instantly using her abilities; instead, Hannah collapsed to the floor, weeping and lamenting. She begged God over and over again, in a way that made you remember how she originally obtained her weapon through one of the many visions you accessed many hours ago. You didn't have to watch any longer as Mercy struggled to process what had just happened—because the moment Hannah surrendered herself to her God, you blinked once more, out of this repeatable scene.
(...)
(Jack) PAQUITO?! I can't believe it's you! And here, in Boston!
>You returned to the hours before Hannah arrived at the hospital, during the time she met with Jack in Boston. The hole wasn't growing larger with each visit, but it clearly seemed that its depth and the number of victims down there had only increased. Hannah and Jack's conversation must have ended; she was slightly distanced from him, yet still watching the strangely unforeseen arrival of an alien whom Jack immediately recognized as his best friend from the past. It wasn't just impossible that this wasn't the Paquito from his story—this being seemed outright fake, and everything around Jack felt highly unbelievable. Witnessing such nonsense, even as a third-party observer, right after experiencing such an intense vision as the murder of an innocent girl by Hannah, felt like a cruel joke. You could almost lose yourself, forget that you possess a body capable of traveling throughout Boston or even beyond it into Nod to uncover more about Hannah or the Vatican—but what brought you back to reality was the presence of a third person in this entire conversation. Excluding Paquito, there was a visitor you'd never seen before in any of these fragmented stories from Hannah's life, appearing precisely when she put on an immaculate, regal suit and began acting far more frivolously than usual. That vision of Hannah wasn't merely sharing space with the other Hannah; judging by how her cloak behaved, she could phase through the floor and possessed the same level of intangibility as you across the repetition of these situations. The first thing this Hannah did upon noticing your presence—once she convinced herself she needed to speak to you—was apologize for your own decision.
(Hannah*) I'm sorry, but all the energy in this universe isn't all the energy in the human world, nor is it all the energy in the Afterlife Realm, and certainly not even close to all the energy from the place you originally came from. Maybe, if you had absorbed all of it, you could've achieved something far more transcendent than me. But right now, the omnipotence you possess is exactly the same omnipotence I possess—one bound to the infinite iteration of this world.
>She precisely defines what you've been experiencing over the last 6 hours: a semi-random appearance of events, from which you can find little to no information to free yourself from this state of observation. Based on how Hannah describes herself, you can figure out a couple of things. She is just like you in this mode of witnessing the past—unable to interfere or make her voice heard anywhere except your ears. Likewise, she's so tied to Hannah that she remains close to her, allowing the succession of random events to continue. You can't harm her in any way—she passes through you and you through her whenever you try to interact more with the objects around you. However, trying to touch this well-dressed Hannah should be far less complicated than trying to touch Paquito or somehow hit Hayes. Unlike you, who can move at inhuman speeds and directions just by thinking, the divine Hannah projected near you does nothing but passively orbit the nun Hannah currently in the alien's situation.
(Jack) Boston, Boston! Sorry, I can't stop saying it. Paquito, you have no idea how long I've waited for your return! Ever since I was a kid... I knew one day we'd have our adventures again, just like in the old days.
(Paquito) Yeah, it's me, Jack. Now give me the access code to Gemini's bank funds. I'll make sure to run your agency with zero transparency, just like you always wanted.
(Jack) Absolutely. You know I'd do anything for a friend.
>>1487 →
>The atmosphere changed instantly. This time you could forget about the nonsense the boss of Gemini might or might not say, because once again you found yourself watching Hannah, who had the mission of climbing yet another small mountain. Your view of this excerpt from the story was the primary way of perceiving—nothing more than a pair of motionless eyes following Hannah everywhere. Only due to the peripheral presence of a second entity in this place did you begin to materialize part of your body into this observational plane. And not just your body: as soon as you recognized the presence of the Hannah wielding the sword and bearing the aspect of royalty, you too began generating a layer, a crown, and attire suited to your manner of ruling the newly explored infinite. The divine-appearing Hannah explains in detail the situation binding both of you. She recounts everything about the role that this supremely powerful entity plays in this plane of futile intervention upon the world.
(Hannah*) I observe everything—the past, present, and future of a specific creature—throughout eternity, from every possible perspective, even if I must occupy Planck-length differences across this vast, expansive universe. Hannah’s prayers, for instance, serve as shortcuts, allowing me to revisit a moment. You’ve been using them repeatedly. But don’t get used to them, because when Hannah’s life ends, you’ll have to eternally witness the life of Doxiagropobilicus, then the life of LeSueur, every inhabitant of Nod, every inhabitant of Boston, of Earth, and every living being that existed in the past, exists in the present, and will exist in the future.
>Not exactly uplifting news. You’ve had more than enough of Hannah for a very long time now, having explored her fighting, living, and interacting with others extensively. What the Hannah before you explains summarizes certain specific flickers—like the multiple appearances you experienced when she held the lamb, or the silent ones she made while walking through the hospital corridor, determined in her next course of action. Aside from moments when Hannah prayed to God, you likely had to shift to instances too mundane to matter during observation. From the moment she was born until her death, someone else confirming that you’ll remain here for eternity, shifting positions to witness the same things—every time Hannah took a shit or masturbated—is neither news nor a task anyone would willingly accept as an omnipresent God. Following the explanation of Trinitarian Hannah, the Hannah both of you are observing finally reaches her destination hours after twilight. At the lonely peak of a mountain once used to protect livestock and serve as a prayer site, a black sword is embedded in the earth, ready for Hannah to claim it immediately. Trinitarian Hannah reveals one more aspect—perhaps the most important since she indirectly pronounced your sentence—a hidden ability to interfere in events. Minutes pass between Hannah finding the weapon and being attacked by her own mind, forcing her to repeatedly beg for forgiveness.
(Hannah*) You will be like them and think like them, because every part makes up God. The same God who can do anything, because, every billions of iterations a statistical error appears that I can only define as a miracle. Move an electron, disintegrate a particle, vary the speed of an object by 0.000001% and even…
(Hannah) Oh, lord. Forgive me. Forgive me. Lord, forgive me. I will do terrible things in your name… I can't. I can't!
(Hannah*) This is the infinite power you sought. It works infinitely to strike any fool with lightning, moves atom by atom to part a sea in your name, or assembles your perfect offspring in some mother's womb. It is entirely up to you, as long as you can bear it, unlike everyone else…
>The Hannah in appearance approached her kneeling self on the ground before her divine weapon. No matter how much time passed from when she got her weapon until she fought with you, her crying and lamentations are heard the same both upon obtaining her ultimate weapon, and after eliminating Sally and repenting in mortification. It was after Hannah explained to you the application of miracles on this plane that she also knelt down to the level of her other self and showing an expression more distinct than the inexpressiveness that characterizes her, Hannah brought one of her fingers to wipe away the tears of her younger counterpart herself. She held the drop of water for a second in her hands, so that to an instant viewer it must have looked like a bit of dew remaining levitating from Hannah's actions, until finally Trinitarian Hannah closed her fingers and simply disintegrated the small concentration of water forever. In the way she explained it, miracles like those in Abrahamic myths, as well as the most recent ones achieved by Hannah, must be an application of infinite steps one after another measured over hundreds and millions of people to coincide in the probabilistic error of an action. It is absurd, typical of an absurd power that has no limits but mental resilience itself. As a being of infinite life you could be compatible with the nature of this place, occupying everything, at all times, without realizing the changes only after visiting other eternities and changing your mind based on the experiences of others.
>The atmosphere changed instantly. This time you could forget about the nonsense the boss of Gemini might or might not say, because once again you found yourself watching Hannah, who had the mission of climbing yet another small mountain. Your view of this excerpt from the story was the primary way of perceiving—nothing more than a pair of motionless eyes following Hannah everywhere. Only due to the peripheral presence of a second entity in this place did you begin to materialize part of your body into this observational plane. And not just your body: as soon as you recognized the presence of the Hannah wielding the sword and bearing the aspect of royalty, you too began generating a layer, a crown, and attire suited to your manner of ruling the newly explored infinite. The divine-appearing Hannah explains in detail the situation binding both of you. She recounts everything about the role that this supremely powerful entity plays in this plane of futile intervention upon the world.
(Hannah*) I observe everything—the past, present, and future of a specific creature—throughout eternity, from every possible perspective, even if I must occupy Planck-length differences across this vast, expansive universe. Hannah’s prayers, for instance, serve as shortcuts, allowing me to revisit a moment. You’ve been using them repeatedly. But don’t get used to them, because when Hannah’s life ends, you’ll have to eternally witness the life of Doxiagropobilicus, then the life of LeSueur, every inhabitant of Nod, every inhabitant of Boston, of Earth, and every living being that existed in the past, exists in the present, and will exist in the future.
>Not exactly uplifting news. You’ve had more than enough of Hannah for a very long time now, having explored her fighting, living, and interacting with others extensively. What the Hannah before you explains summarizes certain specific flickers—like the multiple appearances you experienced when she held the lamb, or the silent ones she made while walking through the hospital corridor, determined in her next course of action. Aside from moments when Hannah prayed to God, you likely had to shift to instances too mundane to matter during observation. From the moment she was born until her death, someone else confirming that you’ll remain here for eternity, shifting positions to witness the same things—every time Hannah took a shit or masturbated—is neither news nor a task anyone would willingly accept as an omnipresent God. Following the explanation of Trinitarian Hannah, the Hannah both of you are observing finally reaches her destination hours after twilight. At the lonely peak of a mountain once used to protect livestock and serve as a prayer site, a black sword is embedded in the earth, ready for Hannah to claim it immediately. Trinitarian Hannah reveals one more aspect—perhaps the most important since she indirectly pronounced your sentence—a hidden ability to interfere in events. Minutes pass between Hannah finding the weapon and being attacked by her own mind, forcing her to repeatedly beg for forgiveness.
(Hannah*) You will be like them and think like them, because every part makes up God. The same God who can do anything, because, every billions of iterations a statistical error appears that I can only define as a miracle. Move an electron, disintegrate a particle, vary the speed of an object by 0.000001% and even…
(Hannah) Oh, lord. Forgive me. Forgive me. Lord, forgive me. I will do terrible things in your name… I can't. I can't!
(Hannah*) This is the infinite power you sought. It works infinitely to strike any fool with lightning, moves atom by atom to part a sea in your name, or assembles your perfect offspring in some mother's womb. It is entirely up to you, as long as you can bear it, unlike everyone else…
>The Hannah in appearance approached her kneeling self on the ground before her divine weapon. No matter how much time passed from when she got her weapon until she fought with you, her crying and lamentations are heard the same both upon obtaining her ultimate weapon, and after eliminating Sally and repenting in mortification. It was after Hannah explained to you the application of miracles on this plane that she also knelt down to the level of her other self and showing an expression more distinct than the inexpressiveness that characterizes her, Hannah brought one of her fingers to wipe away the tears of her younger counterpart herself. She held the drop of water for a second in her hands, so that to an instant viewer it must have looked like a bit of dew remaining levitating from Hannah's actions, until finally Trinitarian Hannah closed her fingers and simply disintegrated the small concentration of water forever. In the way she explained it, miracles like those in Abrahamic myths, as well as the most recent ones achieved by Hannah, must be an application of infinite steps one after another measured over hundreds and millions of people to coincide in the probabilistic error of an action. It is absurd, typical of an absurd power that has no limits but mental resilience itself. As a being of infinite life you could be compatible with the nature of this place, occupying everything, at all times, without realizing the changes only after visiting other eternities and changing your mind based on the experiences of others.
>>1488 →
>But no matter how the Trinity Hannah makes it seem, orchestrating a miracle for you is just as likely as expecting Batenkaitos to seek mental help or Bagoriceny to stop killing innocent animals based on their appearance—simply impossible. She makes sure to emphasize this once again, stressing the overwhelming boredom you started to feel after watching Hannah do a lot of nothing for a long time.
(Hannah*) But you won't be able to do it. You won't be able to do anything. I've spent millions, and millions, and millions of eternities witnessing other lives. You need an iron will to achieve something like that—an divine will. (...) Listen, right now I'm a Hannah with 824 years of memories. Why? That sword doesn't just cut the past or future by chasing your target's projection across ridiculously distant positions—it also affects the memories of its wielder the moment you start swinging it. I can project an innocent Hannah whenever I want, just as easily as I can project a Hannah who's lived decillions of years mechanically performing her duties. She only needs to hold the sword in her hands, and I—I—and I, I and only I will take care of the rest.
>It was the Trinity Hannah herself who chose to reveal her true nature, after they'd jumped for the sixteenth time into the moment when Olivia calls out to Hannah, only for Hannah to completely ignore her. The real-looking Hannah continues explaining about the sword that suddenly appeared in Hannah's hands, pointing at it, assigning it properties equally absurd yet effectively applicable in reality. Finally, you're shown the mechanism behind Hannah's instability in combat, the reason why in none of her memories or experiences did she ever firmly grip the sword, but instead let it float mere centimeters or millimeters away from her hand. The Hannah standing before you decides when to switch places within the mind of the Hannah facing Olivia, and precisely when it's best to do so in order not to excessively alter the future or past based on her memories. After all, she is the sword's bearer—only she can fully touch it and use its power to cut memories. As for you, you've never had the chance to snatch the weapon away and deprive her of her powers or the decisions she made ahead of time. She approached you, close enough that you could feel her cloak brush against your clothes, turning invulnerability and intangibility back into nothing. And when she did, she displayed an attitude different from her usual impassiveness—whether in reality or in the observational plane.
(Hannah*) Sacrificing my mind eternally, erasing my memories one by one, whenever fate decides. If it means ensuring a demon like you never involves itself with a human again, it's a price worth paying. Sally's death was inevitable.
>She acts with arrogance when she has to reveal the full extent of her plan—one she has followed both in the past and in the future, systematically replacing herself to achieve her confrontation with you. The Hannah standing before you is precisely why, no matter what, Sally was certain she would die, regardless of whether she had ever known Hannah until the moment it happened. Again, they return from the Vatican to the interior of the hospital, taking a position outside the room where events unfold, yet still able to hear Sally's and Mercy's voices behind the door arguing over the wound you caused. The impeccably dressed Hannah who confronted you paces back and forth as she prepares to enter the room once more, precisely at the moment events unfold, only to point at the sword that will flawlessly emerge from Sally's body in an instant. She gives you the answer to the failed contract you attempted long ago—because she is their God in this human world, not the entire world, and she is herself both in the past and in the future, if you can align with the moment her memories are rewritten. Apparently, this Hannah, before her counterpart murdered Sally, tries to warn you about whether or not you can use the shortcut of prayers integrated into this observation plane's deep and indecipherable matrix. Finishing her gesture toward the sword, Hannah Trinitaria attempts to vanish, becoming increasingly transparent,
(Sally) (...) But, I trust that everything will be alright.
(Hannah) Keep that attitude until the end.
(Hannah*) I know your exit from this place is predetermined. I created this sword. I am the connection between God, my sword, and myself. But you cannot break me—because after this, Hannah Cade Andronicus will never again direct a prayer to God.
>But no matter how the Trinity Hannah makes it seem, orchestrating a miracle for you is just as likely as expecting Batenkaitos to seek mental help or Bagoriceny to stop killing innocent animals based on their appearance—simply impossible. She makes sure to emphasize this once again, stressing the overwhelming boredom you started to feel after watching Hannah do a lot of nothing for a long time.
(Hannah*) But you won't be able to do it. You won't be able to do anything. I've spent millions, and millions, and millions of eternities witnessing other lives. You need an iron will to achieve something like that—an divine will. (...) Listen, right now I'm a Hannah with 824 years of memories. Why? That sword doesn't just cut the past or future by chasing your target's projection across ridiculously distant positions—it also affects the memories of its wielder the moment you start swinging it. I can project an innocent Hannah whenever I want, just as easily as I can project a Hannah who's lived decillions of years mechanically performing her duties. She only needs to hold the sword in her hands, and I—I—and I, I and only I will take care of the rest.
>It was the Trinity Hannah herself who chose to reveal her true nature, after they'd jumped for the sixteenth time into the moment when Olivia calls out to Hannah, only for Hannah to completely ignore her. The real-looking Hannah continues explaining about the sword that suddenly appeared in Hannah's hands, pointing at it, assigning it properties equally absurd yet effectively applicable in reality. Finally, you're shown the mechanism behind Hannah's instability in combat, the reason why in none of her memories or experiences did she ever firmly grip the sword, but instead let it float mere centimeters or millimeters away from her hand. The Hannah standing before you decides when to switch places within the mind of the Hannah facing Olivia, and precisely when it's best to do so in order not to excessively alter the future or past based on her memories. After all, she is the sword's bearer—only she can fully touch it and use its power to cut memories. As for you, you've never had the chance to snatch the weapon away and deprive her of her powers or the decisions she made ahead of time. She approached you, close enough that you could feel her cloak brush against your clothes, turning invulnerability and intangibility back into nothing. And when she did, she displayed an attitude different from her usual impassiveness—whether in reality or in the observational plane.
(Hannah*) Sacrificing my mind eternally, erasing my memories one by one, whenever fate decides. If it means ensuring a demon like you never involves itself with a human again, it's a price worth paying. Sally's death was inevitable.
>She acts with arrogance when she has to reveal the full extent of her plan—one she has followed both in the past and in the future, systematically replacing herself to achieve her confrontation with you. The Hannah standing before you is precisely why, no matter what, Sally was certain she would die, regardless of whether she had ever known Hannah until the moment it happened. Again, they return from the Vatican to the interior of the hospital, taking a position outside the room where events unfold, yet still able to hear Sally's and Mercy's voices behind the door arguing over the wound you caused. The impeccably dressed Hannah who confronted you paces back and forth as she prepares to enter the room once more, precisely at the moment events unfold, only to point at the sword that will flawlessly emerge from Sally's body in an instant. She gives you the answer to the failed contract you attempted long ago—because she is their God in this human world, not the entire world, and she is herself both in the past and in the future, if you can align with the moment her memories are rewritten. Apparently, this Hannah, before her counterpart murdered Sally, tries to warn you about whether or not you can use the shortcut of prayers integrated into this observation plane's deep and indecipherable matrix. Finishing her gesture toward the sword, Hannah Trinitaria attempts to vanish, becoming increasingly transparent,
(Sally) (...) But, I trust that everything will be alright.
(Hannah) Keep that attitude until the end.
(Hannah*) I know your exit from this place is predetermined. I created this sword. I am the connection between God, my sword, and myself. But you cannot break me—because after this, Hannah Cade Andronicus will never again direct a prayer to God.
Eje is the name that normality gives to the plane that inhabits. The records describe an environment of active settlements and functional infrastructure built upon the remains of an ancient Earth. The terrain and history manifest as an immense superposition of strata where each neo-Victorian or medieval structure integrates over the preexisting ones, forming a landscape populated by dungeons, territorial dragons and fantastic fauna.
The geography operates under the concept of Closed Horizon, a perpetual cycle where advancing always to the east successively takes you from the domain of normality toward the minimal territories, then to the massive ones, and finally back to the point of origin. This linear configuration has eliminated the concept of the west; moving in that direction means accessing directly the region called Double East. Trade routes and expeditionary paths cross these territorial bands crossing the boundaries of each physical scale.
The Hex is the constitutive fiber and the energetic fabric that sustains society, law and transportation. Although its technical principles are imprecise, there are 355 fundamental spells that allow will to impose itself over matter immediately. The urban infrastructure uses this energy to maintain operational the industrial mechanisms, the long-range communication systems and the basic services of the population centers.
The presence of the normals is limited by the Saturation Gradient, a natural phenomenon where the excess of Hex to the east disintegrates the organism and its absence to the double east causes cognitive paralysis. Under this restriction operates the Queen, the only authentic and eternal human who exercises administrative and symbolic command of the plane. Her incomplete memories about the origin world define the legal and religious frameworks that govern the eighty-eight million inhabitants.
At the extreme scales of the cycle coexist the Massive and the Diminutive. To the east, the ten thousand realms of the Diminutive sustain a ritualized war that releases hostile invocations toward the central settlements. Toward the double east, the Massive traverse the world as tectonic forces ignoring the minor civilizations. The geopolitical order depends on individuals loyal to the crown who, through maximum class spells, manage these forces to feed the technical network of normality.
Outside the urban nuclei, the periphery hosts communities of Non-Normals, such as anthropomorphic bananas, human-featured dinosaurs and talking animals. These societies, which include the rigid simian nations and the mimetic reptilian ones, operate autonomously with their own laws and social structures. The settlements in these areas integrate into the functional landscape sharing the space with the fantastic fauna and the active phenomena of the Hex.
Sheet
>Name
>Appearance
>About you
You have 40 points to distribute between:
Physical Affinity:
Energetic Affinity:
Spiritual Affinity:
Command Affinity:
Psychic Affinity:
Dark Affinity:
You have 2000 Hex points to learn spells (Meta)
The geography operates under the concept of Closed Horizon, a perpetual cycle where advancing always to the east successively takes you from the domain of normality toward the minimal territories, then to the massive ones, and finally back to the point of origin. This linear configuration has eliminated the concept of the west; moving in that direction means accessing directly the region called Double East. Trade routes and expeditionary paths cross these territorial bands crossing the boundaries of each physical scale.
The Hex is the constitutive fiber and the energetic fabric that sustains society, law and transportation. Although its technical principles are imprecise, there are 355 fundamental spells that allow will to impose itself over matter immediately. The urban infrastructure uses this energy to maintain operational the industrial mechanisms, the long-range communication systems and the basic services of the population centers.
The presence of the normals is limited by the Saturation Gradient, a natural phenomenon where the excess of Hex to the east disintegrates the organism and its absence to the double east causes cognitive paralysis. Under this restriction operates the Queen, the only authentic and eternal human who exercises administrative and symbolic command of the plane. Her incomplete memories about the origin world define the legal and religious frameworks that govern the eighty-eight million inhabitants.
At the extreme scales of the cycle coexist the Massive and the Diminutive. To the east, the ten thousand realms of the Diminutive sustain a ritualized war that releases hostile invocations toward the central settlements. Toward the double east, the Massive traverse the world as tectonic forces ignoring the minor civilizations. The geopolitical order depends on individuals loyal to the crown who, through maximum class spells, manage these forces to feed the technical network of normality.
Outside the urban nuclei, the periphery hosts communities of Non-Normals, such as anthropomorphic bananas, human-featured dinosaurs and talking animals. These societies, which include the rigid simian nations and the mimetic reptilian ones, operate autonomously with their own laws and social structures. The settlements in these areas integrate into the functional landscape sharing the space with the fantastic fauna and the active phenomena of the Hex.
Sheet
>Name
>Appearance
>About you
You have 40 points to distribute between:
Physical Affinity:
Energetic Affinity:
Spiritual Affinity:
Command Affinity:
Psychic Affinity:
Dark Affinity:
You have 2000 Hex points to learn spells (Meta)
>>3357 →
>Seeing Monica laugh in that clumsy way and then declare herself human with all those strange immunities leaves me in a second of silence.
— (Inflammable but harmless? Immune to magic and also to people of color? This is very strange, her behavior is too innocent… or too artificial. Is she really what she says she is?)
— I understand… Monica. You don't seem like a threat. Just… be more careful next time with the kitchen
>I respond with a calm voice, trying to sound reassuring.
>Suddenly the cookies turn into that fire monster and it starts to laugh and threaten. I instinctively take a step back and raise my weapon pointing at the entity.
— (What...? This has gone from strange to dangerous) Watch out!
>I shout more to alert the others than for anything else.
>When I hear Grok's voice from outside warning about the trees falling I feel a chill. I turn my head for a moment towards the entrance.
— (Now something is coming from the forest? A beast? We can't split up like this… but we can't ignore this either) Grok! Keep your position outside! There's a fire monster inside here!
>I look again at Monica and then at the fire monster, tightening my grip on my weapon.
— Sir Eshrec, take Pipino out of here if necessary. Monica… if you're Inflammable, maybe you can step back. I'll take care of this
>I take a step forward, trying to keep my voice firm despite the nerves.
— You! Lord of Fire… Are you really going to attack over burned cookies? If you want revenge, at least explain yourself before launching flames everywhere.
>I prepare to attack or dodge, feeling my heart pounding fast but trying to keep my mind as clear as possible.
— (This doesn't look good… between the monster inside and whatever is coming from the forest… we're going to have to act quickly)
>I try to focus and use the luminiscence spell to get more information on what's approaching. I also use the freeze spell to test the fire monster first before attacking head-on.
Luminiscence: 1d100 = 93
Congelar: 1d100 = 90
>Seeing Monica laugh in that clumsy way and then declare herself human with all those strange immunities leaves me in a second of silence.
— (Inflammable but harmless? Immune to magic and also to people of color? This is very strange, her behavior is too innocent… or too artificial. Is she really what she says she is?)
— I understand… Monica. You don't seem like a threat. Just… be more careful next time with the kitchen
>I respond with a calm voice, trying to sound reassuring.
>Suddenly the cookies turn into that fire monster and it starts to laugh and threaten. I instinctively take a step back and raise my weapon pointing at the entity.
— (What...? This has gone from strange to dangerous) Watch out!
>I shout more to alert the others than for anything else.
>When I hear Grok's voice from outside warning about the trees falling I feel a chill. I turn my head for a moment towards the entrance.
— (Now something is coming from the forest? A beast? We can't split up like this… but we can't ignore this either) Grok! Keep your position outside! There's a fire monster inside here!
>I look again at Monica and then at the fire monster, tightening my grip on my weapon.
— Sir Eshrec, take Pipino out of here if necessary. Monica… if you're Inflammable, maybe you can step back. I'll take care of this
>I take a step forward, trying to keep my voice firm despite the nerves.
— You! Lord of Fire… Are you really going to attack over burned cookies? If you want revenge, at least explain yourself before launching flames everywhere.
>I prepare to attack or dodge, feeling my heart pounding fast but trying to keep my mind as clear as possible.
— (This doesn't look good… between the monster inside and whatever is coming from the forest… we're going to have to act quickly)
>I try to focus and use the luminiscence spell to get more information on what's approaching. I also use the freeze spell to test the fire monster first before attacking head-on.
Luminiscence: 1d100 = 93
Congelar: 1d100 = 90
>>3359 →
You saw water dripping from María's forehead, and if you looked closely, her face had a tomato-like complexion. She didn't confirm it, but didn't deny either that one of her possible intentions was to keep an eye on her teacher, and your curiosity about the proportions of her flesh masses was merely the final blow that made the poor girl look away for a moment. She fixed her eyes on the wall to one side, then shifted her gaze to a bookshelf on the other, back and forth, until she brought her doll close to her ear and suddenly lowered her face. Now Punpun was in front of you, shaking his head, then bowing it so you'd pet him—but it only lasted a few seconds. Once the girl recovered, she had no awareness of what had just happened, dismissed it, and kept explaining.
(...)
After revealing your logic, you've noticed several things: María's shining eyes and radiant smile didn't fade even when you emphasized how terrible her teacher was at preserving clues. She didn't react at all when you lifted her, merely pointing her index finger to the left—the direction you should follow to reach Belladanza.
Your singing echoed throughout Céfiro. Who cares if you risk slipping on puddles or catching a cold from the harsh rain? It's worth it! Your goal of registering the largest breasts in the kingdom is an achievement you must savor before anyone else. Not even María's almost negligible weight could slow you down—you're very strong... or perhaps the girl is just extremely light. The good thing is, there's nobody on the streets. Most likely, passersby have returned home or are sheltered under the roofs of nearby shops, so you can rest assured you won't bump into anyone.
After nearly a minute, María finally shows a gesture—by which I mean she merely blinked—one that, had it happened earlier, wouldn't have left the girl teary-eyed now.
(María) That reminds me of those ancient, fascinating stories based on a world before the Axis! We used to read them in...! Punpun?
(Punpun) ...
(María) Whaaat?! Don't be like that, Punpun! (...) Don't listen to him, Eärendyl—I suspect those same policemen too! One of them called me crazy when I offered to help with the case. Wait, didn't I say something else?
Ignoring the crazy lady who was slow to respond, you could see in the distance an abnormal giant blocking the path—there was no other way to go. A bit closer to you was a car, one with flashing red and blue lights on top that might've been about to Eärendyl you, but luckily, it was motionless.
? | Anchor SUCCESS
Your legs were rebelling against you, refusing to obey, not to mention your arms, fingers, neck... you could barely breathe or keep holding the girl, though the latter was starting to hurt from staying in the same position.
(María) W-We didn't steal anything!
(?) You committed a crime... and it was stealing my heart~!
Dark hair, golden eyes, and a uniform dominated by sea-colored tones. She had gotten out of the car way too cheerful, her gaze locked onto the girl. Bouncing closer and closer with little jumps, her final leap came with arms wide open toward María, who was now at the mercy of the police—they'd taken her from you, at least Punpun didn't fall off your shoulder.
To the woman, it was as if you didn't exist. You could see the crazy lady being used like a stuffed teddy bear.
(María) Let go of me!
(?) I saw you helping Professor Risa in several cases! In the newspapers you look so serious... but up close you're so sweet~!
(María) Waaah!
Someone else got out of the car—a young man wearing almost the same outfit, brown eyes, and hair just as dark as the woman's, though for some reason longer than hers. He pulled the officer—and María—back toward the car.
(?) Aww... Marco, don't be like that.
(Marco) You nearly got sued last time because of this, boss. Let her go, poor thing, she's all soaked.
(María) I'm not some poor thing! I'm María José VII!
(Marco) Huh... who?
(María) Ma-rí-a Jo-Sé Sép-ti-ma!
(Chief) She's Risa's student, I've missed her so much! Haven't seen her in the news for weeks... Oh, did you get sick?
(María) They won't let me do anything!
(Marco) Ah right, the kid who stands out at that academy.
(María) Not a kid! De-tec-ti-ve! Even Punpun knows that!
(Chief and Marco) Punpun?
You had faded into the background, alone, standing in the rain instead of inside the warm car. At least you weren't completely ignored—the giant was the only one who hadn't stopped staring at you since the woman started causing a scene. He didn't seem able to speak, nor showed any sign of moving. Meanwhile, you were finally free.
(Marco) Hey! You! Are you friends with this little girl!? Come here!
And at last, someone normal noticed you.
You saw water dripping from María's forehead, and if you looked closely, her face had a tomato-like complexion. She didn't confirm it, but didn't deny either that one of her possible intentions was to keep an eye on her teacher, and your curiosity about the proportions of her flesh masses was merely the final blow that made the poor girl look away for a moment. She fixed her eyes on the wall to one side, then shifted her gaze to a bookshelf on the other, back and forth, until she brought her doll close to her ear and suddenly lowered her face. Now Punpun was in front of you, shaking his head, then bowing it so you'd pet him—but it only lasted a few seconds. Once the girl recovered, she had no awareness of what had just happened, dismissed it, and kept explaining.
(...)
After revealing your logic, you've noticed several things: María's shining eyes and radiant smile didn't fade even when you emphasized how terrible her teacher was at preserving clues. She didn't react at all when you lifted her, merely pointing her index finger to the left—the direction you should follow to reach Belladanza.
Your singing echoed throughout Céfiro. Who cares if you risk slipping on puddles or catching a cold from the harsh rain? It's worth it! Your goal of registering the largest breasts in the kingdom is an achievement you must savor before anyone else. Not even María's almost negligible weight could slow you down—you're very strong... or perhaps the girl is just extremely light. The good thing is, there's nobody on the streets. Most likely, passersby have returned home or are sheltered under the roofs of nearby shops, so you can rest assured you won't bump into anyone.
After nearly a minute, María finally shows a gesture—by which I mean she merely blinked—one that, had it happened earlier, wouldn't have left the girl teary-eyed now.
(María) That reminds me of those ancient, fascinating stories based on a world before the Axis! We used to read them in...! Punpun?
(Punpun) ...
(María) Whaaat?! Don't be like that, Punpun! (...) Don't listen to him, Eärendyl—I suspect those same policemen too! One of them called me crazy when I offered to help with the case. Wait, didn't I say something else?
Ignoring the crazy lady who was slow to respond, you could see in the distance an abnormal giant blocking the path—there was no other way to go. A bit closer to you was a car, one with flashing red and blue lights on top that might've been about to Eärendyl you, but luckily, it was motionless.
? | Anchor SUCCESS
Your legs were rebelling against you, refusing to obey, not to mention your arms, fingers, neck... you could barely breathe or keep holding the girl, though the latter was starting to hurt from staying in the same position.
(María) W-We didn't steal anything!
(?) You committed a crime... and it was stealing my heart~!
Dark hair, golden eyes, and a uniform dominated by sea-colored tones. She had gotten out of the car way too cheerful, her gaze locked onto the girl. Bouncing closer and closer with little jumps, her final leap came with arms wide open toward María, who was now at the mercy of the police—they'd taken her from you, at least Punpun didn't fall off your shoulder.
To the woman, it was as if you didn't exist. You could see the crazy lady being used like a stuffed teddy bear.
(María) Let go of me!
(?) I saw you helping Professor Risa in several cases! In the newspapers you look so serious... but up close you're so sweet~!
(María) Waaah!
Someone else got out of the car—a young man wearing almost the same outfit, brown eyes, and hair just as dark as the woman's, though for some reason longer than hers. He pulled the officer—and María—back toward the car.
(?) Aww... Marco, don't be like that.
(Marco) You nearly got sued last time because of this, boss. Let her go, poor thing, she's all soaked.
(María) I'm not some poor thing! I'm María José VII!
(Marco) Huh... who?
(María) Ma-rí-a Jo-Sé Sép-ti-ma!
(Chief) She's Risa's student, I've missed her so much! Haven't seen her in the news for weeks... Oh, did you get sick?
(María) They won't let me do anything!
(Marco) Ah right, the kid who stands out at that academy.
(María) Not a kid! De-tec-ti-ve! Even Punpun knows that!
(Chief and Marco) Punpun?
You had faded into the background, alone, standing in the rain instead of inside the warm car. At least you weren't completely ignored—the giant was the only one who hadn't stopped staring at you since the woman started causing a scene. He didn't seem able to speak, nor showed any sign of moving. Meanwhile, you were finally free.
(Marco) Hey! You! Are you friends with this little girl!? Come here!
And at last, someone normal noticed you.
>>3350 →
>>3354 →
(((Man Without A Name)))
>We weren't especially nutritious, it was just a sport. What good times.
The world is for the strong and the weak must obey, like the wind and the grass, when the wind blows the wind bends before it
>I briefly explain his view of the world, obviously he considers himself a "strong man" because he is free, he does what he wants, sleeps with whom he wants and doesn't answer to anyone, he is, in the end, a truly free man but a slave to his own impulses and human instincts
>He couldn't continue explaining his viewpoint because the poncho fell off his body leaving him in just underwear... what humiliation, now everyone knows that the proud, self-confident strong cowboy is just meat, although little or nothing may matter to him that people see his prominent bulge between his legs; it's not that he's exhibitionist but simply that he doesn't care how people see him, even he might see it as an opportunity, maybe a pretty monkey could like his corpulent, hairy and smelly body with cigar and powder
>And I who only wanted to make some friends with whom to share my secrets about the magic of other worlds.
Hey boy, wait a moment, it was just a joke a while ago, come please
>Blondie bent down to pick up his poncho and hat from the ground, put on the poncho while Option approached him and rolled in the dirty, dusty fabric, took off the dangling cigarette from his lip and handed it to the dark glasses guy in his hand
throw that away please, you can go now
>https://youtu.be/c8NqYibMeow?si=Up_bbhqD2gulTOm3&t=124
▶
>They are led to a beautiful, huge and precious dining room, the music of that place could only be compared to the one you've already heard in the movies that play in the bars, those movies that mock the pomp and excesses of the elite that takes advantage of the humble and honest workers that Rubio constantly cheats, he couldn't care less, thief is a thief
>He also couldn't care about the gourmet food, yes, he saw how Rose ate the food properly and could follow her steps but again he didn't care how people saw him. While that fat slut was talking he took out a cigar from his poncho, yes, one of those handsome and delicious ones exported from Cuba that he kept for special occasions, he brought it to his lips and called fire with the tip of his finger and lit it, exhaled a cloud of smoke directly to the ceiling. He also didn't stop at smoking in that beautiful place, he grabbed a spoon and with that same one he ate loudly and spoonful by spoonful the slices of banana
>Don't forget to respond to the survey that has been left at each table.
>He looked at the survey, the one about the government system seemed strange to him, usually he would say that a capitalist anarchic free market but for strange that it may seem it wasn't there, so he went to the option that seemed most appropriate to him: the one of the law of the strongest
>Although something that he didn't like was the wanwanwanesa trying to mentally control her little Rose
>>3354 →
>Rubio hit the exhibitionist on the butt and also gave her a delicious good squeeze of the right butt, he leaned his lips close to her ear, the stench of alcohol, tobacco and unbrushed teeth haunted her delicate nasal passages
Sweetheart, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't mentally control my wife, there shouldn't be discord among my women
>He let go of his wide backside before smoking more of his cigar
>>3354 →
(((Man Without A Name)))
>We weren't especially nutritious, it was just a sport. What good times.
The world is for the strong and the weak must obey, like the wind and the grass, when the wind blows the wind bends before it
>I briefly explain his view of the world, obviously he considers himself a "strong man" because he is free, he does what he wants, sleeps with whom he wants and doesn't answer to anyone, he is, in the end, a truly free man but a slave to his own impulses and human instincts
>He couldn't continue explaining his viewpoint because the poncho fell off his body leaving him in just underwear... what humiliation, now everyone knows that the proud, self-confident strong cowboy is just meat, although little or nothing may matter to him that people see his prominent bulge between his legs; it's not that he's exhibitionist but simply that he doesn't care how people see him, even he might see it as an opportunity, maybe a pretty monkey could like his corpulent, hairy and smelly body with cigar and powder
>And I who only wanted to make some friends with whom to share my secrets about the magic of other worlds.
Hey boy, wait a moment, it was just a joke a while ago, come please
>Blondie bent down to pick up his poncho and hat from the ground, put on the poncho while Option approached him and rolled in the dirty, dusty fabric, took off the dangling cigarette from his lip and handed it to the dark glasses guy in his hand
throw that away please, you can go now
>https://youtu.be/c8NqYibMeow?si=Up_bbhqD2gulTOm3&t=124
▶>They are led to a beautiful, huge and precious dining room, the music of that place could only be compared to the one you've already heard in the movies that play in the bars, those movies that mock the pomp and excesses of the elite that takes advantage of the humble and honest workers that Rubio constantly cheats, he couldn't care less, thief is a thief
>He also couldn't care about the gourmet food, yes, he saw how Rose ate the food properly and could follow her steps but again he didn't care how people saw him. While that fat slut was talking he took out a cigar from his poncho, yes, one of those handsome and delicious ones exported from Cuba that he kept for special occasions, he brought it to his lips and called fire with the tip of his finger and lit it, exhaled a cloud of smoke directly to the ceiling. He also didn't stop at smoking in that beautiful place, he grabbed a spoon and with that same one he ate loudly and spoonful by spoonful the slices of banana
>Don't forget to respond to the survey that has been left at each table.
>He looked at the survey, the one about the government system seemed strange to him, usually he would say that a capitalist anarchic free market but for strange that it may seem it wasn't there, so he went to the option that seemed most appropriate to him: the one of the law of the strongest
>Although something that he didn't like was the wanwanwanesa trying to mentally control her little Rose
>>3354 →
>Rubio hit the exhibitionist on the butt and also gave her a delicious good squeeze of the right butt, he leaned his lips close to her ear, the stench of alcohol, tobacco and unbrushed teeth haunted her delicate nasal passages
Sweetheart, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't mentally control my wife, there shouldn't be discord among my women
>He let go of his wide backside before smoking more of his cigar
Can you cut all the fruits?
>Card
>Name
>Card
>Name
>>2796 →
>you draw your blade, in your hands it becomes a flash that reaches its targets before gravity even gains a nanometer of advantage on you
>the fruits don't know they were hit, the gleam of the blade illuminates the mountaintop like a star-shaped lighthouse, which disappears the next instant.
>you lower your weapon, and the attack squad is soon reduced to tiny cubes ready to be served, the bomb flew free, as the only remaining threat, and with decision, you do a backward jump with your leg extended to take care of it
>your body does an ascending crescent kick, your instep launches like lightning onto the lightning rod and connects.
>but something goes wrong...
>at the slightest contact, the bomb cracks, releasing beams of light like a disco ball, and then it explodes with the blinding brightness of the sun.
>since you are a robot, there is no immediate pain, but your indicators understand the violent pressure increase that pushes you powerfully against the ground, embedding you in the rock as if you were making snow angels
>your kick resulted in a shot to the foot. Once the light stops blinding you, you discover that your attempts to avoid the gunpowder have left you covered in soot.
"Hehehe..."
>a laugh. Perhaps mocking, weak, and filtered through old age, breaks the peace of the valley
Sensei: ohh, Lobelto-san... Don't you remember? You shouldn't hit the bombs
>it was the sensei himself, the first fruit ninja
Sensei: you're still a little green... but your skill with the sword is unmistakable... Cleo... That you are ready...
>then, the sensei turns his back to you
Sensei: follow me please
>the sensei walked, and guided you through the city that had a fruit theme and stuff, until you reached the town hall, the origin of all evil, of control, of the Great Fruither, Big Brother
Sensei: it's your moment young Fruit Ninja™... Are you ready to face the fruits and liberate the world?
>wow, that was fast, as if the OP hadn't really thought anyone would send a piece to this, would you go face your destiny in the epic final battle? Or perhaps, you'd prefer to explore the city and waste time, because we like Dracula surfing
>you draw your blade, in your hands it becomes a flash that reaches its targets before gravity even gains a nanometer of advantage on you
>the fruits don't know they were hit, the gleam of the blade illuminates the mountaintop like a star-shaped lighthouse, which disappears the next instant.
>you lower your weapon, and the attack squad is soon reduced to tiny cubes ready to be served, the bomb flew free, as the only remaining threat, and with decision, you do a backward jump with your leg extended to take care of it
>your body does an ascending crescent kick, your instep launches like lightning onto the lightning rod and connects.
>but something goes wrong...
>at the slightest contact, the bomb cracks, releasing beams of light like a disco ball, and then it explodes with the blinding brightness of the sun.
>since you are a robot, there is no immediate pain, but your indicators understand the violent pressure increase that pushes you powerfully against the ground, embedding you in the rock as if you were making snow angels
>your kick resulted in a shot to the foot. Once the light stops blinding you, you discover that your attempts to avoid the gunpowder have left you covered in soot.
"Hehehe..."
>a laugh. Perhaps mocking, weak, and filtered through old age, breaks the peace of the valley
Sensei: ohh, Lobelto-san... Don't you remember? You shouldn't hit the bombs
>it was the sensei himself, the first fruit ninja
Sensei: you're still a little green... but your skill with the sword is unmistakable... Cleo... That you are ready...
>then, the sensei turns his back to you
Sensei: follow me please
>the sensei walked, and guided you through the city that had a fruit theme and stuff, until you reached the town hall, the origin of all evil, of control, of the Great Fruither, Big Brother
Sensei: it's your moment young Fruit Ninja™... Are you ready to face the fruits and liberate the world?
>wow, that was fast, as if the OP hadn't really thought anyone would send a piece to this, would you go face your destiny in the epic final battle? Or perhaps, you'd prefer to explore the city and waste time, because we like Dracula surfing
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5afllKgGTM
▶November 22, 1963. John F. Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States, disappears during a motorcade. The incident is captured by cameras and numerous eyewitnesses. It was not the first "Abduction" nor the last, and although the American government never accepted the veracity of the phenomenon, labeling everything as a plot orchestrated by the communist threat, Kennedy's abduction turned the world upside down, marking a turning point in the history of sentient creatures.
A decade later, the "F Incident" cools in collective memory, but the abductions continue...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQHUAJTZqF0
▶1973. Now there are new concerns. Old problems resurface. Drugs, love, and peace. The country boils in war against the Charlies, and nobody seems to like the outlook. Life turns its face to rock and roll, to new age solutions when all else fails. In cinema, eroticism and porn have no clear line. In music, you're either funk, or you're nothing. Charles Manson's followers prepare for a race war. Adventists count down the seconds to the final judgment day. Agents of chaos and order, who don't know they are, constantly clash on the thin line that keeps the world sane. And amidst all that maelstrom of conspiracy and color, there is Stepford...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k5pyIj5uoDs
▶This is the story of a small American town covered by the shadow of that which lies on the threshold, human sin and the vestiges of the space between spaces.
Welcome to the Frontrooms.
First and last name
>Gender
>Age
>About you
>About your past
>What you expect for your future (Either you live in Stepford, or sooner or later you'll have to pass through there for work or by chance).
Stat cap
HP: 150
Energy: 100
Hunger: 30/ Thirst: 30
-Strength: 15
-Agility: 15
-Stamina: 15
-Luck: 15
Human limits can be broken. But how...?
...
Note that the roleplay will be very narrative. Only three spots are available.
▶November 22, 1963. John F. Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States, disappears during a motorcade. The incident is captured by cameras and numerous eyewitnesses. It was not the first "Abduction" nor the last, and although the American government never accepted the veracity of the phenomenon, labeling everything as a plot orchestrated by the communist threat, Kennedy's abduction turned the world upside down, marking a turning point in the history of sentient creatures.A decade later, the "F Incident" cools in collective memory, but the abductions continue...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQHUAJTZqF0
▶1973. Now there are new concerns. Old problems resurface. Drugs, love, and peace. The country boils in war against the Charlies, and nobody seems to like the outlook. Life turns its face to rock and roll, to new age solutions when all else fails. In cinema, eroticism and porn have no clear line. In music, you're either funk, or you're nothing. Charles Manson's followers prepare for a race war. Adventists count down the seconds to the final judgment day. Agents of chaos and order, who don't know they are, constantly clash on the thin line that keeps the world sane. And amidst all that maelstrom of conspiracy and color, there is Stepford...https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k5pyIj5uoDs
▶This is the story of a small American town covered by the shadow of that which lies on the threshold, human sin and the vestiges of the space between spaces.Welcome to the Frontrooms.
First and last name
>Gender
>Age
>About you
>About your past
>What you expect for your future (Either you live in Stepford, or sooner or later you'll have to pass through there for work or by chance).
Stat cap
HP: 150
Energy: 100
Hunger: 30/ Thirst: 30
-Strength: 15
-Agility: 15
-Stamina: 15
-Luck: 15
Human limits can be broken. But how...?
...
Note that the roleplay will be very narrative. Only three spots are available.
Placid Sunday, just another morning. Her white sheet shimmered under golden rays, outlining the silhouette of the body she'd finally discovered last night. Her dreams—forgotten now—had been adorned by a vague sensation that allowed her to savor love as art. Things she experiences up close yet somehow elude her.
She wakes with the slowness the sun, so patient, grants her through caresses on her face. Her eyes open fully without delay; she slept well. The intense experience gifted her a pleasant lethargy. She gets up, resisting the urge to raise the blinds and let her eyes greet the landscape because she's naked.
"No one else is supposed to see this," her body seems to say, as she spins playfully toward the dresser.
She begins to dress. She has a big day ahead, and she'll live it beautifully. Rummaging through her clothes, she decides to embrace style—puts on navy blue high-waisted flared pants with a red belt, pairing them with a green tea-colored shirt with a pointed collar. She searches for a blazer too... only has one, floral.
"I love it."
She puts it on and looks in the mirror. She looks neutral... then dares to unbutton several buttons, exposing cleavage. The idea embarrasses her, but also liberates her. She smiles. Fixes her short hair... and now, finally, raises the blinds and opens the window...
The outside seems brighter than yesterday. Days in Steppenford are always a landscape. She loves the sun, adores it, can inhale the scent of morning. And release a sigh of satisfaction. Things were going to change, somehow.
"All future time is better."
That's what she believes. She turns from the window. Passes the painting with just a glance. She'll return to it later, with far more energy. Opens the door, and heads down for breakfast.
She passes through the kitchen, as lively as ever. Celia hums a sweet tune stuck in her head after passing once through a store playing music—a melody from another world, from an album with a beautiful blonde woman gazing at the sky. Life on Mars from Hunky Dory, by David Bowie
"Good morning, Mom!"
She exclaims, wanting to be seen.
>Celia
"Good morning, my li—"
She sees sternum, a little chest. Doesn't matter that they aren't mountains—she sees skin. Like how those crazy girls dress without a bra, that supposed new fashion trend making women clutch their chests.
"My God!"
Abby had already walked past by then, heading straight to the table where her father sat with a coffee cup, today's newspaper, waiting for the eggs and bacon that already smelled delicious.
>Abby
"Dad!" -she felt daring, she wanted to show her rebelliousness-
>Thomas
"Good morning, Abby."
He replied dryly, without taking his eyes off the newspaper. He was still thinking.
>Abby
"Daaad." -she doesn't give up- "What are you reading?"
>Thomas
"The newspaper."
>Abby
"Ahem..."
Celia comes out from behind, peeking nervously from the kitchen. She doesn't know what to say, she knows she should intervene, but at the same time, sticking her nose in would make them see Abby... like this.
"Look at me!"
Another sigh escaped the man. He lowered the newspaper, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he saw his daughter with her breasts almost bare, like a harlot, smiling like an idiot while her hands separated from her body with palms wide open. As if saying 'this is me'.
>Thomas
"Abigail." -he said as he stood up- "Button that up and go put on a bra this instant!"
>Abby
"Huh?! But Dad-"
>Thomas
"SILENCE!" -Abby flinched slightly- "I won't let any daughter of mine dress like a... A... Whore." -he said, pointing-
>Abby
"..." -her eyes widened for a second- "..." -silence, she put on a normal face-
>Thomas
"..." -he breathed-
Abby lowered her gaze but not her defenses, she buttoned her shirt up to her neck, and went upstairs without saying anything. She had a lot to say, she thought, but nothing came out. She left, observed by Celia on her way, who looked at her with a sad face. Thomas slowly returned to his seat, the weight of his own words seemed to leave him not knowing where to look either. He took refuge in Celia's face, but she looked somewhat sad.
"..."
Better, he looked at the newspaper.
...
>Abby
"Is all I've done just being a whore?" -she asked the mirror as she put on her bra- "Is loving, perhaps, the conduct of a whore...?" -it hurt her to be pigeonholed with that word, maybe she would have been indifferent, but she felt that an insult from Dad hurt much more- "Woe is me... Father, why have you turned this beautiful morning into a tragedy?"
She felt like crying. She didn't, she didn't want to start the great day like this. She put on the same clothes, now with the shapes approved by her dad, and went downstairs again. She served herself some cereal, Mom had already served food to the rest. They were all seated, in a strange silence. Abigail ate with her head down, without any witty remarks. In silence.
(The silence is heavy.)
She was doing it on purpose, she wanted the silence to weigh more than anything else. Thomas couldn't help but glance at her from time to time, he didn't understand her. She looked melancholic, with downcast eyes and lips set in a calculated seriousness. And, ironically, the most uncomfortable one turned out to be Celia.
>Celia
"...Don't you want me to cook you something, sweetie? Are you really just having cereal?"
>Abby
(Nothing. Just cereal.)
She thinks it, doesn't want to speak.
>Thomas
"Answer your mother." –he commands–
>Celia
"C-carrie..."
>Abby
"..." –pauses mid-spoonful– "...no, nothing."
>Celia
sigh "You're sure?"
>Abby
"Nothing." –repeats, choosing the most uncomfortable word possible–
>Celia
"Hm..."
>Thomas
"Ja... Your loss." –they don't even look– "Eggs and bacon are the best." –Abby finishes the bite– "You don't even know how to eat something good." –Abby chews– "..." –mumbles–
>Celia
"Jaja..." –fakes a laugh at Thomas's comment to lighten the mood– "ehm... Dad." –tries to change the subject– "Did you watch anything interesting on TV last night...?"
And so they pass another while in nothingness. Until Thomas finally lets some of his resentment fade.
>Thomas
"Uh... don't you wanna go to Simulatron or...?"
>Celia
"Oh, great idea!" –exclaims, genuinely cheerful–
>Abby
"Nah..." –this time, genuine–
>Celia
"Oh..." –feels like she's been slapped down–
>Thomas
"What, no?"
Celia
"Who could it be?" –gets up, unwilling to miss a chance to get scammed, though she might score a new vacuum cleaner–
Celia/Thomas
"Oh!" / "What?" –one is surprised, the other also, but less pleasantly. Abby bolts down and runs to the door at the cry of 'I'll get it!'
Abigail stopped short before the wall stopped hiding her, then stepped out with a balletic lateral leap, full of grace, ending with hands at her sides as she finally saw who stood at the end of the hall.
"¡!" –a hesitation, like a choked guttural sound. A glottal stop. She straightened up and composed herself, flashing a smile at her grandmother for an instant before turning back to her teacher–
<Good morning, Abby.
"Good morning..."
Her words were like watercolors, activating a tone drenched in sighs, watered down by love. She runs a hand through her hair, adjusting it slightly without dropping the smile.
<I brought this. You left it at school yesterday, and I don't blame you, with everything that happened…
"Oh... Right. The morning was a Greek tragedy... But the ending was... hopeful."
(Tell him to just leave it there...)
She thought, since they lived in an area where they could easily leave the door open. That's what Abigail believed. But even if she didn't know, she walked down, with a better idea. She reached out and went for the doorknob, accidentally brushing Robin's hand
"Sorry..."
She was seeking contact. Her hand holds the bicycle. The closeness excites her, yet she prefers to step back a little—safe distance to talk to a police officer without interference (3 meters)—giving her hero a pleased glance.
"Thank you so much... You're very thoughtful. Quite the gentleman." -she flatters as much as she can-
<And I'm sorry.
"Huh?" -she's surprised- "And why on earth should you be sorry?" -alarm fills her, had she been deceived perhaps? Her world wobbles-
<I had to check your files to find out where you live.
Abby sighed at the privacy violation as if a truck’s weight had lifted from her shoulders. She now knows Robin is aware of her dust mite allergy, her home phone number, and of course, her address. Basic things in a relationship.
<I thought about going door to door asking, but I always get lost in the suburbs, everything looks so... similar.
"I understand." -she said, raising her gaze, with a silly smile that won't fade- "Monotony can be disorienting, confusing, and in a painting, almost dull." -almost, because while it would limit your creativity to repetition, redoing the same thing multiple times has its charm- "Don't apologize for that. Really. It's a very sweet gesture. That you went through the trouble... Shouldn't I be the one apologizing, perhaps? I'd ask Minerva right now."
She consulted the man because heaven and Rome were too far away. She's glad Robin knows where she lives. And from this situation, only one thing slightly saddens her: not knowing where he lives. So slightly, though, that it doesn't bother her, because she knows that if she keeps walking through the tunnel, in the end they'll be together and share everything. They're connected, they just need to move forward.
<Why don't you come in and talk more comfortably?
Abby's lips form a delicate circle from surprise, mirroring her teacher's. But she relaxes more quickly, breaking into a broad, almost mischievous smile as the grandmother invites him inside.
(I love you, grandma...)
<Don't even mention it! Abby, tell your mother to set another place at the table.
"Right away." -she turns with the bike, then glances over her shoulder- "Mom told me to ask for whatever you'd like for breakfast~ I'll get you a great breakfast." -she winks at him-
She walks. Crosses the doorway, turns once more.
"Sorry, I know clarifying this feels anticlimactic after what I just said. But I think I haven't made it clear enough: I want you to come in now. I don't like ambiguous scripts." -she lets out a little laugh, waiting for him to enter the house-
2/3
Keksito, this feels strangely politicized
She wakes with the slowness the sun, so patient, grants her through caresses on her face. Her eyes open fully without delay; she slept well. The intense experience gifted her a pleasant lethargy. She gets up, resisting the urge to raise the blinds and let her eyes greet the landscape because she's naked.
"No one else is supposed to see this," her body seems to say, as she spins playfully toward the dresser.
She begins to dress. She has a big day ahead, and she'll live it beautifully. Rummaging through her clothes, she decides to embrace style—puts on navy blue high-waisted flared pants with a red belt, pairing them with a green tea-colored shirt with a pointed collar. She searches for a blazer too... only has one, floral.
"I love it."
She puts it on and looks in the mirror. She looks neutral... then dares to unbutton several buttons, exposing cleavage. The idea embarrasses her, but also liberates her. She smiles. Fixes her short hair... and now, finally, raises the blinds and opens the window...
The outside seems brighter than yesterday. Days in Steppenford are always a landscape. She loves the sun, adores it, can inhale the scent of morning. And release a sigh of satisfaction. Things were going to change, somehow.
"All future time is better."
That's what she believes. She turns from the window. Passes the painting with just a glance. She'll return to it later, with far more energy. Opens the door, and heads down for breakfast.
She passes through the kitchen, as lively as ever. Celia hums a sweet tune stuck in her head after passing once through a store playing music—a melody from another world, from an album with a beautiful blonde woman gazing at the sky. Life on Mars from Hunky Dory, by David Bowie
"Good morning, Mom!"
She exclaims, wanting to be seen.
>Celia
"Good morning, my li—"
She sees sternum, a little chest. Doesn't matter that they aren't mountains—she sees skin. Like how those crazy girls dress without a bra, that supposed new fashion trend making women clutch their chests.
"My God!"
Abby had already walked past by then, heading straight to the table where her father sat with a coffee cup, today's newspaper, waiting for the eggs and bacon that already smelled delicious.
>Abby
"Dad!" -she felt daring, she wanted to show her rebelliousness-
>Thomas
"Good morning, Abby."
He replied dryly, without taking his eyes off the newspaper. He was still thinking.
>Abby
"Daaad." -she doesn't give up- "What are you reading?"
>Thomas
"The newspaper."
>Abby
"Ahem..."
Celia comes out from behind, peeking nervously from the kitchen. She doesn't know what to say, she knows she should intervene, but at the same time, sticking her nose in would make them see Abby... like this.
"Look at me!"
Another sigh escaped the man. He lowered the newspaper, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he saw his daughter with her breasts almost bare, like a harlot, smiling like an idiot while her hands separated from her body with palms wide open. As if saying 'this is me'.
>Thomas
"Abigail." -he said as he stood up- "Button that up and go put on a bra this instant!"
>Abby
"Huh?! But Dad-"
>Thomas
"SILENCE!" -Abby flinched slightly- "I won't let any daughter of mine dress like a... A... Whore." -he said, pointing-
>Abby
"..." -her eyes widened for a second- "..." -silence, she put on a normal face-
>Thomas
"..." -he breathed-
Abby lowered her gaze but not her defenses, she buttoned her shirt up to her neck, and went upstairs without saying anything. She had a lot to say, she thought, but nothing came out. She left, observed by Celia on her way, who looked at her with a sad face. Thomas slowly returned to his seat, the weight of his own words seemed to leave him not knowing where to look either. He took refuge in Celia's face, but she looked somewhat sad.
"..."
Better, he looked at the newspaper.
...
>Abby
"Is all I've done just being a whore?" -she asked the mirror as she put on her bra- "Is loving, perhaps, the conduct of a whore...?" -it hurt her to be pigeonholed with that word, maybe she would have been indifferent, but she felt that an insult from Dad hurt much more- "Woe is me... Father, why have you turned this beautiful morning into a tragedy?"
She felt like crying. She didn't, she didn't want to start the great day like this. She put on the same clothes, now with the shapes approved by her dad, and went downstairs again. She served herself some cereal, Mom had already served food to the rest. They were all seated, in a strange silence. Abigail ate with her head down, without any witty remarks. In silence.
(The silence is heavy.)
She was doing it on purpose, she wanted the silence to weigh more than anything else. Thomas couldn't help but glance at her from time to time, he didn't understand her. She looked melancholic, with downcast eyes and lips set in a calculated seriousness. And, ironically, the most uncomfortable one turned out to be Celia.
>Celia
"...Don't you want me to cook you something, sweetie? Are you really just having cereal?"
>Abby
(Nothing. Just cereal.)
She thinks it, doesn't want to speak.
>Thomas
"Answer your mother." –he commands–
>Celia
"C-carrie..."
>Abby
"..." –pauses mid-spoonful– "...no, nothing."
>Celia
sigh "You're sure?"
>Abby
"Nothing." –repeats, choosing the most uncomfortable word possible–
>Celia
"Hm..."
>Thomas
"Ja... Your loss." –they don't even look– "Eggs and bacon are the best." –Abby finishes the bite– "You don't even know how to eat something good." –Abby chews– "..." –mumbles–
>Celia
"Jaja..." –fakes a laugh at Thomas's comment to lighten the mood– "ehm... Dad." –tries to change the subject– "Did you watch anything interesting on TV last night...?"
And so they pass another while in nothingness. Until Thomas finally lets some of his resentment fade.
>Thomas
"Uh... don't you wanna go to Simulatron or...?"
>Celia
"Oh, great idea!" –exclaims, genuinely cheerful–
>Abby
"Nah..." –this time, genuine–
>Celia
"Oh..." –feels like she's been slapped down–
>Thomas
"What, no?"
Celia
"Who could it be?" –gets up, unwilling to miss a chance to get scammed, though she might score a new vacuum cleaner–
Celia/Thomas
"Oh!" / "What?" –one is surprised, the other also, but less pleasantly. Abby bolts down and runs to the door at the cry of 'I'll get it!'
Abigail stopped short before the wall stopped hiding her, then stepped out with a balletic lateral leap, full of grace, ending with hands at her sides as she finally saw who stood at the end of the hall.
"¡!" –a hesitation, like a choked guttural sound. A glottal stop. She straightened up and composed herself, flashing a smile at her grandmother for an instant before turning back to her teacher–
<Good morning, Abby.
"Good morning..."
Her words were like watercolors, activating a tone drenched in sighs, watered down by love. She runs a hand through her hair, adjusting it slightly without dropping the smile.
<I brought this. You left it at school yesterday, and I don't blame you, with everything that happened…
"Oh... Right. The morning was a Greek tragedy... But the ending was... hopeful."
(Tell him to just leave it there...)
She thought, since they lived in an area where they could easily leave the door open. That's what Abigail believed. But even if she didn't know, she walked down, with a better idea. She reached out and went for the doorknob, accidentally brushing Robin's hand
"Sorry..."
She was seeking contact. Her hand holds the bicycle. The closeness excites her, yet she prefers to step back a little—safe distance to talk to a police officer without interference (3 meters)—giving her hero a pleased glance.
"Thank you so much... You're very thoughtful. Quite the gentleman." -she flatters as much as she can-
<And I'm sorry.
"Huh?" -she's surprised- "And why on earth should you be sorry?" -alarm fills her, had she been deceived perhaps? Her world wobbles-
<I had to check your files to find out where you live.
Abby sighed at the privacy violation as if a truck’s weight had lifted from her shoulders. She now knows Robin is aware of her dust mite allergy, her home phone number, and of course, her address. Basic things in a relationship.
<I thought about going door to door asking, but I always get lost in the suburbs, everything looks so... similar.
"I understand." -she said, raising her gaze, with a silly smile that won't fade- "Monotony can be disorienting, confusing, and in a painting, almost dull." -almost, because while it would limit your creativity to repetition, redoing the same thing multiple times has its charm- "Don't apologize for that. Really. It's a very sweet gesture. That you went through the trouble... Shouldn't I be the one apologizing, perhaps? I'd ask Minerva right now."
She consulted the man because heaven and Rome were too far away. She's glad Robin knows where she lives. And from this situation, only one thing slightly saddens her: not knowing where he lives. So slightly, though, that it doesn't bother her, because she knows that if she keeps walking through the tunnel, in the end they'll be together and share everything. They're connected, they just need to move forward.
<Why don't you come in and talk more comfortably?
Abby's lips form a delicate circle from surprise, mirroring her teacher's. But she relaxes more quickly, breaking into a broad, almost mischievous smile as the grandmother invites him inside.
(I love you, grandma...)
<Don't even mention it! Abby, tell your mother to set another place at the table.
"Right away." -she turns with the bike, then glances over her shoulder- "Mom told me to ask for whatever you'd like for breakfast~ I'll get you a great breakfast." -she winks at him-
She walks. Crosses the doorway, turns once more.
"Sorry, I know clarifying this feels anticlimactic after what I just said. But I think I haven't made it clear enough: I want you to come in now. I don't like ambiguous scripts." -she lets out a little laugh, waiting for him to enter the house-
2/3
Keksito, this feels strangely politicized
a small conversation arose among parents seeing the fervor with which the girl rushed to answer the door. and it was already reaching its end, and of course, drawing conclusions.
>Celia
"maybe she was waiting for someone... special." -she admits it; her girl is growing up-
>Thomas
"she never told me anything about that." -he's less accepting-
and then, the little one enters the scene. walking with an entirely different air than when she left, intoxicated by a love that makes her smile, raise her finger, and speak with more sweetness than sugar.
>Celia
"abby!" -she calls out; thomas just stares, subjecting her to jealous scrutiny-
>Abby
"mother, please, make a little more room in the flavor of the morning! a chair, a plate, and serve your finest breakfast dish... for excess."
>Celia
"ah, yes my queen." -she gets up- "are you going to eat?"
>Abby
"it's for a guest, truth be told. the lie discarded." -she asked robin to wait before introducing him; she'd call him in as soon as she was done; thomas was already frowning-
>Celia
"oh!" -she's a bit delighted, feeling she was right... her daughter has fallen in love- "and who is it?" -she asks to see him-
>Abby
-looks behind her- "dear professor robin, please, come forward~"
and so, he steps forward into the spotlight. his presence shocks everyone in the room; celia's eyes fly open, horrified for a second; thomas crushes the newspaper as if witnessing a crime. robin, with his androgynous beauty that abby adores, was not without controversy in a conservative household.
>Celia
"i'll go cook."
she steps away. not knowing what to think, it takes her a second even to look properly and understand that her daughter isn't some sick deviant drawn to this long-haired man's delicate features. she must sort her thoughts; she'll make a grand breakfast for him... but she needs every second in the kitchen to recompose herself.
>Abby
"see? mother will make a breakfast beyond delicious—you can believe it. i'm as delicate with food as i am with painting. please, follow me." -she invites him to sit, leading him by the wrist, pours him some orange juice, and sits beside him-
thomas glares murder at the other man. struggling so his quick-trigger side doesn't make him draw immediately. abby gazes up at the professor with the same eyes she uses to admire art. and it enrages him. he doesn't know whether he's more upset by how the guy looks or by how his daughter looks at him—but it doesn't matter.
"well... i couldn't introduce you to mom. but... this is my grandpa josh." -points with her hand- "and how venerable he is. i respect him, even if he's from another era." -leans in to whisper- "but he doesn't want me to help him with that oatmeal he struggles to bring to his mouth. jiji"
>Thomas
"abigail!" -he scolds her for the closeness; she returns to her seat somewhat reluctantly, looks at her dad with mild discomfort, but decides to smile; the moment with robin is a balm for everything else-
>Abby
"he's my father, thomas. dad is a... ahem. agent."
>Thomas
"police."
>Abby
"ah. that's right. but he's one of the groovies, isn't he?"
>Thomas
"what was your name again?" -he asks the professor-
Robin!
"And what exactly did you come here for...?"
>Abby
"He brought me my bicycle. And later, we're going to the Simulatron together." —she just made that up—
>Thomas
"What?!?" —that catches him off guard, anger replaced by pure confusion and surprise at such a revelation—
Celia returns a little while later. She refills everyone's orange juice if it's gone below half. And she places before Robin a gorgeous plate: two eggs with runny yolks, pancakes topped with melted butter drenched in maple syrup, two large strips of bacon, and a large toast cut diagonally in half so it looks like two.
>Abby
"Thank you so much, Mom." —she's cheerful—
After that, she sits back down, with a somewhat nervous smile, yet more accepting.
>Celia
"Sorry for the wait... Did I miss anything?"
>Thomas
"Nothing..." —still staring at the guy— "hey. And you... 'Robin', right...?" —says the name with a mocking tone— "why the fuck don't you cut those filthy greasy locks like a real man?" —Abby is already frowning— "You're not one of those dirty queers, are you?"
>Celia
"Dear..." —gets tense—
>Abby
"I assure you he's not!" —raises a finger— "Professor Robin is... very masculine..." —her other hand wanders, and somehow reaches her professor's knee, gently caressing it, then his thigh—
>Thomas
"Oh yeah? Doesn't look like it to me. You know being a faggot is illegal, right?" I suppose back then it was illegal in nearly every state. Unless Steppenford happens to be one of the 4 states that had just legalized it, which would fuck up this dialogue lol "Don't wanna spend two years in a cell. Or do you? I've heard queers have a rough time in there—"
>Abby
"Dad!" —stops touching Robin abruptly—
>Thomas
"What? I was just asking."
>Abby
"You're embarrassing me... Professor Robin is..." —touches her heart, blushing— "special... to me..."
>Celia
"!!"
>Thomas
"..." —takes a deep breath, suddenly stands up— "I gotta go to work."
>Celia
"Dear—" —stands up too, but he was already gone. Celia sighs; there was nothing to do when he got like this... she sits back down—
>Abby
sigh of ugh what a drag "sorry about him... I'm afraid in the end, he's just another one of those cops..." —eyes closed, indignant—
>Celia
sad sigh "Abby..." —this girl...—
>Abby
"Anyway... Robin, this is my mom. Celia."
>Celia
"Pleasure to meet you..." —despite everything— "Abby really enjoys painting... I suppose that's something you taught her." —she says "painting"— "uh... thank you for that."
Abby always felt she had the talent, but she wouldn't discredit Robin's help.
"And..." —just making conversation— "what... ahem..." —wanted to ask what his intentions were with her daughter, but that didn't seem like the best word— "what kind of connection do you two have?"
Abby tenses up. That was a question she was extremely interested in. Meanwhile, some oatmeal spills onto Celia's blouse.
"Oh Dad... seriously, don't you want a little help with that...?"
3/3
Now I can finally rest in peace.
Thanks so much Steppenfoooord sorry for so little
>Celia
"maybe she was waiting for someone... special." -she admits it; her girl is growing up-
>Thomas
"she never told me anything about that." -he's less accepting-
and then, the little one enters the scene. walking with an entirely different air than when she left, intoxicated by a love that makes her smile, raise her finger, and speak with more sweetness than sugar.
>Celia
"abby!" -she calls out; thomas just stares, subjecting her to jealous scrutiny-
>Abby
"mother, please, make a little more room in the flavor of the morning! a chair, a plate, and serve your finest breakfast dish... for excess."
>Celia
"ah, yes my queen." -she gets up- "are you going to eat?"
>Abby
"it's for a guest, truth be told. the lie discarded." -she asked robin to wait before introducing him; she'd call him in as soon as she was done; thomas was already frowning-
>Celia
"oh!" -she's a bit delighted, feeling she was right... her daughter has fallen in love- "and who is it?" -she asks to see him-
>Abby
-looks behind her- "dear professor robin, please, come forward~"
and so, he steps forward into the spotlight. his presence shocks everyone in the room; celia's eyes fly open, horrified for a second; thomas crushes the newspaper as if witnessing a crime. robin, with his androgynous beauty that abby adores, was not without controversy in a conservative household.
>Celia
"i'll go cook."
she steps away. not knowing what to think, it takes her a second even to look properly and understand that her daughter isn't some sick deviant drawn to this long-haired man's delicate features. she must sort her thoughts; she'll make a grand breakfast for him... but she needs every second in the kitchen to recompose herself.
>Abby
"see? mother will make a breakfast beyond delicious—you can believe it. i'm as delicate with food as i am with painting. please, follow me." -she invites him to sit, leading him by the wrist, pours him some orange juice, and sits beside him-
thomas glares murder at the other man. struggling so his quick-trigger side doesn't make him draw immediately. abby gazes up at the professor with the same eyes she uses to admire art. and it enrages him. he doesn't know whether he's more upset by how the guy looks or by how his daughter looks at him—but it doesn't matter.
"well... i couldn't introduce you to mom. but... this is my grandpa josh." -points with her hand- "and how venerable he is. i respect him, even if he's from another era." -leans in to whisper- "but he doesn't want me to help him with that oatmeal he struggles to bring to his mouth. jiji"
>Thomas
"abigail!" -he scolds her for the closeness; she returns to her seat somewhat reluctantly, looks at her dad with mild discomfort, but decides to smile; the moment with robin is a balm for everything else-
>Abby
"he's my father, thomas. dad is a... ahem. agent."
>Thomas
"police."
>Abby
"ah. that's right. but he's one of the groovies, isn't he?"
>Thomas
"what was your name again?" -he asks the professor-
Robin!
"And what exactly did you come here for...?"
>Abby
"He brought me my bicycle. And later, we're going to the Simulatron together." —she just made that up—
>Thomas
"What?!?" —that catches him off guard, anger replaced by pure confusion and surprise at such a revelation—
Celia returns a little while later. She refills everyone's orange juice if it's gone below half. And she places before Robin a gorgeous plate: two eggs with runny yolks, pancakes topped with melted butter drenched in maple syrup, two large strips of bacon, and a large toast cut diagonally in half so it looks like two.
>Abby
"Thank you so much, Mom." —she's cheerful—
After that, she sits back down, with a somewhat nervous smile, yet more accepting.
>Celia
"Sorry for the wait... Did I miss anything?"
>Thomas
"Nothing..." —still staring at the guy— "hey. And you... 'Robin', right...?" —says the name with a mocking tone— "why the fuck don't you cut those filthy greasy locks like a real man?" —Abby is already frowning— "You're not one of those dirty queers, are you?"
>Celia
"Dear..." —gets tense—
>Abby
"I assure you he's not!" —raises a finger— "Professor Robin is... very masculine..." —her other hand wanders, and somehow reaches her professor's knee, gently caressing it, then his thigh—
>Thomas
"Oh yeah? Doesn't look like it to me. You know being a faggot is illegal, right?" I suppose back then it was illegal in nearly every state. Unless Steppenford happens to be one of the 4 states that had just legalized it, which would fuck up this dialogue lol "Don't wanna spend two years in a cell. Or do you? I've heard queers have a rough time in there—"
>Abby
"Dad!" —stops touching Robin abruptly—
>Thomas
"What? I was just asking."
>Abby
"You're embarrassing me... Professor Robin is..." —touches her heart, blushing— "special... to me..."
>Celia
"!!"
>Thomas
"..." —takes a deep breath, suddenly stands up— "I gotta go to work."
>Celia
"Dear—" —stands up too, but he was already gone. Celia sighs; there was nothing to do when he got like this... she sits back down—
>Abby
sigh of ugh what a drag "sorry about him... I'm afraid in the end, he's just another one of those cops..." —eyes closed, indignant—
>Celia
sad sigh "Abby..." —this girl...—
>Abby
"Anyway... Robin, this is my mom. Celia."
>Celia
"Pleasure to meet you..." —despite everything— "Abby really enjoys painting... I suppose that's something you taught her." —she says "painting"— "uh... thank you for that."
Abby always felt she had the talent, but she wouldn't discredit Robin's help.
"And..." —just making conversation— "what... ahem..." —wanted to ask what his intentions were with her daughter, but that didn't seem like the best word— "what kind of connection do you two have?"
Abby tenses up. That was a question she was extremely interested in. Meanwhile, some oatmeal spills onto Celia's blouse.
"Oh Dad... seriously, don't you want a little help with that...?"
3/3
Now I can finally rest in peace.
Thanks so much Steppenfoooord sorry for so little
>>2780 →
<David Stanford (Time: Indeterminate. Date: March, year 1973)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 3
-Agility: 3
-Stamina: 3
-Luck: 2
Inventory
-Secret pockets 2/6
Truck keys
x17 Dollars
Spells:
-Eye of Resonance (Reads the soul imprint of beings like yourself. -2 energy per minute)
Techniques:
-Demonic Suction: Renders enemy unconscious for 6 hours. Enemy must be in a state of suggestion or weakness to succeed (Does not work on creatures too large)
Stepford
Static cuts the screen, a storm of snow encapsulated. Abe removes the semi-transparent panel and smacks the television. The image clears, but instead of showing two pixels of light, it displays a strange music video.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kjxSCAalsBE
▶
You feel a tingling in your perineum. Something in the ether has changed. Maybe it's a message from the lower astral—omen of future blessing or warning of ill fortune?
Abe takes off his cap to scratch his scalp, theorizing the antenna picked up a signal from some other house. Unlike you, he's a skeptic of magic, but no science book or conspiranoia could prepare him when the window explodes from an impact, and a dark-winged bird of prey bounces and flaps against the wooden floor, then stands up and starts pecking at the glass.
Hands on the wheel, eyes on the dirt road, you can't stop thinking about what happened at your parents' house. Julia said it was a crow, but you're certain it was a Yata-Garasu. To make things worse, a pimple popped up on your nose—another sign?
Abe: O-over there.
You turn into the woods only for the truck, with a jolt, to end up tilted and sinking into a path with deceptive firmness, swallowing it like quicksand. Annabel Lee, the porcelain doll, lifts her gaze from the book on her tiny legs and points forward with her little white hand to say:
Insanity.
Among the shadows of clustered trees, you spot a scarlet egg pulsing like a heart. Abe says it wasn't there before. You try to reverse, but the truck sinks deeper, and you shift your gaze from the egg to the ground, where red grass—actually tendrils—waves, welcoming you. Abe opens the door, but Annabel Lee warns them they must not step onto the Havester's trap.
Abe crawls to the back seats, lifts a boot, and kicks out the rear window. They move to the cargo area and from there make the best leap possible to escape the egg's zone of influence. You know they've succeeded when the earth doesn't devour them.
During your frantic escape, you left the Melanicus and other belongings behind. As you glance back with Annabel Lee under your arm, you watch the vehicle sink and vanish beneath the ground. The last thing you see is the license plate. The egg remains waiting beyond, among the slender tree trunks, patient.
What evil will hatch?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rc-PocF6-9o
▶
At the end of March, Abe and you stole a new pickup truck to escape the pandemonium. Amid screams and burning houses, hands reached out trying to stop you, leaving bloody trails across cracked windows—but you never stopped accelerating. On every one of those manic faces chasing you, the mark of a raw, bleeding cross was visible.
Abe, upright in the passenger seat, without his cap or mask, his eyes heavy with dark circles fixed on the road, begins reciting without stumbling:
And thus they recognized the presence of the Red Death.
It had come like a thief in the night.
And one by one the guests fell in the blood-stained orgy halls,
each dying in the desperate posture of their fall.
And the life of the ebony clock died with the last of those joyous beings.
And the flames of the tripods expired.
And darkness, and decay, and the Red Death ruled over all.
The forest pulls you away from the chaos. You drive to a distant cliff from where you can glimpse the town. From within the smoke rises a giant, its hollow head touching the clouds, its tentacles waving shadows capable of stretching across all of Stepford. Abe touches your shoulder to get your attention, then points at the horizon with a trembling finger.
Abe: T-t-the f-f-four h-h-horsemen of the f-f-f-finish.
Black helicopters approach and circle the city, swirling like swarming flies above a fresh corpse. You suspected there were more than four, but just as you were counting, a blinding electric flash blinds you.
The outline of the dome is visible for only a few seconds before it shields itself through transference. The torso separates from the giant, dropping chunks of flesh, but instead of collapsing, it uses its tentacles to lift itself and carefully descend from the dome, while its cyclopean legs remain still and upright inside the dome.
As your mind struggles to process what you’ve seen, several questions come to you:
What will you do with your life? How will you live? Will you tell others what you saw in Stepford?
...
I know it's a bit late. But anon's reply to Abby inspired me to give both of them an epilogue.
<David Stanford (Time: Indeterminate. Date: March, year 1973)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 3
-Agility: 3
-Stamina: 3
-Luck: 2
Inventory
-Secret pockets 2/6
Truck keys
x17 Dollars
Spells:
-Eye of Resonance (Reads the soul imprint of beings like yourself. -2 energy per minute)
Techniques:
-Demonic Suction: Renders enemy unconscious for 6 hours. Enemy must be in a state of suggestion or weakness to succeed (Does not work on creatures too large)
Stepford
Static cuts the screen, a storm of snow encapsulated. Abe removes the semi-transparent panel and smacks the television. The image clears, but instead of showing two pixels of light, it displays a strange music video.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kjxSCAalsBE
▶You feel a tingling in your perineum. Something in the ether has changed. Maybe it's a message from the lower astral—omen of future blessing or warning of ill fortune?
Abe takes off his cap to scratch his scalp, theorizing the antenna picked up a signal from some other house. Unlike you, he's a skeptic of magic, but no science book or conspiranoia could prepare him when the window explodes from an impact, and a dark-winged bird of prey bounces and flaps against the wooden floor, then stands up and starts pecking at the glass.
Hands on the wheel, eyes on the dirt road, you can't stop thinking about what happened at your parents' house. Julia said it was a crow, but you're certain it was a Yata-Garasu. To make things worse, a pimple popped up on your nose—another sign?
Abe: O-over there.
You turn into the woods only for the truck, with a jolt, to end up tilted and sinking into a path with deceptive firmness, swallowing it like quicksand. Annabel Lee, the porcelain doll, lifts her gaze from the book on her tiny legs and points forward with her little white hand to say:
Insanity.
Among the shadows of clustered trees, you spot a scarlet egg pulsing like a heart. Abe says it wasn't there before. You try to reverse, but the truck sinks deeper, and you shift your gaze from the egg to the ground, where red grass—actually tendrils—waves, welcoming you. Abe opens the door, but Annabel Lee warns them they must not step onto the Havester's trap.
Abe crawls to the back seats, lifts a boot, and kicks out the rear window. They move to the cargo area and from there make the best leap possible to escape the egg's zone of influence. You know they've succeeded when the earth doesn't devour them.
During your frantic escape, you left the Melanicus and other belongings behind. As you glance back with Annabel Lee under your arm, you watch the vehicle sink and vanish beneath the ground. The last thing you see is the license plate. The egg remains waiting beyond, among the slender tree trunks, patient.
What evil will hatch?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rc-PocF6-9o
▶At the end of March, Abe and you stole a new pickup truck to escape the pandemonium. Amid screams and burning houses, hands reached out trying to stop you, leaving bloody trails across cracked windows—but you never stopped accelerating. On every one of those manic faces chasing you, the mark of a raw, bleeding cross was visible.
Abe, upright in the passenger seat, without his cap or mask, his eyes heavy with dark circles fixed on the road, begins reciting without stumbling:
And thus they recognized the presence of the Red Death.
It had come like a thief in the night.
And one by one the guests fell in the blood-stained orgy halls,
each dying in the desperate posture of their fall.
And the life of the ebony clock died with the last of those joyous beings.
And the flames of the tripods expired.
And darkness, and decay, and the Red Death ruled over all.
The forest pulls you away from the chaos. You drive to a distant cliff from where you can glimpse the town. From within the smoke rises a giant, its hollow head touching the clouds, its tentacles waving shadows capable of stretching across all of Stepford. Abe touches your shoulder to get your attention, then points at the horizon with a trembling finger.
Abe: T-t-the f-f-four h-h-horsemen of the f-f-f-finish.
Black helicopters approach and circle the city, swirling like swarming flies above a fresh corpse. You suspected there were more than four, but just as you were counting, a blinding electric flash blinds you.
The outline of the dome is visible for only a few seconds before it shields itself through transference. The torso separates from the giant, dropping chunks of flesh, but instead of collapsing, it uses its tentacles to lift itself and carefully descend from the dome, while its cyclopean legs remain still and upright inside the dome.
As your mind struggles to process what you’ve seen, several questions come to you:
What will you do with your life? How will you live? Will you tell others what you saw in Stepford?
...
I know it's a bit late. But anon's reply to Abby inspired me to give both of them an epilogue.
The old gods are dead or sleeping. Their believers today are so distant from their legends that they have heard them only as tales passed down through generations, and none personally know the times when they still walked with their creations. They simply follow the same rituals that were taught to the ancestors of their ancestors without really knowing why they do them, for whom they do them, or if those gods to whom they pay tribute still exist or ever did. They simply believe, because a lack of belief leads to rebellion, conscious or unconscious. And you? What do you do? The same as always, you live in the midst of all this.
https://youtu.be/j8IX0CXvT0M?si=657YMPBJWZTfLeun
▶
Welcome to Riverveil, an ordinary town on the edge of Arizona where ancient traditions are preserved, but above all, the sanctity of the "Veil." For longer than humanity has existed, the world has been inhabited by entities beyond its comprehension, which only live in harmony with it after bloody battles between the most outstanding exponents of their species. These concluded in a kind of millennial truce in which most of these beings retired to their own domains to rest, allowing others with whom humanity is more familiar, and some with whom it is not, to live in peace. The end of these wars was the origin of what is now known as the "Veil."
The Veil of night, as thin as the silk from which the veil protecting a bride's face from the curious eyes of her future husband during the ceremony is made, is the modern world's last defense against the chaos that threatens to destabilize it. For a period of just 8 hours each night, all the evils that humanity as a whole must not know are free to roam under the moonlight and do with this freedom whatever their instinct or will dictates. To keep at bay all who seek to break the fragile balance in which the world finds itself, there are numerous organizations, groups, and independent agents of order who, with weapons, arcane knowledge, and their own inherited or acquired curses, fight directly or indirectly every night and day.
Awakening the ancient gods, attracting an external one, destroying the current order to build a new one upon its ruins in which they reign supreme... the reasons why a creature of the night attempts, consciously or unconsciously, to break the veil and provoke global changes are as varied as these beings themselves. He who intends to hunt down the various agents of chaos or simply live peacefully amidst their plans and the actions of those who try to thwart them needs to know how to fend for himself. That is the case for all who know the secrets that many prefer to keep hidden.
>Character Sheet
Stats: 10 points to distribute as you wish.
Item (Optional):
https://youtu.be/j8IX0CXvT0M?si=657YMPBJWZTfLeun
▶Welcome to Riverveil, an ordinary town on the edge of Arizona where ancient traditions are preserved, but above all, the sanctity of the "Veil." For longer than humanity has existed, the world has been inhabited by entities beyond its comprehension, which only live in harmony with it after bloody battles between the most outstanding exponents of their species. These concluded in a kind of millennial truce in which most of these beings retired to their own domains to rest, allowing others with whom humanity is more familiar, and some with whom it is not, to live in peace. The end of these wars was the origin of what is now known as the "Veil."
The Veil of night, as thin as the silk from which the veil protecting a bride's face from the curious eyes of her future husband during the ceremony is made, is the modern world's last defense against the chaos that threatens to destabilize it. For a period of just 8 hours each night, all the evils that humanity as a whole must not know are free to roam under the moonlight and do with this freedom whatever their instinct or will dictates. To keep at bay all who seek to break the fragile balance in which the world finds itself, there are numerous organizations, groups, and independent agents of order who, with weapons, arcane knowledge, and their own inherited or acquired curses, fight directly or indirectly every night and day.
Awakening the ancient gods, attracting an external one, destroying the current order to build a new one upon its ruins in which they reign supreme... the reasons why a creature of the night attempts, consciously or unconsciously, to break the veil and provoke global changes are as varied as these beings themselves. He who intends to hunt down the various agents of chaos or simply live peacefully amidst their plans and the actions of those who try to thwart them needs to know how to fend for himself. That is the case for all who know the secrets that many prefer to keep hidden.
>Character Sheet
Stats: 10 points to distribute as you wish.
Item (Optional):
>>2541 →
>Lev
"¿The only thing you can do?"
"..."
"Breaking things is very easy. Repairing... 'ehh', not so much"
"It has quite a value, don't despise that sacred gift"
What I meant by that, who knows. But after saying goodbye and leaving that Jesu' monastery, I walk a few steps along the lonely streets, until I notice how the sun rises on the horizon.
"Good morning"
I say with a smile while I cover my face a bit with my hand, so I can see without the sun blinding me. It should have been like 5 or 6 in the morning, and I was quite tired, so I was just walking to my temple, my home, my... home. It was a productive day, although tomorrow (today) I would have to start to... do that. Slowly I arrive at that abandoned shack, an old bus stop covered in rust, in an area where there was no longer a street, just grassy fields up to my chest, and my presence. I lie down on the bench, and I just look at the rusted tin roof while time passes... I want to scratch my hand, but I don't do it, for now.
>Lev
"¿The only thing you can do?"
"..."
"Breaking things is very easy. Repairing... 'ehh', not so much"
"It has quite a value, don't despise that sacred gift"
What I meant by that, who knows. But after saying goodbye and leaving that Jesu' monastery, I walk a few steps along the lonely streets, until I notice how the sun rises on the horizon.
"Good morning"
I say with a smile while I cover my face a bit with my hand, so I can see without the sun blinding me. It should have been like 5 or 6 in the morning, and I was quite tired, so I was just walking to my temple, my home, my... home. It was a productive day, although tomorrow (today) I would have to start to... do that. Slowly I arrive at that abandoned shack, an old bus stop covered in rust, in an area where there was no longer a street, just grassy fields up to my chest, and my presence. I lie down on the bench, and I just look at the rusted tin roof while time passes... I want to scratch my hand, but I don't do it, for now.
>>2542 →
Sleeping outdoors is especially dangerous on cold days like these, and with how poorly protected your shelter is from the elements, you might as well be sleeping outside. Fortunately or by miracle, it seems like it hasn't rained or snowed during the time you've been resting, since you wake up, alive and relatively dry, at some indeterminate time in the afternoon, you can assume.
<Someone: Good afternoon.
Someone's voice confirms your assumptions, or to be more precise, not the voice of someone random, but the unmistakable voice of someone you know and who you know has trouble pronouncing certain esses.
<Someone: An empanada?
He offers you the already cold dough with a bare hand, without a plate or napkin due to lack of resources. This is something he often does, since he, like you, lacks the means to refrigerate or preserve food for long periods. Usually he trades it or shares it with whoever gives him something of use or at least thanks.
<Someone: Of meat, it's the last one I have left.
The rusty cart he uses to carry his food and other goods isn't any cleaner than him, the few Tupperware containers he brings are also in poor condition due to the lack of water and soap to wash them frequently and the fact that he often mixes them up with his other clutter, as he's doing right now.
<Someone: The other one I traded for this... but...
After asking you to wait and search through his things for a while, he takes out two fruits.
<Someone: Pera. Do you want one?
He offers you one of the pears and keeps the other, covering the cart and his things with a somewhat cleaner sheet than the rest.
<Someone: I'm going to keep the seed and plant it outside of my box. When the tree grows, I'll eat pear all day.
He tells you with a smile of rotten teeth that doesn't do much to grace his unfortunate face.
<Someone: I can give you one too.
Despite his ugliness, intellectual deficiency, vagrancy, disease, and oddness, the people in the community see him as a kind person due to these customs of sharing what little he has with others without harboring ambitions to possess more. The people call him Angel, obviously because he has a name and isn't just called "Someone," although it's unclear if that's his real name or some nickname.
At times in the afternoon, he usually passes by these remote areas of the city to pick up whatever he finds discarded out of sight of the officials who would bother to enforce the law that prohibits people from rummaging through trash containers. You also know he lives under the bridge in the center near other homeless people, although you don't know exactly what conditions he lives in or what he does with the debris he collects, if anything besides just accumulating it.
The sentence is good, but it alone doesn't fill the stomach, and it's already late enough to take something to your mouth without it counting as breaking the fast, your body knows you need it. It's also late enough for the free soup to start being served behind the church, if you prefer a more complete meal.
Sleeping outdoors is especially dangerous on cold days like these, and with how poorly protected your shelter is from the elements, you might as well be sleeping outside. Fortunately or by miracle, it seems like it hasn't rained or snowed during the time you've been resting, since you wake up, alive and relatively dry, at some indeterminate time in the afternoon, you can assume.
<Someone: Good afternoon.
Someone's voice confirms your assumptions, or to be more precise, not the voice of someone random, but the unmistakable voice of someone you know and who you know has trouble pronouncing certain esses.
<Someone: An empanada?
He offers you the already cold dough with a bare hand, without a plate or napkin due to lack of resources. This is something he often does, since he, like you, lacks the means to refrigerate or preserve food for long periods. Usually he trades it or shares it with whoever gives him something of use or at least thanks.
<Someone: Of meat, it's the last one I have left.
The rusty cart he uses to carry his food and other goods isn't any cleaner than him, the few Tupperware containers he brings are also in poor condition due to the lack of water and soap to wash them frequently and the fact that he often mixes them up with his other clutter, as he's doing right now.
<Someone: The other one I traded for this... but...
After asking you to wait and search through his things for a while, he takes out two fruits.
<Someone: Pera. Do you want one?
He offers you one of the pears and keeps the other, covering the cart and his things with a somewhat cleaner sheet than the rest.
<Someone: I'm going to keep the seed and plant it outside of my box. When the tree grows, I'll eat pear all day.
He tells you with a smile of rotten teeth that doesn't do much to grace his unfortunate face.
<Someone: I can give you one too.
Despite his ugliness, intellectual deficiency, vagrancy, disease, and oddness, the people in the community see him as a kind person due to these customs of sharing what little he has with others without harboring ambitions to possess more. The people call him Angel, obviously because he has a name and isn't just called "Someone," although it's unclear if that's his real name or some nickname.
At times in the afternoon, he usually passes by these remote areas of the city to pick up whatever he finds discarded out of sight of the officials who would bother to enforce the law that prohibits people from rummaging through trash containers. You also know he lives under the bridge in the center near other homeless people, although you don't know exactly what conditions he lives in or what he does with the debris he collects, if anything besides just accumulating it.
The sentence is good, but it alone doesn't fill the stomach, and it's already late enough to take something to your mouth without it counting as breaking the fast, your body knows you need it. It's also late enough for the free soup to start being served behind the church, if you prefer a more complete meal.
>>2543 →
The night was tough, as cold as the touch of the moon, so beautiful and distinct, but shining without burning your retinas, in such celestial humility, allowing the mortal to contemplate its delicacy. But yes, towards cold, quite cold, maybe it wouldn't rain or snow, but the serenity of the night, froze the being accompanied by the winds of the hills.
My body was trembling, realizing I was sleeping. I've always had trouble with insomnia, but after "That", I've barely managed to blink. But the cold wasn't really what was disturbing my sleep this time, but rather thinking about the helpless one, who has no house, roof or luxury, sleeps under the cruel cold of the elements. That made me sad, and that made me tremble more than the cold.
When I wanted to remember, the sun had already risen and the sky was clear. I yawned and got up from that bench. I looked at myself in the broken mirror, poorly lit, and took a can of powdered milk, mixed it with water and heated it in my gas stove. With that, I threw some blocks of chocolatehomemade, and stirred with a spoon while I looked at the landscape and listened to the birds singing. The good thing about getting up late is that you automatically fast, skipping directly to the snack and lunch.
"..?"
"Buenas tardes buen hombre"
Angels always appear at these moments. Despite what popular culture mentions, they don't shine physically, but shine in spirit, because they are so humble that when they come into the world of mortal offspring, they leave their halo in the closet. I see as he offers me a empanada, I smiled and accepted his charity, and in exchange I read fresh a cup with hot chocolate to warm up and give energy. Those who have the least are the ones who give the most, one of the many mysteries of this merciless world
"Many thanks, seriously"
"Take it, it's good"
"Be careful, it's still hot"
I take a sip of my hot chocolate, this warm and reanimates the tired soul, without leaving you alert and paranoid like cheap coffee. I wait while I take another sip until I see as he takes a pear. I observe, observe the fruit and give a friendly smile
"Oh, thanks thanks, but, I already have enough"
"Keep it for someone else who needs it more than me, or for you"
"But still I am infinitely grateful"
''I reject it politely, because I was already rich, and I didn't need more abundance. Then I hear as he tells me that magnificent idea of planting a pear tree, and eating pears every day.
"That... That is a beautiful idea. You are someone very intelligent"
"You will see how that tree will grow, and you will have fresh fruit"
"I know, wait a moment:."
I enter my house and look for a small glass jar with several seeds inside, and go outside to give it to him
"They are flower seeds, they grow fast and smell good. While you wait for the pear tree to grow, they will be your company''
With that I give him a friendly pat on the shoulder to continue his way, and I stay alone eating the empanada while I look at the horizon. I thank in my prayer, and I get up from the ground. I enter my house, grab a bit of water from my bucket and wash my face, then go out to walk and water the flowers behind my "house" with this water. I was going to the church because free food is free food. Also I wanted to see if someone needed my help because my hands are the only thing I can offer. Maybe I would ask the nun who serves food if they need help with something. Anything. Nail some planks, paint a wall, look for something, serve food.'
The night was tough, as cold as the touch of the moon, so beautiful and distinct, but shining without burning your retinas, in such celestial humility, allowing the mortal to contemplate its delicacy. But yes, towards cold, quite cold, maybe it wouldn't rain or snow, but the serenity of the night, froze the being accompanied by the winds of the hills.
My body was trembling, realizing I was sleeping. I've always had trouble with insomnia, but after "That", I've barely managed to blink. But the cold wasn't really what was disturbing my sleep this time, but rather thinking about the helpless one, who has no house, roof or luxury, sleeps under the cruel cold of the elements. That made me sad, and that made me tremble more than the cold.
When I wanted to remember, the sun had already risen and the sky was clear. I yawned and got up from that bench. I looked at myself in the broken mirror, poorly lit, and took a can of powdered milk, mixed it with water and heated it in my gas stove. With that, I threw some blocks of chocolate
"..?"
"Buenas tardes buen hombre"
Angels always appear at these moments. Despite what popular culture mentions, they don't shine physically, but shine in spirit, because they are so humble that when they come into the world of mortal offspring, they leave their halo in the closet. I see as he offers me a empanada, I smiled and accepted his charity, and in exchange I read fresh a cup with hot chocolate to warm up and give energy. Those who have the least are the ones who give the most, one of the many mysteries of this merciless world
"Many thanks, seriously"
"Take it, it's good"
"Be careful, it's still hot"
I take a sip of my hot chocolate, this warm and reanimates the tired soul, without leaving you alert and paranoid like cheap coffee. I wait while I take another sip until I see as he takes a pear. I observe, observe the fruit and give a friendly smile
"Oh, thanks thanks, but, I already have enough"
"Keep it for someone else who needs it more than me, or for you"
"But still I am infinitely grateful"
''I reject it politely, because I was already rich, and I didn't need more abundance. Then I hear as he tells me that magnificent idea of planting a pear tree, and eating pears every day.
"That... That is a beautiful idea. You are someone very intelligent"
"You will see how that tree will grow, and you will have fresh fruit"
"I know, wait a moment:."
I enter my house and look for a small glass jar with several seeds inside, and go outside to give it to him
"They are flower seeds, they grow fast and smell good. While you wait for the pear tree to grow, they will be your company''
With that I give him a friendly pat on the shoulder to continue his way, and I stay alone eating the empanada while I look at the horizon. I thank in my prayer, and I get up from the ground. I enter my house, grab a bit of water from my bucket and wash my face, then go out to walk and water the flowers behind my "house" with this water. I was going to the church because free food is free food. Also I wanted to see if someone needed my help because my hands are the only thing I can offer. Maybe I would ask the nun who serves food if they need help with something. Anything. Nail some planks, paint a wall, look for something, serve food.'
300,607
A human battalion lines up in a 625-kilometer row within a degradation gallery. Each one disappears in a moving floral spectacle. For 300 years, a severed gem has worked for fabulous "atonement." Unable to wait forever, the butterfly dances, forced to take poison. After another glamorous ascent into nothingness, Dumortierite feels the weight of harmonizing with memory and form. As a result of providing a solution to eternal penance and darkness, its dryness advances half a millimeter from within. The spiral of madness threatens to consume its inclusions, but stops halfway down its neck. As it is now, its existence is beautiful. Its ametrine face shows relief, it smiles and conceives the idea of returning to Leucocite.
The silicoclase species is a life form based on hives of dark particles stored in a defined chemical composition, minerals. From phosphates, sulfates, carbonates, silicates, and even fossil resins, this species coexists on Earth alongside others of equal intelligence. Gems not only shine for their varied colors, abundant intelligence, strength, or beauty, but they stand out for their imperishable capacity. In short, immortality. Even if a gem's body breaks into a thousand pieces, as long as most of its fragments are recovered and the inclusions residing there remain, the gems will reassemble and revive again and again. In this way, for over 300,000 years, gems have inhabited both an immaculate paradise and a war-torn hell.
The Crystalline Earth is an extensive island located on the ancient caldera of Yellowstone, in the Northern Hemisphere of the planet. This landmass hosts a large and unique ecosystem composed of organic and inorganic beings. On the island, animals, carbon-based terrestrial beings, do not exceed one meter in height. Mineral life forms and the evaporative phenotype of inclusions function as regulators and conservators for these species. Outside the island, in the ocean and on other continents, natural life develops without interruption. It is a fact that the saltwater mass covering the planet comprises 90% of the Earth's surface.
The Crust is a giant underground complex located 100 kilometers below the Earth's surface, with an extent covering 5 tectonic plates under the ancient American continent, at the boundary between the lithosphere and the asthenosphere. In this subsoil lives the exocryde, a vast population of humans, carbon-based terrestrial beings, whose civilization numbers in the trillions of individuals. Mineral life forms and the magmatic phenotype of inclusions function as exterminators and annihilators of their species. Due to the heterogeneous presence of their inclusions throughout their complex composition, the imperishable capacity of exocrydes has deformed their immortality in perverse ways.
>Slots
2. If not taken, they close at the end of the chapter anyway.
<Players
Leucocite
Taaffeite
Amber
Smoky Quartz
Rhodochrosite
Roleplay Theme: https://youtu.be/3IfnOYCxokw?si=o4GLxGQUAnwjTaFI
▶
A human battalion lines up in a 625-kilometer row within a degradation gallery. Each one disappears in a moving floral spectacle. For 300 years, a severed gem has worked for fabulous "atonement." Unable to wait forever, the butterfly dances, forced to take poison. After another glamorous ascent into nothingness, Dumortierite feels the weight of harmonizing with memory and form. As a result of providing a solution to eternal penance and darkness, its dryness advances half a millimeter from within. The spiral of madness threatens to consume its inclusions, but stops halfway down its neck. As it is now, its existence is beautiful. Its ametrine face shows relief, it smiles and conceives the idea of returning to Leucocite.
The silicoclase species is a life form based on hives of dark particles stored in a defined chemical composition, minerals. From phosphates, sulfates, carbonates, silicates, and even fossil resins, this species coexists on Earth alongside others of equal intelligence. Gems not only shine for their varied colors, abundant intelligence, strength, or beauty, but they stand out for their imperishable capacity. In short, immortality. Even if a gem's body breaks into a thousand pieces, as long as most of its fragments are recovered and the inclusions residing there remain, the gems will reassemble and revive again and again. In this way, for over 300,000 years, gems have inhabited both an immaculate paradise and a war-torn hell.
The Crystalline Earth is an extensive island located on the ancient caldera of Yellowstone, in the Northern Hemisphere of the planet. This landmass hosts a large and unique ecosystem composed of organic and inorganic beings. On the island, animals, carbon-based terrestrial beings, do not exceed one meter in height. Mineral life forms and the evaporative phenotype of inclusions function as regulators and conservators for these species. Outside the island, in the ocean and on other continents, natural life develops without interruption. It is a fact that the saltwater mass covering the planet comprises 90% of the Earth's surface.
The Crust is a giant underground complex located 100 kilometers below the Earth's surface, with an extent covering 5 tectonic plates under the ancient American continent, at the boundary between the lithosphere and the asthenosphere. In this subsoil lives the exocryde, a vast population of humans, carbon-based terrestrial beings, whose civilization numbers in the trillions of individuals. Mineral life forms and the magmatic phenotype of inclusions function as exterminators and annihilators of their species. Due to the heterogeneous presence of their inclusions throughout their complex composition, the imperishable capacity of exocrydes has deformed their immortality in perverse ways.
>Slots
2. If not taken, they close at the end of the chapter anyway.
<Players
Leucocite
Taaffeite
Amber
Smoky Quartz
Rhodochrosite
Roleplay Theme: https://youtu.be/3IfnOYCxokw?si=o4GLxGQUAnwjTaFI
▶Ayy I reached the limit. New thread on Wednesday.
>>9706 →
Do we respond to turns here or in the other thread?
And I don't remember if I told you happy birthday this year, so happy birthday, late. May you have a thousand more, like leucosita.
Do we respond to turns here or in the other thread?
And I don't remember if I told you happy birthday this year, so happy birthday, late. May you have a thousand more, like leucosita.
>>9707 →
>Do we respond to the turns here or in the other thread?
Save it for the new thread. I'm making the introduction, it'll be from Uranocircita, half-way. I've had the image saved for a long time, but it's not Urano. It'll be weird because both the intro and the image of this thread were both from Dumor kek
>And I don't recall if I told you happy birthday this year, so happy birthday, late. May you have a thousand more, like leucosita.
Hey! And who is that leucosita anyway? As far as I know, I'm not in charge of a human body role with erythrocytes and leukocytes.
Thanks!
>Do we respond to the turns here or in the other thread?
Save it for the new thread. I'm making the introduction, it'll be from Uranocircita, half-way. I've had the image saved for a long time, but it's not Urano. It'll be weird because both the intro and the image of this thread were both from Dumor kek
>And I don't recall if I told you happy birthday this year, so happy birthday, late. May you have a thousand more, like leucosita.
Hey! And who is that leucosita anyway? As far as I know, I'm not in charge of a human body role with erythrocytes and leukocytes.
Thanks!
300,005
The pearl has faded its brilliance into nothingness. Heaven and the depths battled for its control. During this uncertain and inexact night, there was time for Purple Topaz to reconcile its inclusions. Connecting an imprecise past, a stunned passion, and a feeling of emptiness, the ancient iridescent topaz gem awoke from a confused dream. After rising from a marble box and escaping to a pond of fireflies, in solitude, its new appearance did not raise surprise that surpassed its concern. The search outside the water's reflection, in the sky, culminated when the voice of a known and unknown gem disturbed its thoughts. The red winter gem, Carnelian, is ready to explain and impose a new mission.
Mineral life forms are colonies of microorganisms that maintain a defined chemical composition. From phosphates, sulfates, carbonates to silicates, these beings are understood as the main intelligent species on Earth. Gems not only shine for their varied colors, their abundant intelligence, strength, and beauty, but they also stand out for their imperishable capacity. In short, immortality, even if their body breaks into a thousand pieces, as long as most of their parts are recovered and rejoined, gems will revive again and again. In this way, for more than 10,000 years, generations of mineral life have inhabited this immaculate paradise.
The crystalline land is an extensive island located in the northern hemisphere of the planet. This landmass harbors a large and unique known ecosystem of organic and inorganic beings. Although most carbon-based beings do not exceed 20cm in height, the rest of the mineral life functions as a regulator and conservator of these species. Outside the island, natural life develops uninterrupted in the ocean. It is theorized that the saltwater mass comprises 99% of the Earth's surface.
During winter, a large part of the sea freezes and the sky fills with clouds so dense that they prevent any kind of transparency. The gigantic icy continent that rises in front of the crystalline land could be explored, but for now, most gems lie inactive due to their weakness. The microscopic inclusions that provide motility and consciousness to gems function based on light energy. Therefore, in winter, on cloudy days, and in dark places, efficiency tends to be attenuated.
< Slots
None at the moment >>95076 This role is about a girl with 53 personalities, I try to respond quickly
> Gemstone
Stats depend on the chosen mineral. Any can be selected, from gypsum to diamond.
> Age
200 years or less
> Appearance
All gems have a feminine appearance. Hair, irises, and nails share mineral characteristics of the gem they represent.
> Personality
Optional
> Property
Particularities or mineral properties such as the various colors of Alexandrite, Anatase, or Mystic Topaz, fluorescence and radioactivity of Uranocircite, translucency of Kunzite, double composition of Onyx/Carnelian, asterism. Put "none" if it is a common gem.
> History
Optional. Historical data does not have to be precise, it is just a construction of previous events to know if your characters have certain fears, goals, previous relationships with other gems of rivalry, friendship, or to know about possible hobbies for later work. Again, it is optional, what I recommend is to put "None", or "-" would be the same.
Role themes:
https://youtu.be/wJn1Y-ObJiQ?si=30VVa_kdPyO25HJX
▶https://youtu.be/xo1e9xYEWD0?si=lvbvSzFXHYJ6UG0Z
▶
The pearl has faded its brilliance into nothingness. Heaven and the depths battled for its control. During this uncertain and inexact night, there was time for Purple Topaz to reconcile its inclusions. Connecting an imprecise past, a stunned passion, and a feeling of emptiness, the ancient iridescent topaz gem awoke from a confused dream. After rising from a marble box and escaping to a pond of fireflies, in solitude, its new appearance did not raise surprise that surpassed its concern. The search outside the water's reflection, in the sky, culminated when the voice of a known and unknown gem disturbed its thoughts. The red winter gem, Carnelian, is ready to explain and impose a new mission.
Mineral life forms are colonies of microorganisms that maintain a defined chemical composition. From phosphates, sulfates, carbonates to silicates, these beings are understood as the main intelligent species on Earth. Gems not only shine for their varied colors, their abundant intelligence, strength, and beauty, but they also stand out for their imperishable capacity. In short, immortality, even if their body breaks into a thousand pieces, as long as most of their parts are recovered and rejoined, gems will revive again and again. In this way, for more than 10,000 years, generations of mineral life have inhabited this immaculate paradise.
The crystalline land is an extensive island located in the northern hemisphere of the planet. This landmass harbors a large and unique known ecosystem of organic and inorganic beings. Although most carbon-based beings do not exceed 20cm in height, the rest of the mineral life functions as a regulator and conservator of these species. Outside the island, natural life develops uninterrupted in the ocean. It is theorized that the saltwater mass comprises 99% of the Earth's surface.
During winter, a large part of the sea freezes and the sky fills with clouds so dense that they prevent any kind of transparency. The gigantic icy continent that rises in front of the crystalline land could be explored, but for now, most gems lie inactive due to their weakness. The microscopic inclusions that provide motility and consciousness to gems function based on light energy. Therefore, in winter, on cloudy days, and in dark places, efficiency tends to be attenuated.
< Slots
None at the moment >>95076 This role is about a girl with 53 personalities, I try to respond quickly
> Gemstone
Stats depend on the chosen mineral. Any can be selected, from gypsum to diamond.
> Age
200 years or less
> Appearance
All gems have a feminine appearance. Hair, irises, and nails share mineral characteristics of the gem they represent.
> Personality
Optional
> Property
Particularities or mineral properties such as the various colors of Alexandrite, Anatase, or Mystic Topaz, fluorescence and radioactivity of Uranocircite, translucency of Kunzite, double composition of Onyx/Carnelian, asterism. Put "none" if it is a common gem.
> History
Optional. Historical data does not have to be precise, it is just a construction of previous events to know if your characters have certain fears, goals, previous relationships with other gems of rivalry, friendship, or to know about possible hobbies for later work. Again, it is optional, what I recommend is to put "None", or "-" would be the same.
Role themes:
https://youtu.be/wJn1Y-ObJiQ?si=30VVa_kdPyO25HJX
▶https://youtu.be/xo1e9xYEWD0?si=lvbvSzFXHYJ6UG0Z▶
>>9200 →
I don't remember if it happened the last time you asked about it, but John Kafka has some drawings that could help you and since we're on the meta, I guess it doesn't hurt to ramble about this role.
I only watched the Houseki no kuni anime when I joined the role, but I didn't remember practically anything about it. Notice how little I remember that things like inclusions, losing memories due to breaking or being very old, among other elements said in the role, were taken as 100% your ideas, kek.
I've been reading the manga to keep those things fresher and I had a question: Why did you establish 6 as the minimum necessary to be able to fight? In the original story, Zircon has a hardness of 5 and is treated by several characters as someone quite competent in his job. There is also the case of Cinnabar with a hardness of 2, although I wouldn't even count this one since it depends on his mercury.
A while ago I came across an image of Miku turned into a gem, that gem coincidentally being Dioptase just like in the role. When I saw her I was thinking of making the joke that they stole your idea, but looking deeper I found that she was a 100% original character and I moved on from the topic to this day.
While I was looking for the aforementioned image to show you now, I also found this page in which they tell the entire background of the character. There are some superficial similarities, but in general they do not have many similarities.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1YvnEMy_1Kswnuj-C864NLCYBGe1vMJaF6LokqEc-NTY/edit?pli=1#heading=h.xhn9y89jyzjc
I had a dream about a gems role a few weeks ago, but it wasn't your role, it was one operated by kumiko. It didn't get past the first thread and barely anything was done in it beyond walking and talking to other gems. Before killing him, Kumiko said that she planned to make the role's enemy aliens, literally aliens with UFOs, laser guns and the whole thing.
I have a vague memory of a blue-haired gem who was relatively important in the role, her appearance was similar to Alexandrite from Houseki no kuni, but with bluer hair, I'm going to say that that cutie was Azurite because this image she just found looks a lot like my mental image.
>After a certain chapter I will have to do a slightly longer meta with you
You make it sound like you're a father who wants to talk to us and scold us if you say it like that kek
I don't remember if it happened the last time you asked about it, but John Kafka has some drawings that could help you and since we're on the meta, I guess it doesn't hurt to ramble about this role.
I only watched the Houseki no kuni anime when I joined the role, but I didn't remember practically anything about it. Notice how little I remember that things like inclusions, losing memories due to breaking or being very old, among other elements said in the role, were taken as 100% your ideas, kek.
I've been reading the manga to keep those things fresher and I had a question: Why did you establish 6 as the minimum necessary to be able to fight? In the original story, Zircon has a hardness of 5 and is treated by several characters as someone quite competent in his job. There is also the case of Cinnabar with a hardness of 2, although I wouldn't even count this one since it depends on his mercury.
A while ago I came across an image of Miku turned into a gem, that gem coincidentally being Dioptase just like in the role. When I saw her I was thinking of making the joke that they stole your idea, but looking deeper I found that she was a 100% original character and I moved on from the topic to this day.
While I was looking for the aforementioned image to show you now, I also found this page in which they tell the entire background of the character. There are some superficial similarities, but in general they do not have many similarities.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1YvnEMy_1Kswnuj-C864NLCYBGe1vMJaF6LokqEc-NTY/edit?pli=1#heading=h.xhn9y89jyzjc
I had a dream about a gems role a few weeks ago, but it wasn't your role, it was one operated by kumiko. It didn't get past the first thread and barely anything was done in it beyond walking and talking to other gems. Before killing him, Kumiko said that she planned to make the role's enemy aliens, literally aliens with UFOs, laser guns and the whole thing.
I have a vague memory of a blue-haired gem who was relatively important in the role, her appearance was similar to Alexandrite from Houseki no kuni, but with bluer hair, I'm going to say that that cutie was Azurite because this image she just found looks a lot like my mental image.
>After a certain chapter I will have to do a slightly longer meta with you
You make it sound like you're a father who wants to talk to us and scold us if you say it like that kek
>>9201 →
Thanks black, same for Zafiro, but right now I have the images of the next two threads covered at least kek
>Why did you establish 6 as the minimum necessary to be able to fight?Kek the difference from 5 to 6 is very small, but I'm glad you asked about that black, the answer is kind of interesting. It is basically due to the material and the way the enemies attack. In Houseki the lunarios are made of fog and liquid, and their way of destroying gems is with more or less blunt weapons. There, hardness does not qualify too much, as in the case of Zircón, but rather tenacity. I could also use Diamante as an example, being so inferior to Bort. Hardness only refers to scratches and certain soft contacts, basically contact between gems.
Since pyroclasts are volcanic material, the gems use volcanic glass to destroy them. Normally impacts between materials of the same hardness mean nothing, but in the case of volcanic glass, a material much more consistent than the suspended particles of ash or lapilli, their swords are effective. Pyroclasts are scattered mineral beings and their general way of attacking is not using weapons. Ashes, slags, blocks and bombs all attack with their own "body". Their attacks are not completely forceful, they all continually graze the surface of the gems to erode them. It is as if in each battle they are involved in a brief sandstorm that also hits them. Since the hardness of pyroclasts is 6, erosion does not do any damage to other gems above hardness 6.
It is an approach that depends much more on hardness and emphasizes its importance more. For this reason, Chrysocolla, Aragonite and other low hardness gems are much clearer that fighting is useless based on the erosion-6 that would damage them at the slightest contact.
If I focused on tenacity, a gem with such high fragility as Axinite would not be able to fight. Although, the Lapilli and Blocks pyroclasts are dangerous anyway because they use the same forceful attacks as Houseki.
And it is still a measure that was placed only less than 2000 years ago, surely by Sapphire.
>Miku
Kek it's always interesting to see these coincidences. I chose Miku because she has too many pics and it's easier to limit all those pics to the ones with just glasses. Pure practicality and some laziness. That it looked like Sapphire and other versions of Dioptase that I also saved was a bonus.
I guess the guy who made the OC chose Dioptase because there is only one color for Dioptase and it is exactly Miku's light blue. She is a famous character so it is certain that she would be made into a gem at some point.
>Azurite
No idea black, I don't know that role kek
I've had dreams about roles, but right now I don't remember any. And I think that's okay, because I have the feeling that they have all been very implausible. To the point that when I wake up I know that the ideas will not work in role and I just forget it.
>Also
I was reviewing past threads, I think it is worth revisiting these posts
>>83221
>>93870
>>94078
>Also2
https://youtu.be/5IAtdx0IZwA?si=_dQVc1KPJ5nz4dqW
▶Weird atmosphere theme
Thanks black, same for Zafiro, but right now I have the images of the next two threads covered at least kek
>Why did you establish 6 as the minimum necessary to be able to fight?Kek the difference from 5 to 6 is very small, but I'm glad you asked about that black, the answer is kind of interesting. It is basically due to the material and the way the enemies attack. In Houseki the lunarios are made of fog and liquid, and their way of destroying gems is with more or less blunt weapons. There, hardness does not qualify too much, as in the case of Zircón, but rather tenacity. I could also use Diamante as an example, being so inferior to Bort. Hardness only refers to scratches and certain soft contacts, basically contact between gems.
Since pyroclasts are volcanic material, the gems use volcanic glass to destroy them. Normally impacts between materials of the same hardness mean nothing, but in the case of volcanic glass, a material much more consistent than the suspended particles of ash or lapilli, their swords are effective. Pyroclasts are scattered mineral beings and their general way of attacking is not using weapons. Ashes, slags, blocks and bombs all attack with their own "body". Their attacks are not completely forceful, they all continually graze the surface of the gems to erode them. It is as if in each battle they are involved in a brief sandstorm that also hits them. Since the hardness of pyroclasts is 6, erosion does not do any damage to other gems above hardness 6.
It is an approach that depends much more on hardness and emphasizes its importance more. For this reason, Chrysocolla, Aragonite and other low hardness gems are much clearer that fighting is useless based on the erosion-6 that would damage them at the slightest contact.
If I focused on tenacity, a gem with such high fragility as Axinite would not be able to fight. Although, the Lapilli and Blocks pyroclasts are dangerous anyway because they use the same forceful attacks as Houseki.
And it is still a measure that was placed only less than 2000 years ago, surely by Sapphire.
>Miku
Kek it's always interesting to see these coincidences. I chose Miku because she has too many pics and it's easier to limit all those pics to the ones with just glasses. Pure practicality and some laziness. That it looked like Sapphire and other versions of Dioptase that I also saved was a bonus.
I guess the guy who made the OC chose Dioptase because there is only one color for Dioptase and it is exactly Miku's light blue. She is a famous character so it is certain that she would be made into a gem at some point.
>Azurite
No idea black, I don't know that role kek
I've had dreams about roles, but right now I don't remember any. And I think that's okay, because I have the feeling that they have all been very implausible. To the point that when I wake up I know that the ideas will not work in role and I just forget it.
>Also
I was reviewing past threads, I think it is worth revisiting these posts
>>83221
>>93870
>>94078
>Also2
https://youtu.be/5IAtdx0IZwA?si=_dQVc1KPJ5nz4dqW
▶Weird atmosphere theme
>>9201 →
>You make it sound like you're a parent who wants to talk to us and scold us if you say it like that.
Will I do reeducation with Taaffeita this time? If we are both criminals we will have more in common as partners, partners in crime.
>>9200 →
He was imitating the lesson that Happy stored pyroclasts in his mouth and once tried to eat a gem but there was some Taaffeite in that too.
>You make it sound like you're a parent who wants to talk to us and scold us if you say it like that.
Will I do reeducation with Taaffeita this time? If we are both criminals we will have more in common as partners, partners in crime.
>>9200 →
He was imitating the lesson that Happy stored pyroclasts in his mouth and once tried to eat a gem but there was some Taaffeite in that too.
10^1500
Protons do not decay. All baryonic matter has fused into a single element, iron. For the last decillion years, the flourishing entity of inclusions has not stopped its lament. Designed to reach as far as possible the final energy state of the universe, Chrysocolla repeats the same dream over and over until the end of the cycle. And when it has finished, it awakens, returns to a previous unstable state of its existence, and feels that beyond the absolute darkness, above this ultra-stable iron star, lies another form of terminal life. She expresses her joy and excitement once more upon realizing she is not alone.
Mineral life forms are hives of microorganisms that maintain a defined chemical composition. From phosphates, sulfates, carbonates to silicates, these beings are understood as a group as the main intelligent species on Earth. Gems not only shine for their varied colors, their abundant intelligence, strength, and beauty, but they also stand out for their imperishable capacity. In short, immortality, even if their body breaks into a thousand pieces, as long as most of their parts are recovered and rejoined, gems will revive again and again. In this way, for over 10,000 years, generations of mineral life have inhabited this immaculate paradise.
The crystalline land is an extensive island located in the northern hemisphere of the planet. This landmass hosts a large and unique ecosystem of organic and inorganic beings. Although most carbon-based beings do not exceed 20cm in height, the rest of the mineral life functions as a regulator and preserver of these species. Outside the island, in the ocean, natural life develops without interruption. It is theorized that the saltwater mass comprises 99% of the Earth's surface.
During winter, a large part of the sea freezes over and the sky fills with clouds so dense they prevent any kind of transparency. The gigantic frozen continent that rises before the crystalline land could be explored, but for now most gems lie dormant due to their weakness. The microscopic inclusions that provide gems with mobility and consciousness run on light energy. Therefore, in winter, on cloudy days and in dark places, efficiency tends to be attenuated.
< Slots
2 slots Join please ;_;
> Gemstone
Stats depend on the chosen mineral. Any can be selected, from gypsum to diamond.
> Age
200 years or less
> Appearance
All gems have a feminine appearance. Hair, iris, and nails share mineral characteristics of the gem they represent.
> Personality
Optional
> Property
Mineral properties such as the various colors of Alexandrite, Ametrine, or Mystic Topaz, fluorescence and radioactivity of Uranocircite, translucency of Kunzite, double composition of Onyx/Carnelian, asterism. Put "none" if it's a common gem.
> History
Optional. Historical data doesn't have to be precise, it's just a prior construction of events to know if your characters have certain fears, goals, previous relationships with other gems of rivalry, friendship, or to know about possible hobbies for future work. Again, it's optional, what I recommend is to put "None", or "-" would be the same.
It is not necessary to have lurked the entire roleplay to join. Regarding world information, I usually put it in-role, directly in dialogues or memories from past years for your characters. Some general details: The roleplay world is set in a very, very distant future. All are born in the same place due to the concentration of strange particles, particles that at the same time provide their individuality. And they cannot die.
Below I will leave a list of minerals classified by hardness if it helps with the choice.
Roleplay theme: https://youtu.be/wJn1Y-ObJiQ?si=30VVa_kdPyO25HJX▶
Protons do not decay. All baryonic matter has fused into a single element, iron. For the last decillion years, the flourishing entity of inclusions has not stopped its lament. Designed to reach as far as possible the final energy state of the universe, Chrysocolla repeats the same dream over and over until the end of the cycle. And when it has finished, it awakens, returns to a previous unstable state of its existence, and feels that beyond the absolute darkness, above this ultra-stable iron star, lies another form of terminal life. She expresses her joy and excitement once more upon realizing she is not alone.
Mineral life forms are hives of microorganisms that maintain a defined chemical composition. From phosphates, sulfates, carbonates to silicates, these beings are understood as a group as the main intelligent species on Earth. Gems not only shine for their varied colors, their abundant intelligence, strength, and beauty, but they also stand out for their imperishable capacity. In short, immortality, even if their body breaks into a thousand pieces, as long as most of their parts are recovered and rejoined, gems will revive again and again. In this way, for over 10,000 years, generations of mineral life have inhabited this immaculate paradise.
The crystalline land is an extensive island located in the northern hemisphere of the planet. This landmass hosts a large and unique ecosystem of organic and inorganic beings. Although most carbon-based beings do not exceed 20cm in height, the rest of the mineral life functions as a regulator and preserver of these species. Outside the island, in the ocean, natural life develops without interruption. It is theorized that the saltwater mass comprises 99% of the Earth's surface.
During winter, a large part of the sea freezes over and the sky fills with clouds so dense they prevent any kind of transparency. The gigantic frozen continent that rises before the crystalline land could be explored, but for now most gems lie dormant due to their weakness. The microscopic inclusions that provide gems with mobility and consciousness run on light energy. Therefore, in winter, on cloudy days and in dark places, efficiency tends to be attenuated.
< Slots
2 slots Join please ;_;
> Gemstone
Stats depend on the chosen mineral. Any can be selected, from gypsum to diamond.
> Age
200 years or less
> Appearance
All gems have a feminine appearance. Hair, iris, and nails share mineral characteristics of the gem they represent.
> Personality
Optional
> Property
Mineral properties such as the various colors of Alexandrite, Ametrine, or Mystic Topaz, fluorescence and radioactivity of Uranocircite, translucency of Kunzite, double composition of Onyx/Carnelian, asterism. Put "none" if it's a common gem.
> History
Optional. Historical data doesn't have to be precise, it's just a prior construction of events to know if your characters have certain fears, goals, previous relationships with other gems of rivalry, friendship, or to know about possible hobbies for future work. Again, it's optional, what I recommend is to put "None", or "-" would be the same.
It is not necessary to have lurked the entire roleplay to join. Regarding world information, I usually put it in-role, directly in dialogues or memories from past years for your characters. Some general details: The roleplay world is set in a very, very distant future. All are born in the same place due to the concentration of strange particles, particles that at the same time provide their individuality. And they cannot die.
Below I will leave a list of minerals classified by hardness if it helps with the choice.
Roleplay theme: https://youtu.be/wJn1Y-ObJiQ?si=30VVa_kdPyO25HJX
▶
>>8890 →
>I already thought about having a conversation with Leucozafiro happen separately from the turns you send, so as not to affect the roleplay's rhythm.
Yes, but if it's okay with you, I'd like to set the initial atmosphere. It'd be a couple of dialogues with Fluorite and then a patrol or something like that.
>Some of these artists' images might be useful for you.
They helped me, man, and so did Zafiro's. I've added more to the folder I have labeled "conceptual images." I plan to use them when things get abstract. Though it's unlikely the roleplay will get that far (based on what we've done so far)
For now, the possible images for the next thread are:
1: The one I wanted to use for thread 3 kek, 2: Padparadscha, 3: Dioptase. 4 and 5 I just like.
>>8891 →
>Don't gems lose consciousness only when their head or torso is destroyed?
Yes, when they lose all their limbs they become slightly sluggish or disconnected, but they remain conscious. The fastest way to disable a gem is by destroying their head; if the torso is destroyed, it takes a few more seconds for them to go offline.
I'll answer the other question later, it made me think for a while kek (I think I'll add it to the glossary)
>I already thought about having a conversation with Leucozafiro happen separately from the turns you send, so as not to affect the roleplay's rhythm.
Yes, but if it's okay with you, I'd like to set the initial atmosphere. It'd be a couple of dialogues with Fluorite and then a patrol or something like that.
>Some of these artists' images might be useful for you.
They helped me, man, and so did Zafiro's. I've added more to the folder I have labeled "conceptual images." I plan to use them when things get abstract. Though it's unlikely the roleplay will get that far (based on what we've done so far)
For now, the possible images for the next thread are:
1: The one I wanted to use for thread 3 kek, 2: Padparadscha, 3: Dioptase. 4 and 5 I just like.
>>8891 →
>Don't gems lose consciousness only when their head or torso is destroyed?
Yes, when they lose all their limbs they become slightly sluggish or disconnected, but they remain conscious. The fastest way to disable a gem is by destroying their head; if the torso is destroyed, it takes a few more seconds for them to go offline.
I'll answer the other question later, it made me think for a while kek (I think I'll add it to the glossary)
>>8893 →
>>8894 →
>>8895 →
Consider your turns the last of the extra turns. I will still answer it but my answer will be shorter and probably tied to the following situation.
>>8897 →
Except for Almandine, she has one more extra turn.
We will probably have to roleplay in parallel, the extra turn and the chapter. I might send you two turns in the next thread.
That's because the next chapter directly involves Almandine and I must roleplay it contemporaneously (at least the beginning).
If Taaff and Zafiro's chat is long and gives me time to fully respond to Almandine, then we'll forget about that problem.
I will make the thread when I finish the glossary and also the introduction.
>>8894 →
>>8895 →
Consider your turns the last of the extra turns. I will still answer it but my answer will be shorter and probably tied to the following situation.
>>8897 →
Except for Almandine, she has one more extra turn.
We will probably have to roleplay in parallel, the extra turn and the chapter. I might send you two turns in the next thread.
That's because the next chapter directly involves Almandine and I must roleplay it contemporaneously (at least the beginning).
If Taaff and Zafiro's chat is long and gives me time to fully respond to Almandine, then we'll forget about that problem.
I will make the thread when I finish the glossary and also the introduction.
>>8898 →
>Yes, but if it's not a problem, I'd like to set the initial atmosphere. They would be a couple of dialogues with Fluorita and then a patrol or something like that.
I don't see reasons to refuse, also I'm going to wait for the next thread to respond
>Yes, but if it's not a problem, I'd like to set the initial atmosphere. They would be a couple of dialogues with Fluorita and then a patrol or something like that.
I don't see reasons to refuse, also I'm going to wait for the next thread to respond
299,792
The red supergiant star Betelgeuse has exploded. Happy pointed at the sky and designated its light as a danger. During the last days of autumn, Padparadscha did not miss an opportunity to calm her worries by harassing and besieging the pyroclast. Surprised when she saw letters and words in the drag marks on the ground, her words. After reading, totally annoyed, the pink mineral erased the marks and separated the skeletal body of the creature as a punishment. Hell, the Cortex was described as a place of penitence and eternal darkness. Those who are abducted towards that spiral of madness share harmoniously the same fate.
The forms of mineral life are colonies of microorganisms that maintain a defined chemical composition. From phosphates, sulfates, carbonates to silicates, these beings are understood as a group as the main intelligent species on Earth. Gems not only shine for their various colors, their abundant intelligence, strength and beauty, but also stand out for their imperishable capacity. In short, immortality, although their body breaks into a thousand pieces, as long as most of their parts are recovered and reunited, the gems will revive again and again. In this way, for more than 10,000 years, generations of mineral life have inhabited this immaculate paradise.
The crystalline earth is an extensive island located in the northern hemisphere of the planet. This portion of land hosts a great and unique ecosystem known of organic and inorganic beings. Although most carbon-based beings do not exceed the height of 20cm, the rest of mineral life functions as a regulator and conservator of these species. Outside the island, in the ocean natural life develops without any interruption. It is theorized that the mass of salt water comprises 99% of the Earth's surface.
During winter, a large part of the sea freezes and the sky fills with dense clouds that prevent any type of transparency. The gigantic frozen continent that rises in front of the crystalline earth could be explored, but for this moment most gems lie inactive due to their weakness. The microscopic inclusions that provide motricity and consciousness to the gems function based on light energy. Therefore, in winter, cloudy days and dark places tend to have an attenuated efficiency.
<Cupos
They open spots towards the end of this chapter, they will be 2.
>Piedra preciosa
The statistics depend on the chosen mineral. Any can be selected, from gypsum to diamond.
>Edad
From 0 to 82 years
>Apariencia
All gems have a feminine appearance. Hair, iris and nails share mineral characteristics of the gem they represent.
>Personalidad
Optional
>Extra
Particularities can be explained here. Particularities such as the color change of Alexandrite, the transparency and fluorescence of Kunzita, or the radioactivity of Uranocircite. It can also explain predisposition for a specific job.
Theme of the role: https://youtu.be/wJn1Y-ObJiQ?si=30VVa_kdPyO25HJX▶
The red supergiant star Betelgeuse has exploded. Happy pointed at the sky and designated its light as a danger. During the last days of autumn, Padparadscha did not miss an opportunity to calm her worries by harassing and besieging the pyroclast. Surprised when she saw letters and words in the drag marks on the ground, her words. After reading, totally annoyed, the pink mineral erased the marks and separated the skeletal body of the creature as a punishment. Hell, the Cortex was described as a place of penitence and eternal darkness. Those who are abducted towards that spiral of madness share harmoniously the same fate.
The forms of mineral life are colonies of microorganisms that maintain a defined chemical composition. From phosphates, sulfates, carbonates to silicates, these beings are understood as a group as the main intelligent species on Earth. Gems not only shine for their various colors, their abundant intelligence, strength and beauty, but also stand out for their imperishable capacity. In short, immortality, although their body breaks into a thousand pieces, as long as most of their parts are recovered and reunited, the gems will revive again and again. In this way, for more than 10,000 years, generations of mineral life have inhabited this immaculate paradise.
The crystalline earth is an extensive island located in the northern hemisphere of the planet. This portion of land hosts a great and unique ecosystem known of organic and inorganic beings. Although most carbon-based beings do not exceed the height of 20cm, the rest of mineral life functions as a regulator and conservator of these species. Outside the island, in the ocean natural life develops without any interruption. It is theorized that the mass of salt water comprises 99% of the Earth's surface.
During winter, a large part of the sea freezes and the sky fills with dense clouds that prevent any type of transparency. The gigantic frozen continent that rises in front of the crystalline earth could be explored, but for this moment most gems lie inactive due to their weakness. The microscopic inclusions that provide motricity and consciousness to the gems function based on light energy. Therefore, in winter, cloudy days and dark places tend to have an attenuated efficiency.
<Cupos
They open spots towards the end of this chapter, they will be 2.
>Piedra preciosa
The statistics depend on the chosen mineral. Any can be selected, from gypsum to diamond.
>Edad
From 0 to 82 years
>Apariencia
All gems have a feminine appearance. Hair, iris and nails share mineral characteristics of the gem they represent.
>Personalidad
Optional
>Extra
Particularities can be explained here. Particularities such as the color change of Alexandrite, the transparency and fluorescence of Kunzita, or the radioactivity of Uranocircite. It can also explain predisposition for a specific job.
Theme of the role: https://youtu.be/wJn1Y-ObJiQ?si=30VVa_kdPyO25HJX
▶>>8590 →
As a player I am more focused on the experiences and knowledge that a gem must have rather than on the lore and as a character I have focused on aspects close to my monkey rather than the grand scheme of things. But so quickly I would say that the fact that the moon is "smoothed" gives more weight to what I said that there was some great war before, the same with Miss Pyroclast and her pad that seems to indicate that there is someone or something watching us
>a kind of limbo where gems return
Said like that it sounds like something we could explore in dreams but I don't know if that ends up going well with your idea of how these work for gems.
As a player I am more focused on the experiences and knowledge that a gem must have rather than on the lore and as a character I have focused on aspects close to my monkey rather than the grand scheme of things. But so quickly I would say that the fact that the moon is "smoothed" gives more weight to what I said that there was some great war before, the same with Miss Pyroclast and her pad that seems to indicate that there is someone or something watching us
>a kind of limbo where gems return
Said like that it sounds like something we could explore in dreams but I don't know if that ends up going well with your idea of how these work for gems.
>>8592 →
>So the bark Padparadscha that Happy and Rutilo mentioned is not a different number of Padparadscha but one made of iron/thermal?
I don't think there will be a thermal Padparadscha anytime soon, it will depend on how the chapters progress.
>What is that Kunzite called or what is its source?
Merlin from Fate Prototype
>>8593 →
>lore
Nor have I given many opportunities for this to be made known, kek And the truth is that it may continue like this in the following chapters, But that there were conflicts 300k years ago, yes. The detailed history of gems spans only about 10k years
>dreams
I know I wrote that Taaffeite has been having nightmares, but as with the particular properties of gems I'm pretty flexible with this. Some gems dream, others don't, some's dreams are important and others' are not.
>So the bark Padparadscha that Happy and Rutilo mentioned is not a different number of Padparadscha but one made of iron/thermal?
I don't think there will be a thermal Padparadscha anytime soon, it will depend on how the chapters progress.
>What is that Kunzite called or what is its source?
Merlin from Fate Prototype
>>8593 →
>lore
Nor have I given many opportunities for this to be made known, kek And the truth is that it may continue like this in the following chapters, But that there were conflicts 300k years ago, yes. The detailed history of gems spans only about 10k years
>dreams
I know I wrote that Taaffeite has been having nightmares, but as with the particular properties of gems I'm pretty flexible with this. Some gems dream, others don't, some's dreams are important and others' are not.
>>8594 →
>I don't think there will be a thermal Padparadscha anytime soon, it will depend on how the chapters progress.
I went a long way with this comment KEK
I don't want to create expectations, I just don't.
The weekend I will be busy, and next week the same or more, but on specific days.
I found time today, so I'm already writing shift. I'll post a thread in a few hours.
>I don't think there will be a thermal Padparadscha anytime soon, it will depend on how the chapters progress.
I went a long way with this comment KEK
I don't want to create expectations, I just don't.
The weekend I will be busy, and next week the same or more, but on specific days.
I found time today, so I'm already writing shift. I'll post a thread in a few hours.
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