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Seimtat

Where does one turn when the galaxy burns? What does one do when all that was taught has failed you? Child, the answer is simple. When order fails, you turn to chaos! When they galaxy burns, you let it fill you with joy! They have told you chaos consumes, that chaos destroys, but they did not say that it saves! For they fear this, this simple fact. Chaos is the only answer, for your God-Emperor sits dying, your brothers already dead, and chaos lives fully.

In response to Corgi, this probably won't turn into a story game. That just isn't my preferred way of writing. I am only posting this here because, ironically, this is one of the few websites my school hasn't blocked, so I can freely post and share my stories here while in the confines of school. Perhaps one day I will write a story game...

Mizal, thank you for the in depth proofread! There is only so much my own eyes can catch, no matter how many times I read it to myself. Forgot I couldn't edit after someone replies :(

The bleak rain beat the cobble streets of Heinbrook in the quiet night. Only the town drunk stumbling through the haze of pouring rain and a lone pedestrian, coat drawn tight, to keep the night company. It was a typical quiet night within the bustling port town... then a scream to pierce the veil of rain.

-

The scene was brutal. Thin tendrils of blood snaked into the rushing streams of rain water that ran into the town’s sewers. They seemed like alien appendages flowing from the mutilated women that lay in the darkness of the cold, brick alley. A host of officers blocked the entrance to the alley, and were the only barrier to the gut wrenching crime. It was all that Atticus Ward could make out as his small horse-drawn buggy pulled into the scene.

Pulling down the front of his bowler hat to block the sun’s early rays, he lazily lit a cigarette and pulled out the pocket watch in his coat pocket. 7:25. He thought to himself, it must of been hours that the poor girl had laid there. He took a long drag from the cigarette hanging between his lips before holding up his badge and shoving past the crowd of officers, and soon regretting it. He flinched at the sight of the young women that lay nude and mutilated on the street before composing himself with a grimace, nothing could have prepared him for the gruesome sight.

The women lay completely exposed in the basic sense of the words, but her body was clothed by long, red ribbons of open flesh as countless cuts weeping tears of blood. Her body was shredded in the cleanest way once could shred a human body. Every piece of flesh remaining attached, yet every piece seemed to be hanging by the smallest of strings. It seemed that if even a hair touched her, the precarious human shape would fall apart into a mound of indiscernible meat. Then Atticus noticed the strange absence of mass in some places, and realized that the many of the organs that had kept this women alive had been removed. He nearly hurled.

It was easily the worst scene he had been privy to in is time as a detective in the sleeping port town of Heinbrook. His usual cases consisted of the occasional bout of violence from the various gangs that pushed and shoved for real estate on the wharf. Heinbrook may be small, but it was just south of New York. That factor alone made it a popular stay for the smaller gangs that got pushed out by the big players in the big city. It was close enough to get business from the city, but small enough to be tolerated by the New Yorkers.

The scene in front of him now was obviously not caused by the petty street gangs that ran the docks... it was too brutal. It was not a warning to any other gangs, the location was too obscure, and the fact that it was a woman that lay there in near tatters made it even harder to decipher. Atticus simply could not think of the motive, this was the work of a cold-hearted killer, a psychopath. No one that felt an ounce of remorse could have so thoroughly butchered another human being.

“Seen anything like it before, detective?” A young deputy said, shaking Atticus from his stupor of thought.

Atticus just shook his head at the sight of it, letting out a puff of smoke, but then it caught his eye... just a faint glint. Kneeling down, he pulled a blood soaked, silver card from under the girl’s mutilated left leg and stared in bewilderment. On the silver card, in stark black letters, it read, Opscuro.

Whoops! I meant to add more, but I had to leave it. I just assumed I had finished writing when I came back to it. I was kinda inspired by Tolkien's idea where the Undying Lands and Middle Earth were on the same "planet". I wanted to ask if this world space should be translated to a CYOA. 

I live in Indiana... we literally had every weather icon on the forecast for the week. Indiana weather is bipolar

I have been rolling around the idea of a fantasy world that I have been building on for weeks now. I haven't written anything down, currently its pure imaginative power driving the idea forward. The basis of the world is the cliche balance of order and chaos in name only. Neither is innately good or innately evil, just naturally different. The world consists of five planes that exist upon the world. Ur'nar, the plane of Order, sits in the center around the anchor in which the followers of order gain their power. Ur'nar is then surrounded by a nigh impenetrable mountain range simply known as the Barrier, a plane seperating order and chaos, in which a single pass connects the planes of order and chaos.

The pass is in itself a plane in itself, called Cath, and those who defend it wield a potent force of Order and Chaos to stop those of order or chaos from passing over. This unique power is only useable within the pass of Cath. The pass is defended by an imposing Temple-Fortress that is held by the Blades of Cath to beat back the tides of Order or Chaos seeking to march against the other. Beyond the pass is Ka'nar, the plane of chaos, it surrounds the barrier and Ur'nar, and beyond that is the ocean-like void of nothingness in which the power of chaos flows.

Here in the Dirty Bay, most of those more civilized folks have a certain... image when they think of the people from the lawless island. Of course its true that most  of the scum in Dirty Bay are messy haired, straggle toothed no for good brigands, but Pretty Pete (a very lame name, I know, but don't say that to his face) is very, very different. He is perhaps the most handsome man the world over. Long, clean golden locks, a face chiseled from stone, piercing eyes, and the deadliest blade in the city. Its what he's known for, even if he doesn't have the scars to show it.

He runs a band of some of the most sought after assassins in the whole of Dirty Bay, and each one marked by their near impeccable beauty. Men and women, young and old these backstabbing, quick bladed devils are the bane of anyone with wealthy enemies. There are stories in every nook of Dirty Bay about Pretty Pete's band, some even say that some men willingly take the blade for a night with one of Pete's enthralling devils. 

Now you might be asking, how do you join this deadly band of friends? First off, you got to be lucky enough to be pretty enough to catch Pete's eye... but not prettier than Pete. Anyone prettier than Pete in Dirty Bay face a simple fate, and that's a quick and jealous blade. Now, if your pretty, but not too pretty, you might just be lucky to be taken in by Pretty Pete and his band of lover and killers. Of course its no easy life, your trained in every subject of murder and pleasure, the tools you'll use to kill.

Its a scary life in Dirty Bay, when any pretty face could be the last face you see... but would that really be all that bad?

The concept of the story is for this astronaut to wake up in a familiar, but oddly different galaxy than before. I want to keep a since of realism to carry with the idea that this galaxy he finds himself in is definitely our, but no other humans will be present. It will then move on to surviving alone and exploring what happened in his absence, perhaps with some undertones of horror.

Einstein's relativity is an incredibly cool and incredibly perplexing thing to learn about, its so weird that something so seemingly impossible is possible. I'll keep that in mind, I just learned the math behind it in physics. 

I would like to emphasis that this is simply a way for me to overcome a bit of a thinking block and stimulate some more interesting thoughts, I am not asking for someone to give me a step by step explanation on how to write my story. Now on to Stryker, I am thinking of having it take place in a nearer future with slightly more advance technology that we have today, I want to stick with a fairly primitive humanity. Explaining cryogenics will be an interesting obstacle, but I want to maintain that since that humanity is still on the cusp of space travel. Perhaps having it has a early version still relatively untested and something happened to caused him to be forgotten in his near frozen state.

I am in the very early stages of brainstorming for a story, and I have come up with a concept that interests me quite a bit. The only problem is that there is a hole that I can't find a proper explanation to fill. The idea is thus, a lone astronaut wakes up upon his small ship after being under the sleep of cyogenics for an innumerable number of years, centuries, or millennia even and finds himself in a universe he does not know (humanity is gone perhaps? Somehow transported to another dimension?). Coming to this discovery, he goes about progressing through the story (where ever that may take him). My main issue is, why was he put to sleep for so long? I haven't been able to find a reasonable explanation for such a question that satisfies me, an answer that makes a semblance of logical sense.