Introduction
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ＮＯ ＭＡＴＴＥＲ ＨＯＷ ＭＡＮＹ
xxxxxxxxxＴＩＭＥＳ ＹＯＵ ＳＣＲＥＡＭ ＦＯＲ ＩＴ
xxxxxxxxx ＯＵＴ ＯＦ ＹＯＵＲ ＲＥＡＣＨ
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This war has been going on for a while now; a horrible part of history made up bit by bit with little feuds, and different beliefs. The government had come crashing down long ago-- most people can't even remember what it had been like by now. The word 'peace' and 'equality' now hold no more meaning than a single drop of rain falling down, and have become nothing more but impossible thoughts, too distant to be reached.
All the mayhem started with the government's downfall. Laws were no longer followed, and everything was chaotic. That is, until the wealthy took a step out into the spotlight. They started to become the ones who made regulations in our world, and they were the only ones who could make decisions.
And soon enough, if you weren't wealthy, you were nothing-- just a stray drop of ink on a perfectly clean sheet of paper.
With the new 'leaders', anyone who was poor had to make a decision. They could sign their life off to work for a wealthy family; a job with 'promised' protection-- "the Contract", or they would be exiled from the walls of every city. It was there they would come to meet one of the biggest threats of today's leadership; the Outside.
It's rumored that the Outside is full of inhumanly people; mediocre humans. They're all wrong though. The Outside is full of people who were exiled, and they've started to create establishments of their own-- they now flourish in their own lifestyle. They've never been satisfied with just this, though. They want revenge-- they want to see the wealthy crumbling down.
And so, this war will continue. For passing seconds, the war will continue to grow in size-- and those seconds will easily turn to minutes, then to hours, days, months, and years. Ages, even. No one can escape it; everyone will have their separate part. Whether it's as a wealthy figure, or an exiled outcast.
Maybe even a girl blinded by the secrets each side holds.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxOr a boy living his life shrouded in lies, with only forged memories.
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- 5 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 2 authors
cxcxＷｅ ａｒｅ ｍａｄｅ ｏｆ ｓｈａｔｔｅｒｅｄ ｐｉｅｃｅｓ.
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Ｗｅ ａｒｅ ｂｒｏｋｅｎ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｓｔａｒｔ.cxcxcx
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- She had been living in darkness for quite a while now.
This wasn't the first time.
'The Outside isn't as bad as it's said to be,' was a mere scratched out thought in Colette's mind now. Then again, 'the Outside is horrid' hadn't ever been much of a thought in her head of hers either. There had only ever been 'survive', 'her father', and anything of the sort. And if surviving and her father somehow was tied in with the Outside, so be it. It'd cross her mind then, but maybe not ever again.
Keeping her from seeing was a blindfold, neatly tied under her chocolate brown hair and completely covering her eyes. She was just glad they hadn't completely removed her eyes by now. Oh, what an abhorrent thought. They had already snagged her away from the walls of the city-- her home --so anything more would just be outrageous. Though, she already knew they were going to do more. She knew the intent of their plans, from the whispers that leaked in through the walls as she lie practically motionless on the dull mattress of the bed in the room she was kept in.
She was their key to revenge-- nothing more, nothing less. Like an amazing weapon that they had to steal and claim their own.
Did they ever even realize that she was also a human herself? Or was she just a blade for war through their eyes?
If only she didn't have to constantly wear this blindfold on her eyes. If she didn't, she would've already been able to understand why they were doing this, through memories piled up one by one in the back of their minds. She could only guess that she'd never be able to look an exiled in the eye though. They were cautious-- too cautious, almost.
Rolling over onto her side, her hair shifted and flowed out behind her in cascading waves. Everything in her sight stayed the same; an infinite black playing field. It was the same as if having her eyes constantly closed. Yet, she kept them open under the piece of cloth. For sometimes, when light leaked into the room, she could tell. The cloth would lighten up just the slightest, and sometimes milky rays of light would seep in under a stray fold.
Had she ever considered light so beautiful in her life? No-- it had just been something merely took for granted. Now, for once, it was actually one of the things she missed.
Constantly, in a continuous cycle, she'd start flipping through her memories over and over again when she found nothing else to do. Or she'd run her hand along the wall, feeling every single crack and crescent. Had she ever been this bored in her life? Or, was it more out of fright than boredom?
This was only the inevitable though. From the moment she had volunteered to be a test subject, the chances of her being kidnapped by exiled people from the Outside became bigger as ever. Did she regret it though? In a way, she didn't. Her father would've been dead by now if she hadn't done what she had-- she probably would've been as well.
And she knew this would've probably come to happening. She just hadn't ever imagined it. Hadn't ever lived through it.
So, she lived on silent in the darkness consuming her, feigning boredom to hide fear.
This wouldn't be the last time.
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She had lost track of the time long ago. She could barely even recall the number of day it was, though it hadn't yet been a simple few weeks since her capture. The month, however, she had tried to keep stapled to the top of her memory. Or had that changed already as well? Well-- the date at least wasn't the most important thing to remember. Once she manages to get out of that place-- that is, if she ever does --she'll just learn it right there and then.
Letting her eyes fall closed, she started to try to clear her mind, though fear always remained. Sleep had been the only way for her to escape the cruel reality that was suffocating her in the past weeks, so she always found solace in it. Not to mention, it was always easy to let her consciousness wander in the deafening silence of the exiled camp.
Ever since the testing had begun on her-- back in the city --she never once had another dream. Instead, the closest thing to 'dreams' she had were little fleeting bits of memories that came from others. Most were vibrant and beautiful, though they made her feel as if she was drowning in a mask of many identities. And some would swirl around her, pulling her down.
Then, there came the other ones. 'Nightmares' would be a fitting name.
Horrifying memories-- ones people tried to push away, yet she was able to find. And she hated them. Mostly when they were her own.
The rest was mere blackness.
This time, however, the rumbling that put her unconscious state at edge wasn't something she had expected. At first, she thought it was out of a sleepy haze-- it was probably only the broken sound pulled off of someone else's memory, like a crumb off of bread. Though, as it grew louder, and louder, and louder, shoving Colette out of her sleep, it became obvious it wasn't.
With ragged, uneven breath, that came out in pants, she shot up to sitting on the bed. It wasn't just a 'dream'-- the sound was real, and it was constantly growing louder and louder. It was almost familiar, in a way, and as soon as she managed to get her breathing in check, a flicker of hope was lit in the pit of her stomach.
The city soldiers were here. That could be the only explanation for such a noise. They were announcing themselves loud and clear, to strike fear in the exiles.
Shoving herself to her feet, she managed to blindly stumble her way over to the cold surface of the door. She would've tried to take off the blindfold, but she knew it was pointless. It was practically impossible to remove, and she couldn't figure out quite why, because, well, she couldn't see.
With a dry, yet soft voice-- that felt as if it hadn't been used in forever, she mustered up whatever sound she could make and called out, "What's going on?" The only reply that she got though was the sound of pandemonium outside; people hollering, soldiers giving orders, signaling attacks. She couldn't have expected an exile to reply anyways. They didn't trust her in the first place.
And, this fighting was over her, anyways. They were only trying to protect the weapon they deemed theirs-- while the soldiers were trying to retrieve it.
However, as the door was swung open-- which almost caused the poor brunette to go falling face first onto the ground --the small hope in her chest grew. The gruff hand that grabbed her wrist was enough to suppress the burning feeling though-- an exile had gotten to her first. And they gave no explanation as they started to tow her along behind them at a quick pace, towards the nearest exit.
"They're wasting so many soldiers just to get the girl back-- how pitiful!" a voice could be heard echoing down the winding hallway. So, it was the soldiers! This could be her chance to escape; to return to the walls of the city and see her father. "They have some weapon though. It looks more like it emits something other than a projectile."
Pushing the warning aside as she was practically dragged by the man leading her, she focused on her main goal. She had to escape here. This was her only chance. And if she failed...
Well, there was no room for failure.
OMITTED FOR REASONS; TEMPORARY
lowering my word count because people suck
once the GM returns, I fully intend on reposting the content
lowering my word count because people suck
once the GM returns, I fully intend on reposting the content
cxcxＷｅ ａｒｅ ｍａｄｅ ｏｆ ｓｈａｔｔｅｒｅｄ ｐｉｅｃｅｓ.
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Ｗｅ ａｒｅ ｂｒｏｋｅｎ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｓｔａｒｔ.cxcxcx
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- The voices being flung all around were almost too much for Colette to handle-- when you can't see anything, it's unbelievable how much it seems like your hearing starts to improve. At least, for her it was. It must've only been for the smallest sliver of comfort though-- her mind was creating something for her to rely on.
And what made it worse was that they didn't stop. They kept going and going; every holler dramatically increasing in volume.
As the ground under her feet changed, from dense tiles to bloodied soil, a holler rose above the voices of others, "There, there, she's over there! Don't let the City Mongrels get close!" Every word in the two simple sentences alone could create contrasting feelings in the pit of her stomach. 'City mongrels' meant that this attack was for her rescue, but 'get her out of here' made it seem as if it was all for nothing-- as if they were senselessly sending out men to fight these 'city mongrels' all for nothing.
The dry and coarse hand grasping her wrist made no move to let go as they were swept up into the crowd, fleeing away from the main battlefield; the camp that had been her imprisonment for so long. It almost made her want to stop and think for a second; did the families the exiles had back there mean almost nothing to them, when it came to such ludicrous warfare? No, no-- she didn't have time for these thoughts. She only could focus on one thing; getting out of here. Maybe when they were out of the camp, she could manage to slip out of this mans grip. It was selfish, indeed, but she didn't belong in this place.
Step after step, the brunette practically tripped over her own feet, only to be pulled away from falling by the man with a hold on her every single time. She was in no condition to run, after being locked up for quite a while, but whoever was leading her, they didn't seem as if they were going to let her just lay out in the middle of the fighting anytime soon. Though as an uncanny feeling filled the air after a loud explosion from the city troops, she froze for a second in her footsteps--coming to a halt for the smallest of milliseconds.
What felt like a mist had filled the air; she could feel it up against her skin, coalescing around the fighting figures, and her hand jerked to her mouth as she was pulled away. It made the air musty, fetid, and malodorous. And unbeknown to her, the city had just begun the self destruction of their own invention--her eyes, covered by a mere piece of cloth, were being painlessly torn apart. Cells were destroyed by the second, in the retina, the iris. With the blindfold, it was impossible to notice. It was just another 'you've seen darkness once, you've seen it a million times' situation for her. But the city had seen this--if they couldn't have their own weapon, they'd destroy it.
It only seemed as if a weapon city soldiers had failed-- that whatever it was supposed to do didn't happen, and instead must've shot some smoke into the air. But the soldiers went on as if unfazed, and so all the exiles did as well. They weren't going to let their enemies have the upper hand.
And, just like that, as if the whole scene was being played with a pause button installed, everything returned to it's fast paced action. The man ushered her to the edges of camp-- which was mere feet away --as the fighting went on.
Soon enough, the fighting was fading off into silence; by every footstep, more of the grinding, contentious sounds of weapons upon weapons and truculent men was left behind. Colette could only guess that the man was leading her to some place away from the quarrel. Why? Well, she would've been stupid to think otherwise. She was the reason for this bout; which ever side that had her would be victorious.
Her breath had easily become shoddy and uneven-- not so much from being out of shape, but instead of how quickly their flee had begun --until the man brought them to a stop. And a stream of questions began to find their place in Colette's head; an exile, a city soldier? She wasn't so worried about why he had been the one to lead her away--but more, who had.
"Don't worry," he told her, "We're almost there. Just a bit further."
Don't worry--after being held captive for a month and tested countless times with needles and scopes, then suddenly swooped off of a battle field by a strange man, there was no other option. The pause in their escapade gave her the moments needed for air to fill her deprived lungs, and she jerked her arm from his grasp. For all she knew, he could be dangerous: before she went any further, she'd have to figure out whose custody she was in--the city's, or the exiles. She needed to know whether to run, or to follow.
"I won't--" a deep, rugged inhale, "go any further, until you tell me who you are."
She had to hold her ground--this could be her last chance at freedom, though what that word meant she didn't know, at least not anymore.
OMITTED FOR REASONS; TEMPORARY
lowering my word count because people suck
once the GM returns, I fully intend on reposting the content
lowering my word count because people suck
once the GM returns, I fully intend on reposting the content
cxcxＷｅ ａｒｅ ｍａｄｅ ｏｆ ｓｈａｔｔｅｒｅｄ ｐｉｅｃｅｓ.
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Ｗｅ ａｒｅ ｂｒｏｋｅｎ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｓｔａｒｔ.cxcxcx
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- "You wouldn't know me by name, but I'm not one of them," his answer was dissatisfying, to say the least. There was no "being neither of them" nowadays--not this far into such a deep-rooted war. One either hated the city, or abided by their rules and lifestyle. One either fought against the city, or worked to strengthen it's steel walls. There was no other side, no other possibility--... it there was, she certainly did not know of it.
Seeing he had been the one to lead her away from the commotion earlier, there had to be some sort of motive--a reason for him to risk his life to get a grasp on the weapon of the city.
She didn't say anything more as he continued on, sighing in relief as he does once she finally moves once more. The sounds of metal clashing against metal, of hollers in the night as fighting dragged on, gradually became lighter and softer, until it was almost nonexistent. Replacing it was the sound of a door opening as he led her into what must've been some sort of house, and the creaking of aged wooden floors.
"Alright we're safe," he sat her down on a rugged cushion-- likely a couch or a seat of some sort, "I suppose you still want that introduction."
She was cautious with her words, turning them over as she pondered of something to say. His name was, frankly said, the least of her worries as of now. Colette hadn't exactly been a social butterfly in the city-- she scarcely knew the names of the scientists that had done the procedures to her eyes. Even if she learned his, she wouldn't be able to recognize it in any way. Her memories were lost among others-- ones she had seen in the eyes of people.
And then it hit her; that was her advantage. The man that now stood in front of her was likely to have a weapon of some sort, a gun being her first guess. However, although she had no physical armament, she was not hopeless. She had brain, making up for her lack of brawn. Not only did she have that though, but also, she held the talent that the city soldiers had raided that camp over.
"Take this blindfold off," It came out as nothing much more than a breath at first. Thinking further into the situation, he could easily overpower her in a fight. If she did happen to find out he was either a soldier or an exile, there would be little time to run. But where to? That wonder would have to wait.
"This blindfold isn't easy to take off-- so if you could," she started, raising her voice louder this time. "Untie it first, please. If you're really neither a soldier or an exile, you should have nothing to fear from your memories." It came out sounding a bit more off than it did in her head, but alas, this was her only chance.
A small part of her held some sort of doubt, deep down. Her eyes had been throbbing since the moment they had fled. Of course, seeing light once more for the first time in a full month was bound to sting, but there was a sort of fear lodged in her throat-- had the exiles done something to her eyes in the time she had been there? While she was conscious, of course, they hadn't done anything much to her. But one couldn't go forever without sleep: in the time of her captivity, although she held reluctant to fatigue, she had often drowsed off to sleep for long periods of time. Something could've happened to her during those brief moments, though she hated to acknowledge it.
She felt the need to say something more other than her request, albeit a little one. What context she had added to it may have make it seem as a threat-- blatantly stating that she could, in fact, see who he was from his memories, but if he was who he had said he was there would be nothing more of it.
But in the least, she could add her name. Perhaps it would prompt him to say his as well, even though he had already offered; "My name is Colette, but if you know who I am you likely already know that-- that or you've heard of me as Project AX."
As she spoke, a spare thought crossed her head. Say this man truly was neither with the City or the exiles; how would he have known of her? Thinking over it, her suspicion grew rapidly. Her body grew tense, and she sat on the edge of the couch, her fingers curling around the edges. Maybe she was just being paranoid, and the dusty air of the abandoned house was getting to her, but she had grown tired of being used for personal grudges and revenge. The only solace she held was of the thought of her father, who would by now have a new spine and be walking once more.
All of this, it had to have been worth it. Her freedom for the safety of the only precious person left to her. She questioned her hesitating and mistrust, for this had been her own decision. All of this had become her fate the moment she signed up as a test subject.
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Once an Item has been created, it can be spawned in the IC using /spawn Item Name (case-sensitive, as usual) — this can be followed with /take Item Name to retrieve the item into the current character's inventory.
Mobs
Give your Universe life by adding a Mob, which are auto-replenishing NPCs your players can interact with. Useful for some quick hack-and-slash fun!
Mobs can be automated spawns, like rats and bats, or full-on NPCs complete with conversation menus. Use them to enhance your player experience!
Current Mobs
No mobs have been created yet.
Spawns
Locations where Mobs and Items might appear.
Events
You can schedule events for your players to create notifications and schedule times for everyone to plan around.
Orphanage
By marking a character as abandoned, you can offer them to your players as pre-made character sheets.
The Forge
Use your INK to craft new artifacts in Revolutionary Memories. Once created, Items cannot be changed, but they can be bought and sold in the marketplace.
Notable Items
No items have been created yet!
The Market
Buy, sell, and even craft your own items in this universe.
Market DataMarket conditions are Quick Buy (Items Most Recently Listed for Sale) |
Open Stores
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Colette J. Sylvestre
"I have nothing to offer anybody, except my own confusion."
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Colette J. Sylvestre
"I have nothing to offer anybody, except my own confusion."
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Colette J. Sylvestre
"I have nothing to offer anybody, except my own confusion."
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Revolutionary Memories
by Aurei on Mon Nov 10, 2014 12:57 am
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on Mon Nov 10, 2014 12:57 am
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Revolutionary Memories
Most recent OOC posts in Revolutionary Memories
Revolutionary Memories
- A private role-play between Aurei and ibecameinsane. Please do not post here unless you are one of us two.