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Messages - Venandiaer

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1
Zone of comfort: The Couch, in front of the TV
They want something: Nachos.
Unfamiliar situation: Cupboard is empty. Car is broken.
Adapt to it: Walk to shop.
Get what they want: Buy Nachos.
Pay a heavy price: Not fit, exhausted from trip.
Return to their familiar situation: Eat Nachos on Couch.
Having changed: Accept walking is good for fitness. Should get out more.

I am a poet.

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RPG - Fantasy Faction Style / Re: RPG 2018 Chit Chat and Nonsense thread
« on: October 18, 2018, 10:43:04 PM »
Can people still join and/ or is this still being written? (aka can I join?)
Oh yes, please do! We seem to have hit a wall, so if you can bring us out (figuratively and literally out of inside the megalodon, hehe), I'd really appreciate it ;D

I've written my contribution to the story. I hope it gets someone else wanting to move the story along, since my character has suggested a vaguely/ not really plausible way out.

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RPG - Fantasy Faction Style / Re: Port Quinta de la Rosa
« on: October 18, 2018, 10:16:33 AM »
“Oo, oo, Oi!” A voice rang throughout the gloom of the Mega-Megaladon. Those on deck looked up as a figure appeared out of the fishy gloom, rising from the oesophagus of the Mega-Megalodon. Amongst the dankness of the monsters innards, deep orange eyes glistened. Something was inhuman about this figure, as he levitated on some kind of carpet. Short, and thick set, covered in heavy orange hair.
"An Oranghutan?" Scarlett questioned, as the creature came into view.
"On a magic carpet?" Henry said, while searching for another shoe.
Olfred face was pale as he began to speak at a million miles an hour. "Impossible, Orangutan's were declared extinct by the gibbon-enthusiasts of Fantasy Asia eight years ago. Plus any magic carpet for transportation is banned, since the incident with the lava tiger and..."
As Olfed spoke, the creature in the distance raised his arm in a lazy greeting. A deep booming voice cut off Olfred's words. “What a cacophony of muddling you homo-sapiens have found yourselves in.” The simian smiled down, rising both arms. “But rejoice, for the Mega-Mega-Monk is here. He will guide you out of this piscine tartarus, if you wish. He shall proceed towards the gills! Or the anus, whichever you prefer. May your biology lessons pay off!”
"It talks! That's it, I'm out! I don't know what that is but I'm calling the RSPCA, or whatever this world has." Olfred muttered.
"Call the Fishmongers Union while your at it." Henry suggested. "We have enough sushi for all of that country we just came from."
The Orangutan glared. "Are you coming or not, or do I have to do another motivating speech for you fools? My splendiferousness only goes so far."
Scarlett looked at him. "Who are you again? I don't like your tone."
"Oo, Oo, OO!" The Orangutan Monk raged.

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RPG - Fantasy Faction Style / Re: RPG 2018 Chit Chat and Nonsense thread
« on: October 18, 2018, 01:35:01 AM »
Can people still join and/ or is this still being written? (aka can I join?)

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RPG - Fantasy Faction Style / Re: RPG: Rules, Questions, & Discussion
« on: October 18, 2018, 01:27:56 AM »
Is the new 2018 RPG story still moving along? I saw the last post was late september. If it is still going can I join?

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[DEC 2017] Alien or Eldritch Artifact / Re: Feedback Loop
« on: February 06, 2018, 08:41:10 PM »
Thanks for the feedback Matt, much appreciated.

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[DEC 2017] Alien or Eldritch Artifact / Re: Feedback Loop
« on: February 05, 2018, 07:04:58 AM »
If anyone had any feedback for my story, I'd be interested to hear what anyone thought.

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[FEB 2018] WASIASGYNDL / Re: [Feb 2018] - WASIASGYNDL - Discussion Thread
« on: February 05, 2018, 06:59:36 AM »
I thought I came up with an idea for this month... but then it slowly warped as I wrote, until it just became akin to what I normally write. Writing something unfamiliar is a lot harder than I expected.

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Sure, If you, ScarletBea, think that would make it easier for people to read, that would be appreciated.

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I have also voted. Lots of really interesting ideas, I feel I should of thought about mine for longer after reading some of those.

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I finally got round to writing another entry! Yay me... Hopefully it's good. Third tries the charm right?

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Just Like Clockwork- 1,467 words.
Spoiler for Hiden:
Just like clockwork
Where am I? These words appeared in my head, but they are not what I am really thinking. I know the answer to where. But I actually think who. Who am I? I have nothing, no food or water to quench my hunger and thirst. No place to lay my head, or clothes of my own to keep me warm. I am wandering, pointlessly. Am I waiting to die perhaps?

For that was the problem you see, I did not remember. It’s not like I was looking back into a fog, catching shrouded glimpses of what is lost, nor did I feel any need to seek a past. There was just nothing, and I felt as if I have not lived, no, not existed at all. And that idea was horribly unnerving. But of course, that was impossible. Looking at myself, I must have lived for at least two dozen years.

Yes, those were my thoughts for many days and nights, the number which I lost count. Until one night, when a passer-by found me. He cared for me for two days until I was taken to a city in the shade of the great mountain, where I came to join the soldiers. Yet, the man who cared for me, he said something very strange. He warned me to tell no one of this, but when he searched he could find no heartbeat. 

And that is where I come to properly answer my first question. Where am I? Well, I am in the soldier’s quarters, in the city that I now live. I also am intensely unnerved by the great mountain above, almost as much as I am by my lack of memories.  Yet, I try to forget the encroaching discomfort. I find some comforts, one being the kindness of my commander and his men. They told me tales of their exploits, unquestionably exaggerated, and they each spoke excitedly of the future. They seem to me not to care for the past, holding hope in the future. Perhaps I too can be like them. The other comfort I find stranger, a calmness I gain from gripping a well-worn blade. This sense of comfort I could provide no explanation for, neither to myself nor to those I slowly grow to care for.

And then that day came.

It came forth from the great mountain, the most ancient of citadels. A mighty grumbling and a groaning, we all heard it, under the mountain shadow. As it shook the earth, the people of that city were filled with trepidation. The southern face of the mountain-cliff collapsed upon itself, turning to dust. And from that dust it came.

Everyone stared wide-eyed, confused, awed, horrified, as it came.

A woeful machine, twice as large as the Imperial Palace itself, its shape too intricate to describe in its true detail. Never-the-less, it was as if the great projects of men had all been combined together. Its base was like some galleon, only many components jarred this vision, as arms jutted out like extensions of a house. Great towers, observatories, and countless other things rose from the base, and amongst all these: gears, lights, jewels and rune-letters beyond my own or anyone else’s comprehension.
 
So there I was, blind to my fate, a sword my only comfort and possession in the world. Something beckoned. Click, Rrrr. I gasped, a great pain ripping through my chest. Like a dagger wound, I wanted to scream, or writhe, but I could not. I was pulled, compelled, to where I did not know.  A voice entered my head, and I perceived its wish.

The heart-pain now slowly fading. But a pain of another kind lingered. A message, turned into twisted desire. It ripped at my mind, blurring any thought. Faces before me, some known, some not, and the single word. Kill.

I feel something in my chest, something not felt for a long time. Is it life? Click, Rrrr. It hurts. 

And as all this transpired, it came forward. That thing, the dastardly machine. It forded the rushing river with ease, and moved to the city. It did not stop, not one bit, as the wall crumbled before it. The people were in uproar, but not only because of the great machine. There were… other things. People, but they were not, as an unfortunate soldier found out, protecting a pair of civilians. He soldier swung his sword at the man-thing, hitting it hard, but the blade did little more than fall to the side as a clang rang out.

A patch of skin hung from the man-thing, the creature. He turned, his pupils turning and twisting. The skin hung ragged, but what held the soldier’s horrified gaze was the infinite gears and springs, whirring, buzzing, and humming from where skin had been. “You must be removed. You must be stopped.” The creature’s voice seemed to tick, an almost soothing cadence to its rhythm. The soldier was struck dumb, as these clock-men brought death to the town.

I was lost in the confusion. That implanted ideal, that alien desire still lingered, but I had so far suppressed it. As I fell to the ground, sharp rocks ripped at my skin, and the sun shone on metal. Indeed, at this time, I truly sensed the truth of my existence. Yet I refused to believe it. I was not some contraption of gears and springs. I didn’t know who I once was, but I didn’t care. Everyone in this town had wanted to be something, to have a future. So did I. 

“Do not fear the slaughter that heralds the future of mankind!” A mighty voice rang out, resonating through the city. One of the towers of the great machine began to bend and twist, like some serpent, facing the city square. Twelve great spires were its teeth, and two mighty windows of stained glass were its eyes. The machine shook, and seemed to gasp a strange air. “I am the Wayfinder, here to open a way for all, to the power of the new world. Others would lead you otherwise, wishing to take this power from you, but do not fear!” The great machine roared, the head rising proudly. The fearsome machine raised a single arm, high above a clock-man, and with a whirr that resonated through the city, came down upon one of the clock-men, crushing him. Two other clock-men stood nearby, and with a slow but mighty groan the house-sized arm collided into the clockwork pair, crushing them also.

“You see, I come to offer you protection and to lead you on the path of knowledge. Come, do not fear what you do not understand, for I will teach you. The clock is ticking!” The murderous machine roared once more.

The clock-men by this time were turning, turning to run, fear on their faces. Click, Rrrr. Again, that pain in my chest, that desire in my mind, but different this time, not violent but fearful. Run. Harder to suppress, for it was more logical, and closer to what I truly wished.

No. I would not give in to this madness.

Click, Rrr. The voice in my head returns.  The voice of the wretched machine. You were never weak. Suddenly faint shadows clawed at my mind, were they memories? A man of vast intelligence, desperate, working endlessly, hiding his work. A keeper of knowledge. Ancient knowledge. They do not deserve it, they must not have it, he says.  He prepares a twisted spectacle, a calamitous show for the future of man. Preparation for a revival of his own design. Many hollow clock-shells he creates, in the likeness of his greatest work. Endless data he hides within this great work. This great construct he reared like his own, till it spoke and thought as men. Forgive me for testing you child.

Click Rrr. My chest screams with a pain above all others. Return to me Cartra, my child.  Ah! I scream as my body begins to buckle, yet my legs move toward the great machine. They cannot resist its call. His call. Join me, as we lead these people to the true dawn!

The words of the machine, the words of the father ring in my head as I lose control of my body, and my gears sings a dreadful song. I remember now. That machine. That man. He wanted to start again, reset. And I couldn’t stop him. It went just as he planned. Just like clockwork.

Part of me still tries to fight. But that part is buried, deep beneath gears and springs, magic runes and circuits of forgotten origin. Part of me still wants to be free, but that thought is chained hand and foot. Gears grind, as the present me says good bye.

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My favourite was the Original Battle for Middle Earth. I also remember Aragorn's Quest, playing them on both PS2 and Wii, and realizing they were two entirely different games (Both in the "okay I guess?" category.)

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 I have been experimenting with writing in different time periods, and that brought me to the question of historical civilisations.
 I find myself wondering,I'm taking inspiration from all sorts of historical civilisations, but it's a fantasy setting in another world, so I don't call any of the Civilisations their historical name. I wonder if this is problem, even if much of the inspiration is blatantly obvious.
 On a side note, when I do "races" I would call any version of elves, elves. Hence my doubting myself for the Civilisations.
 What's your opinion's?

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[MAY 2017] Music / Re: [May 2017] - Music - Discussion Thread
« on: May 01, 2017, 06:48:00 AM »
Just wondering... came up with an idea and started writing, and if (IF) I submit something, I noticed due to the setting and various other reasons of what I have started, it might have some swearing/ strong imagery. (Not going the pretty music route). Anyway, would I just need to maybe add something at the top of the entry if it does ending up being as such?

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