- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Genres
- High, low, dark, urban, historical (fantasy)
Paranormal.
Supernatural.
Post-Apocalyptic.
Action Adventure.
Sci-fi.
Dystopian.
Cyberpunk.
Futuristic.
Horror.
A mash up of any of the above.
In a long forgotten tomb, deep beneath the Hollowlands, where darkness itself was created, in a place that few knew of, and even fewer dared visit stood the last of them.
Shackled ankle deep by the very stone itself, millennia of limestone that had grown one increment at a time by the constant drip drip, drip, of mineral laden water. A hulking behemoth, a monument unto itself.
A single glimpse revealed that it was not of this world, and was never meant to be. Only by the initial abeyance of the elders were these 'others' brought to serve man, to raise them up from the mud and onto shimmering cities, each built on the backbone of the civilization before, raising immeasurably higher as they cored their world for materials, burying their secrets beside their salvation
It towered in the chasmic column, its body shaped similar to man -- two arms, and two legs emerging from a torso -- yet the comparisons ended there. The tallest man in a generation would scarcely meet the shin of the imprisoned beast, this old one. It had no navel, for it had no mothers umbilical from which it was wrought, its chest was tall and muscular, no atrophy in sight from its dormancy. Broad shoulders towered even higher above the observation deck, a level that once provided grated metal bridges and catwalks that had buzzed with activity in times long ago, now coated in the same slick rock face of the cavern. Its head was of the a slick, rubbery, sickly green flesh that coated every inch of its body, waxy with the latent moisture of the underground enclosure. Two deep inlaid eyes the color of raw cobalt, multifaceted gems, which saw in all directions simultaneously. The thing was faceless behind a mass of tentacled protuberances that hung limply, writhing almost imperceptibly in its stillness. The large boney spines that crowned from its shoulders ran down its back and scraped the cell walls, where the rock slowly crept down them towards its hunched spine.
Cruel reminders of it purpose threaded his flesh, as cables, pipes and pumps -- now crystallized under a thick layer of stone -- wove into and out of the great beast. Making him appear even further as part of the natural formation of the cavern than the elder thing he was. He was the beating heart of this cavernous complex, a forgotten source for all of the energy that the humans scrambled to use with reckless abandon. And as long as he remained tethered here in the graveyard of over a thousand years of ruined earth, he would not be going anywhere.
His kind were sealed away in these deep vaults in a mutual exchange, but eventually they grew weary of the way those that had been gifted to the visitors were forgotten and no longer valued. The humans grew complacent, and one by one, his kin vacated the realm, as he intended to. And yet as his companions left, a strange thing happened. Their burdens heaped upon him, and all of the power needs of this world were siphoned from his limitless energy, which began to feel uniquely, and mortally, limited.
There was but one who still remembered this place, a vigil passed from grandmother, to mother, to daughter, for nearly a thousand years.
View attachment 6647
" Dirae?....Dirae?....Miss LaFeyette!"
Deep amber flecked with iridescent obsidian blinked lazily in response, dilated pupils stared, unfocused, then retracted forcing blurry outlines into recognisable forms. She blinked again, attention drawn to the source of her disturbance. A warm inquisitive expression, eyebrow arched in curiosity. Her friend and colleague stood, still watching, waiting for an answer to the unspoken question
"I'm sorry Elliot, I was...I was…" her smooth forehead crumpled slightly "er, daydreaming apparently." A small embarrassed smile crept across her face.
"Hmmm, perhaps." Elliot, not convinced of the simplicity of the answer, but also not inclined to press his closest friend for information she would not freely give. " It's nearly closing time." His head inclining towards the exit.
Dirae now more firmly in the moment, glanced around the old place, her place. Warm, welcoming and safe. No harm could come to those inside these walls, it was a peculiarity of the building, caused, she suspected, by it's location deep in Exodus, the very oldest part of the Hollowlands.
The old man from whom she had inherited the bar, claimed it was one of the first places built with the energy harnessed from the warp. That back then intent had been as important as function when it came to creating something. That if something was to be effective in its form and not merely generic, the very essence of it needed to be understood.
North had sat, eyes milky white, unseeing, staring right through her, his frail boney hand gripping hers, skin cool to the touch as his life began to slip away. "Each stone caste to build this place has the name etched into it and you must never try to change it. As long as it is Sanctum, that's how it will remain. There will never be trouble inside these doors, and non not welcome can cross it's threshold." His words held true, in the 36 years Dirae had called this home, nor in anytime that was still remembered had anyone had come to harm.
No mean feat for a place stood amongst the foundations of a city where the rule of law came only if convenient.
The Amber eyes subconsciously shifted their attention to the clock at the far end of the bar. An almost imperceptible hint of irritation flickered across them before, Dirae's attention was demanded elsewhere. Moving swiftly but precisely between tables, long taffeta skirts swished with each turn. The host cleared away empty glasses and ensured her patrons well catered for before resuming her post behind the bar.
There was a pitched ringing as the bell by the door swung wildly, an excited youngster, perhaps no older than 13 barreled in barely able to contain his excitement.
" Dirae! Elliot! Did you hear!!" bright hazel eyes danced gleefully, before gesticulating wildly to the embedded monitors on the back wall. " Check the news...he's downed a drone carrier, A DRONE CARRIER!!"
There was a sudden eruption of murmurs and hushed exclamations, heads swiveled, and necks craned towards the direction of the still blank screens.
Dirae arched an eyebrow turning to Elliot who simply shrugged. Swiping her hand across a console behind her the nine screens on the far wall leapt to life, six contained an overhead shot of the smouldering ship, three contained individual reports from other channels. A hush fell across the bar, as reports ranging from pilot error to terrorist attack came in, but those seated in that bar, deep in Exodus, they knew what had taken down that carrier.
The young boy hopped onto a bar stool to watch whilst Dirae slid him a soda, and from then until way past closing time nobody moved. An uneasiness settled in Dirae's golden eyes as she watched the images on the screens.
Long after the last customer had left, tables had been cleared and the heavy bolts slid across the doors, Dirae wandered restlessly through her apartment above the bar. The burning embers of warp trapped within her sputtered and flared, for now it was bearable, often it was not. Often the power roiled, and raged threatening to find an outlet regardless if it took her apart. These episodes were gaining in frequency, what may have occurred once a year or so, it now whispered almost constantly, flaring to a peak every few months. Each time more painful than the last.
Sweeping down the hall she grabbed a long hooded coat, pulling it on as she made her way swiftly down the stairs and out into the streets. Staying in the shadows, navigating the maze of narrow alley's she knew so well. She had walked them often enough in the last 20 years.
This city never slept, people chose their preferred hours and lived within the cycle that suited them the most. Down here where it was always damp, where you could smell the dank rocks and earth amongst the heavy synthetic scents of humanity, the light never changed, you were always surrounded by either the deepest black or a neon glare.
Everywhere people spoke in hushed tones, theories of what happened that night and why took flight,
(( The status Quo, Dirae wishes to find away to free her charge. but it may decimate the city. The rebellion want the children of Dust the city leaders to stop harvesting the warp touched for power. At the moment Everyone is in conflict. Pick a side , send me your character, altho very little here is a no except straight up magic. Using the warp as a warp touched will gift your character pushing their natural capabilities way beyond any normal human beings, this applies to both physical and intellectual abilities.))
Shackled ankle deep by the very stone itself, millennia of limestone that had grown one increment at a time by the constant drip drip, drip, of mineral laden water. A hulking behemoth, a monument unto itself.
A single glimpse revealed that it was not of this world, and was never meant to be. Only by the initial abeyance of the elders were these 'others' brought to serve man, to raise them up from the mud and onto shimmering cities, each built on the backbone of the civilization before, raising immeasurably higher as they cored their world for materials, burying their secrets beside their salvation
It towered in the chasmic column, its body shaped similar to man -- two arms, and two legs emerging from a torso -- yet the comparisons ended there. The tallest man in a generation would scarcely meet the shin of the imprisoned beast, this old one. It had no navel, for it had no mothers umbilical from which it was wrought, its chest was tall and muscular, no atrophy in sight from its dormancy. Broad shoulders towered even higher above the observation deck, a level that once provided grated metal bridges and catwalks that had buzzed with activity in times long ago, now coated in the same slick rock face of the cavern. Its head was of the a slick, rubbery, sickly green flesh that coated every inch of its body, waxy with the latent moisture of the underground enclosure. Two deep inlaid eyes the color of raw cobalt, multifaceted gems, which saw in all directions simultaneously. The thing was faceless behind a mass of tentacled protuberances that hung limply, writhing almost imperceptibly in its stillness. The large boney spines that crowned from its shoulders ran down its back and scraped the cell walls, where the rock slowly crept down them towards its hunched spine.
Cruel reminders of it purpose threaded his flesh, as cables, pipes and pumps -- now crystallized under a thick layer of stone -- wove into and out of the great beast. Making him appear even further as part of the natural formation of the cavern than the elder thing he was. He was the beating heart of this cavernous complex, a forgotten source for all of the energy that the humans scrambled to use with reckless abandon. And as long as he remained tethered here in the graveyard of over a thousand years of ruined earth, he would not be going anywhere.
His kind were sealed away in these deep vaults in a mutual exchange, but eventually they grew weary of the way those that had been gifted to the visitors were forgotten and no longer valued. The humans grew complacent, and one by one, his kin vacated the realm, as he intended to. And yet as his companions left, a strange thing happened. Their burdens heaped upon him, and all of the power needs of this world were siphoned from his limitless energy, which began to feel uniquely, and mortally, limited.
There was but one who still remembered this place, a vigil passed from grandmother, to mother, to daughter, for nearly a thousand years.
View attachment 6647
" Dirae?....Dirae?....Miss LaFeyette!"
Deep amber flecked with iridescent obsidian blinked lazily in response, dilated pupils stared, unfocused, then retracted forcing blurry outlines into recognisable forms. She blinked again, attention drawn to the source of her disturbance. A warm inquisitive expression, eyebrow arched in curiosity. Her friend and colleague stood, still watching, waiting for an answer to the unspoken question
"I'm sorry Elliot, I was...I was…" her smooth forehead crumpled slightly "er, daydreaming apparently." A small embarrassed smile crept across her face.
"Hmmm, perhaps." Elliot, not convinced of the simplicity of the answer, but also not inclined to press his closest friend for information she would not freely give. " It's nearly closing time." His head inclining towards the exit.
Dirae now more firmly in the moment, glanced around the old place, her place. Warm, welcoming and safe. No harm could come to those inside these walls, it was a peculiarity of the building, caused, she suspected, by it's location deep in Exodus, the very oldest part of the Hollowlands.
The old man from whom she had inherited the bar, claimed it was one of the first places built with the energy harnessed from the warp. That back then intent had been as important as function when it came to creating something. That if something was to be effective in its form and not merely generic, the very essence of it needed to be understood.
North had sat, eyes milky white, unseeing, staring right through her, his frail boney hand gripping hers, skin cool to the touch as his life began to slip away. "Each stone caste to build this place has the name etched into it and you must never try to change it. As long as it is Sanctum, that's how it will remain. There will never be trouble inside these doors, and non not welcome can cross it's threshold." His words held true, in the 36 years Dirae had called this home, nor in anytime that was still remembered had anyone had come to harm.
No mean feat for a place stood amongst the foundations of a city where the rule of law came only if convenient.
The Amber eyes subconsciously shifted their attention to the clock at the far end of the bar. An almost imperceptible hint of irritation flickered across them before, Dirae's attention was demanded elsewhere. Moving swiftly but precisely between tables, long taffeta skirts swished with each turn. The host cleared away empty glasses and ensured her patrons well catered for before resuming her post behind the bar.
There was a pitched ringing as the bell by the door swung wildly, an excited youngster, perhaps no older than 13 barreled in barely able to contain his excitement.
" Dirae! Elliot! Did you hear!!" bright hazel eyes danced gleefully, before gesticulating wildly to the embedded monitors on the back wall. " Check the news...he's downed a drone carrier, A DRONE CARRIER!!"
There was a sudden eruption of murmurs and hushed exclamations, heads swiveled, and necks craned towards the direction of the still blank screens.
Dirae arched an eyebrow turning to Elliot who simply shrugged. Swiping her hand across a console behind her the nine screens on the far wall leapt to life, six contained an overhead shot of the smouldering ship, three contained individual reports from other channels. A hush fell across the bar, as reports ranging from pilot error to terrorist attack came in, but those seated in that bar, deep in Exodus, they knew what had taken down that carrier.
The young boy hopped onto a bar stool to watch whilst Dirae slid him a soda, and from then until way past closing time nobody moved. An uneasiness settled in Dirae's golden eyes as she watched the images on the screens.
Long after the last customer had left, tables had been cleared and the heavy bolts slid across the doors, Dirae wandered restlessly through her apartment above the bar. The burning embers of warp trapped within her sputtered and flared, for now it was bearable, often it was not. Often the power roiled, and raged threatening to find an outlet regardless if it took her apart. These episodes were gaining in frequency, what may have occurred once a year or so, it now whispered almost constantly, flaring to a peak every few months. Each time more painful than the last.
Sweeping down the hall she grabbed a long hooded coat, pulling it on as she made her way swiftly down the stairs and out into the streets. Staying in the shadows, navigating the maze of narrow alley's she knew so well. She had walked them often enough in the last 20 years.
This city never slept, people chose their preferred hours and lived within the cycle that suited them the most. Down here where it was always damp, where you could smell the dank rocks and earth amongst the heavy synthetic scents of humanity, the light never changed, you were always surrounded by either the deepest black or a neon glare.
Everywhere people spoke in hushed tones, theories of what happened that night and why took flight,
(( The status Quo, Dirae wishes to find away to free her charge. but it may decimate the city. The rebellion want the children of Dust the city leaders to stop harvesting the warp touched for power. At the moment Everyone is in conflict. Pick a side , send me your character, altho very little here is a no except straight up magic. Using the warp as a warp touched will gift your character pushing their natural capabilities way beyond any normal human beings, this applies to both physical and intellectual abilities.))