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Found 8 results

  1. danzilla3

    A Steady Hand

    Sheriff's in Lunaris didn't tend to last long. After five previous holders of the job had all disappeared, nobody in town was keen to volunteer for the job. It had become something of an inside joke among the locals that the governor wouldn't appoint anyone to the position because there was no one in town he wanted dead that much. For a time things worked out. But now that Lunarian law enforcement was getting more serious, it was time to have someone qualified on the job. Sebastian knew just the man for the job. Currently he was sitting in the dilapidated building that was the Sheriff's office, leaning against a heavy wooden desk. He was waiting for Aveline Singlance to arrive, as well as their new Sheriff. @notmuch_23 @Csl
  2. They had travelled the deep road. Yes, there was the highway. The road that stretched across the land to link their two cities. But the lord Téshuk had insisted against. It was not the way, he had told them, meaning both the literal form of passage, but also the means in which their task was to be done. Their task one that was quite suddenly arranged, at the Governor of Totenborough had realised that 'the time' was upon them, but that his subjects knew nothing of it, nor that they should prepare. But with only weeks to go, they had managed it. Though with all their load to take through the tunnel that led up to the Hydra Scar, and then from there travel westward unto the breach of Lunaris, that was itself another few days of travel. Téshuk had led all the way throughout, clearing by his will any path that could not so easily take the carriages and carts. There was however, a realisation that this was itself part of the tradition - that he and he alone must lead the way. Even when they stopped to rest at nights, measured only by the clock than by sunlight, Téshuk still held himself at the forefront, nor did he slumber; vigilant in his duties as he was able to be. But yes, they had travelled the deep road, and from it emerged, a long caravan that itself stretched for many hundreds of metres, loaded with many goods and decorations. When they arrived at the treetop city, its homes cut from and built into the woodland that surrounded and ran throughout it, there was only one moment of pause, taken by Teshuk to process it all. How the world truly was different and changed from as it had been, however long ago it was that he stood among the living. Still, he willed his entourage on, and they made their way through the streets. The sheer physical stature of Téshuk, along with his presence, and the length of the caravan behind him, drew curious and expectant eyes from all around. Many, sat high within their homes, were content to look down upon and distantly observe the passing, able to follow it for miles with but slight turns of the head. For others, the only way to follow the procession was to do so physically, trailing along behind it. This then only made the crowd grow ever greater, as it became something of novelty and curiosity for those whose days who had become accustomed to outside intrusion representing malice and threat, rather than mystery and fun. They wondered where this giant had come from, and where he was going with all this bounty. The former could answered through whispers that fluttered through the crowd: This was Téshuk, Governor of Totenborough, the esteemed and mysterious Titan himself! But as for the reason of his presence, that remained utterly unknown, and his servants would not share it. That too, was apparently part of the tradition. The procession, caravan and crowd both, swept through the city, heading north west. Téshuk ran his fingers along the vines that raced towards their summit, coating the ancient walls of Cair Loeren. Through them, he made a summons. An act that might have seemed impudent, but it was meant to be bold; in truth as well, he saw little distinction in rank between him and the one he summoned. But as such messages are scarcely hidden in Lunaris, it whipped the crowd into a frenzy. How could he? How DARE he?! Did he not know to whom he spoke?! Yet still, they followed, and Téshuk went. They stopped all at once before withered steps, and before the one who espoused to be lord and master of all the realm. One who had been wounded, yet lived as Téshuk did not. A small being, yet perhaps the only one here who might stand larger than the Titan. The Titan who snapped his fingers, and so beckoned two of his followers to bring up a long chest; from their fingers it lifted, being made of stone, and by Téshuk's will, came to rest at the Regent's feet. The stone that sealed it shut slid away, and revealed within, along a bed of silk, two rings - one of ruby laid in silver, and another of sapphire in gold. Let us be as one. Was the sentiment that came from Téshuk; his will without spoken word. It may have a taken to process, but then, his will clarified that he meant the cities, not him and the Regent as individuals. It would be in the union of cities that they would mark the year anew; the start of new opportunities, and the start of new - or renewed - love. As was tradition. With its confirmation, so would Téshuk's caravan begin their adornment of the city. Shades and filters for the wickblooms that turned their natural light into many colours and shapes. Gifts to the children of the city, a foundation on which they might build new directions and new interests to follow for the year, and perhaps keep with them the rest of their lives. Craftsmen of all arts would share their works, and the skills with which they made them, with the people of the city, gifting these to all - that chose to afford them - rather than just the children. Once each week, for four weeks, as the necessary supplies arrived, there would be a great feast held at the heart of the city, sharing what delicacies and tastes the people of Totenborough had kept from the old world, and what they had discovered in the new. As the people ate then, they would expected to take their loves in hand - whether desired or already held - and dance, promising to each other the prosperity of a new year. Some might have labelled it a festival, but Téshuk did not seem to understand the concept so. Rather to him, this was what this time of year was for. New Beginnings, New Love, and Renewal. Built on the bond of the land, as was tradition. This was, as he spoke audibly but once, with voice like stone grinding upon stone, Wosatnos.
  3. The citizens of Lunaris are piiiiised! Even though jungle pigs have invaded Taen a long time ago, the native carnivores have kept their numbers in check. Recently, their population exploded, and their war with the zkriz'ka population spilled over into Lunaris. Now, a crowd of citizens surround the City Hall, shouting at the government. "Those fucking pigs ravaged my pasture!" "They ate my whole garden!" "They killed my baby!" "We can't go outside safely!" Then one person starts a chant. "Pigs out now! Pigs out now! Pigs out now!" As chants normally do, this one also catches on with the surrounding people. "PIGS OUT NOW! PIGS OUT NOW! PIGS OUT NOW!" It isn't long until the entire crowd is chanting "PIGS OUT NOW! PIGS OUT NOW! PIGS OUT NOW! PIGS OUT NOW! PIGS OUT NOW! PIGS OUT NOW! PIGS OUT NOW! PIGS OUT NOW! PIGS OUT NOW! PIGS OUT NOW!" @danzilla3
  4. It had been a hard couple of months, training in law enforcement, cramming in Veluriyam and Lunaran law, proper police procedures, and whatnot, including actually instructing others in firearm use and combat, including basic marksmanship, reflex exercises, basic tactics, and a very basic primer on booby traps, since she can easily imagine criminals setting them for cops. These were mainly who would be other leaders in the Lunarian Protectorate. While Aveline wasn't picked to be sheriff, thanks to her lack of law enforcement experience, overabundance of combat experience, and deep mistrust of law enforcement (which she ended up projecting onto others), she was chosen to lead the Special Operations Squad. While the initial LP academy wasn't that bad, Aveline is leading the squad that will respond to situations more dangerous than the rest of the force can handle, and she envisions even other jurisdictions calling on her squad to respond to apprehensions of dangerous suspects, hostage situations, heavy shootouts, beasts too dangerous for the hunters, and even special operations missions for the Veluriyam Imperial armed forces. Thus, she's going to train her squad to be Delta Force Ranger SeAL OSS Spetsnaz Mossad Green Beret enforcers of law, order, and peace anywhere the Veluriyam Empire needs them. There's a problem though... ...Aveline has never really extensively trained anybody to this extent. So she's going to need to develop a training plan and regimen, mainly by doing it herself first. Thus we're at this point: Aveline is running around the entirety of Lunaris in full long-range combat gear and a 40-pound armor system.
  5. Adime sat down at the bar. The pub he found after stumbling about Banyan square, in sight but not reach of the eponymous tree. "Here's the game I want to play." Adime addressed the bartender apropos of nothing as the bartender just happened to be passing by. “I call it 'the tritone ladder'. Nice name right? What it basically means is you give me a shot of your bottom shelf liquor, then a shot of your middle shelf, then the top shelf. Then we do it again, moving on down the line, until at the end of the night you and I have collaborated on a fucking symphony." Adime slammed his hand on the countertop, revealing the glimmer of gold when he took it away. The pause between the two events gave one the impression that Adime had a flair for the dramatic, and he did, but this was more about the split-second of confusion that came with seeing a hand that wasn't his attached to an arm that wasn't his, and so on. He had to prompt himself into remembering that this was a borrowed body, that even the body against which he compared this body was a borrowed body. He wasn't really Adime, and Adime wasn't really a person; he was just a splinter of a splinter. It was a half hour of this, a stream of shots interrupted by the occasional order of chicken wings and fried cheese sticks; this was not a man who intended to live a very long life, by the looks of it.
  6. Aveline got back from that whole noble house bullshit she left early just a couple days ago, and since then she's been putting the finishing touches on Lithist O'Malley's new treehouse, connected by a rope suspension bridge to the Mil Dot Lunaris. In all the activity in Ursa Madeum, she never really had the time to stop and take a good look at Lunaris. The latest rough population count put the place at around two million. Two million! When she got here, there was no more than a few hundred here after the hydra attack, and soon after, their house was only a 350-square-foot box in a tree. Now Lunaris is a proper city, and the Mil Dot is still the only place around with mechanical refrigeration for both perishables in the kitchen, and the rest of the building, and in the high heat and humidity of the jungle, it is nice. The thing that most surprises Aveline is that even though the city has exploded in size, the only buildings close are the Mil Dot/her house the Morrisons' house, and Lithist's new treehouse. All of Lunaris' residental and commercial expansion happened east, and even the agricultural lands around this little cluster form a wiiiiiide crescent around, as if nobody else wants to settle anywhere close to the Singlances, or actively want to isolate them. But there's a problem... ...electrical demand is getting dangerously close to generation capacity. With a growing population comes growing patronage, which requires the air conditioner to run much longer, and it was already their biggest consumer if electricity. They could set up more solar panels, but at this rate, they'll need to put a panel roof over Lunaris to meet their near-future electrical needs. They'll need something bigger. @SteamWarden
  7. I have seen This wouldn't be her first time to die. What was death, but the cessation of one's existence? And what was existence but the collection of one's memory and experience taken as a whole? Rozharon Parálios, was only the most recent iteration of her--- Thaumelin. It was one existence out of many, and many of those past lives had ceased to be. She collected their remnants like storybooks, learning from each lifetime. Growing. Changing. Refining the techniques she used to carry out her creator's commands. This time would be different. CAIR LOEREN, TAEN "You'll be having a sister." Rozharon delivered the news over breakfast. Her sons had made pancakes, which she had said were delicious, which had pleased them. Pallas and Lenore froze, forks held halfway to their open mouths. Two clinks broke the silence as they laid the forks down. "But why?" they asked, in the tone of those accustomed to unsatisfactory answers. Rozharon felt their emotions as her own. They were curious. They were confused. They were hurt. (Why another? Aren't we enough?) And yet, their trust in her overshadowed every doubt. They were expectant, even excited. "You'll see later," Rozharon said, and hoped events would align in a way that would mean she had told the truth. For her truth, for this moment, was that she needed someone to take her place. Rozharon stood, moving to the door. Her sons followed, leaving the breakfast half-eaten. The castle would take care of it. The building was a peculiar thing, one of the remnants of Taen's ancient peoples. Rooms moved and shifted as they pleased, doorways led into all the wrong places, and Pallas had given up trying to make a floor plan. Cair Loeren was alive, in a sense. They were lucky it had taken to them; apart from the occasional prank, the castle served their needs. It responded to their requests, providing food, drawing baths, and attending to guests. More useful was the option to travel quickly within it. The castle read Rozharon's intent as she turned the doorknob. Instead of a hallway, they exited into the garden.
  8. Photo by Dardan on Unsplash As funerals for royalty went, it would be a simple affair. The setting: a vine-draped castle north of Lunaris, one built in the same place Titus had slumbered for over a year, enclosed in the magic of Taen. Symbolic. The ceremony: held in one of the castle wings, an open hall lined with ivy-twined stone pillars that led out into a vast garden. The coffin was set where the stretch of marble columns ended, framed against the lush, wild greenery outside. Pale sunlight filtered through the spaces between the pillars, onto rows of pews for the guests. Afterwards: within the castle wing, opposite the outdoor hall, a room was set aside with food and drink for the guests: a place for the guests to linger, should they wish. Some - many, perhaps - would weep at the news. The Emperor of Taen, now Veluriyam, was a figure of legend. The image of him the citizens of Taen held in their minds was one of a just, righteous king. Perhaps the same could be said of the commoners in Ursa Madeum, so far removed they were from the squabblings of the nobility. Rozharon stood before the coffin (wood that gleamed like copper, intricately carved, left open), wreathed in black, hands clasped behind her back. People flowed inside the hall, coming down the stairs up in twos and threes, settling on the pews. Her back to them, she read their lips. She read the creases on their faces, the glint of tears, the redness of eyes. Titus had been respected (loved) by those he’d worked with, generals and governors, mages and doctors, friends and allies near and far. Perhaps many would weep. Rozharon would not. It wouldn't be too unexpected, considering the persona she'd woven. Those who had come to know her in the short time she'd walked this realm would expect nothing less. A solemness in her speech. A heaviness in her gestures. A dullness in her gaze. These subtle signs would be enough to suggest grief, and the world would be none the wiser. Her sons knew better, though. Pallas and Lenore mingled with the guests, exchanging greetings and accepting condolences. Rozharon knew she disturbed them sometimes, when the mask slipped and they caught glimpses of the way she regarded the world. Somehow, this bothered her. It would've been easy to mend the cracks, present them a perfect image of a loving mother: one that mourned and laughed and hated. That this image would be a lie didn't matter to her. But it would matter to them. Something to address later. When it was time, she left the coffin, exchanged greetings with those in vicinity, and sat at the front row. Her twins joined her on either side. A Gaian priest officiated the ceremony, one who’d been among the first wave of Terrans who had left their land found a home in Taen. He’d been there when the hydra attacked Lunaris. Had watched Titus strike down the beast. Had pledged his loyalty to an emperor seen and heard, one who fought for his people instead of sitting idly while monsters and men burned town and village alike. The priest was an appropriate choice, considering the melting pot of cultures that was their empire. Most of Taen's citizens were Gaianists. Her knowledge of funeral rites from Angel City, Titus' birthplace, was limited (he had been banished, after all), and Rozharon had no culture of her own to speak of. Rozharon settled back as the priest began speaking: of honoring life, not mourning of death. Of how death was an inevitability that claimed all. Of how all stories would end, eventually, but that what held meaning was the life lived beforehand. Snippets from Gaian scripture. A summary of the late Emperor’s life. The Empress kept only a fraction of her attention on the speech. Teresa was still missing. She busied herself reviewing the areas she’d covered, the wind currents at the time of her disappearance, ocean currents, the worldrift portals, possible places her daughter may have gone. Useless. The answer eluded her. Rozharon returned her awareness to the present. Ah. Time for eulogies. The Empress sat back to listen. @vielle @Thotification @notmuch_23 @danzilla3 @Twitterpated @Fierach @Aleksei @Tyler @Deus Ex Aizen @Roen @jaistlyn
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