Recent posts by DarkYoshi on Kongregate

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The World After (Ather City 2) [The End]

[BC, enough. That joke stopped being funny when Velociraptors still roamed the earth.]

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The World After (Ather City 2) [The End]

Originally posted by Gambi69:

[I always thought that my teleportation didn’t make any sound, but now that I’ve read your post I realize how unrealistic that is. Even if my reappearance only takes half-an-eye-blink to occur, there must be SOME sort of sound.]

[In the previous game I described a sort of energy buildup moments before you arrived, with a residual trace energy lingering afterwards. Obviously that was mostly/only Matthew’s point of view, as few things can detect that energy, it wasn’t visible or anything. Also, I think we described a light rushing sound a few times, but I’m not entirely sure. It does make more sense for there to be some sort of sound. Anyway, back to the business of the plot…]

Argent – City of London

My eyes forced their way open, fighting against the light of the morning sun that burned through the open window of my second-floor bedroom. I could hear the hums and whines of the machines starting up downstairs, the chorus of the cafe singing a serenade to the city folk, and beneath that a much deeper, softer drone of the city’s massive generators and factory machines, a pervasive tone heard across the city at all hours. Curiously, the birdsong was absent. An omen, perhaps?

I don’t believe in omens.

“Jenny, close this window, it’s getting cold in here. And fetch my suit… The one with the crimson lining.”
“Yes, my Lord.” The servant girl clicked the window shut, and then started rifling through the wardrobe as I huddled beneath the soft, warm sheets. It was too early to get out of bed, but I had things to do. Meetings to organise. Decisions to make. Assassins to deal with. Forms to fill. Running the city from the back of a small cafe was not easy. But something told me there was a more important task to complete.

After quickly dressing, I made my way down the stairs that led to the back entrance, only used by staff or in emergencies. The door was solid iron. It would be easier to break in by kicking through the wall next to the exit, or perhaps by entering through the front, which was always open, and made of glass and wood. We’d never been bothered by thieves. The guild was led by a friend of mine. And thieves who weren’t guild members didn’t stay thieves for very long. They didn’t stay alive for very long, either.

I left the building through the back alley. It curved round, slipped behind some housing and came out between a bakery and a small office. The streets were empty, this early in the morning, which was good. Nobody to be in the way. A left, a right, second left… Navigating my way through the maze was still difficult, even after so many years here, but I found my way eventually. A small pub, much the same as I’d left it. They hadn’t fixed the hole in the wall. You could still see where the blood had stained the wood.

Lukas was sat inside by the bar, with two younger men next to him. They were similar to him, being strong, tall and well armed, both about my age. I sat down.

“Would you like a drink or something to eat.” The waitress might as well have yawned the question. I dismissed her with a glance, and then went back to business.
“Nice place,” I said to Lukas, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I remember the last time we were here.”
“It wasn’t that bad. The drinks are pretty good, cheap enough too. And the rooms are actually rather nice.”
“Shame about the decoration, really. And the sanitation. And… is that guy in the corner dead?”
“Oh, he’s been there for about four hours and hasn’t even breathed. I’m guessing so.”

A cup of coffee and a bubbling flagon of something bright green arrived on the table. The mystery drink was somewhere between grog and battery acid, and smelled strongly of cinnamon for some reason. I’d stopped being surprised at the things my bodyguard could consume long ago. I looked up and noticed one of the two strangers at our table was hypnotised by the drink, practically drooling.

“So Lukas, who are your friends?”
“These people?” Lukas gestured to the men on his left, and smiled at me. “Nephews of mine, I didn’t even know my eldest sister was living here. I met them while I was out walking yesterday, and thought they would be helpful, since I can’t watch you all the time, and I’m not getting any younger. Actually, I’ll be fifty in a couple of years. Anyway, the taller one is Sam, and the shorter one is Dave. Kids, this is Lord Richard White. He’s-”
“Why are you hanging around with my uncle? You’re just pathetic! Why would he want to talk to you? I mean look at you, with your expensive black clothes, and that tie, and that poncy long hair. You’ve never had to fight in your life!”

David was clearly not the smarter of the two, but he was certainly the louder. He was slightly overweight, and his face seemed to be frozen in a permanent scowl. His bald head and gravelly voice were clearly attempts to make up for what nature hadn’t given him. That list could have been miles long, but topmost would be “social graces” and “intelligence”. Meanwhile, all his brother Samuel had done so far was smile slightly and look around, as if apologising for being related to his brother. We would get on well.

“David, strength does not impress me, and neither does your moaning. You do not yet have the status to interrupt my conversation, regardless of who your uncle is. Learn to respect people, and perhaps they will listen.” I refrained from commanding him, as he deserved at least one chance."
“Yeah, but I’ve seen him rip a man’s arm clean off! I’ve seen him fight a room full of people and win! He’s-”
“That was all self defence, by the way.” Lukas made a point of not killing people without good reason, and he’d become a pretty good conscience in dark times. It was interesting to see that he’d always been capable of landing himself in the worst situations.
“Yeah, self-defence, yeah, but you’re still brutal! You’re a champion, why do you need this pri-”
Silence. Ah, good, it’s not a genetic trait, I see.” His mouth kept going for another thirty seconds before he realised that no noise was coming out, and glared at me, the hatred in his eyes fuelled by my smug grin. Everyone else seemed pretty pleased about it, including Lukas.

I took another sip of my drink, and momentarily caught David’s eye, lifting my bind on him. He would learn his place soon enough, even if I had to silence him every time he opened his mouth.

“It’s a good idea Lukas, but they need to be willingly compliant before they will be of any use. I can’t just command them to defend me, they need to be able to think for themselves.”
“I assure you, they will listen. And they’re good. Trained them myself.” That was all the assurance I had needed.

Someone burst in through the entrance, the door nearly slamming off its hinges. Everyone in the inn jumped out of their seats and drew their weapons. Well, except for the dead guy in the corner, but he didn’t have much choice.

Weapons down. Relax, she’s with me. Gladdys, what the hell is going on?”
“There’s something outside that you need to see, Argent. Now.” She was clearly out of breath, she must have sprinted from the cafe to here.
“What are you on about?”
“There is a dragon above the city! Breathing fire!”
“You sure it’s-” That was a stupid question. How many dragons could there be in the whole of England? And who else would he be trying to contact?

I stepped outside, and turned my head to the skies. High above was a gargantuan jet-black lizard, its great wings propelling it through the air as it spewed fire.

“Argent, how is that even possible? It’s huge, it shouldn’t be able to fly! And how can it be breathing fire?”
“As a great man once told me, a dragon can fly and breathe fire because it is a dragon. That is what dragons do. Now if you’ll excuse me, dear, I have a meeting to attend. Cancel everything I’ve got planned for today. Lukas, come with me.”

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / Forum Games Q&A

I’m not sure if Mystery’s post is sarcasm or hyperbole. But that is certainly a problem, and probably perfectly possible given what some of our more excitable regulars are like.

The main thing is the possibility of people trying to take on more games than they can run. It’s not hard to get things confused between games, especially if you have people with similar characters. Not forgetting that we have enough trouble making our way through games without them stalling only ten pages later, and we always have more mafia games than we can run.

It’s true that there are downsides to this rule, and I’m sure there are more than a few games with fantastic potential that have had to be dropped because of it, but it’s for the best. It keeps things simpler, so less can go wrong.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [FG Related] Happy Birthday to me!

I’d hate to sound like I’m insinuating a cynical, prickish point, but you posted an FG birthday thread a few weeks ago, and then conveniently forgot to update it or bump it to celebrate anyone else’s birthdays. Now you’ve made this thread, I can’t help but wonder: Why not?

Also, good job dicking around with quotes and completely ignoring the topic at hand here, gals and gents. I nearly thought I’d stumbled into Off-Topic.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The Master Thread

Oh I see, using anchors instead of full redirect links. that makes sense. Good idea.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The Master Thread

If you desperately need people I’ll throw my hat into the ring, but I doubt you’ll need me.

And Jaume, I’m not sure what the concern is, all three of those links work for me. Also, the name of the thread and the name of the subforum are unimportant. You can go to if you want and still end up at Forum Games.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The World After (Ather City 2) [The End]

[Right, last bit of backstory. I decided that the other character I was going to introduce wasn’t necessary. I’ve proof-read it, but since I welded it together out of three separate rewrites of this post that all used a few different versions of this scenario it might be a bit choppy. Let me know regardless. Also, is there anyone in my part of the world anymore? Or did everyone get moved halfway across the world?]

Argent – Flashback/Narration V

As I was saying. I’d set myself up at the Blackbird cafe, a hub for my business dealings and a place to relax. I had my noble bodyguard, and my sadistic temptress, and the city beneath my feet, a vice grip on its throat.

I slowly gained prominence while remaining unknown, working through a network of informants and loyal… subjects. It wasn’t long before I had many eyes and ears situated all over the city, devoted followers who would come to me once a week with their discoveries, working in tandem to ensure that nothing went unseen. People would come at all times of the day to discuss matters, or simply to hear me talk. I would tell them things about the future of the city, how it was going to change, who would cease to be of influence, who would rise to power. The people I talked to would spread the word, forgetting that they had ever seen me. In a politician’s career, public opinion was their lifeblood. It only took a few small, believable rumours spread across the city to cripple the distinguished, or promote the insignificant.

Within six years, both sides of the government were under my control, as were the City Guard. Of course, you will remember the Guard Captain, the powerful man with the eagle-embossed armour… He brought trouble with him whenever he arrived, and would not submit to me. He had me under surveilance all the time, frustrated at every turn as he continually heard nothing. Even his best officers could report nothing untoward, having never seen me leave my seat, or even talk to anyone. Eventually, he arrived at the cafe to confront me.

His mind was impenetrable. My sledgehammer blow beforehand managed to make a dent, but even after so many years of practice, he was beyond my control, his will was too strong. Twelve minutes trapped with Gladdys did what I could not, and not a single tortured scream escaped her soundproof chamber. He walked out of the shop minutes later, completely subservient to me and without a single memory of what had occured behind that iron door.

Lukas wasn’t pleased with the idea of using such cruel methods. He and I frequently talked, as we had been friends for years, and he was one of the few people who could be honest with what he thought. Increasingly, he thought I was becoming too chaotic, too dangerous, too unbalanced. Our randomly turning walk had led us through the south-west quadrant of the city, a part of the city often used to store all the people that the rest of civilisation didn’t want. Criminals, the insane, and anyone who was too poor to afford water, let alone housing. I make it sound better than it was, I’m sure. The conversation became fairly heated at this point, when we broached the subject.

“I have to be out of sight, Lukas. And some people are in dangerous positions. The only way for me to remain out of check-”
“What?” Lukas had never had much time for games. He’d spent most of his childhood fighting things.
“The only way for me to stay out of trouble is to control people. If he was someone less important, I could have his superiors remove him, but John has been working in this city for twenty years and is a man of impeccable character, if you ignore his terrible arrogance and brutal approach to discussion. And that isn’t even a flaw in his line of work.”
“So? You can fool people around him into believing he’s done something terrible.”
“No, because there are so many people, and I can’t affect all of them at once. And his removal will certainly attract attention from the wrong people.”
“Yes, but there are conspiracy theorists everywhere, who is going to believe them?”
“Would you rather I had him killed, Lukas? Would you rather I sent you off to remove him, or have an assassin do it for me? Surely this is more effective. And as far as he is concerned, one day he woke up and decided that I wasn’t so bad after all.”
“You must be able to do something about people like him. He can’t be the only one, and you can’t have Gladdys tear someone’s mind open for you every time this happens.”
“Yes, you’re right, there must be a way, but I can’t seem to-”

A shadow in the corner of my eye moved, and I ducked, split-seconds before a throwing knife passed through where my head had been moments beforehand. It tore into Lukas’s right bicep, and he let out a string of seven-letter words. I don’t know what language he was taught by his parents, but it had a rather eloquent and complex approach to swearing. I was just as angry, but it wasn’t the attempt on my life that triggered my rage, it was the sight of the blood leaking down my companion’s arm. How dare he!

Stop.” There was no subtlety behind the command that slithered from my throat, my normally crisp voice taking on a whole new tone, a sinister rage directed at the assailant like a nuclear missile hitting a butterfly. Lukas looked around, both amazed and horrified. Everyone within earshot was frozen stiff, and it took me a moment to realise they weren’t even breathing. I shut my eyes, a brief moment of meditation locking the emotion away. “Carry on, sorry. Not you, moron. Stay where you are…”

As everything went back to normal, I turned to the attacker, his sword frozen in mid-swing. I walked right up to him, face to face, my grim stare drilling a hole through his grey eyes as I grasped his thoughts, drawing all his attention towards me. He started to sweat, the fear on his face clear as he realised how fatal his attack had been. For him. He was only alive on my command, and that would not last for long.

“You have made the worst mistake, my friend. Drop the weapon.” He dropped his sword, which clattered on the cobbles. I carefully picked it up and handed it to Lukas, before turning back to my victim. I didn’t need to use the Voice on him anymore. Using the eyes was more difficult, more wearisome, but much more powerful, and sustaining that glare sapped his willpower until he would even die on command. I had improved over the previous years, and it had become nearly effortless. As long as I held eye contact, he was mine. His fear grew as the man realised he was trapped in his own body.

“Now, what do I do with you?” I let out a laugh that in hindsight was a little too vindictive. Perhaps I’d spent too much time around Gladdys, or perhaps I was enjoying my first real taste of revenge in years. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think you’ll enjoy it. Should I kill you? I think that would be too kind. And after all, why rush things? We have as much time as I desire. I can keep this stare up for hours, you know. Lukas, what would you have me do to this man? Tear him in half? Remove his skull, piece by piece? Rip his leg off for a makeshift weapon to beat him to death with? After all, that’s how you’d treat him if he actually harmed me. I’ve seen you do worse.” I could do none of these things, my domain was inside the mind itself. But the would-be assassin didn’t know that.

“Let him go. We have no use for him, and I’m sure he’s got better things to do than die.” I was surprised, but we’d been friends for over a decade, and I trusted his thoughts.
“You’re lucky. You get to live. But if you ever dare attack me, or anyone associated with me, I will know about it. And you will suffer.” And with that, I let the man drop to the floor.

I didn’t know why he’d attacked me. For all I knew, it was a random encounter with a desperate thug who was new in town, but it felt like something else. He seemed important.

That was four years ago now. Since then, I’ve worked on the City carefully, transforming the chaotic and unruly society into the pleasant populace of a world-class city, run by an efficient government of people who care and are competent. It functions perfectly, even without my attention. Of course, it’s still an industrial eyesore, and even the better parts of the city are full of thugs, but you’ll always get people like them everywhere. It’s a necessary part of humanity.

But on the upside, things get done in Parliament, people enjoy themselves, the guards keep the city safe and the habitable parts of the city are actually habitable now. And there are very few ‘suicides’ any more, which is nice.

[And now to get on with sorting out my exact mission. Don’t worry, I won’t be sat in my cafe/HQ for the entire game.]

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The Master Thread

I’d like to start a charity fund to buy BC a new space bar, as he clearly broke his halfway through that post.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [Forum Related] Bureau of FG Improvement

Username: TheDarkFlame, FlameTheDark, TeeDeeEff, DarkYoshi, CaptainSarcastic… I think that’s probably enough alts.

Favourite game type: Any RP that can let me write pages and pages of irrelevant information and unnecessary backstory. (See: Ather City, The World After, the brief attempt at a Mirror’s Edge game that never really got off the ground, among others.)

Least Favourite Game Type: Spammish above-poster games, most can be summed up as ZOMGWINZORZ R4ND0M LOLOLOL.

Additional Details: Likes writing. Likes coffee. Likes alternate accounts.

All-time Favourite Game: Don’t make me answer this, because I have no idea.

Notable Game Creations: Haven’t written a game yet.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The World After (Ather City 2) [The End]

[Another one, we’re not far from reality now, let me know of any mistakes. I think I got everything…]

Argent – Flashback/Narration IV

Now, where were we before we were interrupted? Oh yes, of course, London.

When we arrived, ten years ago, the first thing we did was look around. Actually, the first thing I did was collapse in agony, and then I slept for nearly two days, and then we had a look around. But that wasn’t part of the plan.

We quickly found out that we weren’t in the safest part of town. I came downstairs to find a sword stuck through the wall from the other side, at about head height. The blade was covered in blood, which had left a small pool beneath it. Someone had moved the chairs a couple of feet back, but apart from that nobody in the dingy inn seemed to have noticed it. On the other side of the wall, the sword was pinning a man up, the blade through his chest all the way to the hilt. His feet were hanging a few inches off the ground, and his blood had painted the wall and the concrete beneath a nice shade of crimson.

I went to the table Lukas was sat at. He seemed in good spirits, and had already started drinking with a few like-minded individuals. There were more weapons at that table than in my father’s private collection. When your uncle is a dragon, you get a lot of weapons mysteriously turning up in odd places. My father enjoyed keeping a record of them and showing them in one of the grand halls. I imagine him and Lukas would get on.

“Move on, you lot. Lukas, what happened over there? Why is there a dead man stuck to the wall outside?” I interrupted his chat, but he didn’t seem to be bothered as his friends wandered off.
“Oh, that? Well, I have no idea what happened, didn’t hear a thing, but that sort of thing is not a big deal here. Just a normal suicide, I’d imagine.” It wasn’t some witty comment, but completely straight, as if he was stating a simple fact.
“Lukas, suicide victims don’t pin themselves to a wall with a sword, especially while in mid-air. Tell me.”
“Argent, you know that doesn’t work on me, too many sharp blows to the skull.”
“Excuse me for being concerned about someone having suffered a brutal death metres from where I’ve been sleeping for the past day.”
“Two days, actually. You must be thirsty, want a drink?”
“Yes, now that you mention it. I assume you want something strong enough to kill a bear?”

Lukas seemed incapable of tasting anything that didn’t contain a gratuitous amount of alcohol and some vaguely dangerous chemicals. The more ridiculous the better.

I looked round at the waitress, who set to work, and quickly returned with a large tray. At one end of the tray was a small white china cup, presumably my coffee. At the other end was something particularly special, presumably not my coffee. The first clue was the fact that it was in a specially reinforced steel mug. It was full of the noxious liquid, which seemed to be alternately bright blue and deathly green, and was bubbling slightly. It barely had time to burn a circle into the wooden table before he picked it up and drained it.

“Nice, but could do with a bit more kick,” he mused idly, and then continued the conversation. “So, what are we doing today?”
I took a careful sip of my coffee while I considered our priorities. “Finding somewhere to stay that isn’t decorated with dead bodies, for a start. Preferably not somewhere too open, but still accessable, and not too conspicuous. Perhaps above a cafe or a diner somewhere, or across the road from one. We’ll need a headquarters that isn’t too obvious, otherwise I might as well go into government myself.”
“What would be wrong with that? You’d make a perfect politician. You can make people believe that they live on the moon, and that the entire city is a delusion. Reporting failures as successes would be nothing.”
“It’s far too tedious, actually being accountable for things. If you’re an unknown, people can’t put the blame on you when things go wrong, people can’t attack you in the street. There’s so much less to go wrong if you work behind the scenes.”
“You have a point. Let’s get going then, there’s actually a rather nice place closer to the centre of the city, I think you’ll like the owner.”
“Do ‘suicides’ happen often over there?”
“Not as often.”

That was as close as I’d get to a good answer, so I let him lead the way. London was like a labyrinth, a mess of curving roads and pathways randomly crossing. There was no logic to it, and the chaos wasn’t limited to the paths themselves. On every corner someone was trying to sell you something, and down every other alleyway someone was trying to rob you, and in between the crowds would charge under, over and through anyone coming the other way. Although we were constantly being watched, we were surprisingly untouched. Crowds parted in front of us. Men in dark alleys backed off on sight. Clearly the events at the Horse’s Head were no secret among the city’s thugs and thieves.

We arrived at the Blackbird Cafe, which was decked out in crimson and black. Presumably to hide the bloodstains. The place was empty, besides the owner, a young woman stood behind the counter. She wore a long black dress, her long dark hair flowed loose from her shoulders. Her pale, pretty face wore a devious smile, one that spoke of twisted, sadistic thoughts. Her voice was sweet and pleasant, but with the same undertones of danger as her smile.

“Oh, hello Lukas, who is your friend?” Her smile was intoxicating, it grabbed your mind and tried to pull. It was a sensation I was vaguely familiar with, but typically from the other side of the fence. Lukas was quick to reply before I could introduce myself.
“Welcome, Lord Richard White of Whitehall, mild telepath and wordsmith extraordinaire.”
“Enough with the fanfare, Lukas.”
“As you say, my lord.” His impression of a butler was horrendous, but managed to get a laugh out of his female friend.
“Yes, I am a Lord, but you can call me ‘Argent’. And no, Lukas is not my servant, he’s my bodyguard, and a friend who likes to overact and embarrass me. And may I ask who you are?”
“I am Gladdys Brooker of this hellhole, mild telepath and painsmith extraordinaire.” She bowed slightly, rather than curtseyed. Not a traditionalist, but still brought up to be polite and well-mannered.

Lukas and I sat down near the counter. The tables were dark mohogany, the chairs covered in black leather with dark wooden trims. The place really kept to its theme, it felt dark but pleasant, and the leather was very luxurious. It would be perfect. But I needed to know more about Gladdys.

“May I ask, clearly you’re a mutant, but what exactly can you do?”
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” That devious smile brightened, and I felt a tug on my brain again.

I was already getting the point behind her ‘mild telepathy’, some form of supernatural seductiveness that poured off her like a smokescreen, and she squeezed it for every last drop. Okay, given the circumstances maybe that was a terrible choice of words. But regardless, it wasn’t difficult to fight through if you were used to telepathic meddling. And clearly Lukas wasn’t head-over-heels either. I wondered briefly what a true telepath would have seen inside his head.

“Okay, Gladdys. Come here, sit down,” She sat in the chair next to me. “Now stand up,” and she stood. “And sit down, and stand up, and sit down, and stand up, and… Do you see what’s happening?”
“Yes. I’m bobbing up and down like an idiot.” Her reply made me realise that I was the idiot, because she was trying to be compliant. I changed tactics.
“Okay. Now spin on one foot,” She performed a graceful pirouette, and then looked at me confused. “Jump, spin again, crouch, lie down, stand up. Now do you see?”
“That… is worrying. Please don’t do that again.” She seemed slightly shocked.
“I can make you forget it happened, if that makes you feel better.”
“That just makes it worse.”
“Forget what I just said.” The command slipped past her without even a blink, subtle and precise.
“That… is worrying. Please don’t do that again.” She seemed slightly shocked.
“Don’t worry! I don’t use the Voice on my friends. There’s no need.” My smile encouraged her slightly, and she smiled back, a clean, thoughtful smile. She’d given up with the aura of love, as it didn’t work on me.

She raised her right hand parallel to the floor, palm up, and shut her eyes for a second. The devious smile came back, and she beckoned to me. “Give me your hand.” I extended one arm reluctantly, not too keen on the idea of whatever she could do. I knew it involved pain. She took my hand carefully, turned it over a couple of times, and then let go of it, leaving it suspended. She then, ever so carefully, touched my forearm with a finger. It was like a blast of lightning firing from my wrist to my shoulder, setting fire to my nerves as the white-hot pain stabbed-

She lifted her finger, and the pain was gone as suddenly as it came. There wasn’t a mark on my arm, even though I’d have sworn it had been on fire and full of knives moments before. Gladys then lightly touched Lukas on the shoulder, sending him convulsing to the floor for nearly a second. I wasn’t surprised that it worked on him, but I’d seen him literally pull a knife out of his shoulder after being stabbed. The amount of pain it would take to bring him down…

“Oh, looks like I overcalculated it. Sorry…”
“No, no, I’m fine. I’ve been through worse and lived! Oh, reminds me of good times, I remember a friend of mine back home could do that too. This was before I ended up in Garland, of course, no mutants there. Oh, by the way, Gladdys, did you know you can remove pain with that?”
“Really? I never thought to try.”

They were getting on marvellously, and I let Lukas discuss our situation while I surveyed the building. It had numerous spare rooms, presumably it had been a thriving business with many employees living above at one point. Most of the rooms were empty and dull, except Gladdys’s room, which was behind a big iron door that had been bolted shut. How interesting, and slightly worrying.

We made the cafe our home, and our headquarters. It wasn’t long before it became a popular place, mostly thanks to some helpful persuasion, and partly due to the charm of the three people working behind the bar. We had to earn our keep somehow, and during our breaks I could give quiet lectures and give orders to my rapidly growing network of followers. While it was always good to have the Voice to persuade people, I needed it less as I became more and more charismatic every day, my natural ablities finally given room to grow in the grand, galling city.

Within a year, the place was busy through the day and into the night, and my network of people not only included people from all over the city, but all types of people. Not just working men and women, but also various politicians, intellectuals, guardsmen, and even some mutants who had found their way here. The business was an incredible success, and Gladdys had hired enough people to give all three of us supervisory management positions, which meant we could sit around and effectively do nothing all day if we wanted. We spent most of our time sat at a round table in the back, where I issued commands to my various contacts and followers.

The board was set. I only needed a couple more pieces, and a few more years, and I would be in control of every sector of the city.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The Official Forum Gamers Birthday Thread

2nd of May.
Edit: TheDarkFlame on an alt here, in case you didn’t know.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The World After (Ather City 2) [The End]

[Another long post, sorry. Now I’ve introduced the new incarnation of the City of London. I haven’t described everything, as I’ve only just arrived, but I’m sure you get the basic idea, and it’s ten years ago in terms of game time so there’s room for change. Again, if you do read this, please let me know of any errors.]

Argent – Flashback/Narration III

When we arrived, just over ten years ago now, I was amazed by what I saw.

When you think of England, you think of a place where tradition meets modernism, and of course you think of the capital city, London. It was a grand city, with a mix of centuries-old stone towers and cutting edge steel-and-glass skyscrapers, the shrines of success sparkling like diamond jewellery amongst the dark monuments to history, and the river Thames snaking through the centre like a ribbon of silver in the gleaming sun. At least, when it wasn’t raining.

This was not the London I arrived in. That London had been flattened decades prior, and in its place was an uninspiring fortress of steel, vast plumes of steam and smoke pouring from the various chimneys and towers that littered the skyline. The pollution hung in the air, a thick, dark cloud of decay. The entire city was enclosed within the industrial complex, and I could see from here that there were many gates and checkpoints to get past, and a platoon of soldiers watching the area. One false move…

“My powers can’t help us here. There is no way I could delude so many people, especially in these conditions.”

It was too early to admit defeat, but we had to be reasonable about this. I’d tried using the Voice on a crowd when we stopped in Aleston a few moths beforehand to pick up Lukas’s belongings. I called a large group together, disguising the experiment as a discussion on mutants and humanity. Every time I used my influence on them, they took straight to it, but I really had to concentrate on what I was saying. Otherwise, they weren’t properly gripped, and started to disagree. It was something I’d need to work on.

I looked up at the great steel wall. I still didn’t know why I had to get to London, but I wouldn’t give up now. I couldn’t see any way round. I looked for hidden doors, but any that were there were hidden. What a surprise. The outer shell looked surprisingly smooth, no rivets or panels to grip onto, so climbing over wasn’t an option.

“We could always just walk in,” my companion pointed out. “There’s nothing saying we can’t enter the city.”
“I don’t imagine they’d build this great wall for nothing. And we haven’t found a single town yet that would let a mutant in.”
“You managed to get into all the other towns pretty easily.”
“True, but that’s not the point. And most towns so far have had guards that were even worse than Simon back home.”

I sighed, exasperated at the sight of the last hurdle. But our only option was to head onwards, and try to get in through the heavily guarded entrance. The two men in front of the entrance were armed with large, curved blades, and heavily armoured in solid steel. Something told me they weren’t for show, they really knew how to use those weapons. We walk towards them, hoping that things weren’t as bad as they seemed.

“Welcome to London. Surrender your weapons and prepare to be searched.” The taller of the two guards addressed Lukas. Apparently I wasn’t a threat, which was pretty much true. He put out a hand to take Lukas’ blade from him, while keeping a careful grip on his own sword. My companion complied, but as a professional bodyguard, mercenary, and weapons collector, he had a lot to surrender. He handed over the longsword on his back; several throwing knives stashed in various places; two daggers from inside his boots; a long strand of thin, sharp wire; a case of smoke bombs; a bag containing various chains and restraints; a sickle from inside his jacket… It would have been quicker to just get ourselves killed. The guard didn’t seem too pleased either.

“And the pistol, sir.” The old firearm landed on the pile of weapons with a thud, apparently from thin air. Lukas wasn’t a mutant, but he was far too good at hiding the weapons he was so skilled with. The guard at the gate came forward to collect the pile of razor-sharp steel and started to catalogue the items, swiftly followed by Lukas. There was too much for one person to carry. Meanwhile, the first guard turned his attention to me. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but he didn’t seem sinister.

“Why are we doing this?” I asked, careful to appear worried. It wasn’t difficult.
“We need to make sure all people inside the city are properly accounted for, and that they are not a danger to the citizens of London.”
“Well, what happens to my friend?”
“Oh, your friend will be fine, don’t worry. We see people like him every week! Although I have to admit, that was impressive.” A slight smile appeared on his stoic face. “Ridiculous, and completely useless in a fight, but impressive.” he added, as if to remind me who the real warrior was here.
“I do have one more question… Are there any mutants in the city?”
“Oh, there’s loads. You’re not scared of mutants are you? Or perhaps you’re scared of the anti-mutant crusaders?” He winked briefly, then continued. “We’ve got both here in London, so either way don’t you worry, you’ll come across them soon enough.”

It was a good thing I’d become used to hiding my power. I’d spent months learning how to not use it and how to avoid detection, which had saved my life numerous times. Some parts of the country had full-blown “witch hunts”, where people who could detect mutation would lead mobs to find and destroy mutants. Somehow, it never occured to the mobs exactly how their leaders could perform such a feat… After I’d overcome the fear of being discovered,I’d started playing with these people and turning the tides on them. It had become so much fun. But that’s another story. I smiled at the memories, and then remembered why I’d asked the question.

“But… what about the wall? If anyone can come in, why is there a huge metal shield around the city?”
“Oh, the more ‘wild’ mutants around here tend to be rather feral and violent, every night masses of them try to get in. They’re nocturnal beasts, but we’re still well prepared, just in case they get any ideas.” I made a mental note to stay indoors at night.

Lukas returned, fully armed, and we were free to go. I didn’t know what was waiting for me inside the sprawling city, but I’d come this far. I led the way inside, carefully keeping clear of the nearby guards. Lukas had no such concern, barging his way past the largest among them, probably for fun more than anything else. This guard’s armour was more ornate than the others, with much more polish. There was a large eagle embossed across his breastplate. Clearly he was some sort of captain, and the look on his face told me he was not a man who tolerates disrespect, especially from civilians. I caught the captain’s eye, and a sharp glance allowed me to change his mind.

“If I see you do anything like that again, there will be trouble!” the armoured man promised, and we carried on walking. That millisecond of effort had been physically tiring and mentally painful. Wordless commands were more subtle than speaking, but it was much more difficult, and something I’d only done a handful of times.
“I agree with the guard, Lukas. That was insane, tackling the officer in his own city. Did you see his armour?” I’d tried to sound annoyed but I barely had enough energy to sound awake.
“Well, he shouldn’t be on the streets if he doesn’t want to deal with civilians, I’m sure he’s got a nice pedastal to stand on somewhere. Anyway, you know how to deal with these problems, and you said yourself only last week that you need a bit more practice, and you work best under pressure.” His easy-going manner and crafty smile normally helped put me at ease, but the pain was too much, and it just annoyed me more.
“No, I work harder under pressure, and get terrible goddamn headaches for my effort. It feels like someone’s trying to take my skull apart with a crowbar.”
“I don’t think you know how that feels. There was this one time, when I was still a kid, down in Devon. I was really in trouble, cause this guy had me in chains after I’d-”
“I’m not in the mood for hearing a story of how somebody nearly killed you, Lukas. Wait until you’ve found us somewhere to stay. Please.” The voice didn’t work on him, but he obeyed me regardless.
“Sure, there’ll be an inn or something nearby.”

We eventually found a small place, quiet, and not too unreasonable. It was only just gone midday, so Lukas went out to explore the city, while I collapsed onto one of the beds. Whatever I was here for, it had waited five years. Another day wouldn’t hurt.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The Master Thread

Half intended. I wrote it, then deleted it when I decided it was too terrible to post. Apparently, my hands disagreed.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The Master Thread

As long as you write properly, act reasonably and hang around for more than five minutes, you should fit in fine. Names are a good first impression, but first impressions can be very wrong very easily. You’ll get respect and trust from what you do, not who you are.

I’ve always been terrible at creating names. I’m not kidding, it took me the best part of an hour to decide to call my character for Ather City “Matthew”. That’s right. A single name, not even with a surname, took me almost an hour. So don’t ask me for names. I’m good at ideas, but names… names bug me.

EDIT: This is a TDF Alt. Sorry for any confusion that may or may not arise.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The World After (Ather City 2) [The End]

[This next post is a goddamn chapter and a half in terms of forum games posts, and all wasted on a simple prelude to a prelude to the actual events. Sorry about that. If you do bother to read it, please let me know of any typos, tense errors, or whatever. And I promise I won’t do too many of these before I hit the main story. I’m just not too keen on mixing flashbacks and current events.]

Argent – Flashback/Narration II

Every day for at least a year, I thought about what I’d seen, what I’d done. I’d been free for less than a week and I’d already succumbed to my twisted curiousity. I’d killed a man with a word, I’d looked into his eyes and seen his mind switch off. So many thoughts and feelings raced through my brain as I constantly replayed the moment… Regret, shame, anger, and a few I’d not anticipated, dark thoughts of pride and glory, not to mention satisfaction. A side of myself that I didn’t know existed. I was extremely scared when I thought about what I was capable of, but also amazed and intrigued. Why did that even occur to me, to see if I could kill that man? What sort of demented sociopath would think something like that?

Well, me, clearly, but that wasn’t a helpful answer. I went to a different, more answerable question: What would I do with my power now? I wanted to never use it again, but I quickly realised that I couldn’t stop it, no matter how I tried. I could only hold it back, turn its barked commands into sly suggestions. It was there, whether I wanted it or not. But it helped, knowing it was there gave me an unrivalled confidence. It was impossible for me to falter, as I could get out of any situation and avoid any violence, and if all else fails…

No. I would use the Voice, but I would never let that happen again. At heart, I was not the sort of person to kill, maim or torture.

Past tense very much intended.

I carried on with my journey without a proper map or a guide, following vague directions from random people across the south of England. I learned much on my travels, but nothing about navigation, so I was soon in completely the wrong part of the country. I moved from place to place every day or two for several months, living in makeshift shelters and generally suffering a hellish existance. I ended up in a town called Garland, a small place which seemed rather civilised and quiet. I was in a proper state when I arrived. My nice suit was wrecked, my cheap backpack was falling apart, my food supplies were running low, equipment was breaking, and I hadn’t had a shower in weeks.

I soon found out why the town was so peaceful as I walked through the gates. A sharp, metallic sound made me turn to see a man hidden inside a small enclosure built into the walls of the gate, pointing a gun at my face. I smiled at the guard behind the weapon, who wore a bizzare red and silver uniform, mostly cloth but with a metal skullcap. The face beneath seemed young, nearly my own age, and rather inexperienced. He tightened his grip on the rifle, readying his trigger finger. The timid young man who had left home for the first time so many months ago would have been scared out of his wits at the sight of a gun, but dealing with real people for all that time had changed me. I say, for the better.

“Stop there! What is your business here?” he demanded, in an attempt to sound powerful and intimidating, like a peacock’s feathers to an expert archer.
“Who are you?” I ask quickly, cutting him off before he can do anything daft. For a second, he blinks, confused.
“I’m Simon Porter, guard on duty at the South Gate. What is your business here?”
“Oh, I’m just looking for somewhere to stay. Actually I’m trying to get to London, but I’ve no idea where I’m going so I thought someone who can help me might live here. Tell me, is there anyone who can help?”
“London is miles away from here, but I’m sure Lukas could-”

He froze in mid sentence, and raised his gun again. He was helping a complete stranger, giving him important information, rather than doing his job. Something odd was going on, and he fretted slightly as he tried to regain his composure. He blinked once or twice, something I’d started to notice people doing after I’d been too forceful with my powers. I was yet to master the art of breaking into the minds of other people, and when I first started using it, it was about as subtle as a sledgehammer. But he swiftly continued with his interrogation.

“Who are you and where are you from?” he growled, in a pathetic attempt to regain control of the conversation. I thought it best to play along.
“Oh. My apologies, how rude of me. My name is Richard White. I’ve been travelling for a while, but used to live at Whitehall Manor, near-”
“White? I’m sure I’ve heard that name before.”
“Yes, we’re a rather rich family, used to be part of the nobility. In fact, my great-great-great-great uncle Amadeus was 37th in line to the throne once, back when there was actually a throne…”
“Wait, I remember… You’re a mutant! You can’t be in here!”

He put the barrel right in my face, the cold steel less than an inch from my left eye. I swiftly decided that playing along wasn’t going to work, and that I had to take control. Taking control was something my family had been doing for centuries, ordering around the common folk, the servants, and whoever else happened to be in our way. It came naturally to me, and the voice helped. Nothing better for ordering commands than a clear English accent.

“Put that down! Do I look like a mutant to you?” My tone could have cut diamond, and I didn’t need the Voice to make him listen. I’d scolded him like an irate father, but I’d also inadvertantly applied the Voice in full force. He dropped the weapon as if it had caught fire, panicked, and then scrabbled to pick it up again when he realised what was happening. He brought the gun to my face again, but his hands were shaking too much to be of any use.

“Your family are known mutants, and whatever the hell you just did probably means you are too! Get-”
“What? I didn’t do anything. I asked what time it was, you went to get something out of your pocket and your gun slipped out of your hands.”
He put the gun down, blinked again, and shook his head as if to throw off a headache. Too many blows of the sledgehammer.
“Yeah, yeah, I remember, sorry. It’s been a long day. It’s a quarter past twenty.” he told me after a swift look at his pocketwatch. Crisis averted, but I’d have to cut the conversation short before the stress killed him.

I tried to step forward, but he put his arm out to block me. “Your name is White? Well, I’ve heard your family are mutants. We don’t allow mutants here.”
“Are we? Well, I’m sorry to dissappoint you, but I missed that gene. Look, I’m perfectly normal.” I hoped that last suggestion wouldn’t put too much strain on him. He hardly blinked.
“Yeah, I suppose you are. Okay, I’ll let you in.”
“Thank you. Where is Lukas, by the way?”
“The house with the dark-red door over there.”
“Good, thank you. Oh, and make sure you get something for that headache, you really don’t look well.”

I walked through the south gate and into the main road of Garland. The town’s buildings were old, but well-maintained, all comprised of dark clay bricks. The streets were clean, the gardens were looked after, and after seventeen months sleeping under half-built shelters or inside borrowed tents, often in the pouring rain, the place seemed incredible. It reminded me of home, but without the sight of a dragon in the skies. I still missed the old place.

I met Lukas almost immediately. He was a tall man, clearly strong, and had some interesting scars across his body. He’d been a number of things, a mercenary, a swordsman and knife-thrower for a circus, a “pest” exterminator, and had led a very challenging life. He still seemed very jolly and friendly. I envied him that. Our conversation was far too long to recall, but we quickly became friends. He first gave me the name “Argent”, as he felt “White” wasn’t refined and impressive enough for someone with “regal blood” as he put it. At first it was simple mockery, but the name caught on, and was gradually adopted by everyone else in the small community. I lived in that serene town for nearly a year before I finally convinced Lukas to join me, and lead me to London.

I didn’t know why, but I had to get to the capital.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The World After (Ather City 2) [The End]

[these next posts will be large-ish jumps in time, so don’t try interacting with me yet. You will have to warp time, causing a wormhole and making the universe fold in on itself, and probably explode like scenery in a Michael Bay movie.]

Argent – Flashback/Narration

So, fifteen years ago, I left home for the first time. I left behind the decadence of a rich lifestyle, and the joy and safety of being home with my family. I regretted it pretty quickly, but I couldn’t go back. I had my own path to forge.

One thing I remember the most about the first few months after leaving home, is the shock. It was… alarming, but I suppose I didn’t know how the real world worked back then. I’d never known the brutality of life, sleeping on the broken concrete that used to be the street, hunting rats for food… I’d never even had to put up with bad mannered people barging past me. My world was a pristine mansion, loving parents, faithful servants, and a watchful dragon. Now I just had a few servants, and some unnecessary supplies.

The road that led towards London was in a state. Nobody used cars anymore, or even horse-drawn carts. Those that did travel had to walk for long, painful hours. I led the way, which may have been a mistake. But at least I learned a little more about the world.

It was day… three? Four? Perhaps day six, I’m not sure, but we had been walking several leagues a day, every day. We were tired, and everyone needed some rest. We stopped at what might be called a town, if you could make a town out of random detritus. Most of the area was populated by people living in battered tents, with a few haphazard wooden shacks on the north side. Probably the home of the landowner and his family, as it was clearly the more upmarket part of town. I made my way through the maze of tents and ropes, keen to see if the person in charge had any supplies. It was stupid, but I didn’t understand how the real world worked.

As I made my way up past a large purple tent, a cable snagged my leg and brought me to the floor. No, not a cable, a chain. A grim cackle from behind me told me everything I needed to know. I rolled onto my back, and was greeted by a man who looked like he’d been in more fights than the entire Spartan army. His face was a mass of old scars and anger, his voice was harsh and deep. His friends were worse.

“Look what we’ve got here, lads! Expensive suit, proper shoes, we’re in the money with this one!”
I panicked, I couldn’t think. I knew I was going to die. “Get off me! Leave me alone!” it was half shouted, half cried.
“Hahaha, so should I play with your friends instead? Oh, too late!”
He stepped back, and I pulled myself up. A quick glance told me that my servants had fled when they spotted the bandits. It was just me, and I was surrounded.
“Leave me alone! Get away!” I was still scared, but there was more Voice behind the command, and the men backed off slightly, confusion on their faces.

One raised a steel pipe, ready to swing for me, but his arm refused to move. I was surrounded by thugs who wanted to kill me and steal everything I owned. I was entirely safe. The thought raised my confidence. I looked him dead in his dark blue eyes, a glare that drew every ounce of his attention, and spoke, the Voice in full flow, drilling the words into his brain.

“Drop it.” It clattered as it hit the cracked paving slabs, and rolled away a few feet. The bandit’s eyes widened in fear.
“What are you doing? What’s happening?” For the first time in what must have been many years, he felt vulnerable. He felt threatened.
Refusing to blink, I still had him in my grasp. I decided to try something I’d once discussed with uncle Amadeus. I spoke again, one single word.
“Die.” He started sweating and shivering, the fear flooding his brain.
“Wha-what are y-y-you doing? Stop! Stop it! I-”
“I said DIE.”

He dropped to the floor with a sickening thud, eyes still wide open. There was no fear anymore. There was nothing. I looked up from the corpse, and the other men were gone. Problem solved. I grabbed my small crate of stuff, hauled it to the main hut and settled down for the night. The next morning, I set off for London, this time in the right direction.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / Atomic Analogies [Closed Until Further Notice]

Maybe I’m wrong, maybe there is a hitherto unforseen option, but practically all the entries so far are people trying the same sorts of words, so I can’t be the only one thinking that he’s turning them away because it’s not the exact word he’s after, just one that means practically the same thing.

If he is doing that, then people are going to stop bothering, as per my point.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / Atomic Analogies [Closed Until Further Notice]

Induction : ? :: Soldier : Priest

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The World After (Ather City 2) Sign-ups [closed]

This post is going to be a bit fractured, but I’ve had trouble thinking recently, and I was completely at a loss on how to write this guy’s backstory. Nevertheless, this will do, I suppose.

Richard White. His friends call him Argent, and his subjects call him Lord.

Argent is originally from the South of England, as evidenced by his clear, crisp accent which isn’t quite Queen’s English, but still shows his cultured and affluent heritage.

A thin, pale man of about five-foot seven, around 35, often wears expensive tailor-made suits and bespoke leather shoes. His long dark hair is tied back tightly with a silver ribbon, to show off his handsome face and charming smile, as well as his piercing neon-green eyes that glow slightly as they draw you towards him.

An intelligent man known both for his silver tongue and dark humour, he is very keen to talk. He is eloquent and charming, with unending reserves of charisma. He is considered wise and thoughtful, and often stops to shake hands and talk to the people he meets, even during important and time-consuming business. However, he has a very cruel edge to his polite manner.

His power over other people is phenomenal, as shown by his devoted followers. His very prescence instils an overpowering sense of confidence and trust in those around him. His smooth voice and pleasant smile compell listeners to believe every single word he says. His powerful eyes put a vice-grip on your mind and force you to follow his command. Or at least, this is what is said by those who are less attatched to their sanity. In truth, his ability to control and coerce does not stem from his voice, or his eyes, but from his mutated DNA, and is an ability that can be utilised in many ways. It is so powerful that few can challenge his control. Effectively, he has a very powerful form of mind control, coupled with a reasonable level of telepathy, allowing him to play with people’s thoughts.

A non-combatant to the extreme, he lets his entourage perform any dirty tasks that may be required. However, his control is fully capable of overriding most people’s survival instincts, which he greatly enjoys watching. Even fairly harmless remarks can be damaging in his voice: What do you think happens when you tell a person to go to hell, and they absolutely have to obey?

A small, nearly forgettable percentage of people are what we call “talented” or “special”, although the correct term is “mutant”. They are capable of great things, and this makes them dangerous. Most have an advantage that puts them above and beyond what any regular human can do, and of course this earns them much resentment.

Are you surprised, that there are people who do not like mutants? You shouldn’t be. It’s human nature to hate, to draw lines in the sand and arbitrarily declare that those on the other side are wrong. Call it jealousy, xenophobia, or a nonsensical, barbaric mental artefact from the days of tribes living in caves… But it still amounts to the same thing. Hatred. Some people even form mobs, and these mobs hunt for mutants, and kill them. But how? How do you challenge someone who has such power? I’ll give you a hint: Most of the time, their power only starts to emerge during their teenage years.

When the town crier announced that my mother had given birth, there were many meetings in darkened rooms and hidden basements, the less accepting townsfolk discussing what should be done. Some families, like my own, have histories of mutation, and so it was obvious that I would also be “special”. The White name was synonymous with bizzare happenings, and had been for two hundred years, ever since my (great, great, etc) uncle Amadeus started to grow scales. You would think two centuries is enough time for anyone to get used to these sorts of things. Apparently not.

So, my childhood consisted mostly of being locked inside the grounds, constantly under supervision, in case some twisted soul decided to take matters into their own hands. It was unlikely, as I was often watched by uncle Amadeus, who is intimidating enough to put off even the most stupid potential kidnapper. Dragons tend to have that effect. And so, my early life was relatively uneventful.

Now, I mentioned that mutations tend to manifest at a specific age. I was different, which was typical of me. I had been born with my abilities. As always, Amadeus worked it out first, mostly because he was the first person who ever said “no” to me, but also because my tricks didn’t work on him. You try telling a dragon what to do, and see how far it gets you. Meanwhile, my parents still believed I was a regular human. But they wanted the best for me, and gave me everything I asked for. Sometimes I wonder about that.

When I turned twenty, my parents finally decided to set me free. They thought I’d somehow skipped the mutation completely, and didn’t want to taint the free life I could have without the burden of being so radically different, and I didn’t want to tell them otherwise. I left the next morning, with nothing but four servants, one bodyguard, a few sets of expensive clothes, some ornamental weaponry, and several bags of gold. A naive young man, let loose into the world, with so much potential and so many opportunities.

And I had to end up here. If they could see me now…

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / Ather City (Main Game)

X17 [Matthew]

I found the access hatch I had escaped from. The main chute went down for about a mile, and there were deep impressions in the wall where I’d made my own handholds, forcing my fingers into the steel. It hadn’t been disturbed since, a layer of dust coating each surface.

It was once an elevator, but after the disaster, the Second Soldier project was cancelled and all access to the destroyed lab was closed off. It was perfectly plausible that behind one of these walls, there were corridors leading to more labs, some of which could still be in use.

Breaking into a top-secret weapons-research lab unarmed certainly sounded like a suicide mission. Normally I’d consider this to be a walk in the park, but I knew what this lab was capable of. I had accessed the terminal inside the lower lab before I destroyed it. They made weapons, and the S2 project was an attempt to go one step further into the battlefield, and enhance their expertise in the art of war until nobody could match their capabilities.

Although I had been the most expensive, resource-hungry project in Aether history, I was decades-old technology now, even though I looked as good as new. I doubted anything they had made since could match the innovation involved in my own creation, but in the decades, it was inevitable that some bright spark had created something incredible. Unless it was a handgun that fired full-size longswords at the speed of sound, I wasn’t impressed.

I slid down several metres, leaving thick grooves in the steel, and prised a sheet of metal away from the wall. Behind it had once been a set of elevator doors, but they were welded shut, presumably with a great deal of effort. I forced them open anyway, tearing the once-static doors out of the doorway. They plummeted down the elevator shaft, clattering and screaming against the sides as they fell. The hallway beyond was empty, silent. I searched and found nothing. The computer terminal was busted, the technicians had fled, as there were no bodies. The corridors and laboratories were empty.

I headed further down, and tore off the next door.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [sign ups] RP legends

Question: Do you mean “Android” or “Cyborg”? The two are different; An android [andro-: male/human][droid: robot] is a machine that is built to look human, like C3PO. Meanwhile, a cyborg [cyber: robotic][organism: living thing] is a mesh between living matter and mechanics, such as Luke’s replaced hand, or most of Darth Vader.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [sign ups] RP legends

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The Master Thread

Yeah, I have a few alts that I used to use to lurk in several rooms at a time. I don’t do that much anymore, but I still use them occasionally. This is one of those occasions, and I can’t be bothered to re-sign in. So if this happens again, you’ll know why.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [sign ups] RP legends

Nice idea, but shouldn’t we have a general RP wiki, rather than a wiki purely for this one game? I mean, regardless of how complex it is, I doubt it will require an entire wiki of stuff, even if it spawns sequels.

And I am so going with cyborg, but I’ve already got one punchtastic deathbot in an RP. I’ll post the sheeet once I’ve decided how I want this one to work.

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The Master Thread

I would like to put myself forward as a regular, since I’ve been here for a while now, and I’ve certainly shown that I can contribute, having constructed a lot of background for Aether City and produced a lot of plot ideas and such.

Edit: Okay, wrong account. TDF here.