View Full Version : Tell the Story
11-01-2007, 09:13 AM
In the genre of a Dark World theme, I put forth this challenge:
Taking from previous posts, together we will design an environment without contradiction of previous posts. For example, Person One describes a room with four doors. He notes the room is a formal sitting room and has all the furniture of that theme within, however all of the furniture and placements are in some form of decay. Person Two <second post> would be very welcome to add to it such as listing something about how the chairs, when touched, would send chills across a person's skin. Or person two could describe what may be beyond the door to the west. Then comes along person three <third post> who describes the smell of the room, or offers another addition to the setting.
So, to begin all of this, I will borrow from another setting I discovered thus giving everyone a chance to add onto it.
11-01-2007, 09:14 AM
The setting: Death's Six Acres is an abandoned piece of land that lies between two states, which both states have declared that devastated ground to be part of the other state. It consists of a blighted graveyard and death related abandoned businesses such as the ruined funeral home, the forgotten church, and other forsaken enterprises. Death's Six Acres has a sinister reputation in the surrounding towns (hence the name)but other than it being abandoned, history records nothing sinister about the place. There are plenty of dead people (it is a graveyard after all) but as far as most people know no-one has died there or even seen anything unusual in the area.
12-24-2007, 05:30 PM
However, history is not always what it would seem. History is nothing more than the personal account of one or more parties who perceive the events of a given time period and record what they consider to be true as fact. In many cases, as is true with Death's Six Acres, those who have recorded history have purposefully mislead others in order to protect them from the truth. The truth behind this seemingly forgotten patch of earth is one wrought with dogmatic figureheads intent on delivering tragedy, malice, and absolute suffering in order to fulfill divine prophecy.
The actual history behind Death's Six Acres is sinister indeed and is yet unfinished. The time for Her awakening has come and gone. Those of us that remain have long since given up hope that she is anything more than a once gifted seer's delusion, as he left this life for the realms beyond. Future Sight is hardly an exact science. Time is often obscured when tracing the intricate and chaotic webbings of the Chronotis. Regardless, if She does exist she is needed now. A champion must arise from the ranks of the Fallen.
The Divine, not seen in our realm for over a century now, have broken through the Rift and have laid waste to the outpost protecting passage to this realm. Soon they will ascend in flurries upon Death's Six Acres and awakening Nocturnis from its slumber will surely be their goal. The devourer of flesh, life, and realms alike may once again walk among us. Will no one stand before the juggernaut known as The Divine?
01-01-2008, 02:45 PM
I forgot about this thread. How about something more like this?
Lillian Luna was petite by most standards. She stood 5'1" and a mere 70 lbs with flame red hair like her mother. Lillian left the comfort of home behind at a young age. She wanted to be a part of the big vibrant world around her dull little home.
The wander lust kept Lillian moving for 8 short years, before she fell in love with a quaint little cafe and it's peculiar little owner. Boris Ithalamus Stout owned a small cafe on the windswept side of Alan lane in the township of Kent. He did a vigorous business and served each customer with an energetic and heartfelt smile. The cafe was famous for miles due to Boris' delicate cinnamon pastries and a robust southern coffee-like drink.
Lillian soon became a regular fixture at the cafe. She was an animated woman who talked with her hands. Lillian's playful lighthearted touching warmed all she contacted. Her light tinkling laugh could bring a smile to even the most sullen cantankerous soul. The love that blossomed between Boris and Lillian was infectious, which brought joy to all the patrons.
She moved into the small apartment above the cafe with Boris, a small price to pay for the love they shared. The flat was small and dark, but soon was transformed into a home.
The red head took to tending a flower garden in the small patch of earth behind the cafe. The flowers took to Lillian like most people did and flourished. Before long, the smell of flowers drifted into the home and cafe. Lilac bushes sprung up near the back door. Tulips, lilies, and daisies added to the effervescent aroma of the area.
One dark night in the fall, two armed men entered the cafe while Boris was closing up shop. They took his life without a second thought as they took the profits from the small register by the front door.
Lillian Luna planted flowers at the grave of her beloved Boris on Death's Six Acres. She sold the cafe to open a flower shop close to her deceased lover. It was a small shop on the corner next to a newer funeral parlor. The shop took weeks to scrub clean and it took the flowers a few more weeks to displace he smell of cleaner and rancid meat.
In the two years that followed, her flowers became quite a sensation. The hybrid plant that grew on Boris' grave became known as the Lunar Lily. It was a peculiar little plant which bloomed each full moon when the weather was fair. The bloom looked like a red tiger lily yet smelled of a spring rose.
Lillian Luna disappeared in the early autumn in the year of her golden birthday. Rumors spread of a violent end for the sweet lady. Those that knew her best, suspected she just left to once again join the rich world that moved by her. Whatever happened to Lillian no one knows, but the Lunar Lily still blooms at Death's Six Acres.
04-30-2008, 08:51 PM
In the genre of a Dark World theme, I put forth this challenge: Taking from previous posts, together we will design an environment without contradiction of previous posts.
Little Maurice was always awed by the sight of Death Six Acres, from the window of his room he could see the Lunar Lilies glitter under the Full Moon's light and when he managed to fool Nana's watchful eye, he will stay awake and stare at the grove, always hoping to see him.
Long time ago (when measured by a small boy) it was summer and the sun will not sat down until the clock was past the 8. That day his mother gave him an early dinner and went to her room because she didn't feel very well.
Disregarding his motherís adivice he walked to Death Six Acres and sat as if waiting for something or someone.
- What are you doing here Master Maurice? - said the old man.
- I am waiting for my father -responded the child, a little startled for the old manís sudden arrival.
- Is he resting somewhere nearby? - inquired the old man.
- Mom said she fell in love with him here, and it was here when both wished for me. - confided Maurice. - she will not let me know which one is his bed.
Then both stared at the starless sky until the moon was very high.
- Well I guess my Son is not coming tonight - assessed his grandpa, - and it is time for me to go back to sleep.
- Thank you for waiting with me - said Maurice with some tears in his eyes.
He gave the old man a kiss and slowly walked back to the house.
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