| Warm, soothing goo surrounds your body. It's so hard to move, and impossible to think. You may not realize it yet, but you have been selected for the Crew of the Vesmir. Oh, sure, you may not be capable of anything good or wholesome, and fine, you not even know what space is, but that doesn't matter to your moon-sized captor. You have been chosen, stolen from the only home you have known, and are now forced to suffer the indignities only a ship of kobolds can provide. Perhaps it's not as serious as all that. Somewhere between the crystal spheres and the endless void of space drifts a giant, living, silent ship. The Vesmir. Home. Once you log in, this annoying block of text goes away: |
| June the First: Changing Game Times; Summer times | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 1 2009, 04:50 AM (78 Views) | |
| The Vesmir | Jun 1 2009, 04:50 AM Post #1 |
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True Due to summer times, we're going to move Vesmir from Tues/Thurs/Sat to a Thursday/Saturday-maybe-depending-on-game. It will still start at 9 EST, 7 Mountain, 6 Pacific, and go for a few hours depending on content. We'll decide Thursday night if we'll need a Saturday game. Our next game will be on June the 4th. It will take place on Day 3. Almost a full day has past since you recovered the maps. The Mission will be starting in the Alcove. The maps will need to be plugged into MEDUSA to be read, which can be done via Delta. Since you have almost a full day, please post any down time. If you wish to RP with an NPC, let me know. Al's is up for grabs, as is the Plaza, engineering, and the Library. Until further notice, Ozymandias will be stationed int he library, teaching the kobolds to read. How handy. If you can or can't make it, let me know. Since we'll be moving to one time a week, I'm hoping for an intense game. Oo la la. Our Next Mission is entitled "The Horizontal-Vertical Rule". Rock, Trina |
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| Ozymandias Crow | Jun 2 2009, 06:41 PM Post #2 |
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You didn't ask, and I don't approve. There's nothing I can do to make you, but I'd really rather you didn't continue using My Character. If you're worried about continuity, then retcon, re-write, or hand wave. To make this simpler, one last 'Downtime', that you can use as the canonical end of his story-arc, if you like. You may have to edit for tense; 2.5.1: Like Jewels Glittering. Ozymandias trudged through the Plaza's undergrowth, grumbling disjointedly to himself. He hadn't really meant to lash out at the odd young moustachioed child so, but he'd gotten a little carried away in his pique. "It's the headache, no doubt" He muttered to himself, rubbing at his temples. It seemed like some kind of migraine, a throbbing agony just behind his multi-coloured, ever-so-slightly too large eyes. Perhaps some kind of eye-strain was the cause, he mused. It was true, before he was taken, his eyesight had been a glorious chaos of inexplicable waves of colour and visible sound, but since arriving on this strange ether-sailing vessel (the size of a moon, they say?), his eyesight had been faded, muted, almost like real human eyes again. The last hour or so, however, they seemed to have gotten worse. He stumbled, tripping over a bush he hadn't noticed. He landed heavily, bloodying his knees and dropping his ciggarette. It went out, and Ozymandias swore colourfully in several languages. His eyesight was now barely more than a dim, black and green smear, like looking through thick, naturally occurring glass. Wetness on his cheek, suprised him. He reached up, dark liquid smearing his fingers, but what colour he couldn't really say with any certainty anymore. His vision dimmed, and went out altogether. "Well, this is a grim turn, and no mistake." He said aloud, nervously. His world dark, the pain shreaked and writhed in his face. He closed his eyes and felt with some dark suprise felt the once pristene roundness of his alien eyes broken by roughness and a writhing motion to match the pain. He screamed then, as his eyes burst open like snake eggs. Clawing at his face, he thrashed at the dirt, smashing his body into trees and ferns in a wild fit, crying and shouting and frothing at the mouth. It did not last, however, as the newborn creatures ate their way into his brain, devouring the grey matter that defined who Ozymandias Crow had been in seconds, minutes. The clearing grew still. The bloody pits that had once held Crow's eyes were still and empty for a time, before slowly, timidly, the post-larval creatures crawled out of his empty skull and set themselves drying upon his torture-wracked face. Their wings spread as they dried, the blood flaking and falling away. Semi-translucent, four limbed and crystal winged creatures, the size of small bats, their maws toothy and their bellies full of their virgin meal. Like psychadelic butterflies, the crystaline bat-moths twitched their now dry wings tentatively, and took wing, leaving the broken husk of Ozymandias Crow behind forever. |
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| The Vesmir | Jun 5 2009, 01:14 AM Post #3 |
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Sounds fine to me. |
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| Herr Doktor | Jun 5 2009, 01:37 AM Post #4 |
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Eugen spends his down time in a sensible fashion; he spends time with his new "pets" (Mime and Sssss), retrieves medical supplies from the store room he had discovered earlier and, considering that he is only human, takes a nap and has a bit of a snack. |
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| blackheart | Jun 5 2009, 03:04 AM Post #5 |
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Ev has been hanging out with Greta (and Gareth, I guess, if he's still at Al's), flirting over cherry pie and relating various nefarious escapades from her pre-Vesmir days as a bank robber and criminal. Eventually, though, she hauls her one-armed butt back down the ladder, cleans the twigs and crap out of her hair, and sleeps the sleep of the very well drugged back in her room. She dreams about sparkly unicorns, fast cars, and raunchy sex with her ex-partner. They are good dreams. |
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