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The Spectacular Journey; Y'all better get ready for a ride.
Topic Started: Jun 15 2012, 02:21 AM (3,304 Views)
Kamidio
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I honestly thought today was going to be an ordinary day. How wrong I was. First, the stars in the sky faded away, one by one. Then there were the bombing runs in Alabama. Apparently, ghostly Nazi war planes had somehow managed to reanimate for more attacks on the Allies. Not to mention that when I went online to find out what was happening, several news sites were claiming that it wasn't just here. Ghosts, ghosts everywhere. The Mexicans were being attacked by Aztec specters, Northern Ireland was being attacked by undead potato farmers, aliens were being spotted over Washington and Siberia, Neanderthals were seen hunting mammoths in France, and vikings were sinking Somalian pirate ships. There was even an address by our President...

Reagan. All he said while on TV was how he knew this would happen, and how he was right all along. To be fair, the speech was directed at the older generation of War Hawks, and not at the younger generations. I agreed with him. Even if he was a zombie.

But none of that was what I would consider weird, compared to the one thing that did scare me. You know how a problem isn't a problem until it has effects on you? This is one of those situations. See, after looking at all the news websites, I went to my nice little patch of heaven I call my website. It's a nice-sized forum. The members tend to be good people from around the world, and though I would probably joke about it, I honestly wouldn't wish them any serious harm in these crazy times.

But that's what scared me. Not a single soul was online. Not one. None of the mods, not even the guests were online. It was eerie. For a site normally so full to suddenly become a ghost forum, it was just plain wrong. It'd come to my mind that maybe, just maybe, everyone who used the site had been seriously injured, or even killed in all the chaos. My members. My virtual family, could be dead or dying, and I have no way of helping them.

Then, a beacon of hope came to me. As I refreshed the page, there was a new member. But instead of having an italicized name, their name was a deep black, with bold applied to it. There were static-like blocks on either side of the lone letter. It simply read ''M'. I refreshed again. There was something in the shout box now.

'M:You're worried, aren't you?

I replied immediately.

Parasky: Yeah, why wouldn't I be? This is my website, after all. Low traffic would be bad news for me.

'M: I can see right through you. It's not the site you're worried about, it's your members. Your friends.

This guy was officially creepy, but knowing that weirder things have happened today, I decided it wasn't too far of a stretch for some internet weirdo to be able to tell I was lying.

'M: You want to help them, don't you? If you step outside, I can help you save your friends from 'them'.

Parasky: Who's them? Why should I believe you, some crazy person I just met on the internet?

'M: Because deep down, you'll take any chance to save them, out of the basic altruism all you humans show for one another. Inside that head of yours, a little voice is telling you to step outside. And it's growing. You can't stop the voice. Go, step outside and help them.

Parasky: Fine.

I reluctantly decided that if the world was falling apart, then I might as well indulge a crazy person. Getting out of my chair and pushing it in under my desk, I made for the nearest door that lead outside. As I opened it, instead of being greeted by a view of my lawn, I fell into an empty white space. Multicolored lightning shot out of the area where I assumed my computer was in this empty white space, and everything went black as I faded out of consciousness.




When I came to, I was no longer in the vast white void. Instead, all around me was a land right out of a steampunk convention. Most notably, the world no longer looked like it did normally for me. Instead, everything looked like it was painted with oil paints. People had exaggerated physiques, right out of a cartoon. Pulling myself up and dusting my pants clean, I could tell I was on an airship. I also noticed that I seemed to still look like I did when I left, minus some dirt stains that looked air-brushed on.

Looking around, I noticed someone wearing a long, flowing cape with wavy blond hair. His clothes looked like they were made for royalty. I'll admit, the guy looked like a pompous ass. But he, being the cleanest person on this steampunk ship, was clearly in charge. He hadn't noticed me yet, so with the advantage of surprise, I sneaked up behind him, and poked him in the shoulder.

"What is it that you want, sailor? Can't you see that I'm busy trying to find a path that will lead us away from the Germans?"

"Germans? What is this, the Second Great War?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I swear, why did Her Majesty Queen Victoria allow Americans to serve with the Royal Privateers. They're all so dreadfully dull."

"Hey, who ya callin' dumb?"

"You, obviously. Now shoo." The blonde man turned to face me. Now that I could see his face, I could say one thing. He was one of those pretty boys. He had blue eyes and a round face. Kinda like something you'd see in some kind of fantasy. Fitting, considering he was apparently the captain of a steampunk skyship. His oil-painted eyes locked with mine.

"You aren't one of my men. Who the hell are you, how have you boarded my ship mid-flight, and why do you look so blasted bizarre?"

I thought about giving my real name, but I realized that might not be wise, seeing as this was clearly a different world. There was also how I got here. I had no idea, other than 'freaky computer magic'. so I decided to go the quick route.

"I'm bizarre? Look in the mirror, paint boy. By the way, name's Parasky."

The blonde man looked at me pensively. Then, he extended a hand to me in order to initiate the handshake. His expression softened.

"Hello, Parasky. I honestly expected you'd be more, more..."

The man clearly recognized the name. How he did, I was soon to find out.

"Oil painty? From your world?"

"Well, if you put it that way, yes. Shouldn't you be in Kansas?" He paused before a shocked expression took over his features. "How rude of me! You won't recognize me because I never show my face on the forum, but you might recognize the name of this vessel."

I turned to where the blonde man had pointed at a metal plate bolted to the wood in front of the wheel. It was adorned with images of a various sharks. They all had one thing in common. The were mackerel sharks. Lamnidae. In one corner, next to a pair of sharks, the word 'Lamna' was there in stylized text. I looked from the plate to the man, and then back again. I don't know how long I stared, but I know one thing. I knew at least one of my staff was alive.

"Lamna!" I grabbed him and pulled him into a quick man-hug.

"It is odd to hear that name after so long."

I broke the hug.

"What do you mean 'after so long'?"

"Speculative Evolution went down about eight years ago. I never got why, but I just moved on. Eventually the war broke out, and I joined the Royal Privateers. I haven't heard from anyone except Holben, who serves as my second-in-command here on the ship." He snapped his fingers and a clockwork robot came running up to the wheel. "Holben."

"Yes, sir?"

"Tell me what you can about this man."

The robot leaned in, taking me in with its glass-pane eyes.

"He does not seem to be normal. I suggest birth defect."

"Incorrect. This is Parasky. Surely you remember Speculative Evolution?" Lamna took the Holben's hand and put it against mine. I'll admit, Lamna's silk gloves were amazing to feel. Even if it looked like paint. Holben's hand however, was like shaking hands with a bunch of welded metal. As the forced hand shake with Holben broke off, I looked him dead on.

"I knew it. You were a robot the entire time."

Holben shrugged. "It was kind of obvious if you think about it."

And he was right. It was incredibly obvious.

"So you two have never met the others? Ever?"

Lamna shook his head solemnly. "None of them. If you're clearly not from our world, then the others might each come from their own worlds."

Holben picked up on the thought. "It might mean Speculative Evolution was some form of portal. Not sure how or why though."

That piqued my interest. "Wait, if you're from a world in Steampunk World War II, then how the hell do you have internet?"

Lamna shrugged. "I don't know all the details, but I'm sure someone from the old site would've said 'Magic'."

"You mean Fakey?"

"Who?"

"Fakey, you know the goo-"

BOOOOM

"Sir, a German U-Flyer off the port bow!"

Lamna, with quickness I would never have expected, took to the wheel and turned it so fast the ship did a barrel roll. I saw the landscape below for the first time. It was a nearly obliterated London. Air ships were duking it out with what resembled U-boats, if they were made from bronze and brass and spewed black smoke.

"Men! To arms! Give it your best, Her Majesty's safety is riding on our victory! Ready the guns! Prepare to board!"

As Lamna gave out commands rapid fire, each one was being carried out as he named off the next task. I was inspiring to see him commanding his sailors with such efficiency. The guns turned and fired steel harpoons at the U-Flyer, reeling it in and taking out its engine in the process. The sailors all boarded the aerial death machine. Lamna's expression was one of steel. His ocean-like blue eyes seemed to rage, his blonde hair flowing behind him in a ponytail as he donned his tricorne. He was like a conductor, and his sailors where his orchestra. Holben stood in the crow's nest, hooking his hands into some form of giant turret.

I watched as the sailors who entered the Nazi warship were driven out by men in warsuits that looked like they were made of gears. One of them picked up a sailor and squeezed until his bones were powder, throwing his corpse into his crew mates.

"They've got Panzers! Holben! Open fire!"

Holben nodded resolutely as the giant turret rotated to face the enemy. The sides on the guns read 'Spitfire'. The turrets let out loud crashes of sound as they shot balls of molten slag at the Panzers, welding the metal armor to their own ship, and even their own armor, immobilizing them.

Lamna signaled for more slag to rain down upon the airborne spine of the Wehrmacht. I could hear the pained screams of the Nazis as the heat of the melted metal flowed into their life-support apparatuses, sealing them like anchovies. As the threat was dispatched, the sailors once more laid siege upon the warship, coming back with stolen guns and weapons. The harpoons retracted at an incredibly fast pace, ripping free of the U-Flyer and sending it crashing to the ground. I continued to look at Lamna. If he was doing fine and lived in an entirely different world, then maybe the others were fine too. Still, that 'M guy wouldn't have sent me here if they didn't need saving. My thoughts were broken as Lamna snapped his finger in front of me.


"What?"

"I asked if you would like to join Holben and I in my quarters for dinner."

"Sure. I'd love to."

"Go wash up then. Holben will lead you to the washrooms."

Lamna snapped his fingers before turning back to the wheel, Holben jumping down from the turret and signalling for me to follow.

Today was clearly no ordinary day, but instead, the beginning of the biggest adventure in my life.
Edited by Kamidio, Jun 15 2012, 12:50 PM.
SSU:NC - Finding a new home.
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Kamidio
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Because they are ugly as fuck.
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Kamidio
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COMMENT MAGGOTS.
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Arachnus
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This is great.

Question: if you plan on using all the forums' members in this 'Journey', what kind of role will inactive or members that don't post at all fill? Since you have no idea what their personality is like and such, will you just make something up?
"The skywhale has been the elusive love of the speculative biologist since the beginning of time itself." -Mike

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"I shat this pile of pure garbage out in under three minutes while I heated up some pasta last night. I hate it, deeply." -Octo
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Kamidio
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I've been around for a long time.

I'll know enough about them to characterize them.
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Coming Soon/To be Rebooted:

How To Hunt Gods - Everything you need to know about Gods and the art of God-killing.

Intrazoology - The world of semi-corporeal lifeforms. A world you walk through every day, without even knowing it.

The Dungeonverse - Magical creatures forced to adapt in huge, underground caverns, while surface-dwelling humans go dungeoneering for treasure.

Crossover - A mish-mash of worlds, with Earth smack in the middle of the chaos. What could go wrong?

no worries


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Kamidio
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A note: You aren't in this story. I only put in the prominent members that nearly everyone knows.
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Coming Soon/To be Rebooted:

How To Hunt Gods - Everything you need to know about Gods and the art of God-killing.

Intrazoology - The world of semi-corporeal lifeforms. A world you walk through every day, without even knowing it.

The Dungeonverse - Magical creatures forced to adapt in huge, underground caverns, while surface-dwelling humans go dungeoneering for treasure.

Crossover - A mish-mash of worlds, with Earth smack in the middle of the chaos. What could go wrong?

no worries


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seascorpion
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Why Can't I Hold All These Mongols?

Am I the curly haired person?

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The other was a thin man who wore a tricorne over a set of curly brown locks


Aside from the tricorne hat, that sounds remarkably similar to how I look. I'm certainly one of the people who meets that criteria.
Edited by seascorpion, Aug 6 2012, 04:51 AM.
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lamna
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I think people are named after their projects, I don't really have any projects, but I made up a world called Outreciel, mostly as an excuse for alien boning and to annoy T.Neo.

I don't wear that many eye patches though.

Also Fakey was pestering me to come read this so I'm guessing one is me.
Edited by lamna, Aug 6 2012, 07:47 AM.
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Are nipples or genitals necessary, lamna?
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trex841
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Given he's been pestering me as well, i might be in there. Don’t have the faintest clue who it would be though.
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A comprehensive list of all organisms, artifacts, and alternative worlds encountered by the foundation team.

At the present time, concepts within are inconsistent and ever shifting.

(And this is just the spec related stuff)
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citrakayah
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I like this.
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Kamidio
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The curly-haired musketeer is indeed Lammy.

And yes, they are indeed named after their projects/planets.



Though I'm not telling who the guy stranded on Banheim is.
Edited by Kamidio, Aug 6 2012, 04:12 PM.
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lamna
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I don't have very curly hair, saying that I do get weird side curls when I wear hats.
Living Fossils

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Are nipples or genitals necessary, lamna?
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Kamidio
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I'm refering to the curls like those on your avatar, though that does seem a bit more wavy.
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Could Livytan be the guy who kills the Albatross?
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