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Author Topic: Derailed (CLOSED RP)  (Read 19834 times)

Sage R.

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Derailed (CLOSED RP)
« on: April 07, 2013, 11:40:40 pm »

I used to say all the time that my memory is roughly as reliable as that of a below-average houseplant, and in some respects, that's true. But it's not entirely accurate; rather, my memory is highly selective, nigh photographic for certain things and might-as-well-have-been-drunk at best for others. I remember that I got the houseplant line, for example, from somewhere else, and that it was originally a comment about intelligence before I latched onto it, but I don't remember what the source was or when I first read it.

I remember countless nightmares, most of them centering around various disappointments--knowing I could fly but never being able to stay in the air, et cetera--but no dreams.

I remember so many Disney quotes, the majority of them not even especially quotable, just complete dialogues, that it annoys the hell out of me (and likely anybody watching with me) that I can't avoid speaking right along with the film. Singing too. Often gesticulating, or pointing out exact movements I've immediately internalized, and being able to recall what each character looks like right down to how their damned eyebrows are positioned while they're saying the first syllable in the phrase "I swim pretty girl," but I can't remember when my bills are due or when my last period was or whether I've cleaned the cat's litterbox in the last five days.

I remember designing dragons, thinking up fantastic creatures, submitting fan characters for Mega Man 6, making drawing instructions one time in 4th grade, scribbling gel pen tattoos for soda money in 7th, eating terrible public school hot pockets while finishing the most recent drawing of a now-scrapped villain called Sarin, but I don't remember why I named Fate, Fate.

I remember seeing her on television a few years ago. I remember thinking it probably wasn't actually her because the armor was the wrong color and entirely too spiky, and then hearing her talk and listening to the reporters freaking out and starting to freak out myself. I don't remember when I decided the best idea was to pack as much crap as I could carry and start hitch-hiking to California, and I don't remember how many times I almost chickened out before I got in the first car.

I remember my first feeling of true, impending death, and responding with a panicked frenzy that, if I hadn't been a rookie and being watched pretty heavily at the time, would have gotten me killed instead of bounced back home. I don't remember what I was fighting at the time or what weapons I was carrying or even really who was with me.

I remember the next time that feeling came over me, as I looked into bright green eyes with spiraling pupils and smelled brimstone and rancid meat and old blood on the demon's breath. I don't remember what he said when we first met.

I remember the briefest little glint of optimism in Hell when Ocelico came there to bargain on my behalf. I remember hating him for a few minutes because he'd only put himself in a horrible situation right along with me. I remember being grateful to him for the same reason. I don't remember how he got them to agree to stop beating on me or how he convinced them to actually heal the damage they'd already inflicted. I don't remember how long we were down there after he arrived.

I remember pride at my first promotion, to junior grade. I remember indignant, stupid, petty rage at being demoted down to second class later. I remember what got me demoted (fondly), but I don't remember when or why they bumped me up in the first place.

I remember killing an orc with an inkpen. On accident. I don't remember why I thought it was a good idea to draw an orc's attention to myself.

I remember getting infected with a nanite colony, agreeing to be infected with a second nanite colony designed to kill the first, having a moment of wait-a-minute before the second nanite colony was placed and then being knocked out so that they could do it anyway, and later on wanging Karina upside the head as hard as I could with a wrench longer than my arm--with her permission, of course; How else would I have managed that?--as a token form of reconciliation for that horrible, horrible idea. I don't remember at what point Karina became involved in the mess, or why I didn't also pummel Tellana, or if maybe I did but I just didn't enjoy doing it to her as much because I actually liked her at the time.

I remember getting trapped in a bag of holding and coming out face-to-face with one of the biggest threats the Guardians had, armed with nothing but my pens, x-acto knife, and starvation-induced rage. I remember damn near winning that fight but Carmine's hands got caught in the mouth of the damn bag instead of him diving clean into it. I don't remember if I ever really apologized to Vidau enough for the horrible crap I said about Lawni at the time. Or if I kicked Carmine in the nads or not.

I remember a pair of boobs with a pleasant face a bit above them called Guardian Angel gently bullying me into writing down a system. I remember writing almost every word of what would become Concordia, and knowing that it wouldn't be what Fate or her then-beau Concord actually needed. I don't remember how Angel convinced me to do it all and I don't remember why I did it in the first place, why I really did it underneath the general desperate need to atone. Maybe I was just afraid of her. That's usually the case with me and people a few orders of magnitude better-in-every-way than me.

I remember almost being killed by that same pair of boobs because I deliberately triggered a failsafe in Fate that rendered her comatose for something like two weeks, just so she'd revert back to a state that I could actually work with and that she'd be more comfortable in once the initial confusion subsided.

I remember trying the Concordia experiment again, knowing what I knew and what Angel didn't know, and using what resources she graciously allowed me in order to create a proper, complete system that contained what Fate remembered as her real home. I don't remember whether it was her idea or mine, but I do know I was absolutely against her using Gaer for a refugee camp the way she'd used Concordia after we decided it failed.

Like Concordia, I remember damned near every single word and picture I put down for Gaer. I remember laboring over Gaer in a way Concordia never evoked from me, I remember being unable to sleep or eat or use the bathroom until I'd gotten down a certain idea for it in a complete, proper setting. I remember all the ideas I'd ever had that since I was nine years old bum rushing my brain trying to be the first to be put on paper and made reality, made into more material for Gaer. I don't remember when I started or when I finished, I don't remember where some of those ideas actually came from, or how I came up with naming conventions or the grammar of the common language or whether some parts had always been in their final format in my head or if they'd only been cemented once I wrote them down.

I remember setting up the computer that would run 'arcs' in Gaer on its own, the same one year over and over again, so that nothing could break the system anymore and nobody had to suffer for the story to continue. I remember the day that computer froze, and then died. I remember nearly killing myself working to get the simulation running on any other machine, and finally removing my ring so I could keep the system running on my own by feeding it new content. I remember that failing, my having to go into the system myself, my capture by Manos Perdix, and the ruination and near complete destruction of Gaer before other Guardians could set me free.

I remember Sarl, Lahar, Talat, Nahm, Arambis, Tarabek, Hrang the Mad, Garnat the Destroyer, Aurora Orichalcum, Noctis Argentum, the Iron Nightmare, the Gold Mystic, Culdach, Rusmach, Yaghro, Meraan, Pontar Warfang, Gurram Sirenspawn, Lokoriam Dredgewing, the Re'hel'ma, Kuremkatak, Dug, Rechak, Ne'tak, blackbellied screamers, helmeted screamers, red screamers, crested blue vultures, blacktip rat dragons, dracorex, diabolus, crested black mourners, crested blue mourners, draco fontis, turpis aduro, grey hookjaws, horned deviltails, purple lynx dragons, painted dragons, mottled griffins, banded wyrms, hooked wyrms and Tembat the Storyteller.

I remember Tembat the Storyteller especially well, as I sit here in the back of a massive longhouse belonging to the griffin confederacy, the Re'hel'ma. I remember him because it's hard to forget someone you're looking at and listening to. I remember how much I hated drawing him because it's so fricking difficult to draw a convincing fat person, I remember using only the very tip of my finger to smudge the pencil lines so the shading would be light and uniform, I remember the stories I wrote him to tell as he wandered the countryside. He still claims to be the inventor of pipesmoking to anybody who'll listen.

I don't remember anything about this story he's telling the assembled hatchlings now, though. Not a word sounds right, not like something I wrote, not the same cadence or vocabulary or sentence structuring. He spreads his hands and his eyes roll skyward as he says the name of the mythical city Arambus-Sha, where the first people of Gaer lived and from which magic was created. This system's Adam and Eve parable, the One Race found, in their search for knowledge, the concepts of war and a lust for immortality. Escalation culminated in simultaneous destruction, as it always does; the One Race ceased to be as schisms and alternate disciplines led them to become entirely separate Tribes.

Toying with the smoke of the bonfire in the middle of the circle, Tembat sadly tells the young griffins how Arambus-Sha cast the Tribes out and took all memory of itself from them. I remember the first time he told me this story, only days after Manos Perdix was finally expelled from Gaer and I'd found myself unable to leave. He doesn't change his routine much, but it's always a crowd-pleaser just the same. I've been finding him in what passes for downtime, to see what else he might say of Arambus-Sha, this place I didn't create in the system of my own making, but he doesn't say anything new, hasn't since the first time I heard it.

I remember trying to investigate the place. The designer of a system in the system is godlike, but as I found out, only godlike within the system rules' ability to comprehend godliness. I still have limits. Omnipotence keeps me from comfortably sleeping unless I take drastic measures, and while I don't need rest, my body still craves it from time to time. Thinking about it, those crashes are probably what withdrawal feels like. I remember that I tried to find Arambus-Sha and couldn't. I'm aware of everything and everywhere at once and at will, but I couldn't find this one city, this mythical place that once existed and, knowing the nature of lost city myths, had to exist somewhere still.

I remember finding the skip in reality, like a stitched piece of fabric breaking up the paisley pattern, where my awareness was suddenly miles away from the place it'd been moments ago. I don't remember actually finding this place. I know that it happened only because I wrote myself notes after, apparently, the third time I tried this.

I remember when Vincent came here, to get away, to heal a broken heart. I remember wanting desperately to help him but even with all the power that Gaer afforded me, I couldn't force him to change the way he needed to. I remember how he seemed more at ease once I'd given him a task, a penance for his perceived sins, and he was 'forced' to help refugees rebuild, or to settle spats and put down riots between humans and dragons. He was my Metatron and he was content, if not happy. It was easier for us both and I admit I got selfish and relaxed too much. I told him one night about Arambus-Sha and how it was troubling me. The next day he'd left my house, and a week later, he was standing at the edge of the skip when I finally found him again, and as soon as I said the word 'stop,' I no longer remembered him, but my notes remember for me.

My notes remember that Vince has completely disappeared from collective memory, like he never existed. Nobody he'd met in his travels remembers anyone like him, and I find myself unable to readily recall him without reading about him first.

My notes remember that Arambus-Sha is real, that Arambus-Sha is here, and that Arambus-Sha is a threat, if only for this one loss, this one unacceptable loss. I agree with my notes. Help me.

((I remember Killfrenzy telling us in Fight Club about this goofy Food Fight thread happening on a webcomic's roleplay forum, and my notes and forum history remember that I officially joined the Guardians in February 2003. It's been a decade, and I think I'm finally ready to give forum RP a shot. If you'd like to get involved, post!))
« Last Edit: June 23, 2015, 08:48:33 pm by Sage R. »
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The Human
The Dragon

I'm chiefly an IRCer, but I dabble in the forums on occasion.

Relapse

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Re: Derailed (Signup Thread. No really!)
« Reply #1 on: April 08, 2013, 01:26:31 am »

(( Interest registered, Cupboard and Relapse ready for deployment ))
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Dathiel

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Re: Derailed (Signup Thread. No really!)
« Reply #2 on: April 08, 2013, 02:41:18 pm »

I'll join with Rhade (or whomever you want me to bring)

Rhiann

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Re: Derailed (Signup Thread. No really!)
« Reply #3 on: April 08, 2013, 06:55:29 pm »

Interest marked. While Rhiann is busy, the other two aren't. Take your pick, if any.
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Rhiann: Priestess of the Web and a powerful Telepath/telekinetic.
Tracker: Bionic fox from an 'alternate' Earth.
Dav: A Worgen (Werewolf) Shaman from the World of Warcraft

Will there be others?

Ashla

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Re: Derailed (Signup Thread. No really!)
« Reply #4 on: April 08, 2013, 07:20:06 pm »

((I'll give it a shot as keith))

Kyle

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Re: Derailed (Signup Thread. No really!)
« Reply #5 on: April 09, 2013, 01:39:58 am »

Interested in joining, most definitely. Mia needs to get out of the library.
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Just because you're blonde and from California doesn't mean you have big breasts and live at the beach ~Mia

Ocelico

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Re: Derailed (Signup Thread. No really!)
« Reply #6 on: April 09, 2013, 01:42:45 am »

(( Oce is absolutely willing to play ))
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Sage R.

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Re: Derailed (Signup Thread. No really!)
« Reply #7 on: April 14, 2013, 04:02:03 am »

Righto, I'm calling signups closed now. I won't guarantee I'll get things started Monday, April 15th (YAY TAX DAY) but I'm shooting for then. Rhiann, I've no preference over your characters, so that call I'll leave up to you.
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The Human
The Dragon

I'm chiefly an IRCer, but I dabble in the forums on occasion.

Rhiann

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Re: Derailed (Signup Thread. No really!)
« Reply #8 on: April 14, 2013, 04:46:56 am »

Well, Daz doesn't have much experience, as yet. So expect the Worgen.
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Rhiann: Priestess of the Web and a powerful Telepath/telekinetic.
Tracker: Bionic fox from an 'alternate' Earth.
Dav: A Worgen (Werewolf) Shaman from the World of Warcraft

Will there be others?

Sage R.

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Re: Derailed (CLOSED RP)
« Reply #9 on: April 16, 2013, 02:56:45 am »

((LET IT BEGIN!!))

Jauntspace, En Route to System

It's been a long trip. The further Gaer drifted from its original position, the longer the ride to reach it, and as of now that time stood at 12 days. On the plus side, the length of the journey meant that the vessel chosen was chosen with comfort at least partially in mind, as opposed to mere economy; It's been cushy (if small) bunks, abundant fruity alcoholic drinks with tiny umbrellas in them, and a comfortable TV lounge (although getting actual programming was nigh impossible, so hey, DVDs) along with the standard reinforced glass and discreetly placed gun turrets along the hull.

Mojitos and movie time are over now, though, and the assembled team has been called to what passes for a briefing room on the relatively small vessel--honestly it's just the TV lounge with the TV off--and a stern-looking fellow in the standard green n' whites places a manila folder in front of each Guardian.

"Before I get to the mission details, let me give you a quick rundown of what's led up to the status quo. A while back GSS Russell went in-system to investigate anomalous behaviors that were destroying every machine or device the system was run on. Turned out a cell of Faustus Easton's little Equality for Villains cult, Manos Perdix*, dropped a ship smack in the middle of Gaer, started arming the human population with heavy assault rifles, and went on a killing spree of every deity in the system. They succeeded in killing all but one, not counting GSS Russell, who was captured almost immediately upon discovering them. The deaths of nearly the entire pantheon destabilized the system badly enough to shake it from its stable point in Jauntspace and it's been drifting ever since, thus our fun little cruise to get there."

"We'll be setting down systemside in roughly sixty minutes, folks. When we're done here, pack up your things and hotfoot it to the airlock, as you'll be jaunting in separate from the rest of us per GSS Russell's instructions. In the provided packets you'll find basic information on the population--ratios, attitudes, slang, so on--and a few suggestions on how to dress, as it were. Your entry point will be roughly two miles north of GSS Russell's base of operations." A wry smile crosses the man's face for a moment. "When you get to the big suburban two-story house in the middle of the forest, you've found the right place. You'll have to be actively trying to get lost, though; she's still omniscient and nosy as ever, so she'll probably be giving directions from the first step you take."

The greenshirt clasps his hands behind his back as he completes his circle of the room, standing in front of the TV to regard the group. "Your objective is, as previously noted, to determine the location and nature of the city Arambus-Sha, deemed anomalous and potentially hostile due to the disappearance of Guardians and systemites alike. The place seems to have a retconning effect, effectively rewriting the system to believe that those missing never existed. For this reason, it is absolutely imperative that at no time do any of you remove or alter the settings on your Conversion Matrices once you're in-system, as we're not yet certain the city wouldn't affect your mental state too."

"You're going to be confined strictly to reconnaissance until GSS Russell deems it necessary to do otherwise, so for the time being I wouldn't go into things itching for a fight unless you're keen on disappointment. I would strongly advise not to bring anything with you that even resembles a firearm in shape, given recent events--the nonhumans do not like guns at all. Those of you with human appearances should consider wearing a different face for the duration of the mission, although it's not mandatory. GSC Calis, that includes you. All anybody else will see is a human with funny ears."

Scratching his chin for a moment, the greenshirt then adds, "If you're absolutely intent on loading for bear, I wouldn't be surprised as there are some big critters down there, but discretion is strongly encouraged in such cases. I stress again that obvious firearms are frowned upon by most of the sentient population. Our ship is equipped with a small fabrication unit, so if you need something you don't already have--and it's approved ahead of time--we can probably assemble it for you." With a brief pause to clear his throat, the greenshirt spreads his hands toward the group and finally says, "That's all I've got for you offhand; GSS Russell will be giving you more specifics once you're on the ground."

"Any questions?"

((The really important tidbits from that packet he mentions are that there are three major categories of sentient: humans, dragons, and griffins. They all come in different flavors but the basic principle--squishy, scaly, furry--is pretty standard. Sentient dragons are known to possess magic, as are Griffins to a more limited extent. Humans are not, but do have a slightly higher tech level than the other two.))
« Last Edit: April 16, 2013, 04:33:46 am by Sage R. »
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The Human
The Dragon

I'm chiefly an IRCer, but I dabble in the forums on occasion.

Rhiann

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Re: Derailed (CLOSED RP)
« Reply #10 on: April 16, 2013, 03:12:28 am »

Dav speaks up almost before the briefer finishes his statement. "What is the possibility that other-System powers will work, for instance my own World of Warcraft Shamanism which is an elemental-based magic? Granted, I'm big, strong and carry an axe and a hammer, but even those work best when I enhance them with elemental energies.

"For that matter, what about my shapeshifting? I know you mentioned that 'furry' is better, but with my rather large size, sometimes 'furry' is not better."


((Note: Apologies, and corrected.))
« Last Edit: April 17, 2013, 03:10:32 am by Rhiann »
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Rhiann: Priestess of the Web and a powerful Telepath/telekinetic.
Tracker: Bionic fox from an 'alternate' Earth.
Dav: A Worgen (Werewolf) Shaman from the World of Warcraft

Will there be others?

Kyle

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Re: Derailed (CLOSED RP)
« Reply #11 on: April 16, 2013, 04:08:03 am »

Mia will wait a moment while questions asked prior to her opening her mouth are answered, and then. "Firearms are frowned upon does that include something like a bow and arrows or a cross-bow? Or just guns and high-tech projectile weaponry?" .oO(Can't say I'm sorry we aren't looking for battle.) The Primarian looks more inclined to carry a book than hold, much less use weapons.


((Recommendation for type of dragon one might pick to blend in better?))
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Just because you're blonde and from California doesn't mean you have big breasts and live at the beach ~Mia

Dathiel

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Re: Derailed (CLOSED RP)
« Reply #12 on: April 16, 2013, 06:39:47 am »

For the entire trip Rhade does his best to cover his nervousness concerning his first ever mission, with enthusiasm and providing other avenues of entertainment. Karaoke aside, when it comes to the briefing Rhade is all ears, and leafs through the pamphlets handed to him.

When told he has to look less like a human the only thing he can really think of is his water soul – which doesn't activate unless he’s submerged in water, but perhaps a simple alteration to the CM will allow him his sea creature appearance outside of water…

.oO(No fighting? Good I’m more of a scout anyways… or a distraction I can be a good distraction.) The only weapons he tended to carry was his book and microphone, even if technology was frowned upon, the microphone could stay hidden until absolutely needed.

“You mentioned other guardians disappearing, how long have they been missing and should we keep an eye out for them?” The usual faux confidence in his voice is gone, and he looks really nervous when asking the question as soon as the green shirt has a spare moment answering other questions.

Other than that his only question is whether his requisition came through or not, and well that’s not something he’d find out until it was time to actually suit up.



((OOC: Sent you a pm about the requisition Sage))

Relapse

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Re: Derailed (CLOSED RP)
« Reply #13 on: April 16, 2013, 11:27:55 am »

Also not one to keep idle, Relapse had been spending the last twelve days in a combination of training, reading up on Gaer in the Guardian records, getting to know his teammates (if he could), and catching up with Ocelico. The 'guest' identification and CM had been received in good humour and are currently clipped to his equipment belt.

Relapse frowns when the deityicide is mentioned, but like the others makes no comment through the briefing. He also mentally runs through what he knows of Gaer's "middle" human settlements, trying to picture the most defensible position and other strategic points of interest; along with any points in the map which have much less detail compared to any others.

Perching doll-house sized on Relapse's shoulder, Cupboard grows tiny wooden horns when the prospect of de-humaning Relapse is raised - which earns it a casual flick to its side. The horns turn into a wooden halo - for nearly one whole second before becoming a cartoon cranky-cloud of displeasure.

When Rhade asks his question Relapse adds a follow up. "Can you supply us with pictures of the Guardians missing so we know who we are looking for?" Having no requisitions, he's happy to continue his training (which now includes reading up on Manos Perdix) and prepare his equipment until it is time to assemble at the muster point.

He also muses quietly to himself .oO ( I am better bipedal than quad; which means dragon over Griffin. Question being, should I be close to Blacktalon's markings or purposefully different? Or is Cupboard even going to give me a choice in the matter? )
« Last Edit: April 18, 2013, 02:55:56 pm by Relapse »
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Ashla

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Re: Derailed (CLOSED RP)
« Reply #14 on: April 16, 2013, 07:15:14 pm »

Keith is flipping over the notes when he hears the warnings about firearms and immediatley feels a slight bit of worry; his shotgun was what he preffered to use at range and without it he'd have to rely on more... drastic measures.

""Firearms" usually means guns Mia, so bows and arrows should be fine" he says, trying to sound confident.

"How insistent are you that we don't appear human? Is this like the CS where they'll just shoot on sight or just general distrust?"
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