fuzzehpolarbear
Serf
- Local time
- Today 4:29 AM
- Messages
- 10
- Age
- 38
- Pronouns
- She / Her
Who are you, how long have you been writing, what do you like to write?
I'm Sarah, and I have been writing forever. Nearly 30 years, I would approximate. I write all kinds of gunk, whatever spews out of my ears after being chewed on by my brain. Then eventually I go, "No no no!" and delete all of it. Good times! I do the same thing with saved games, if it's been long enough since I've been back to a game, it all gets cleared and we start again, like a phoenix from the ashes.
How long do your replies tend to be and what is your writing schedule like?
Reply length will vary heavily depending on how much is going on in any given scene, and how far ahead I've planned the given scenario. Once upon a time, I was pretty excellent at matching my partner's post length. I'm still probably pretty good at it. I'm around quite a bit, and can just about guarantee some posting on Monday-Friday. On weekends I will try to get to you as often as I can, but availability will be chaotic.
What is your tolerance level for gore? Violence?
I'm a horror roleplayer deep down, so gore is part of the whole thing. That said, I subscribe to pre-2020 movie levels of violence, in that while you may lose a whole squad of NPCs suddenly and horribly, it won't be like watching a surgery video in that I won't describe it to the point where you start to feel a little ill. Has anyone noticed movies doing SO MUCH of that now? Yikes!
Do you write sexual content? If so, what are your kinks? Limits?
That's not really what I'm here for. No shade, I remember it being VERY fun back in the day, but I'm here for the shared storytelling experience, and to squeeze the gunk out of my brain like a horrible lemon. That said, as far as romance (which is a must, cuddles are the best) goes, I'm pretty open. As long as everyone is consenting and of the appropriate age, I'm cool with siblings or monsters or whatever falling in love. Who doesn't want to cuddle Mothman just a little bit? Let me know if you have a thing, and I'll do my best to make sure the thing makes its way into the story! Oh, speaking of which, doubling was big last time I was roleplaying. If that's still something folks are interested in, I'm happy to do so for you. Haven't been in that headspace for a while, but I lived in it for long enough that if I hum a few bars I should be able to catch the tune. I always try to leave room for preference-based OCs. I won't massage your uh, whatever, but let me massage your brain and you won't regret it.
Do you write any fandoms? (Please bear in mind that any characters under 18 and any high school settings must be aged up)
I once wrote a Star Wars roleplay that genuinely freaked out my friend Matthew, and I'm proud of that. At this point I don't really DO fandoms though, so much as they become subsumed and turn into part of the Dead Worlds, like a single twitching arm haphazardly stitched to an abomination with 29 other arms, all from different creatures.
Do you have any pairing or setting ideas?
Do you have any detailed plots prepared?
Do you have any characters you want to write? (Our character forum is here if you want a dedicated thread)
Alright, here's the recruitment thread itself! I'm extracting it piecemeal from where it's already been created, and polishing it as it comes in, so there may be some corners missing, and watch your step over by the gap.
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This is a quick rundown on the Dead Worlds universe, which is a framing device I've become fond of, which the following plots at least orbit around. While there's a nice mix of genres, in the "main" universe, it's sci-fi, 24xx. Your standard corporate run hell-future. Rural areas are all but abandoned, both officially and unofficially, with anybody living outside of city limits basically being nomads or homesteaders under full lawlessness, running on salvaged or stolen technology, often hundreds of years behind what's available in the nearest city.
The two major factions of note at the beginning of the timeline are the TDI and the GDU. The TDI are officially a technology company which manufactures robots meant for combat and "urban pacification". Nearly every other major power, corporate or political, relies on these bots. Along with an elite "problem solving" force colloquially referred to as the Devil 9 (think SOLDIER from Final Fantasy 7, similar vibes), reliance on their robots put TDI in a place where they are essentially untouchable. TDI are Tarz Draconis Incorporated, and GDU are The Gravediggers Union.
The GDU is a not-so-secret society that splits their focus between fighting the TDI, helping the people the TDI have abandoned, and dealing with the wacky shit that goes down in a world where interdimensional travel has become possible (I know it's a cliché at this point, but to be fair, Earth SUCKS, so, isekai forever! <3).
The ability to open interdimensional gateways is known only to select members of the TDI, most of the GDU, and a few really unlucky civilians who stumble into a dark cave through a portal and get eaten by a Grue. The process requires specific technology which the TDI produces in secret, so a lot of what a new GDU recruit does is run raids on TDI warehouses to steal said tech.
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Salted Earth (named after the town it takes place in), has a sort of spoopy Stardew Valley vibe. Salted Earth is meant to be mentally detoxifying, and will be hardcore cozy with a little hidden object game mysteriousness and romanceable monsters (and humans, if that's your thing). The cast of characters will start small (you'll meet the mayor and one other resident immediately) and probably end up HUGE. Safe mode is on, and no deaths are planned. Oh, and you don't have to be a farmer, we can slot any profession in, or no profession.
Esponja Grande has a slightly more mysterious, high strangeness vibe, but is still quite cozy. Your character wakes up on a high fantasy beach without their memory, next to a massive yellow sea sponge (thus the name), and will almost immediately be pulled into intrigue by a beautiful enchantress. Between intrigues, your character will have the opportunity to make interdimensional deliveries to worlds both dead and living. The initial cast of characters will mostly be the enchantress contact and your character's co-workers, but will slowly expand as she meets people. There may be an NPC death or two depending on where things go.
Horrible Goblin Band rates a 5/10 on the horror-o-meter, and has a leaning toward medieval fantasy. Your character is part of a GDU restabilization team. These teams help with resettlement in various ways. Specifically, your character is part of the first civilian resettlement team to the Wyster Valley since the GDU wrested control of a small part of it from something that they kind of glossed over in the report, but they assure your character that she'll probably be safe as long as she doesn't go out after dark, and sticks to the inn and the center of town. Though plenty of positions were available, being a member of the band at the inn had the most favorable combination of safety and perks, and anything is better than the place your character just came from (up to you why they wanted to leave, which can literally just be "this town is lame AF", which I feel like is the beginning of a lot of great stories). Initial cast will be the innkeeper and your bandmates, one goblin drummer (who was the first to sign up, and got to name the band, which is why it's called Horrible Goblin Band), a human violinist, and another GDU member whose nature will change depending on if you want me doubling or not. Don't get too attached to the NPCs (especially the ones on the dive team), but the party itself will probably be fine.
Dancing In The Graveyard takes place in the main Dead Worlds universe, beginning in the megacity of Kudzu. While making a visit to the local cemetery to visit a dead relative, your character is mistaken for a member of the GDU by a TDI commander, who sics his bots on her. Your character manages to evade and destroy a couple of them, but eventually ends up cornered, only to be fortuitously saved by the actual GDU which was in fact meeting in that very graveyard that very evening. The Keeper, impressed by the fact that an unarmed civilian was able to hold their own for a while against TDI killbots, recruits her on the spot. The cast will include individuals from all up and down the GDU's power structure, at least one member of the Devil 9 will certainly show up, and who knows who'll end up drifting in from the Dead Worlds? NPC deaths are promised, and depending on where things go, your character may be the only member of the main cast left standing.
No Trains To Granite plays like latter Resident Evil media (though I can't vouch for Requiem 'cause ya girl is broke and hasn't played it yet). As the story opens, the GDU's command structure has fully collapsed. The leader saw it coming, and ordered various detachments out on contingency missions, to essentially recreate the GDU after its full destruction. Your character and two other members of the GDU are one such detachment, sent by train to the town of Granite (and the tracks fall apart behind them, thus the name), which suffered a bio-supernatural disaster hundreds of years previous and is mostly overrun with the products of your standard fully insane, human-hating druid. And it was pretty crazy before that! But there's also an old GDU facility there, which could theoretically be used to start a new chapter, and desperate times call for desperate measures. There are a few non-hostile beings still hiding out in Granite, along with the primary cast of three. No Train To Granite takes place in the darkest timeline, and there may be no survivors.
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Plot: Esponja Grande
Homeworld Status: In flux (Worlds in flux have deities whose status is unknown, and thus they cannot be properly classified as a "living" or "dead" world).
Appearance: Other than the enchantress and her mysterious benefactor, no one is really sure what Siren Gala looks like. She's constantly in a dress that distorts her proportions in one way or another, and always wearing a mask. If it weren't for the fact that it's the same mask every time, a sort of Phantom of the Opera situation that makes her look like she's wearing another face just on top of her face, you'd never be able to tell it was her.
Home: Siren lives in Gala Castle, which hosts a literally constant party for anyone who might like to attend at any time, although she herself tends to disappear at about 10 in the evening, and not show back up again until around dawn. Rumor has it that those willing to challenge the shifting maze on the front of the property during those hours may hear her singing, though it's also said that the song will bring about a crushing depression that lasts for days, which is why she doesn't particularly like to be called "Siren", and why she only sings in the depths of the maze out of sight of the sun.
The maze itself has been enhanced by the magic of the realm far beyond a simple hedge arrangement, and there's really no telling what one will encounter once they're inside. As with everywhere else in the realm, it's bafflingly safe despite what should definitely be deadly hazards, but can be highly frustrating and confusing to the unprepared, especially in the dark. On the side of the lawn opposite the maze, a number of pools are nearly always splashing with guests, the winds of magic keeping the temperatures just right for the moment, whatever that moment might be, and prompt deliveries keeping patrons as toasted as they might like to be on umbrella and coconut drinks.
Fireworks constantly pop and fizzle, regardless of the time of day, over what could easily be a big old Victorian hotel, almost all moss and windows, with spires that would be menacing in any other situation, but in this case just gently caress the sky as colors burst behind them. On the inside, there are many lush rooms with many different themes, but always a jovial atmosphere, like Rose Red if instead of trying to kill you, it just wanted you to pop down and enjoy some champagne and cake.
Though the front lawn and home itself are kept very well, the back yard has been all but retaken by nature, and The Lady Gala encourages guests not to wander too far into it. Some of those who have done so anyway confirm that there's "something back there", but are tight-lipped as to what, and suggest you don't try and find out. Whether you take that as good advice and stick to the party inside, or decide to sneak out and go see where that jaunty tune is coming from, is up to you.
Being: The Lady Gala is bright, cheery, and welcoming, like her home. She wants to know if you're having a good time, and if not, how she can help you have a good time. She wants to know how you are, and if you aren't doing well, she wants to know how she can help you feel better. She doesn't enjoy talking about herself, and will assure her guests that "she's fine", and that's about it, generally disappearing with gentle apologies into a crowd of party-goers if anyone should try and get to know her beyond simple pleasantries. There's certainly more to her; anyone with a trained eye can see as much in speaking with her, but thus far no one has been able to attain those specifics. Those who've managed to get her to sit still long enough to try generally end up in something like a drinking contest they have no way of winning (without giving too much away, Siren doesn't exactly have a liver), and wake up the next day on a posh couch covered in a warm blanket, comfy, but hungover, and with no additional information.
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Name: Jenk (Singular names are a tradition of Jenk's homeworld, where goblins also eschew titles. It can get confusing in large populations, which is one of the reasons Jenk signed up for a GDU resettlement team. Too many Jenks in the kitchen spoils the broth.)
Plot: Horrible Goblin Band
Homeworld Status: Dead (A group of highly intelligent draconics inhabiting Jenk's homeworld slew that world's deity not long after its creation, and the sapient species of the world have ruled over themselves in relative peace ever since).
Appearance: Jenk is three and a half feet tall, and quite muscular for a goblin due to his profession. He has aquamarine skin, dark gray hair in a small scraggly circle, and his eyes are a cloudy emerald green. Jenk doesn't particularly care for clothing, but has noted that most species seem to insist upon it, and so keeps a baggy, airy shirt, and a pair of pants that are mostly pockets and really only held in place by a belt that's twice as long as it needs to be, double-wrapped around his waist.
Home: While Jenk is happy to talk about the world he came from, he doesn't like to dwell too much on it. "I ain't goin' back, anyway." He describes a world where goblins and draconics share a society, how he lived in a burgeoning goblin colony built into the side of an arid canyon, how there were no less than 7 Jenks in said colony. Now, he lives in a room above The Waterline Inn, one of the oddly posh perks of an otherwise fairly dangerous job. The Waterline, along with basically the whole village surrounding it, was fully leveled during the local population's revolution against their deity.
The rebuilt inn is the only public space in the area, currently, and constantly has beings in one door and out the other. A large, powerful generator sits behind the structure, providing it and the entire resettlement operation with electricity. Though many of the timbers are original, things like the kitchen have been modernized to better serve resettlement efforts (there's even an ice machine, although soda keeps running out). Speaking thereof, the kitchen never seems to close, and the scent of food drifts through the main hall and up into the rooms at all hours. The innkeeper and his wife, Brugo and Calla respectively, appear to take turns at the bar. There are also spirits enough to drown in, should one be so inclined, and after seeing what they see every day, many of the Waterline's visitors are so inclined.
The standard room has a single large bed, with surprisingly comfortable bedding, a few sticks of furniture, an armoire, and one window, which guests are encouraged to keep closed unless they're in the room and the sun is shining. Three stacked floors of these rooms can be accessed via two different sets of stairs from the main hall. Armed guards provide security 24/7 outside, and floodlights join them during the evening hours.
Being: Jenk suffers from a spiritual disease which causes him to remember every single life he has lived. This wouldn't be so bad, except that a lot of them have been pretty horrifying and ended very badly, and that's enough to make a little old goblin VERY paranoid. Luckily for Jenk, his goblin physiology allows him to enjoy the sorts of mushrooms that would be fully deadly to basically any other organism, and instead of dropping dead, he trips absolute goblin balls. It doesn't seem to stop the memories, as he's always mumbling weird stuff about people and things that aren't of this world, but at least it seems to make them sting a little less.
Jenk seems to always be both hungry and thirsty, which could either be a physiological thing or a "constantly taking magic mushrooms from one of the Dead Worlds" thing. Either way, if he's not on stage, or passed out in any corner of his room other than on the bed, you can find him at the bar, chatting up Brugo or Calla, whoever's cooking at the time. Outside of the paranoia, Jenk is actually very sweet, though since he's usually telling some horrifying story, or in the middle of a shroomy flashback, he can also be a SERIOUS bummer.
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(I now have a sample intro for Horrible Goblin Band! It is written in first person past tense, as I didn't yet know my partner's character name at the time of writing. Thus "you" is used in place of a character name for the purposes of the intro. I've assembled a great deal of both freeform and ttrpg content over the years, so I am comfortable in both third person past and first person present, and basically anywhere in between. Apologies in advance if my tense slips, but I do enough editing passes it shouldn't happen too often if at all.)
--Friday, August 31, 24xx, a GDU facility underneath Setter Cemetery, southwestern Kudzu City.--
For a place you literally had to climb down the dusty old stairs of a creepy crumbling crypt to get to, the GDU facility was surprisingly sterile. As a helpful Union member escorted you to where you were meant to be that day, you noticed you could even see your reflection in the tile floor. It seemed as if everyone to pass you (in their crisp, clean uniforms) had a smile and a nod to share, and you were repeatedly wished a "Happy portal day!" just about any time your escort mentioned you were part of a resettlement team.
Eventually, you were led beneath an archway marked "PORTAL ROOM", through which a great deal of commotion was taking place. GDU agents were packing a large variety of items into crates, closing the crates up, and stacking them on a platform near a large, complex looking machine. An enthusiastic young man saluted you, for some reason, and introduced himself as Earth Mover Govi. "Happy portal day! Please, follow me to the transport platform right over here, miss, ah... Piss and nails, I don't have your paperwork here for some reason, sorry about that. I remember you were entertainment division though, right? For the house band at the Waterline. Unless you're a singer, please make sure we have your instrument."
Earth Mover Govi seemed as if he was about to say something else when the sound of boots jogging on tile brought both of your attention to the arrival of a young woman through the portal room arch. The new arrival was wearing civilian clothing: a baggy, mostly black t-shirt with a pointy metal band logo on it that was all but impossible to read, the same chunky boots you'd seen almost everyone in the building wearing, and a fairly worn looking pair of blue jeans. In the right part of the city, she would be like a single drop of salty water in the ocean, but in the GDU facility, she was like a hot pink flamingo in an otherwise black and white movie.
As she drew closer, you quickly took note of the rest of her features. She was nearly six feet tall, with bright, curious brown eyes, mid back length hair to match her eyes, and the pale skin of someone who maybe didn't get out too much, or at least, didn't see the sun much. She flashed a wide smile. "Hi! Happy portal day!"
"Good morning, ma'am." Another salute from the Earth Mover. "You must be... You are... Oh, what the hell? Where's my paperwork? What am I even holding if it isn't the paperwork on our two jumpers? It's fine, it's fine. Both of you are in the band, I remember that much. I've done the rest of this enough I can do it from memory... Probably. If you aren't a singer, please make sure we have your instrument, and then hop over onto the platform please." The new girl closed the rest of the distance, coming to a stop on the platform just a few feet away, with another little smile.
"No instrument for me!" Her voice wasn't quite what one expected of a singer, but considering the scuttlebutt you'd heard about the band's drummer and his magic mushroom habit, it was going to be a bit of a disaster either way. Hopefully there weren't a lot of rotten tomatoes on the other side of the portal.
"Alright. A lot of this was probably covered between orientation and now, these are just last minute checks and re-checks. Mover Denadi, how are our supplies looking? You about done?"
"Seven minutes on supplies!" came a call from one of the men running supplies to crates.
"Perfect. Alright, so the portals are open the last Friday of every month for what equates to about half an hour on that end, and a little more or a little less on this end, depending. On what? We're still figuring that out. But the good news is, the discrepancy doesn't seem to be dangerous. Operations are carried out based on the local time on the other side of the portal, so make sure you have someone or something to keep the time with, are keeping track of the what day it is, etcetera. To ensure minimal bleedthrough of potentially hostile native species, and preserve supplies of catalytic devices, this will be the only time the portal is open during any given month. There is emergency protocol in place only if something major is happening. Only your site leader, or acting site leader, should the need arise, is authorized to send an emergency evacuation request." What Earth Mover Govi wouldn't say, although he did know, was that in very, very rare cases, depending on the nature of the 'something major' that was happening on the far side, the corresponding portal might never be opened again. The dimensional coordinates would be blacklisted, and anyone still on the far side was damned, damnatio memoriae. That fact, of course, wasn't exactly 'on the pamphlets', but if you were a portal tech, you ended up knowing things, and drinking a lot of coffee, and trying your best not to let the jumpers see that you were deeply concerned for their wellbeing. Because 'they were going to be fine'!
The Earth Mover continued. "Because we only open the portal once a month, it's very important to get any supply requests in as soon as you can. Try and think about supplies two months ahead. If you want to get someone a terrestrial Christmas present, you'd have to request it by the end of October, we'd source it here and have it to you by the end of November, so you can deliver it to the intended recipient by December 25. Christmas is December 25th, the portal doesn't open until December 31st. I'm making a big deal about it because it gets missed a lot, and folks get... Grumpy about it. Believe me when I say there have been requests to change it, just for December, but both Keepers refuse, for whatever reason, so we're sort of at a standstill there. Also, while you can request absolutely anything, we can't guarantee we can bring it through on time, or at all. We'll do our best, I'd say we're able to fulfill roughly eighty-five percent of requests, at least half of them on time, but especially if it involves logistics between multiple worlds, or is something really rare or dangerous, it may be denied. I would suggest having backup requests ready for anything more exotic than a pomegranate... Maybe for pomegranates, too. What else...?"
Govi began flipping through the many papers attached to his clipboard. Your new traveling companion gave you another subtle smile, and quietly mimed the phrase 'nice to meet you'. Govi found his place. "Right, chain of command. Chain of command is a very big deal on this side of the portal, but once you're in the valley, things will be a bit looser. You should still know your contacts. Under normal circumstances, your site leader will be Calla..." He squinted, ran through it once in his head. "...Popovici. She and her husband Brugo are the innkeepers at the Waterline Inn. I would try and find one of them as soon as you arrive, they'll be able to give you a better report about what's been going on in-world than we'd be able to give you here. They'll also be able to help you file the supply requests I mentioned earlier. I would suggest you also route any security requests through your site leader, but if you can't do that for some reason, the on-site security chief is Blake Carol. If both parties are unavailable, your final security contact, is uh... Definitely not Jenk, who was...?" Papers, papers, papers.
"Um, that was me, actually." Your traveling companion spoke up, and immediately whipped into a sort of 'musclehunk flexing on the beach' pose, kissing a bicep that fully was not there after holding for a moment. It was cute, if you were so inclined, but it definitely wasn't intimidating anyone.
"Oh, that's... That's perfect, actually. Portal openings are always a little stressful, every extra bit of security is welcome. One more thing for chain of command. Ecaterina Bejenari is technically overseeing operations in the Wyster Valley. If you were particularly lucky, she might have also been your interviewer when you joined up with the GDU, and you probably remember her popping up a time or two during your onboarding process. Yeah, Cat does a lot around here, doesn't like to sit still, thank the powers for that. Anyway, if she shows up on-site, she immediately assumes control of local operations. Don't worry, someone will let you know. Same as if a Keeper shows up, someone will shout 'Keeper on deck!', and then you salute in the same direction everyone else is saluting and wait for orders. Since band members are technically civilian postings, you are expected to prioritize safety over emergency response. If something should happen, you are officially ordered to flee immediately to the nearest safe location and inform security, then wait until someone in authority declares the danger has passed. Amphira asked that I emphasize that point, and she's a Keeper, so again, chain of command. Between you and me, though, there are probably ten automatic rifles for every sapient being in the valley, and we can't seem to get them enough soda, but they're sitting on a stockpile of ammunition. My very unofficial recommendation is that you ask Blake to arm you, and drill with one of those rifles until you're comfortable with it, as soon as possible. No one is actually going to be mad at you for picking up a gun and defending your outpost. But you didn't hear that from me, ok? I told you to do the safe thing, and only the safe thing."
"Hey Govi, we're go on supplies here! We're out, they need us in the aeronautics bay, catch you later, right?"
"Roger that Denadi, don't forget to catch a break, too! See you soon! Alright you two, it's show time. Oh, wait, one more thing, one more thing. Where were they?" Govi's eyes shot around the room, until something seemed to occur to him, and then he sped over to a nearby large, metal, console-desk thing, which appeared to have something to do with the portal device. Bending down, he retrieved a couple of gray umbrellas from under the reflective furniture, returning to hand one to each of the interdimensional travelers. "I only get readings from here, I haven't been to the valley, but I have come to understand that it hasn't stopped raining in the months frontier crews have been stabilizing the area, so you'll be wanting those. Ah, and actually, one more important thing to know, it's really the last thing this time. We know how to open the portals, and we're working on what exactly goes on between 'this end' and 'that end', but we don't have a full understanding of precisely 'where' you are when you're moving through the portal. We know that very little time elapses on the ends of the portal, but those moving through have reported... Some stuff. Audiovisual hallucinations, a sensation of time 'stretching', very rarely someone will come through with a story about how they were displaced for what felt like a few days, in various unusual locations, in situations where only seconds had passed on the input and output ends of the portal. I've never lost anyone." The GDU had definitely lost people down portals, but so far, Earth Mover Govi's jumpers had been lucky.
A heavily armed security team had begun gathering almost as soon as the supply runners had gone, setting up in various posts around the portal chamber, including on an elevated catwalk that appeared to have no other purpose. All weaponry was pointed directly at what looked like it would be the portal opening, an unassuming enough metal hoop maybe thrice the thickness of a hula hoop, though significantly larger, and half-buried in the floor. The Earth Mover jogged over to the console he'd been storing the umbrellas under, and began to press buttons and throw levers, speaking into a small microphone which projected his voice throughout the chamber. "Far end readings stable, engaging internal power supply, running local program. Preparing for drone insertion. Drone team, if you would please." A very large drone was slowly flown into the middle of the ring as the portal platform vibrated ever so slightly. "Running last minute checks... End to end responsive... Catalytic chip responsive... Section one is clear... Section two is clear... Section three is clear... One moment, something's blocking up section four, need to clear out all the channels to make sure we don't get any 'weird noise'... There. Pretty sure that's got it." Your traveling companion looked over and gave you an exaggerated look of concern at the 'pretty sure', but didn't have time to do much more than that.
"Alright, section five is clear, the chip is receiving on all channels! Safe travels! Drone ops, hit it!" The hovering drone collapsed in the blink of an eye, blooming quickly into a blue radiance that stretched to the edges of the metal hoop. "Engaging transport conveyor!" The floor underneath your feet jerked for just a moment, before slowly dragging you, your traveling companion, and many crates worth of supplies, toward, and through, the glowing mass.
--No chrono-geographical data available.--
A rainbow of colors dancing on black and white. You tried to rub the 'oil' out of your eyes, but it wouldn't leave, for... How long? Hard to say. Then, a landscape of stone on stone, darkness, lightning from dark, billowing clouds. Two figures of impossible size moved amongst the inhospitable mountains far beyond, appearing and disappearing as forks of lightning rained from above. A cave, a fire, pain. Cold... Darkness gathering... Heart beating in your ears... Breathing shallow... Fighting... Fighting... Losing...? Frigid, chattering cold... Is that... The ocean...?
Shadows in the dark. Back to finish what they started? No... You recognize that shadow. You...?
A voice you'd not heard before. "The giants will be back. You two, I need him mobile, yesterday. You, head outside, stay hidden. If anything starts coming this way, alert me immediately. I'm sorry for the amount of pain you're about to be in... But I'll be here the whole time. Hold my hand... Squeeze as hard as you need to."
A jolt of pain ripped you away, a scream echoed somewhere far, far off, getting further every moment. Somewhere in infinity, your physical body, or the closest thing to it you could feel, gave a single, violent twitch.
--Friday, August 31, 24xx, town of Drydock, Northeastern Wyster Valley--
Rain... Hard rain... The scent of wet soil and trees... A cool breeze... You gasped sharply, your eyes snapping open. The platform was slowly sliding into place. In contrast to the massive room that the input portal device took up, the output portal was essentially in a large, concrete garage, which looked to have been constructed very recently. Before anyone had the chance to greet you, you heard, "We got crates, boys!" and GDU agents in rain slickers began filing in, grabbing crates, and filing out. Outside, you could hear someone shouting items and warehouse numbers. "Food to warehouse one, clothing to warehouse three! What is that? Take it up to the Waterline immediately, that goes right to Calla!"
"Hey..." Your traveling companion had a look of concern on her face, and had leaned a bit closer to you. "...Are you ok? That sounded like it hurt, and I don't think it's supposed to. There has to be a medic around here somewhere, do you need one...?"
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Ding. Embalmer Venca was waiting for her the moment the elevator doors opened, precisely as expected. She snapped to attention, clutching a mass of papers under the arm that wasn't busy saluting. "Crypt Keeper on deck! Good morning, ma'am!"
Amy smiled past exhausted eyes. How did everyone have so much energy? Not being damn near 500 years old probably had something to do with it. At around two and a half standard human lifetimes, it'd really begun to catch up, and had only gotten worse. She refused to do cocaine, expecting a single bump would cause her heart to burst in her chest. She hadn't stopped drinking coffee, because it was still delicious, but it'd long since stopped touching the fatigue. Roland had suggested an adrenaline pump, but that sounded an awful lot like someone sticking a needle in her and then not taking it out, which wasn't happening. Thus, she was just... Tired.
"At ease, Embalmer. How are you doing this morning?"
"I'm just fine, ma'am! If you'll come to the object containment lab, I cannot wait to show you what I found!"
"Venca, please call me Amy. Or Amphira is fine, if you can't do that. Also, I really want to know how you are. I mean I know how we all 'are', but I haven't hardly heard from you since your assignment began. Are you physically and mentally well? Have you experienced any unusual phenomena since returning from the hot zone? Would you like some time off?"
The Embalmer beamed a smile at Amy which melted the tiniest bit of the frost off of her soul. "Yes ma- Amy. Sorry. Yes, I really am ok, I promise. I was very careful, I followed almost all the protocols you didn't tell me specifically to break, and before I went in I put a lot of time and thought into finding the furthest-"
"Just a moment, did you say almost all the protocols?"
Venca flushed deeply at that moment. "W-well... Just... Because of the nature of the project... What it was going to do... I mean, to the universe... I um... It didn't feel... I couldn't, um...E-ethically s-speaking, I..."
"Oh no... Venca, what did you do? Do I need to put the base on alert?"
"N-no! She's harmless, I promise!"
"She is harmless!? Venca, tell me you didn't bring an unauthorized biological entity back with you from a fucking hot zone!"
"W-with all due respect ma'am, y-you would have done the same thing!"
"I..." She was right. Amy could guess exactly what had happened. Venca was only human, and leaving someone to die, especially someone you may have gotten to know (and Venca would have been embedded for a while), was an inhuman thing to do, whether it was protocol or not. Often, Amy was the one that had to make the hard decision, to close the portal, to leave the team behind, and in particularly grim times, to execute the sick to protect the healthy. But she was human, too, and with an aching heart, had shirked that responsibility on more than one occasion. The Catacombs were filled with such secrets. "...I guess I should be happy you just brought the one biological back with you. I'm not going to pretend I don't understand... But you are absolutely being placed on leave while I deal with this. Your 'new friend' is going to have to go through full naturalization, you can't just keep her... Where have you been keeping her, anyway? I know she's not in bio-containment."
"She's been staying with me. But, here, on the base!"
"Hell, Venca. OK... Alright. This was obviously not a public project, so I can fudge a few things. But, first of all, that's a full human being - she is human I assume?"
"Y-yes..."
"Thank goodness. That should make this a lot easier to deal with. She's a full human being, so she can't just live in your quarters on the base like she's a fucking cat or something. Full naturalization, the whole witness protection treatment, a complete new identity."
"T-thank you, Amy."
"I'll perform the naturalization work myself. That'll keep it out from under the nose of the rest of the GDU. Obviously this massive breach in protocol can't be shared with anyone, including Roland, so if you plan on getting wasted at any point, make sure you remind yourself beforehand that we can't discuss our friend from the hot zone no matter how many drinks we've had. You are also to create no paperwork which refers to her presence. Once I figure out her new details, I'll sneak them into the public systems, and she'll just be your cousin from Maine or wherever. Let me handle it. I'll... Add it to the list." Amy sighed. "I came down for an update on the keystone project. Before I open this other can of worms and we all go fishing together, and before you are placed on leave, let's have that debriefing."
"Y-yes ma'am! A-Amy! T-thank you again! This way, please!" Amy followed Embalmer Venca to the object containment lab, which was mostly shiny cubes and recording equipment. One such cube, no bigger than a bread box, was sitting, lid ajar, on an equally shiny table near the middle of the room. "Here it is!"
Amy warily raised her head juuuuust enough to catch a glimpse of about one quarter of the item in the box. She examined it for only long enough to be sure, and then lowered her head again. "That's it, alright. First thing's first, where did you end up?"
The Embalmer beamed with pride. "Like I said, I was very careful! Thorough, too! I must have done a month of research before locking in on hot zone three, and went aaaaaaall the way out to the end, on the furthest fringe of the local reality, so I wouldn't be noticed. Sierra one four nine, Romeo one one, to be exact."
"Damned if the hot zones don't stretch on forever. Good instincts, going to the fringes, although I might have pulled back just a little. A deity is always paying attention to the core of its reality, but they usually also keep an eye on the very frontier, just in case. We haven't all been violently torn from existence today, so unless that happens, we'll assume we're ok. Did anything weird happen in-world? Unexpectedly, I mean."
"Not unexpectedly, no."
"Do you have reason to believe you witnessed the actions of the local deity at any time, or that your presence was noted by any divine being?"
"I don't think a god or goddess has ever so much as looked in on that place. It was so small, Amy!"
"That corroborates what we know about the fringe worlds... Now, other than the one you literally brought home with you, Venca-"
"Sorry..."
"-Did any of the other local sapient beings appear to take notice of your foreign nature, or ask questions that would lead you to believe they may be aware of the Gravedigger's Union, its agents, or its operations?"
"No! Just Ver- I-I mean, just the one."
"While in-world, did you notice anything, other than yourself, appearing foreign to the local reality?"
"Nothing."
"I presume being out on the very ass end of spacetime that you didn't run into any members of the TDI."
"Thankfully no!"
"Does the cursed object, hereafter 'the keystone', display any properties that would not be attributable to it otherwise?"
"It's fully indestructible."
"It... Is?"
"Fully! I've actually been using it to relieve stress... Do you want to see me hit it with a sledgehammer?"
"I really actually do want to see that, but for safety reasons, we should probably not take it out of the box any more than we have to. Also, when you say 'fully' indestructible, have you tried fire? Acid? Run electricity through it? Also, please don't use cursed objects for-"
"Ah!" Suddenly excited again, Venca flipped through her papers. "The keystone appears to remain in a 'forced neutral' state until someone comes into contact with it. This forced neutral state precludes any changes in temperature from applied heat or cold, seemingly regardless of the extremity of the relevant temperature. The forced neutral state also looks to alter the keystone's immediate gravity, increasing weight to roughly forty-three pounds, about nineteen and a half kilograms. Neither blunt nor sharp trauma, or any chemical that we have available, acid or base of any concentration, is able to mar the surface, not even microscopically."
"Fascinating... I wonder if all keystones do that, or just this one? I'm afraid to ask, but what happens when someone touches it?"
Flipping to another section of her notes, the Embalmer clarified, "When a single individual comes into physical contact with the keystone, it enters what I'm calling the 'active state'. In the active state, the keystone seems to form a temporary symbiosis with the being in contact. This results in a change of immediate gravity, which renders the object weightless. The keystone's temperature also adjusts in an effective instant to match the body temperature of the contacting individual, not unlike the water in a sensory depravation tank."
"Symbiosis? It's not intelligent, is it? If it is, it's cruel to keep in a box, though I'm not sure what else we'd do... We can't exactly pop some googly eyes on it and introduce it as Sharon from Kansas. Still, it wouldn't be the first intelligent object we'd re-homed, we would make it work."
"The keystone either cannot communicate, or has made no attempt to do so, hasn't moved under its own power, nor has it consumed anything. I have no reason to believe its state-changing behavior constitutes any more than a sort of, well, 'curse', if you will."
"Good, one unplanned interdimensional sapient a day is enough."
"Things really get interesting when a second being touches the object while the first being is still in contact."
"Wait, who else did you get to touch this thing? Besides me, you're the only one who's supposed to know it's here. You didn't involve your interdimensional stowaway in these experiments, did you? Please say no."
"Of course not! I asked the portal operator! They already knew what was going on because we needed someone to operate the portal!"
"I mean they didn't know exactly what was going on, but..." Amy took another breath, sighed. One of these days, this whole organization, the whole universe, perhaps, was going to blow up. "...Ok, go on."
"When more than one being comes into contact, the keystone enters a hostile state. The weight increases the instant the second contact is made to roughly 172 pounds, or about 78 kilograms. The item's temperature also begins to drop roughly a degree and a half centigrade every second, with no 'floor' that I'm aware of. Presumably, if this were to continue long enough, it would freeze the flesh of any beings then in contact to the item."
"So it doesn't like crowds. That's fair, neither do I. Anything else?"
"Submersion in water had no effect on the keystone, although gravity changes are maintained through the medium and it will sink in its neutral state and float in its active state. For obvious reasons, I didn't attempt to submerge the keystone in its hostile state. It will not accept an electrical charge of any kind."
"Now, for the big question... What happened to the keystone's universe once the object was removed?"
"In less than twenty four hours local time, about 22 for whatever reason, following removal of the keystone, all far-end readings went to vacuum. When the astral coordinates are entered, no portal can be opened, no far end data can be received, and all connections are refused. For all intents and purposes, the universe has collapsed, and is unreachable."
Amphira nodded slowly. Keystones. A finishing knot in the grand tapestry. Remove it, and the whole thing unravels. "This is dangerous information. It needs to be disseminated slowly and carefully. I'll take care of that part. You, of course, are not to speak of this. As for the object itself, it is now considered top level classified. In fact..." Her head half-turned, Amy walked over to the box containing the keystone, and placed the lid back on it, then called a mechanical arm using the nearby console to come and take it away. "There. Now it'll spend eternity safe in cold storage. At this point I'm afraid I have to meet your new friend. While I appreciate that you've been trying to keep her under wraps, that won't be quite enough. Let's go."
Nervously, Venca led Amy to the door to her quarters, where Amy stopped her. "All the black leather might be a little intimidating for somebody from one of the fringe worlds, so go in first, and tell her I'm going to be in in a minute, and that I'm a friend." The Embalmer did as she was asked, while Amy waited a moment, and tried to get into 'fringe world mode'. After giving it a good five minutes, she walked in, a big smile semi-artificially pasted on her face. "Hi," she said, trying to sound as friendly as possible while half-worrying about everyone's existence coming to a violent and abrupt end, "My name is Amy. I'm a friend of Venca's, and I need to talk to you for a little while. Is that ok?"
The young woman looked terrified, despite the friendly introduction, and the Embalmers' pre-introduction, which was to be expected. This woman did recently find out interdimensional travel was possible AND lost her entire universe, both of which would be an extra whammy to someone who probably didn't know the word 'universe' up until that point. "Ok..." She said it very quietly.
Amy's immediate compulsion was to hug the poor girl, but she was still present enough to know that a sudden physical approach would probably not be the best idea. "Thank you. First, please understand, I'm here to help. All of us are here to help. You'll need to be a little careful with what you say and who you say it to, but none of us want to hurt you. What's your name? First name only, please."
"Veronica..."
"Thank, you Veronica. May I ask how old you are?"
"I'll be 27 in a few months..."
"That's a beautiful dress. Is it yours?"
"No..." Another frightened look.
"I'm letting her borrow it," Venca clarified quickly, "It's ok!"
"Yes Veronica, that's alright, I was just asking." Amy wanted to make sure no other artifacts might be bouncing around anywhere. She made a note to later gather any clothing that had come from the hot zone and incinerate it. "Veronica, do you know what the word 'mechanical' means?" The young woman shook her head. "That's alright. Do you know what a 'pizza' is?" Another head shake. Amy forced her smile to widen, trying to buoy the mood. "It's a food. It tastes great. We're going to get you some, soon, I think you'll really like it. Venca, once I leave, you're on leave, but unofficially, make sure Veronica isn't lactose intolerant, and then source some pizza for her, please."
"I-I will!"
More questions. "When you go to buy food, how do you get to the place where you do that?"
"I just walk to the dry goods shop... It isn't far..."
"Veronica, are you in any pain right now?"
"No more than usual, miss..."
"Well the usual amount is none, so, where is the pain?"
"All over..."
"Venca, would you give her an anti-inflammatory tablet please?" Veronica hugged herself in the chair she was sitting in. "It's ok, I'm going to have Venca give you something that's going to make the pain go away." This seemed to pique the young woman's curiosity. She watched, fascinated, as Venca drew a cup of water from her sink, and placed a small white object in the middle of Veronica's hand, recommending she get water in her mouth first, and then drop the 'pill' in, and then swallow all of it. She looked over at Amy, the cup in one hand and the pill in the other, seeming to want a second opinion. Amy beamed back, "It's just like drinking a lot of herbal tea, all at once." As she watched the interdimensional traveler take the anti-inflammatory tablet, she internally kept her fingers crossed that it wouldn't trigger some sort of allergic reaction, and thankfully, it didn't seem to.
Veronica frowned. "It still hurts... Did I do it wrong...?" Tears were welling up in her eyes.
You look like a character from The Matrix right now, and you can't just hug strangers anyway, Amy reminded herself, quickly jumping in to cut off that train of thought. "You didn't do anything wrong! It takes a little while to work, but you'll feel better soon."
"Ok..."
The next question was traditionally 'are you a god or goddess?', but Amy felt she could safely skip that one. "Veronica, do you know what 'magic' is?"
"Yes, miss..."
"Are you capable of it?"
"Huh...?"
"I'm sorry, I mean to say, can do you magic?"
"People can't do magic, miss..."
And now, the part that was going to be hard to do without scaring her. "Veronica, Venca and I are really happy that you're here. Some people though, they might be really unhappy that you're here. It's ok! We can protect you, we actually do this all the time." A lot more often than we probably should. "We're going to make sure those people don't find you here by pretending that you're someone else. We're all going to pretend the same thing, so hopefully it will be fun." One day, Amy would take Veronica aside and explain the concept of angry deities coming through portals to destroy their reality because deities tended to get very touchy about foreigners AND deserters, but this wasn't exactly the time. "You'll need a new name. First, and last, and you can have a third if you like. Pick something that makes you happy, anything you like, but nothing from where you used to come from, it has to be totally new, ok?"
This was obviously a lot for someone who had never heard of pizza, but thankfully she seemed amicable, giving a little nod. "Ok, I'll try..."
"Thank you. Venca will help you. She won't need to work for a while, so you two can spend as much time together as you would like."
That was the first thing that seemed to do anything but scare Veronica. She turned her head toward Embalmer Venca and smiled, just a little, but enough. Good... She was going to be ok.
"You also can't tell anyone anything about who you used to be before you started pretending, no details about your home, or..." This was where Amy usually brought up not talking about one's family or friends from the previous universe, however since that universe had recently blinked out of existence, and she expected Veronica was very aware of that fact, she just gingerly sidled past that bit of specificity. "...Or anything like that. I've really enjoyed meeting with you, but I need to talk to another friend very soon, so I'm going to take Venca outside just for a minute, and then I'm going to let the two of you spend some time together. Venca, would you?"
Once the two of them were outside, and the door slid closed behind them, the exhaustion immediately flooded back onto Amphira's face, as if a damn had burst. "Given the nature of our findings, and the fact that you brought an entire person back with you... I'm going to have to bring Roland into this, make it all official. Don't worry, I'm going to tell him it was all my idea, including our friend there. I'll tell him it was to... Find out if a biological organism, if removed from a universe which had ceased to exist, would also then cease to exist, and she didn't, so now she's here. Good enough. You are still not to touch so much as an anomalous atom until I personally return you to service, but you'll have a job to come back to eventually. Hopefully if I remind Roland about that time I saved his life he won't be too pissed, though I expect eventually I won't be able to wring any more good will out of that particular towel."
With a brief glance back at the door, and then the Embalmer, Amphira continued. "She has old world eyes, she'll need contact lenses. Find out what color she wants, and I'll make it happen. Until she gets those, and a new name, she remains in your quarters. Since we're telling Roland, I won't have to do her full naturalization myself, which is great, because there are about five different places I should really be right now. You know how the program works, so you know what she needs to know. Break it to her slowly, but emphasize its importance. I will provide as much administrative support as you require, but officially, you are responsible for her wellbeing. I trust that won't be a problem?"
"No problem!"
"Good. Your names even go together... Well, she's going to have a new one soon, but they did. Make sure she doesn't pick another 'V' name. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go tell a grumpy old robot about the universe I destroyed, the redacted-ass keystone we're now sitting on, and the incredibly dangerous interdimensional traveler I ordered pulled out of a place we aren't even supposed to travel to... Just another day at the office. Have a good morning, Embalmer."
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Edit: Fixed separator sizes. They're always running over just a little bit. * I just realized separators are going to be non-standard based on the zoom level of each individual person's browser. So they might look a little shorter or longer, and they might run over or under than I intended. Sorry about that! Local realities, am I right?
Edit 2: A little bit of polish, one can never have too much.
Edit 3: Added sample intro for Horrible Goblin Band to sample content section.
Edit 4: Added a new writing sample / window into the Dead Worlds / my brain threw up.
I'm Sarah, and I have been writing forever. Nearly 30 years, I would approximate. I write all kinds of gunk, whatever spews out of my ears after being chewed on by my brain. Then eventually I go, "No no no!" and delete all of it. Good times! I do the same thing with saved games, if it's been long enough since I've been back to a game, it all gets cleared and we start again, like a phoenix from the ashes.
How long do your replies tend to be and what is your writing schedule like?
Reply length will vary heavily depending on how much is going on in any given scene, and how far ahead I've planned the given scenario. Once upon a time, I was pretty excellent at matching my partner's post length. I'm still probably pretty good at it. I'm around quite a bit, and can just about guarantee some posting on Monday-Friday. On weekends I will try to get to you as often as I can, but availability will be chaotic.
What is your tolerance level for gore? Violence?
I'm a horror roleplayer deep down, so gore is part of the whole thing. That said, I subscribe to pre-2020 movie levels of violence, in that while you may lose a whole squad of NPCs suddenly and horribly, it won't be like watching a surgery video in that I won't describe it to the point where you start to feel a little ill. Has anyone noticed movies doing SO MUCH of that now? Yikes!
Do you write sexual content? If so, what are your kinks? Limits?
That's not really what I'm here for. No shade, I remember it being VERY fun back in the day, but I'm here for the shared storytelling experience, and to squeeze the gunk out of my brain like a horrible lemon. That said, as far as romance (which is a must, cuddles are the best) goes, I'm pretty open. As long as everyone is consenting and of the appropriate age, I'm cool with siblings or monsters or whatever falling in love. Who doesn't want to cuddle Mothman just a little bit? Let me know if you have a thing, and I'll do my best to make sure the thing makes its way into the story! Oh, speaking of which, doubling was big last time I was roleplaying. If that's still something folks are interested in, I'm happy to do so for you. Haven't been in that headspace for a while, but I lived in it for long enough that if I hum a few bars I should be able to catch the tune. I always try to leave room for preference-based OCs. I won't massage your uh, whatever, but let me massage your brain and you won't regret it.
Do you write any fandoms? (Please bear in mind that any characters under 18 and any high school settings must be aged up)
I once wrote a Star Wars roleplay that genuinely freaked out my friend Matthew, and I'm proud of that. At this point I don't really DO fandoms though, so much as they become subsumed and turn into part of the Dead Worlds, like a single twitching arm haphazardly stitched to an abomination with 29 other arms, all from different creatures.
Do you have any pairing or setting ideas?
Do you have any detailed plots prepared?
Do you have any characters you want to write? (Our character forum is here if you want a dedicated thread)
Alright, here's the recruitment thread itself! I'm extracting it piecemeal from where it's already been created, and polishing it as it comes in, so there may be some corners missing, and watch your step over by the gap.
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This is a quick rundown on the Dead Worlds universe, which is a framing device I've become fond of, which the following plots at least orbit around. While there's a nice mix of genres, in the "main" universe, it's sci-fi, 24xx. Your standard corporate run hell-future. Rural areas are all but abandoned, both officially and unofficially, with anybody living outside of city limits basically being nomads or homesteaders under full lawlessness, running on salvaged or stolen technology, often hundreds of years behind what's available in the nearest city.
The two major factions of note at the beginning of the timeline are the TDI and the GDU. The TDI are officially a technology company which manufactures robots meant for combat and "urban pacification". Nearly every other major power, corporate or political, relies on these bots. Along with an elite "problem solving" force colloquially referred to as the Devil 9 (think SOLDIER from Final Fantasy 7, similar vibes), reliance on their robots put TDI in a place where they are essentially untouchable. TDI are Tarz Draconis Incorporated, and GDU are The Gravediggers Union.
The GDU is a not-so-secret society that splits their focus between fighting the TDI, helping the people the TDI have abandoned, and dealing with the wacky shit that goes down in a world where interdimensional travel has become possible (I know it's a cliché at this point, but to be fair, Earth SUCKS, so, isekai forever! <3).
The ability to open interdimensional gateways is known only to select members of the TDI, most of the GDU, and a few really unlucky civilians who stumble into a dark cave through a portal and get eaten by a Grue. The process requires specific technology which the TDI produces in secret, so a lot of what a new GDU recruit does is run raids on TDI warehouses to steal said tech.
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Plots
Salted Earth (named after the town it takes place in), has a sort of spoopy Stardew Valley vibe. Salted Earth is meant to be mentally detoxifying, and will be hardcore cozy with a little hidden object game mysteriousness and romanceable monsters (and humans, if that's your thing). The cast of characters will start small (you'll meet the mayor and one other resident immediately) and probably end up HUGE. Safe mode is on, and no deaths are planned. Oh, and you don't have to be a farmer, we can slot any profession in, or no profession.
Esponja Grande has a slightly more mysterious, high strangeness vibe, but is still quite cozy. Your character wakes up on a high fantasy beach without their memory, next to a massive yellow sea sponge (thus the name), and will almost immediately be pulled into intrigue by a beautiful enchantress. Between intrigues, your character will have the opportunity to make interdimensional deliveries to worlds both dead and living. The initial cast of characters will mostly be the enchantress contact and your character's co-workers, but will slowly expand as she meets people. There may be an NPC death or two depending on where things go.
Horrible Goblin Band rates a 5/10 on the horror-o-meter, and has a leaning toward medieval fantasy. Your character is part of a GDU restabilization team. These teams help with resettlement in various ways. Specifically, your character is part of the first civilian resettlement team to the Wyster Valley since the GDU wrested control of a small part of it from something that they kind of glossed over in the report, but they assure your character that she'll probably be safe as long as she doesn't go out after dark, and sticks to the inn and the center of town. Though plenty of positions were available, being a member of the band at the inn had the most favorable combination of safety and perks, and anything is better than the place your character just came from (up to you why they wanted to leave, which can literally just be "this town is lame AF", which I feel like is the beginning of a lot of great stories). Initial cast will be the innkeeper and your bandmates, one goblin drummer (who was the first to sign up, and got to name the band, which is why it's called Horrible Goblin Band), a human violinist, and another GDU member whose nature will change depending on if you want me doubling or not. Don't get too attached to the NPCs (especially the ones on the dive team), but the party itself will probably be fine.
Dancing In The Graveyard takes place in the main Dead Worlds universe, beginning in the megacity of Kudzu. While making a visit to the local cemetery to visit a dead relative, your character is mistaken for a member of the GDU by a TDI commander, who sics his bots on her. Your character manages to evade and destroy a couple of them, but eventually ends up cornered, only to be fortuitously saved by the actual GDU which was in fact meeting in that very graveyard that very evening. The Keeper, impressed by the fact that an unarmed civilian was able to hold their own for a while against TDI killbots, recruits her on the spot. The cast will include individuals from all up and down the GDU's power structure, at least one member of the Devil 9 will certainly show up, and who knows who'll end up drifting in from the Dead Worlds? NPC deaths are promised, and depending on where things go, your character may be the only member of the main cast left standing.
No Trains To Granite plays like latter Resident Evil media (though I can't vouch for Requiem 'cause ya girl is broke and hasn't played it yet). As the story opens, the GDU's command structure has fully collapsed. The leader saw it coming, and ordered various detachments out on contingency missions, to essentially recreate the GDU after its full destruction. Your character and two other members of the GDU are one such detachment, sent by train to the town of Granite (and the tracks fall apart behind them, thus the name), which suffered a bio-supernatural disaster hundreds of years previous and is mostly overrun with the products of your standard fully insane, human-hating druid. And it was pretty crazy before that! But there's also an old GDU facility there, which could theoretically be used to start a new chapter, and desperate times call for desperate measures. There are a few non-hostile beings still hiding out in Granite, along with the primary cast of three. No Train To Granite takes place in the darkest timeline, and there may be no survivors.
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Samples
I've written a few character profiles during my apocalyptic roleplayer-seeking journey. As time goes on, more will surely pop up.
Name: Siren Gala (The fortunate tend to arrive on the beach without a name or memory, but The Lady Gala was only so fortunate as to have lost the former. Gala was a name she chose herself, the only fragment of that memory she had any desire to treat with. Long passed, as it does, and "Siren" was amended by those who may have heard her singing, mournfully, late at night, somewhere in the maze outside her estate).I've written a few character profiles during my apocalyptic roleplayer-seeking journey. As time goes on, more will surely pop up.
Plot: Esponja Grande
Homeworld Status: In flux (Worlds in flux have deities whose status is unknown, and thus they cannot be properly classified as a "living" or "dead" world).
Appearance: Other than the enchantress and her mysterious benefactor, no one is really sure what Siren Gala looks like. She's constantly in a dress that distorts her proportions in one way or another, and always wearing a mask. If it weren't for the fact that it's the same mask every time, a sort of Phantom of the Opera situation that makes her look like she's wearing another face just on top of her face, you'd never be able to tell it was her.
Home: Siren lives in Gala Castle, which hosts a literally constant party for anyone who might like to attend at any time, although she herself tends to disappear at about 10 in the evening, and not show back up again until around dawn. Rumor has it that those willing to challenge the shifting maze on the front of the property during those hours may hear her singing, though it's also said that the song will bring about a crushing depression that lasts for days, which is why she doesn't particularly like to be called "Siren", and why she only sings in the depths of the maze out of sight of the sun.
The maze itself has been enhanced by the magic of the realm far beyond a simple hedge arrangement, and there's really no telling what one will encounter once they're inside. As with everywhere else in the realm, it's bafflingly safe despite what should definitely be deadly hazards, but can be highly frustrating and confusing to the unprepared, especially in the dark. On the side of the lawn opposite the maze, a number of pools are nearly always splashing with guests, the winds of magic keeping the temperatures just right for the moment, whatever that moment might be, and prompt deliveries keeping patrons as toasted as they might like to be on umbrella and coconut drinks.
Fireworks constantly pop and fizzle, regardless of the time of day, over what could easily be a big old Victorian hotel, almost all moss and windows, with spires that would be menacing in any other situation, but in this case just gently caress the sky as colors burst behind them. On the inside, there are many lush rooms with many different themes, but always a jovial atmosphere, like Rose Red if instead of trying to kill you, it just wanted you to pop down and enjoy some champagne and cake.
Though the front lawn and home itself are kept very well, the back yard has been all but retaken by nature, and The Lady Gala encourages guests not to wander too far into it. Some of those who have done so anyway confirm that there's "something back there", but are tight-lipped as to what, and suggest you don't try and find out. Whether you take that as good advice and stick to the party inside, or decide to sneak out and go see where that jaunty tune is coming from, is up to you.
Being: The Lady Gala is bright, cheery, and welcoming, like her home. She wants to know if you're having a good time, and if not, how she can help you have a good time. She wants to know how you are, and if you aren't doing well, she wants to know how she can help you feel better. She doesn't enjoy talking about herself, and will assure her guests that "she's fine", and that's about it, generally disappearing with gentle apologies into a crowd of party-goers if anyone should try and get to know her beyond simple pleasantries. There's certainly more to her; anyone with a trained eye can see as much in speaking with her, but thus far no one has been able to attain those specifics. Those who've managed to get her to sit still long enough to try generally end up in something like a drinking contest they have no way of winning (without giving too much away, Siren doesn't exactly have a liver), and wake up the next day on a posh couch covered in a warm blanket, comfy, but hungover, and with no additional information.
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Name: Jenk (Singular names are a tradition of Jenk's homeworld, where goblins also eschew titles. It can get confusing in large populations, which is one of the reasons Jenk signed up for a GDU resettlement team. Too many Jenks in the kitchen spoils the broth.)
Plot: Horrible Goblin Band
Homeworld Status: Dead (A group of highly intelligent draconics inhabiting Jenk's homeworld slew that world's deity not long after its creation, and the sapient species of the world have ruled over themselves in relative peace ever since).
Appearance: Jenk is three and a half feet tall, and quite muscular for a goblin due to his profession. He has aquamarine skin, dark gray hair in a small scraggly circle, and his eyes are a cloudy emerald green. Jenk doesn't particularly care for clothing, but has noted that most species seem to insist upon it, and so keeps a baggy, airy shirt, and a pair of pants that are mostly pockets and really only held in place by a belt that's twice as long as it needs to be, double-wrapped around his waist.
Home: While Jenk is happy to talk about the world he came from, he doesn't like to dwell too much on it. "I ain't goin' back, anyway." He describes a world where goblins and draconics share a society, how he lived in a burgeoning goblin colony built into the side of an arid canyon, how there were no less than 7 Jenks in said colony. Now, he lives in a room above The Waterline Inn, one of the oddly posh perks of an otherwise fairly dangerous job. The Waterline, along with basically the whole village surrounding it, was fully leveled during the local population's revolution against their deity.
The rebuilt inn is the only public space in the area, currently, and constantly has beings in one door and out the other. A large, powerful generator sits behind the structure, providing it and the entire resettlement operation with electricity. Though many of the timbers are original, things like the kitchen have been modernized to better serve resettlement efforts (there's even an ice machine, although soda keeps running out). Speaking thereof, the kitchen never seems to close, and the scent of food drifts through the main hall and up into the rooms at all hours. The innkeeper and his wife, Brugo and Calla respectively, appear to take turns at the bar. There are also spirits enough to drown in, should one be so inclined, and after seeing what they see every day, many of the Waterline's visitors are so inclined.
The standard room has a single large bed, with surprisingly comfortable bedding, a few sticks of furniture, an armoire, and one window, which guests are encouraged to keep closed unless they're in the room and the sun is shining. Three stacked floors of these rooms can be accessed via two different sets of stairs from the main hall. Armed guards provide security 24/7 outside, and floodlights join them during the evening hours.
Being: Jenk suffers from a spiritual disease which causes him to remember every single life he has lived. This wouldn't be so bad, except that a lot of them have been pretty horrifying and ended very badly, and that's enough to make a little old goblin VERY paranoid. Luckily for Jenk, his goblin physiology allows him to enjoy the sorts of mushrooms that would be fully deadly to basically any other organism, and instead of dropping dead, he trips absolute goblin balls. It doesn't seem to stop the memories, as he's always mumbling weird stuff about people and things that aren't of this world, but at least it seems to make them sting a little less.
Jenk seems to always be both hungry and thirsty, which could either be a physiological thing or a "constantly taking magic mushrooms from one of the Dead Worlds" thing. Either way, if he's not on stage, or passed out in any corner of his room other than on the bed, you can find him at the bar, chatting up Brugo or Calla, whoever's cooking at the time. Outside of the paranoia, Jenk is actually very sweet, though since he's usually telling some horrifying story, or in the middle of a shroomy flashback, he can also be a SERIOUS bummer.
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(I now have a sample intro for Horrible Goblin Band! It is written in first person past tense, as I didn't yet know my partner's character name at the time of writing. Thus "you" is used in place of a character name for the purposes of the intro. I've assembled a great deal of both freeform and ttrpg content over the years, so I am comfortable in both third person past and first person present, and basically anywhere in between. Apologies in advance if my tense slips, but I do enough editing passes it shouldn't happen too often if at all.)
--Friday, August 31, 24xx, a GDU facility underneath Setter Cemetery, southwestern Kudzu City.--
For a place you literally had to climb down the dusty old stairs of a creepy crumbling crypt to get to, the GDU facility was surprisingly sterile. As a helpful Union member escorted you to where you were meant to be that day, you noticed you could even see your reflection in the tile floor. It seemed as if everyone to pass you (in their crisp, clean uniforms) had a smile and a nod to share, and you were repeatedly wished a "Happy portal day!" just about any time your escort mentioned you were part of a resettlement team.
Eventually, you were led beneath an archway marked "PORTAL ROOM", through which a great deal of commotion was taking place. GDU agents were packing a large variety of items into crates, closing the crates up, and stacking them on a platform near a large, complex looking machine. An enthusiastic young man saluted you, for some reason, and introduced himself as Earth Mover Govi. "Happy portal day! Please, follow me to the transport platform right over here, miss, ah... Piss and nails, I don't have your paperwork here for some reason, sorry about that. I remember you were entertainment division though, right? For the house band at the Waterline. Unless you're a singer, please make sure we have your instrument."
Earth Mover Govi seemed as if he was about to say something else when the sound of boots jogging on tile brought both of your attention to the arrival of a young woman through the portal room arch. The new arrival was wearing civilian clothing: a baggy, mostly black t-shirt with a pointy metal band logo on it that was all but impossible to read, the same chunky boots you'd seen almost everyone in the building wearing, and a fairly worn looking pair of blue jeans. In the right part of the city, she would be like a single drop of salty water in the ocean, but in the GDU facility, she was like a hot pink flamingo in an otherwise black and white movie.
As she drew closer, you quickly took note of the rest of her features. She was nearly six feet tall, with bright, curious brown eyes, mid back length hair to match her eyes, and the pale skin of someone who maybe didn't get out too much, or at least, didn't see the sun much. She flashed a wide smile. "Hi! Happy portal day!"
"Good morning, ma'am." Another salute from the Earth Mover. "You must be... You are... Oh, what the hell? Where's my paperwork? What am I even holding if it isn't the paperwork on our two jumpers? It's fine, it's fine. Both of you are in the band, I remember that much. I've done the rest of this enough I can do it from memory... Probably. If you aren't a singer, please make sure we have your instrument, and then hop over onto the platform please." The new girl closed the rest of the distance, coming to a stop on the platform just a few feet away, with another little smile.
"No instrument for me!" Her voice wasn't quite what one expected of a singer, but considering the scuttlebutt you'd heard about the band's drummer and his magic mushroom habit, it was going to be a bit of a disaster either way. Hopefully there weren't a lot of rotten tomatoes on the other side of the portal.
"Alright. A lot of this was probably covered between orientation and now, these are just last minute checks and re-checks. Mover Denadi, how are our supplies looking? You about done?"
"Seven minutes on supplies!" came a call from one of the men running supplies to crates.
"Perfect. Alright, so the portals are open the last Friday of every month for what equates to about half an hour on that end, and a little more or a little less on this end, depending. On what? We're still figuring that out. But the good news is, the discrepancy doesn't seem to be dangerous. Operations are carried out based on the local time on the other side of the portal, so make sure you have someone or something to keep the time with, are keeping track of the what day it is, etcetera. To ensure minimal bleedthrough of potentially hostile native species, and preserve supplies of catalytic devices, this will be the only time the portal is open during any given month. There is emergency protocol in place only if something major is happening. Only your site leader, or acting site leader, should the need arise, is authorized to send an emergency evacuation request." What Earth Mover Govi wouldn't say, although he did know, was that in very, very rare cases, depending on the nature of the 'something major' that was happening on the far side, the corresponding portal might never be opened again. The dimensional coordinates would be blacklisted, and anyone still on the far side was damned, damnatio memoriae. That fact, of course, wasn't exactly 'on the pamphlets', but if you were a portal tech, you ended up knowing things, and drinking a lot of coffee, and trying your best not to let the jumpers see that you were deeply concerned for their wellbeing. Because 'they were going to be fine'!
The Earth Mover continued. "Because we only open the portal once a month, it's very important to get any supply requests in as soon as you can. Try and think about supplies two months ahead. If you want to get someone a terrestrial Christmas present, you'd have to request it by the end of October, we'd source it here and have it to you by the end of November, so you can deliver it to the intended recipient by December 25. Christmas is December 25th, the portal doesn't open until December 31st. I'm making a big deal about it because it gets missed a lot, and folks get... Grumpy about it. Believe me when I say there have been requests to change it, just for December, but both Keepers refuse, for whatever reason, so we're sort of at a standstill there. Also, while you can request absolutely anything, we can't guarantee we can bring it through on time, or at all. We'll do our best, I'd say we're able to fulfill roughly eighty-five percent of requests, at least half of them on time, but especially if it involves logistics between multiple worlds, or is something really rare or dangerous, it may be denied. I would suggest having backup requests ready for anything more exotic than a pomegranate... Maybe for pomegranates, too. What else...?"
Govi began flipping through the many papers attached to his clipboard. Your new traveling companion gave you another subtle smile, and quietly mimed the phrase 'nice to meet you'. Govi found his place. "Right, chain of command. Chain of command is a very big deal on this side of the portal, but once you're in the valley, things will be a bit looser. You should still know your contacts. Under normal circumstances, your site leader will be Calla..." He squinted, ran through it once in his head. "...Popovici. She and her husband Brugo are the innkeepers at the Waterline Inn. I would try and find one of them as soon as you arrive, they'll be able to give you a better report about what's been going on in-world than we'd be able to give you here. They'll also be able to help you file the supply requests I mentioned earlier. I would suggest you also route any security requests through your site leader, but if you can't do that for some reason, the on-site security chief is Blake Carol. If both parties are unavailable, your final security contact, is uh... Definitely not Jenk, who was...?" Papers, papers, papers.
"Um, that was me, actually." Your traveling companion spoke up, and immediately whipped into a sort of 'musclehunk flexing on the beach' pose, kissing a bicep that fully was not there after holding for a moment. It was cute, if you were so inclined, but it definitely wasn't intimidating anyone.
"Oh, that's... That's perfect, actually. Portal openings are always a little stressful, every extra bit of security is welcome. One more thing for chain of command. Ecaterina Bejenari is technically overseeing operations in the Wyster Valley. If you were particularly lucky, she might have also been your interviewer when you joined up with the GDU, and you probably remember her popping up a time or two during your onboarding process. Yeah, Cat does a lot around here, doesn't like to sit still, thank the powers for that. Anyway, if she shows up on-site, she immediately assumes control of local operations. Don't worry, someone will let you know. Same as if a Keeper shows up, someone will shout 'Keeper on deck!', and then you salute in the same direction everyone else is saluting and wait for orders. Since band members are technically civilian postings, you are expected to prioritize safety over emergency response. If something should happen, you are officially ordered to flee immediately to the nearest safe location and inform security, then wait until someone in authority declares the danger has passed. Amphira asked that I emphasize that point, and she's a Keeper, so again, chain of command. Between you and me, though, there are probably ten automatic rifles for every sapient being in the valley, and we can't seem to get them enough soda, but they're sitting on a stockpile of ammunition. My very unofficial recommendation is that you ask Blake to arm you, and drill with one of those rifles until you're comfortable with it, as soon as possible. No one is actually going to be mad at you for picking up a gun and defending your outpost. But you didn't hear that from me, ok? I told you to do the safe thing, and only the safe thing."
"Hey Govi, we're go on supplies here! We're out, they need us in the aeronautics bay, catch you later, right?"
"Roger that Denadi, don't forget to catch a break, too! See you soon! Alright you two, it's show time. Oh, wait, one more thing, one more thing. Where were they?" Govi's eyes shot around the room, until something seemed to occur to him, and then he sped over to a nearby large, metal, console-desk thing, which appeared to have something to do with the portal device. Bending down, he retrieved a couple of gray umbrellas from under the reflective furniture, returning to hand one to each of the interdimensional travelers. "I only get readings from here, I haven't been to the valley, but I have come to understand that it hasn't stopped raining in the months frontier crews have been stabilizing the area, so you'll be wanting those. Ah, and actually, one more important thing to know, it's really the last thing this time. We know how to open the portals, and we're working on what exactly goes on between 'this end' and 'that end', but we don't have a full understanding of precisely 'where' you are when you're moving through the portal. We know that very little time elapses on the ends of the portal, but those moving through have reported... Some stuff. Audiovisual hallucinations, a sensation of time 'stretching', very rarely someone will come through with a story about how they were displaced for what felt like a few days, in various unusual locations, in situations where only seconds had passed on the input and output ends of the portal. I've never lost anyone." The GDU had definitely lost people down portals, but so far, Earth Mover Govi's jumpers had been lucky.
A heavily armed security team had begun gathering almost as soon as the supply runners had gone, setting up in various posts around the portal chamber, including on an elevated catwalk that appeared to have no other purpose. All weaponry was pointed directly at what looked like it would be the portal opening, an unassuming enough metal hoop maybe thrice the thickness of a hula hoop, though significantly larger, and half-buried in the floor. The Earth Mover jogged over to the console he'd been storing the umbrellas under, and began to press buttons and throw levers, speaking into a small microphone which projected his voice throughout the chamber. "Far end readings stable, engaging internal power supply, running local program. Preparing for drone insertion. Drone team, if you would please." A very large drone was slowly flown into the middle of the ring as the portal platform vibrated ever so slightly. "Running last minute checks... End to end responsive... Catalytic chip responsive... Section one is clear... Section two is clear... Section three is clear... One moment, something's blocking up section four, need to clear out all the channels to make sure we don't get any 'weird noise'... There. Pretty sure that's got it." Your traveling companion looked over and gave you an exaggerated look of concern at the 'pretty sure', but didn't have time to do much more than that.
"Alright, section five is clear, the chip is receiving on all channels! Safe travels! Drone ops, hit it!" The hovering drone collapsed in the blink of an eye, blooming quickly into a blue radiance that stretched to the edges of the metal hoop. "Engaging transport conveyor!" The floor underneath your feet jerked for just a moment, before slowly dragging you, your traveling companion, and many crates worth of supplies, toward, and through, the glowing mass.
--No chrono-geographical data available.--
A rainbow of colors dancing on black and white. You tried to rub the 'oil' out of your eyes, but it wouldn't leave, for... How long? Hard to say. Then, a landscape of stone on stone, darkness, lightning from dark, billowing clouds. Two figures of impossible size moved amongst the inhospitable mountains far beyond, appearing and disappearing as forks of lightning rained from above. A cave, a fire, pain. Cold... Darkness gathering... Heart beating in your ears... Breathing shallow... Fighting... Fighting... Losing...? Frigid, chattering cold... Is that... The ocean...?
Shadows in the dark. Back to finish what they started? No... You recognize that shadow. You...?
A voice you'd not heard before. "The giants will be back. You two, I need him mobile, yesterday. You, head outside, stay hidden. If anything starts coming this way, alert me immediately. I'm sorry for the amount of pain you're about to be in... But I'll be here the whole time. Hold my hand... Squeeze as hard as you need to."
A jolt of pain ripped you away, a scream echoed somewhere far, far off, getting further every moment. Somewhere in infinity, your physical body, or the closest thing to it you could feel, gave a single, violent twitch.
--Friday, August 31, 24xx, town of Drydock, Northeastern Wyster Valley--
Rain... Hard rain... The scent of wet soil and trees... A cool breeze... You gasped sharply, your eyes snapping open. The platform was slowly sliding into place. In contrast to the massive room that the input portal device took up, the output portal was essentially in a large, concrete garage, which looked to have been constructed very recently. Before anyone had the chance to greet you, you heard, "We got crates, boys!" and GDU agents in rain slickers began filing in, grabbing crates, and filing out. Outside, you could hear someone shouting items and warehouse numbers. "Food to warehouse one, clothing to warehouse three! What is that? Take it up to the Waterline immediately, that goes right to Calla!"
"Hey..." Your traveling companion had a look of concern on her face, and had leaned a bit closer to you. "...Are you ok? That sounded like it hurt, and I don't think it's supposed to. There has to be a medic around here somewhere, do you need one...?"
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(Since I know third person past tense is the vibe, I put together a little sample in that tense. If you're too sober, feel free to play a drinking game where you drink every time it becomes obvious that I've been playing Control: Resonant recently, and that I dearly love the Secure Contain Protect schtick. Please enjoy! 
)
The Catacombs had been actual catacombs at one point. Roland had rolled his eyes about it, but Amy had insisted. She enjoyed how "thematically appropriate" they were, and since she'd recently saved his life at the time she made the proposal, he didn't argue. The Catacombs were located below the central facility in Setter Cemetery, and it was there the GDU enacted dangerous experiments involving interdimensional travel, deity interaction, so-called 'cursed objects', and things from living worlds which were kept under deep classification. Amy nervously ruminated on the amount of her own secrets that were buried in The Catacombs as she rode the elevator down.)
Ding. Embalmer Venca was waiting for her the moment the elevator doors opened, precisely as expected. She snapped to attention, clutching a mass of papers under the arm that wasn't busy saluting. "Crypt Keeper on deck! Good morning, ma'am!"
Amy smiled past exhausted eyes. How did everyone have so much energy? Not being damn near 500 years old probably had something to do with it. At around two and a half standard human lifetimes, it'd really begun to catch up, and had only gotten worse. She refused to do cocaine, expecting a single bump would cause her heart to burst in her chest. She hadn't stopped drinking coffee, because it was still delicious, but it'd long since stopped touching the fatigue. Roland had suggested an adrenaline pump, but that sounded an awful lot like someone sticking a needle in her and then not taking it out, which wasn't happening. Thus, she was just... Tired.
"At ease, Embalmer. How are you doing this morning?"
"I'm just fine, ma'am! If you'll come to the object containment lab, I cannot wait to show you what I found!"
"Venca, please call me Amy. Or Amphira is fine, if you can't do that. Also, I really want to know how you are. I mean I know how we all 'are', but I haven't hardly heard from you since your assignment began. Are you physically and mentally well? Have you experienced any unusual phenomena since returning from the hot zone? Would you like some time off?"
The Embalmer beamed a smile at Amy which melted the tiniest bit of the frost off of her soul. "Yes ma- Amy. Sorry. Yes, I really am ok, I promise. I was very careful, I followed almost all the protocols you didn't tell me specifically to break, and before I went in I put a lot of time and thought into finding the furthest-"
"Just a moment, did you say almost all the protocols?"
Venca flushed deeply at that moment. "W-well... Just... Because of the nature of the project... What it was going to do... I mean, to the universe... I um... It didn't feel... I couldn't, um...E-ethically s-speaking, I..."
"Oh no... Venca, what did you do? Do I need to put the base on alert?"
"N-no! She's harmless, I promise!"
"She is harmless!? Venca, tell me you didn't bring an unauthorized biological entity back with you from a fucking hot zone!"
"W-with all due respect ma'am, y-you would have done the same thing!"
"I..." She was right. Amy could guess exactly what had happened. Venca was only human, and leaving someone to die, especially someone you may have gotten to know (and Venca would have been embedded for a while), was an inhuman thing to do, whether it was protocol or not. Often, Amy was the one that had to make the hard decision, to close the portal, to leave the team behind, and in particularly grim times, to execute the sick to protect the healthy. But she was human, too, and with an aching heart, had shirked that responsibility on more than one occasion. The Catacombs were filled with such secrets. "...I guess I should be happy you just brought the one biological back with you. I'm not going to pretend I don't understand... But you are absolutely being placed on leave while I deal with this. Your 'new friend' is going to have to go through full naturalization, you can't just keep her... Where have you been keeping her, anyway? I know she's not in bio-containment."
"She's been staying with me. But, here, on the base!"
"Hell, Venca. OK... Alright. This was obviously not a public project, so I can fudge a few things. But, first of all, that's a full human being - she is human I assume?"
"Y-yes..."
"Thank goodness. That should make this a lot easier to deal with. She's a full human being, so she can't just live in your quarters on the base like she's a fucking cat or something. Full naturalization, the whole witness protection treatment, a complete new identity."
"T-thank you, Amy."
"I'll perform the naturalization work myself. That'll keep it out from under the nose of the rest of the GDU. Obviously this massive breach in protocol can't be shared with anyone, including Roland, so if you plan on getting wasted at any point, make sure you remind yourself beforehand that we can't discuss our friend from the hot zone no matter how many drinks we've had. You are also to create no paperwork which refers to her presence. Once I figure out her new details, I'll sneak them into the public systems, and she'll just be your cousin from Maine or wherever. Let me handle it. I'll... Add it to the list." Amy sighed. "I came down for an update on the keystone project. Before I open this other can of worms and we all go fishing together, and before you are placed on leave, let's have that debriefing."
"Y-yes ma'am! A-Amy! T-thank you again! This way, please!" Amy followed Embalmer Venca to the object containment lab, which was mostly shiny cubes and recording equipment. One such cube, no bigger than a bread box, was sitting, lid ajar, on an equally shiny table near the middle of the room. "Here it is!"
Amy warily raised her head juuuuust enough to catch a glimpse of about one quarter of the item in the box. She examined it for only long enough to be sure, and then lowered her head again. "That's it, alright. First thing's first, where did you end up?"
The Embalmer beamed with pride. "Like I said, I was very careful! Thorough, too! I must have done a month of research before locking in on hot zone three, and went aaaaaaall the way out to the end, on the furthest fringe of the local reality, so I wouldn't be noticed. Sierra one four nine, Romeo one one, to be exact."
"Damned if the hot zones don't stretch on forever. Good instincts, going to the fringes, although I might have pulled back just a little. A deity is always paying attention to the core of its reality, but they usually also keep an eye on the very frontier, just in case. We haven't all been violently torn from existence today, so unless that happens, we'll assume we're ok. Did anything weird happen in-world? Unexpectedly, I mean."
"Not unexpectedly, no."
"Do you have reason to believe you witnessed the actions of the local deity at any time, or that your presence was noted by any divine being?"
"I don't think a god or goddess has ever so much as looked in on that place. It was so small, Amy!"
"That corroborates what we know about the fringe worlds... Now, other than the one you literally brought home with you, Venca-"
"Sorry..."
"-Did any of the other local sapient beings appear to take notice of your foreign nature, or ask questions that would lead you to believe they may be aware of the Gravedigger's Union, its agents, or its operations?"
"No! Just Ver- I-I mean, just the one."
"While in-world, did you notice anything, other than yourself, appearing foreign to the local reality?"
"Nothing."
"I presume being out on the very ass end of spacetime that you didn't run into any members of the TDI."
"Thankfully no!"
"Does the cursed object, hereafter 'the keystone', display any properties that would not be attributable to it otherwise?"
"It's fully indestructible."
"It... Is?"
"Fully! I've actually been using it to relieve stress... Do you want to see me hit it with a sledgehammer?"
"I really actually do want to see that, but for safety reasons, we should probably not take it out of the box any more than we have to. Also, when you say 'fully' indestructible, have you tried fire? Acid? Run electricity through it? Also, please don't use cursed objects for-"
"Ah!" Suddenly excited again, Venca flipped through her papers. "The keystone appears to remain in a 'forced neutral' state until someone comes into contact with it. This forced neutral state precludes any changes in temperature from applied heat or cold, seemingly regardless of the extremity of the relevant temperature. The forced neutral state also looks to alter the keystone's immediate gravity, increasing weight to roughly forty-three pounds, about nineteen and a half kilograms. Neither blunt nor sharp trauma, or any chemical that we have available, acid or base of any concentration, is able to mar the surface, not even microscopically."
"Fascinating... I wonder if all keystones do that, or just this one? I'm afraid to ask, but what happens when someone touches it?"
Flipping to another section of her notes, the Embalmer clarified, "When a single individual comes into physical contact with the keystone, it enters what I'm calling the 'active state'. In the active state, the keystone seems to form a temporary symbiosis with the being in contact. This results in a change of immediate gravity, which renders the object weightless. The keystone's temperature also adjusts in an effective instant to match the body temperature of the contacting individual, not unlike the water in a sensory depravation tank."
"Symbiosis? It's not intelligent, is it? If it is, it's cruel to keep in a box, though I'm not sure what else we'd do... We can't exactly pop some googly eyes on it and introduce it as Sharon from Kansas. Still, it wouldn't be the first intelligent object we'd re-homed, we would make it work."
"The keystone either cannot communicate, or has made no attempt to do so, hasn't moved under its own power, nor has it consumed anything. I have no reason to believe its state-changing behavior constitutes any more than a sort of, well, 'curse', if you will."
"Good, one unplanned interdimensional sapient a day is enough."
"Things really get interesting when a second being touches the object while the first being is still in contact."
"Wait, who else did you get to touch this thing? Besides me, you're the only one who's supposed to know it's here. You didn't involve your interdimensional stowaway in these experiments, did you? Please say no."
"Of course not! I asked the portal operator! They already knew what was going on because we needed someone to operate the portal!"
"I mean they didn't know exactly what was going on, but..." Amy took another breath, sighed. One of these days, this whole organization, the whole universe, perhaps, was going to blow up. "...Ok, go on."
"When more than one being comes into contact, the keystone enters a hostile state. The weight increases the instant the second contact is made to roughly 172 pounds, or about 78 kilograms. The item's temperature also begins to drop roughly a degree and a half centigrade every second, with no 'floor' that I'm aware of. Presumably, if this were to continue long enough, it would freeze the flesh of any beings then in contact to the item."
"So it doesn't like crowds. That's fair, neither do I. Anything else?"
"Submersion in water had no effect on the keystone, although gravity changes are maintained through the medium and it will sink in its neutral state and float in its active state. For obvious reasons, I didn't attempt to submerge the keystone in its hostile state. It will not accept an electrical charge of any kind."
"Now, for the big question... What happened to the keystone's universe once the object was removed?"
"In less than twenty four hours local time, about 22 for whatever reason, following removal of the keystone, all far-end readings went to vacuum. When the astral coordinates are entered, no portal can be opened, no far end data can be received, and all connections are refused. For all intents and purposes, the universe has collapsed, and is unreachable."
Amphira nodded slowly. Keystones. A finishing knot in the grand tapestry. Remove it, and the whole thing unravels. "This is dangerous information. It needs to be disseminated slowly and carefully. I'll take care of that part. You, of course, are not to speak of this. As for the object itself, it is now considered top level classified. In fact..." Her head half-turned, Amy walked over to the box containing the keystone, and placed the lid back on it, then called a mechanical arm using the nearby console to come and take it away. "There. Now it'll spend eternity safe in cold storage. At this point I'm afraid I have to meet your new friend. While I appreciate that you've been trying to keep her under wraps, that won't be quite enough. Let's go."
Nervously, Venca led Amy to the door to her quarters, where Amy stopped her. "All the black leather might be a little intimidating for somebody from one of the fringe worlds, so go in first, and tell her I'm going to be in in a minute, and that I'm a friend." The Embalmer did as she was asked, while Amy waited a moment, and tried to get into 'fringe world mode'. After giving it a good five minutes, she walked in, a big smile semi-artificially pasted on her face. "Hi," she said, trying to sound as friendly as possible while half-worrying about everyone's existence coming to a violent and abrupt end, "My name is Amy. I'm a friend of Venca's, and I need to talk to you for a little while. Is that ok?"
The young woman looked terrified, despite the friendly introduction, and the Embalmers' pre-introduction, which was to be expected. This woman did recently find out interdimensional travel was possible AND lost her entire universe, both of which would be an extra whammy to someone who probably didn't know the word 'universe' up until that point. "Ok..." She said it very quietly.
Amy's immediate compulsion was to hug the poor girl, but she was still present enough to know that a sudden physical approach would probably not be the best idea. "Thank you. First, please understand, I'm here to help. All of us are here to help. You'll need to be a little careful with what you say and who you say it to, but none of us want to hurt you. What's your name? First name only, please."
"Veronica..."
"Thank, you Veronica. May I ask how old you are?"
"I'll be 27 in a few months..."
"That's a beautiful dress. Is it yours?"
"No..." Another frightened look.
"I'm letting her borrow it," Venca clarified quickly, "It's ok!"
"Yes Veronica, that's alright, I was just asking." Amy wanted to make sure no other artifacts might be bouncing around anywhere. She made a note to later gather any clothing that had come from the hot zone and incinerate it. "Veronica, do you know what the word 'mechanical' means?" The young woman shook her head. "That's alright. Do you know what a 'pizza' is?" Another head shake. Amy forced her smile to widen, trying to buoy the mood. "It's a food. It tastes great. We're going to get you some, soon, I think you'll really like it. Venca, once I leave, you're on leave, but unofficially, make sure Veronica isn't lactose intolerant, and then source some pizza for her, please."
"I-I will!"
More questions. "When you go to buy food, how do you get to the place where you do that?"
"I just walk to the dry goods shop... It isn't far..."
"Veronica, are you in any pain right now?"
"No more than usual, miss..."
"Well the usual amount is none, so, where is the pain?"
"All over..."
"Venca, would you give her an anti-inflammatory tablet please?" Veronica hugged herself in the chair she was sitting in. "It's ok, I'm going to have Venca give you something that's going to make the pain go away." This seemed to pique the young woman's curiosity. She watched, fascinated, as Venca drew a cup of water from her sink, and placed a small white object in the middle of Veronica's hand, recommending she get water in her mouth first, and then drop the 'pill' in, and then swallow all of it. She looked over at Amy, the cup in one hand and the pill in the other, seeming to want a second opinion. Amy beamed back, "It's just like drinking a lot of herbal tea, all at once." As she watched the interdimensional traveler take the anti-inflammatory tablet, she internally kept her fingers crossed that it wouldn't trigger some sort of allergic reaction, and thankfully, it didn't seem to.
Veronica frowned. "It still hurts... Did I do it wrong...?" Tears were welling up in her eyes.
You look like a character from The Matrix right now, and you can't just hug strangers anyway, Amy reminded herself, quickly jumping in to cut off that train of thought. "You didn't do anything wrong! It takes a little while to work, but you'll feel better soon."
"Ok..."
The next question was traditionally 'are you a god or goddess?', but Amy felt she could safely skip that one. "Veronica, do you know what 'magic' is?"
"Yes, miss..."
"Are you capable of it?"
"Huh...?"
"I'm sorry, I mean to say, can do you magic?"
"People can't do magic, miss..."
And now, the part that was going to be hard to do without scaring her. "Veronica, Venca and I are really happy that you're here. Some people though, they might be really unhappy that you're here. It's ok! We can protect you, we actually do this all the time." A lot more often than we probably should. "We're going to make sure those people don't find you here by pretending that you're someone else. We're all going to pretend the same thing, so hopefully it will be fun." One day, Amy would take Veronica aside and explain the concept of angry deities coming through portals to destroy their reality because deities tended to get very touchy about foreigners AND deserters, but this wasn't exactly the time. "You'll need a new name. First, and last, and you can have a third if you like. Pick something that makes you happy, anything you like, but nothing from where you used to come from, it has to be totally new, ok?"
This was obviously a lot for someone who had never heard of pizza, but thankfully she seemed amicable, giving a little nod. "Ok, I'll try..."
"Thank you. Venca will help you. She won't need to work for a while, so you two can spend as much time together as you would like."
That was the first thing that seemed to do anything but scare Veronica. She turned her head toward Embalmer Venca and smiled, just a little, but enough. Good... She was going to be ok.
"You also can't tell anyone anything about who you used to be before you started pretending, no details about your home, or..." This was where Amy usually brought up not talking about one's family or friends from the previous universe, however since that universe had recently blinked out of existence, and she expected Veronica was very aware of that fact, she just gingerly sidled past that bit of specificity. "...Or anything like that. I've really enjoyed meeting with you, but I need to talk to another friend very soon, so I'm going to take Venca outside just for a minute, and then I'm going to let the two of you spend some time together. Venca, would you?"
Once the two of them were outside, and the door slid closed behind them, the exhaustion immediately flooded back onto Amphira's face, as if a damn had burst. "Given the nature of our findings, and the fact that you brought an entire person back with you... I'm going to have to bring Roland into this, make it all official. Don't worry, I'm going to tell him it was all my idea, including our friend there. I'll tell him it was to... Find out if a biological organism, if removed from a universe which had ceased to exist, would also then cease to exist, and she didn't, so now she's here. Good enough. You are still not to touch so much as an anomalous atom until I personally return you to service, but you'll have a job to come back to eventually. Hopefully if I remind Roland about that time I saved his life he won't be too pissed, though I expect eventually I won't be able to wring any more good will out of that particular towel."
With a brief glance back at the door, and then the Embalmer, Amphira continued. "She has old world eyes, she'll need contact lenses. Find out what color she wants, and I'll make it happen. Until she gets those, and a new name, she remains in your quarters. Since we're telling Roland, I won't have to do her full naturalization myself, which is great, because there are about five different places I should really be right now. You know how the program works, so you know what she needs to know. Break it to her slowly, but emphasize its importance. I will provide as much administrative support as you require, but officially, you are responsible for her wellbeing. I trust that won't be a problem?"
"No problem!"
"Good. Your names even go together... Well, she's going to have a new one soon, but they did. Make sure she doesn't pick another 'V' name. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go tell a grumpy old robot about the universe I destroyed, the redacted-ass keystone we're now sitting on, and the incredibly dangerous interdimensional traveler I ordered pulled out of a place we aren't even supposed to travel to... Just another day at the office. Have a good morning, Embalmer."
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Edit: Fixed separator sizes. They're always running over just a little bit. * I just realized separators are going to be non-standard based on the zoom level of each individual person's browser. So they might look a little shorter or longer, and they might run over or under than I intended. Sorry about that! Local realities, am I right?
Edit 2: A little bit of polish, one can never have too much.
Edit 3: Added sample intro for Horrible Goblin Band to sample content section.
Edit 4: Added a new writing sample / window into the Dead Worlds / my brain threw up.
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