The Visceral Saga

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The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Wed Jul 29, 2015 1:12 am

Hey all.  I had the inspiration for a kind of pseudo-RP, or more like an interactive fanfiction really. The subject matter is a bit out-there, but there are plenty of places for contribution and learning, and I hope you will enjoy.


I will implement a color-coding system -- each post will have only one color scheme corresponding to any of the below formats....


BLACK means informational posts like this one written by yours truly, designed to explain things or answer questions.  These are not part of the story/roleplay.


BLUE refers to the standard character story narration, including live conversation between characters.


GREEN refers to letter-writing speech or other retroactive thought process that hearkens back to a time before the story, or simply not fully-detailed due to fast-travel.


RED refers to narrator speech, describing actions or situations occurring live and possibly with more than one character, in a way that's far too complex to describe by any single character (ie, a giant battle scene).  
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Wed Jul 29, 2015 2:24 am

Princess Alta of Appendicitia's Journal, 
Wednesday, Twelve 20th, Year of Our Lady 6570,


Twas the year of Our Lady 4380 that my beloved kingdom of Appendicitia changed, and indeed the very livelihood of my people, I dare say not for the best.  Though I was young then, I still remember the beauty of my parent's castle, the kindness of its townspeople, and the stunning prosperity of our former nation.  It still brings tears to my eyes remembering those olden days of plenty, where we feared little and never suffered for lack or want of food, or of great beasts chasing us from our homes.  


Indeed, I confess that I refused to write in this journal at first -- how could I waste my time scribbling on parchment while my people, refugees in their own land, grow weak and hungry every day?! And moreover to lament that which we lost and may never return?!  


But as time went on and I saw the younglings suffer from lack of books and stories, or teachers and elders to orate for them our proud tales and legends, I felt a responsibility to at least put what literary training I was afforded in my young life to good use.  When I have the luxury of delegating leadership responsibilities to my trusted aids, I help transcribe stories, old and new, into formats that the younglings can read, and of course I do my best to help them read it.  Already earning such fond honoury titles as "Princess Bookmaster" or "Princess Teacher", a very common request was that I write about my life, as if it were of some excitement.  But oh! can the little smiles and pleading of children be so persuasive, and so I obliged and began this journal that, Grace permit, will satisfy their curiosity about their princess -- or what's left of her.


I'm sorry, perhaps I have gotten ahead of myself.  I will start from the beginning, bearing in mind that I was young and secluded at the time, so my narration may be wanting in details.  I can only tell you, dear reader, of what I heard from the royal guards entrusted to protect me, and what I saw with my own eyes.  The terrible things I saw with my eyes, enough to give me nightmares for years.


It began in a day like no other... I was with my tutor, learning of mundane things... I was up to two classes in marksmanship, one in lactic acid embroidery... when suddenly a very loud rolling series of explosions could be heard in the distance.  There by the Caecal mountains rolled by a large oval mass, shiny with a thick impenetrable wall of a cellulose-like material, so vast it crushed and destroyed whole forests and biomes, including those of the northern tribes of the Mesoappendilands of which we occasionally traded.  The object, alien in appearance and of a foul smell, lay to rest only a few kilometers from our town walls... and immediately my father the king, so valiant as he was, set off on an expeditionary force to try and determine its origin.  My mother the queen, ever a wise woman, had the remaining royal guards take me and the other children of our town away to a remote village where she had hoped we'd be safe -- accompanied with as many of our townspeople as possible who were willing to evacuate as a precaution.  


I had little time to react or truly appreciate the gravity of the situation; to be perfectly honest, those series of events leading up to our evacuation of the castle and the city were a blur of chaotic images of screaming, wailing and uncertainty. I can only remember that the Queen, my mother, would not come with us... for all my deepest protestations and imploring, was a woman of deep conviction, and stayed behind to oversee the partial evacuation, threatening to become a full one as my father and his army failed to return.


Then... then...


As we marched out of the town, another terrible noise roared, and I could see the giant object split open, spewing a brown cloud of noxious vileness all across the area it lay, spreading up to the fleshy sky as it keeled a ghastly dark green in defilement.  I screamed and cried knowing my father was within the blast of this, and had to be carried away as I writhed and hurled violently wanting to return to the castle... ride my foil which I had just learned to use at the time... and try to rescue him.  


But I could do nothing, and worse, I stood privvy to the most horrific scene yet to come.  For as the cloud spread towards our castle, dark phantasmic figures pulsated towards it like gelatinous beasts pealing with peccable shrieks of anguish!  It was only through their fragments of body parts and armour still attached to the gelatinous masses that I recognized them as the army expedition that had been sent earlier, now corrupted of some sinful power that had turned them to monsters of pure dark gliadin!  Behind them other enormous demons I did not recognize nor cared to have ever seen,... all these descended upon the castle and upon the helpless people and guards still left behind, and on my poor mother still trying to maintain order amidst such unbelievable tragedy.  For all our greatness and power afforded to our kingdom, the darkness that befell us that day completely overwhelmed it, and soon proceeded to befoul our beautiful land.  


With no home to return to, we had no choice but to march as far as we could, even as the rolling landscapes before us seem to degrade, as if the entire land of Appendicitia wept for the loss of its greatest kingdom, and the suffering of its people.  I did my best to carry on as my mother and maintain some semblance of order, but even so we lost many along the way; I was simply too young and unprepared to lead as a refugee princess to a kingdom that ceased to exist.  
Even now I wonder if I'm not more of a burden to my people... a relic of an age gone.  Perhaps that's why they care for me so, as I serve as a symbol of the olden times, and a prospect of hope that, Grace willing, this evil will one day pass from our lands.  


Burden or not, I will vow to protect my people, to help them rebuild their lives, and ensure a future for our younglings. May this journal serve not only as an instrument of education for children wishing to know more about their princess and teacher, but also as a testament to the life of myself, Alta, former heir and last surviving member of the Appendicitia royal family.  


May Our Lady of Grace help us all.
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Wed Jul 29, 2015 2:31 am

Grace rushed to class with a cold buffalo chicken wing pizza in her mouth, a donut in her left-hand, and a quart of Mountain Dew in her right.  It wasn't the best breakfast in the world, but given she was already 10 minutes late for Biology class at best, it had to do.  After all, calories are calories!


Besides, a couple of Tums and Pepto-Bismol tablets would ensure she wouldn't go through what happened last week.
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Mimi on Wed Jul 29, 2015 7:56 pm

Nice job so far. I'm hyped to hear what happens next. It sounds really interesting and I'm wondering if the names mean something. Quite a mystery. Reminds me of Once Upon a Time when they show what is happening in the past, and after the, future. I have a feeling this is going to be big.Razz
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Raddaman8000 on Wed Jul 29, 2015 8:23 pm

Sounds kind of like Osmosis Jones... it's just a fantasy instead of a detective story. I like where it's going! Very Happy
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Thu Jul 30, 2015 12:38 am

The view pans across a vast wasteland of dead or dying forest, sink holes and acidic pools of liquid, with only pockets of the once vibrant land struggling to push back against the creep of decay.  With most of the wild fauna dead or displaced, only giant, multi-legged detritivores traverse the landscape, feasting on the sudden overabundance of food, and the comfort of a highly-acidic ambiance.  One breaks off the branch of a dead tree, white with the drain of its lifeforce, seemingly turning to dust and ash as the gentle but massive detritivore starts to chew on it as a cow would grass.  A low hum overhead causes the creature to gently left its head up in curiosity, as it makes out a shape unfamiliar to it gliding across the fleshy sky with an easy grace. Moving too fast but too far to be threatening to the gentle giant, it returns back to its grazing of the blighted landscape having never stopped chewing on its food.

To Alta, floating high above on her air foil, the detritivores seem like black woolen ovals, intimidating to see up close, but almost cute from her vantage.  And they were indeed kind creatures,... eating up the many acidic remains of the Decay, and excreting it as more alkaline or neutral droppings from which new life could take root and continue its struggle against the rot.  She only wished there were more of them, but the fact that the detrivores were immune to monster attacks or corruption, and were of no danger to her or her people, made them very valuable to their survival here in the sickened and restless land of Appendicitia.

She begins her descent back into their makeshift village, a small barricaded settlement atop a knoll; it hugs an uncorrupted forest on one side, and offers an unimpeded view of the plainsland on the other.  She meets a little turbulance that shakes her foil a bit more erratically than usual, so she presses onto the device closer to try and minimize the drag, making sure also to tighten the strap on her rifle.  She checks to see if her bag of precious goodies is still attached safely to her belt -- she heaves a sigh of relief when she touches the generously-inflated pouch.

WATCHTOWER GUARD:  Princess!!! The Princess has arrived!!

The clanging bells indicated to Alta that they had seen her approach, and that she will soon be greeted by a lot of curious onlookers, her very dear but very overprotective guards, and the hugs of her beloved pupils.  Normally this is more attention than she thinks she deserved, but it couldn't be helped... with little time to evacuate more than just people, her air foil was the only one available, and there was scarcely any material or expertise to make more.  If she had any value in her position of royalty, it was as a reminder to her people that they were once capable of graceful flights... or rather glides,... across the beautiful bright red skies.  

Moreover, this time she needed everyone to greet her at once, as it was urgent that they act fast.

ALTA:  Make way!!

Her guards dutifully keep the townspeople and children a bit far back as the foil makes a rolling landing across the grass.  Alta leaps back letting the foil slow down on its own using friction, as she herself continues running as fast as she can matching the dangerously fast momentum, until it is safe for her to sprint, jog, trot, walk, and ultimately kneel down to catch her breath after an exhaustive flight.  She pulls her mouth cover off as she turns just in time to be jump-jugged by a young boy.

BOY:  PRINCESS TEACHER!! YOU MADE IT!!!

ALTA:  Of course I did! I promised I would return!  <3

The other children of her tutoring class also caught up with them and soon barraged her with high-pitched questions about her flight, and the success in her mission.  The other townsfolk and guards also arrive as well -- two guards breaking way to go retrieve the valuable air foil -- and soon the scene turns into something akin to a market as both food and water and towels are offered to the weary princess.  

ALTA:  One at a time, please!  Oh, thank you~! 
ALTA:  One at a time!
ALTA:  And before any of that, I will need the farmers to get some plots of lands ready this instant.

FARMER:  You mean... you found them?!

With a happy smile, she unsecures her pouch, and empties some of its contents onto her gloved outstretched hand... the tiny, fuzzy, glowing, seed-like pods make the townsfolk gasp in awe, cheer, cry, and/or praise Grace for the lifesaving find!

KIDS:  OLIGO SEEDS!!!!  YAY!!!
KIDS:  PRINCESS, YOU DID IT!!!

She had taught them about the Oligofructose plant some time ago... about how quickly it grew, how nourishing its fiberous fruit was to them relative to other crops, and how ultimately delicious it was in any dish, of which she was glad to know of a few.  Granted she always preferred the taste of the more practical and humble Inulin tubers, of which she would dry and take with her during expeditions to keep her properly fed and nourished for hours.  But the taste was far too practical, and she felt her people had worked so hard and had been through so much, that they deserved better -- certainly a chance to regain some of the culinary history once thought lost.  

The children lead her by the hand to the farmland, even as she carried the youngest on her shoulder who insisted on wanting to fly up high like she did, and was easily impressed as the princess imitated the various turns, swoops and wooshes of her flying experience.  This resulted in huge peals of laughter by the children, and soon they tried to imitate the same thing -- by the time they had arrived in the farm, it was met by a whole fleet of pretend air foils trying to imitate the haphazard landing routines they saw earlier, much to Alta's blushing face as she felt this was a tacit, if unwilling, critique of her own poor landing skills.  The rest of the townsfolk laughed, then awe'd in unison as the youngest child landed near the head farmer and delivered to her the valuable bag of Oligo seeds of which their livelihood would depend on it.  

But before the farmer could instruct her crew to sow them, she insisted and begged the princess to lay the first seed -- a small and perhaps insignificant gesture, but she was not alone among the people wishing to give something back to the brave young leader who has worked tirelessly for everyone else.  They would give the world to her if they could -- and as they watched with pride as she obliged, got down on her knees, and proceeded to bury the little seed into the fleshy soil, many couldn't help hold back some tears.  What they wouldn't give for their princess to have lived a normal royal life, and not one where she would have to be as dirty as they were, suffer the same hunger pans as they would, fight the same monsters as they would, and face the same kinds of fears as the others.

To Alta, however, the life of royalty seems like a distant memory, as her entire young adult life was spent so deeply with her people, imbuing her with a positive and caring spirit, as well as a fearless practicality that would see her become a capable leader under duress.  Her subjects may have looked up to her, but she looked up to them as well for she wouldn't be so loved and so happy, even with something as seemingly mundane as planting an Oligo seed, if not for having had the privilege of having so many wonderful "teachers" in her life.  Even the children themselves who looked up to her for learning, motivated Alta to study long and hard to suit the role of a teacher, which she grew into almost naturally.

In the end, everyone needed each other -- and despite their dire circumstance, it was that kindred balance that made her happy, and made everything seem right with the world.
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Thu Jul 30, 2015 12:52 am

Grace wakes up with a start as a seemingly loud and angry gargle from her stomach shakes her back into consciousness. She awakes to an empty classroom, a streak of dried drool streaking from her mouth onto her chin, and a PostIt note pressed on her forehead written with her professor's hand-writing:


"Good luck passing this class."


"F***!!!", she exclaims to herself as she realizes that despite all that sugar and caffeine, she still managed to fall asleep in Calculus class.  Unbeknownst to her, it was in fact the combination of the extreme blood sugar crash from her so-called "breakfast", coupled with only 3 hours of sleep from late-night TF2--,... er, "studying",... that led to a precipitous and rather dangerous loss of energy, and more so with such a boring class and a droning professor. Against those odds, the caffeine was powerless.


At worst, now she had a terrible case of the rumblies again,... she wasn't sure why this was becoming more and more common, other than a tacit acknowledgement that she was just eating a whole lot of crap.  But there wasn't really much choice on campus, certainly not if you're continuously on the run and bum-poor to boot.  And besides... food was food.


She hocked down about three Tums and hoped for the best, as she ran off to yet ANOTHER class she was late for already.
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Tilk on Thu Jul 30, 2015 10:01 am

Well I'll be. This is new, and quite creative. I may give my input later on down the line, but it would mostly only be praise or constructive criticism. I like where this is going! Nice job Cia!
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Thu Jul 30, 2015 11:13 pm

Thank you Mimi, Rad, Tilk, and all those who have posted nice comments of encouragement, either here or outside the forum.  It really keeps me motivated to continue. ^^


I'm focusing a lot on backstory and character development for now, so at the moment it's more of a linear progression.  Once the official start of Alta's journey begins, I'll gladly accept outside participation.  Only the beginning and ending of the story is planned -- everything in between is one massive and exciting free-for-all. ^^
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Fri Jul 31, 2015 2:30 am

It was later in the evening that the fleshy sky contracted into nightfall, a bit longer than usual.  It had been apparent that since the Decay the cycle of day and night began to lose its rhymtic regularity, and now it seemd the very land heaved and sighed in pain resulting in unusual and unforeseen irregularities.  Sometimes the days would last an eternity, followed by endless nights; and in others the days and nights would pulse in succession as if the very heavens panted in fatigue.  Luckily, the onset of night was not too bad this time, so the sleep cycles of the town's inhabitants were spared any major disruption.


After the celebration to honor the planting of the Oligo seeds, there had been rejoicing, dancing, singing, and feasting... in principal at least as there was not yet much food to feast on.  Still the mood had been jovial, and the rigors of their hard lives were at least interrupted with some much overdue merry-making.  Alta enjoyed every bit of the festivities, especially the dancing -- even if she wasn't good at it, she was no stranger to swinging and swaying happily to the beat of soul-lifting music. 


Then twilight brought on a more common yet much-beloved pastime: the orators!  All those interested -- usually everyone in the town, save for some dutiful soldiers or a tired farmer -- would crowd around the great townsquare bonfire, and listen to a procession of elders narrating their stories, either real or imagined.  The kind of stories that would captivate their audience -- stir them towards the edge of their makeshift benches with the riveting description of legendary battles, or staring up with awe at the imagining of a collosal dinosauric creature roaming an exotic land no one had heard of.  One elder had been captain of the royal air fleet, and would narrate the exhiliration of zipping through the heavens till the listeners could all but feel the gush of wind and the jarring breaking of ailerons... Alta could only dream of one day being such a poet with words.  Another had sung at public opera houses, and would sing such long, piercing and powerful songs that no one could understood, but no one had to as the emotion she conveyed in song was so overwhelming it brought many to bittersweet tears.  Still another had been a street performer, and absent some necesary props for his former trade turned to such delightful and witty roleplay that few if anyone, child or adult, could resist the intense belly laughter.  Alta's favorite was the tellings of an old widow who had lost her husband... an Outsider... long before the fall of their kingdom.  She would describe her husband's own claims of having come from the neighboring world of Colonia,... a world so impossibly vast and dangerous, that all but the hardiest inhabitants traversed it aboard mighty vast ships and vimanas, some as large as the land of Appendicitia itself!  Life abounded there, but so did monsters as well -- and her stories were both amazing and frightful, and Alta was absorbed by all of it.  Had it not been that they were struggling to survive, how she wished she could see these enormous golden-brown vimana for herself someday.  


Eventually the children and the more tired townsfolk left to their homes or fell asleep right there on the square, and those awake would huddle by the fire and reminisce of the grand old days.  A little later they too would fall asleep, and soon all but the fire seemed fast asleep.  


The fire... and Alta, who herself stayed awake, sitting with legs bent outwards and staring at the fire with a slight hint of unease on her face.  Her concentration is broken by a tiny tug of her tunic, and she turns to find her half-asleep youngest pupil offering her a book.


BOY: Please read me a story.


Alta quickly smiles to the young child, and obliges by taking the book from his tiny little hands and pretending to be staring at some ancient treasure.


ALTA:  Gasp! The Legendary Odyssey of the Three Little Bifudums...  The world is not ready for this power...


Normally the boy would squeak in giddy laughter at the obvious sarcasm, but now he could do no more than crack a weak smile and huddle up next to her, with little legs outstretched no bigger than half the length of her's.  She was in fact happy with the distraction from her troubles, and pressed him closer to her to ward off the evening chill.


[TO BE CONTINUED]
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Sun Aug 02, 2015 2:41 am

BOY: Princess...?


ALTA: Hmmm?


BOY: ....Do you like that story? 


ALTA:  Mhmm!  I used to read it many years ago.  When I was barely older than you.  This is the very copy I had when I was a little girl.


BOY:  That's great.


He still seemed sleepy, swiping in and out of consciousness, but still his curiosity sparked.


BOY:  Princess...?


ALTA:  Yes?


BOY:  ...Was the food tasty today?


ALTA:  Mhmm!  Very much so!  I ate like a queen!


BOY:  But you're a princess?


ALTA:  Oh yes... well,... I ate like a princess then!


BOY:  Will you become a queen some day?


ALTA:  I....


Alta winced a little at the future prospect.


ALTA:  ...No.


BOY:  But why...?


ALTA:  We can't have a queen without a kingdom, and right now we don't have a kingdom.  


BOY:  Oh....


ALTA:  Do you want me to be a queen?


BOY:  Mm.... I dunno...


ALTA: *chuckles* I think we'll stick with "princess" for now, it has a nice ring. 


BOY:  Mhmm!


ALTA:  Are you about ready to go to bed?


BOY: ....Maybe...?


ALTA:  Not maybe.  Yes.  You need your sleep.


The young boy replies by digging his face into her lap, not really wanting to detach from her.  She strokes his head a bit.  


ALTA:  Oh come now...


BOY:  [muffled]  Princess...?


ALTA:  *sigh*  Yes?


BOY:  Did you write in your diary?


ALTA:  Oh!  No, not yet.  To be honest... I've been staring at the fire thinking about what I wanted to write.  


BOY:  Mm... I'd love to hear about it tomorrow.  


ALTA:  It might not be very long -- I'm also quite tired too.  We may end up going to sleep together.


BOY:  Oh... okay.... That would be nice....


ALTA:  If only you asked these many questions in class, hehe.


BOY:  I'll try to...


ALTA:  Anyway, let's go--


BOY:  Princess...?


Alta was about to chide him further when suddenly she feels a bit of moisture on her lap.  The young boy is clearly weeping about something, and soon her face tenses with concern.


BOY:  *weeps* Does... Grace... hate us...?


ALTA:  *gasp*  What...?


BOY:  *sobbing* So many bad things happen... to us... Why... Why does She let... bad things happen?


She didn't know how he expressed it, but her face lit up with a mixture of fear and muted anger.  It seemed blasphemous for him to say that, no matter the age.  But then again, it was a sentiment she would sometimes feel before lots of times, back when she was young and confused and so surrounded by loss and death, that she at times genuinely feel as if Grace had foresaken them.


ALTA:  .....
ALTA:  That is a terrible thing to say....  Of course Grace loves us!  She watches from the Heavens, caring for those who are nice and good and pure of heart....  Like good little girls and boys such as yourself...!


BOY: But... I'm hungry... 


She strokes his hair a bit, trying to comfort him.


ALTA: That's mainly my fault.. you cannot blame Grace for that.


BOY:  *hugs tighter*  Nooo...!


ALTA:  We can't hope to understand how She thinks, our Lady works in mysterious ways.  What matters is that She loves us, and we love Her... and whatever trials and dangers we come across... we must tap into our love for Her to overcome them.  


BOY:  Mmmm.... *sniff*  We can....


ALTA:  Think of the good things She has given us.  We are still alive, we have those Oligo Seeds...


BOY:  ...We have you...?


ALTA:  Well......... yes, I suppose....


BOY:  Having our Princess Teacher is... the best gift Grace could give us...!


ALTA:  ....


BOY:  Grace, thank you for giving us Princess Alta...  I hope she can be with us... forever and ever....


ALTA:  I hope I can be with everyone for a long time too...


BOY:  Princess...?


ALTA:  Yes...?


BOY:  Can you... save us... all...?


Alta had to pause for a lot longer... this touched on that which occupied her mind tonight.


ALTA:  I will most definitely try.  And as Grace is my witness, I will do everything in my power to give you all a bright future...!  This I swear...


It was around this time she noticed he was fast asleep on her lap, sleep finally overtaking him.  And with the comfort of being the only conscious person awake in the village, she began to shed tears of her own over a very deep regret.


ALTA:  I just... Don't know how I can do it... 
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Sun Aug 02, 2015 2:57 am

Princess Alta of Appendicitia's Journal, 

Sunday, One 43rd, Year of Our Lady 6598,


I am too stricken by grief to write long tonight.  It was a beautiful blessed day where I have had more fun than I have ever had in years, and for that I am truly grateful for the kindness and enthusiasm of my people.  I love each and every one of them, and I wish them a long and prosperous life, one where this evil that hath befallen our land can be vanquished forever.

And yet... in the death of night... I heard the same low, moaning, rumbling sound from the Heavens the likes of which I had not heard since... before that terrible day.  Should we be attacked with that ferocity that destroyed our kingdom, I fear I will not be able to protect my people.  We are too few in numbers and far more fragile than ever...

But by Grace, I will do my best.  Whatever may happen, I would give my life for these younglings to have a good future, one free of fear and want, and full of nothing but pure love and devotion to Our Lady.  


May Our Lady of Grace watch over them all.  
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Fri Aug 07, 2015 2:08 am

The CS class is large enough to drown out any sound no louder than the professor's voice, but that didn't mean that the students adjacent to Grace couldn't hear the chorus of squeaks, groans and squirming coming out of her abdomen, inviting either stupid grins or callous looks of disdain for interrupting the lecture with her wayward bowels.  It didn't matter to them if she winced and grimaced with painful discomfort, and the overwhelming urge to dash out of the classroom; this was not the first time this had happened, nor would it be the last.  It seemed to be getting worse every year, and Grace was flabbergasted as to why she couldn't simply eat anything without getting a terrible case of the runs shortly after,... you know, like normal people.

Thankfully, no accidents had ever occured to date, although it was getting dangerously-close at the moment.  She was even more thankful that she was in college where she didn't have to raise her hand to excuse herself, as she could simply come and go as she pleased like an adult.

And leave she did much to the relief of her neighbors, and to only the brief rolling-eye annoyance of the professor in the middle of the lecture hall.  "Another weed outted", he thought to himself, knowing that in such a highly-competitive computer science class, even a momentary absence was fatal, and more so for a C-grade student.  But while Grace rushed hysterically across the hall, praying to reach the restroom alive and intact, her life seemed arguably more important than some grades for a class that pretty much killed her hobbyist passion for computers. 
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Wed Aug 12, 2015 11:53 pm

The distant sound that Alta had heard in the evening was now loud enough for all to hear in the morning.  As the soldiers and guards scrambled to pick up their bows and rifles, the townsfolk rushed to hide in every crevice, cellar and barricade they could find.  The children followed with them, often by force as many didn't want to leave their princess... they would cry in anguish at the unfamiliar sound, the frightening blur of activity, or for the older ones, the uncertainty that they would survive this latest attack.  Alta did her best to assuage their fears, but she scarcely had time to calm her own nerves as she hurried to direct commands to every able-bodied person equipped with a weapon, tool or nerve of steel.  


ALTA: PLEASE HURRY WITH THAT WALL!!  ITS NOT PROPERLY REINFORCED ON THIS SIDE!!!


SAPPER:  YES YOUR HIGHNESS!!!


ALTA: CAPTAIN!!!  ARE YOU SEEING ANYTHING COME ACROSS THE HORIZONS?!!!


CAPTAIN:  THE TOWER IS NOT SEEING ANY SIGNS OF HOSTILES!  I HAVE SENT SCOUTS TO PATROL BEYOND THE RIDGE, BUT IT WILL BE SOME TIME BEFORE WE CAN RECEIVE NEWS FROM THEM!


GUARD:  Milady.  It may be this thing may just pass us by.  The kingdom was too close to the frontier, so any beasts that appeared may not opt to travel all the way here.


ALTA:  I sure hope so.  For all our sake, I hope we're exaggerating our caution.


ALTA:  KEEP YOUR WEAPONS LOADED!!!  AND DON'T FIRE UNTIL YOU ARE SURE ANY MONSTERS HAVE DETECTED US!  


ALTA:  Please ready my foil....


GUARD:  Milady!


ALTA:  We can't wait for the mounted scouts to return.  I can scout ahead faster from the air.


GUARD:  The wind isn't favourable right now, Milady!


Alta strapped on her rifle and added some additional powder rounds to her chest holders.  She bit into a nice succulent piece of inulin pemmican,... an impromptu breakfast,... but she didn't have the time or calmness to enjoy it.  She put the rest of it away in her pouch, and sheathed her butanoatic shortsword as the last of her preparations.  Her guard tried one more time to convince her to belay the dangerous mission; moved by his earnest concerns, she hugged him dearly as a grateful pupil would to a dear mentor, and proceeded on with the mission.


ALTA:  I will return.  Please focus on keeping our people safe!


GUARD:  *salutes*  Gracespeed, Milady!!


After a furious running start outside the perimeter walls, Alta managed enough lift to descend into the air, although not without some turbulence.  A strong wind came from the Caecal mountains, so it was far from a smooth ride; but her determination managed a steady flight, even as her windbreaker helmet obfuscated some of her vision.  All around her were countless flying creatures in huge chaotic flocks flying away from the direction of the mountains, terrified of something and not willing to stay to see what it is.  Many were caught in the strong gusts of wind and either collided against their brethren or had their delicate wings torn or floating membranes torn; either scenario caused them to plummet to their deaths, which swelled Alta with a strong sense of sorrow for the innocent and fearful creatures.


Still she could not grieve for long as a great many nearly collided with her, and most of her attention would be spent evading the terrified flocks until she was forced to fly at a lower but more dangerous altitude.  At least she had less use for her helmet here, and so she lifted the visor to skin the horizons for anything abnormal.  


And she found nothing... all but a small black form in the distance, which she hesitated to get nearer until she made out the shape of a mounted Scout unit.  Eager to gain the Scout's attention, she increased speed to catch up to her, hoping to let her know that aerial help was around.  Only she wasn't riding towards the mountains, but away from it as well... and at a breakneck speed.  Alta was low enough to see a look of wild fear in the Scout's face, and it was with an ear-shattering noise that she could see why.  Right behind her, gaining speed with its many spindly legs, was an Escher... a normally shy omnivore, this one was soaked in the corruption of dark Gliadin, increasing its speed, strength and ferocity many times fold even as the foul unholiness ate the poor creatures body and mind from the inside out.


The Scout screamed as she desperately fired scattershot into its legs in the hopes of slowing it down... the creature roared in pain as about 10 of its legs evaporated to nothing, but in its place one massive appendage made from a chunk of its own lateral flesh ripped off and assumed the role of one large enormous foot, causing the black, evil creature to run with a bounding limp.  It was such a ghastly scene, the Scout's handles trembled as she attempted to reload another shot, and ended up scattering the mineral pellets into the ground.  Just as she realized her folly, the giant demon leaped at her and her stead with such power, that she could see images of her life flash by with alternating nightmares of the many dark fangs and tendrils aimed to destroy her.


Then a different sound tore her away from calm acceptance of her untimely death as the Escher's head blew into a thousand fragments, and the creature writhed back squealing in shock, its dark Gliadin trendrils flailing about seemingly looking for the lost head that did not exist.  She put enough distance away from it and managed to calm down enough to notice the flying shape in the sky accompanying her.  It was her princess, riding in that airfoil she always flew in, and dressed in her green field fatigues.  Her princess ejected from her longrifle a long empty casing, obviously the bombardment shot that she had used to save her life.


She signaled something with her hands.


ALTA:  [hand signal] A-R-E-Y-O-U-O-K-A-Y


SCOUT:  [hand signal] T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U


Regardless of their predicament or her own near death experience, the Scout was grateful to serve and protect such a caring and active leader who was not afraid to fight alongside them.  She charged on with renewed vigor and morale, tempered only by some cautious optimism.

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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by HannahChi on Thu Aug 13, 2015 5:42 pm

Wow this is really awesome so far Cia! I see you've had a lot of positive feedback, I see where this RP is going, I may join in sooner or later. Very Happy

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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ishida on Thu Aug 13, 2015 8:45 pm

Hmmm, color me interested! You have an intriguing premise with the story duality and I am certainly curious about the threat that looms over the realm of Princess Alta... I'm definitely going to keep an eye on this story!

Although the play-esque dialogue format doesn't quite have the complete elaboration that the traditional narrative can offer, it does speed things along nicely and keeps the pace going without focusing on unnecessary details. It'll be especially useful if/when the roleplaying windows appear.

Understandably, the colored text is for the sake formatting rather than anything else, but I can't help but wonder if the characters you particularly chose for them bears any symbolism... (methinks one of them could be a villain protagonist)

The only "real" criticism I might have is the use of the heart emoticon during dialogue; I feel as though it could be illustrated more by elaboration of facial expression and gestures. This is just nitpicking, of course.

I'm looking forward to seeing what your story has to offer!
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Re: The Visceral Saga

Post by Ciabatta on Thu Aug 13, 2015 10:08 pm

Oh Lol, I honestly didn't realize I typed in the heart emoticon anywhere... I bet i did it purely out of force-of-habit.  XD


Just like "XD". XD


Thank you so much, ishida-kun! ^^


[and as for color symbolism... hmmm.... well not consciously, might have been done sub-consciously, yes] ^^;

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Re: The Visceral Saga

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