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+---- Thread: THE INQUISITION MARCHES | AU (/showthread.php?tid=8892)
THE INQUISITION MARCHES | AU - ORPHEUS - 01-07-2019
[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]/ this is longer than i intended but it's just an au with an online game based around creating and growing your kingdom in whatever style you want. orpheus's kingdom is on fire and his cat is useless.
Life always seemed to speed up after January 1st. The holiday rush slowed to a fuzzy peace the week of Christmas — after the shopping buzz, spending the day with loved ones lulls people into a quiet few days that went by like molasses. But then there were resolutions, goals, people getting back to work and making up for the holiday weight gain. Families parted ways, classes started up for students — now Orpheus doesn't really have anything like that. No strong family ties left, and he'd graduated from college a few short years ago. His Christmas had been the lonely kind of slow, though he had adored the light flurries of snow this area often entertained during winter. It could get bitingly cold sometimes, and every now and then the snow could rise up to your knees, but he loved that too. It meant staying indoors with his cat and hot chocolate.
And thankfully, now that the work week is over, he gets to really stay inside. Instead of struggling to get to work an all that, or struggling to get through work, or — you get the point, really. The young man is wrapped up in a blanket as he sits at his desk, his body folded so he can cross his legs on the chair's seat. Even though he had only been there for a few minutes as his computer booted up, a fluffy tortoiseshell cat has already made itself comfortable in the hollow between his knee. The subtle purrs make him laugh softly, fingers carding through silky fur until his screen finally flashed with the colors he had been waiting for. His favorite game's loading screen was a soothing thing, with soft, earthy tones and gently flickering shadows. The music playing in the background seems... Hopeful, in the way it rises and builds.
It wasn't anything special, with a moderate fan base, but the idea of building his own kingdom was pleasant and the graphics were gorgeous. Anyone staring could choose from anywhere in an incredibly open map with varied terrains — his own was settled at the edge of a forest and river, with mountains rising high at the city's back. A relatively peaceful place, but unfortunately, the world didn't pause when the game turned off. Today, he comes back to chaos in his peaceful little kingdom. A fire broke out in the forest thanks to a careless scientist — figures — and although the river kept it contained on one end, it was carving through farmland on the other. "Fuck," Orpheus mutters, leg shifting in annoyance until his cat stirs in irritation, rolling to his back and lifting a paw into the air with a quiet mrr? of confusion. "Sorry buddy."
But choosing not to waste more time and his poor society's farmland, he opens up the local chat reserved for the kingdoms within a relatively short distance to his own.
sxnshine: could anyone spare troops to help fight a fire? i have other resources i could trade
It's a little ridiculous to be so worried about people who are unnamed, computer-generated pixels, but watching his population drop slightly with every fire unable to escape the blaze makes him anxious. Though he hopes for some sort of message back, Orpheus busies himself with managing what he can. Unlock the gates to the city and the castle, allocate more money and resources to the city's hospitals, open up more spaces for those fleeing the fire to rest, move the stables closer to the mountains. "Promise you won't let me be a king in real life, Cassio. Even if someone begs me." The cat, of course, just purrs in his sleep. "You're so helpful. Really. My hero."
Re: THE INQUISITION MARCHES | AU - Grimm - 01-08-2019
[align=center][div style="max-width: 420px; line-height:120%; font-family: arial; font-size: 8.5pt; text-align: justify; margin-bottom:5px"]Lull, a moment suspended within the hectic race to reach the conclusion of the year and draw together the final loose strings, woven into the grand scheme of things so new may arise with the wishes many would forget, fragments of want formed within drunken stupors, such was unfitting to this place. Quiet had it grown, traffic of the past few weeks trickling away though minimal had the increase been within the first case, a great many departing what had become a wonderland of its own, wrapped in a heavy layering of alabaster powder. Secluded this little patch, within the perimeters of the small town nothing more then a cluster of houses contained within a residential area and the necessary stores amongst them small businesses slowly finding their footing.
It was pleasant, quaint almost.
Chilled the glass beneath wandering fingertips, catching the condensation along it, working up until he ran his finger along the rim. Faint the click of claws along the surface of the wood, the thump of a tail making contact with the wall or an object set low enough, yet above all was the heavy panting breath. Weight settled in his lap, warmth within the heavy press of it yet so too was there moisture, lines of drool gathering on his pants. Thoughtless the movement of hand, gentle as he rubbed at the spot between the golden ears. Pleased was the huff of breath from the dog and his weight shifted, settling further until the chair moved, pushed as the weight of the large animal settled, back legs sprawled until he was largely supported where his head rested in Keyne's lap.
Routine had it become, no matter the weather the pair wandered for a time, enjoying the biting chill within the confinements of heavy clothing for him and a blanket torn up and given various holes for the scruffy mess of a dog, ending here. Small was the child, barely filling the old chair, elbow propped upon one arm while the other worked into the heavy golden fur, waiting. It mattered little what happened within the world beyond their secluded little corner, slow the pace of life within the town as it roused itself from the haze left in the wake of the years end, little left to keep him entertained.
Curiosity rose and he reached for the mouse, harsh the light of the screen as it flickered to life. Set out before him the desktop was bare, the image of mountains choked with fog broken by a few icons, one mindlessly clicked on and on he went, searching for something that may occupy his mind for a time. Brief the hum as the colours changed, dark tones of grey and off-white changed into rich shadings of earthen tones, the game starting with a few base notes before it rose into something more complex, wonderful the tune of it though brief its time.
Before Keyne was low set land, the rocky terrain that filled the valley between snow choked mountains cleared until a settlement had been crafted, much of the buildings a mix of stone and wood though some showed signs of construction, better material being used in this. All too small were the people scurrying about, animals amongst them little more then points of colour, the view looking down on them from up high. Scrolling in some Keyne spent a few minutes studying the scene, realising rather quickly the progress of the settlement had likely been nothing more then a distraction from work his father indulged at times.
Startling was the sudden sound, a few notes meant to be musical, a red dot appearing along the menu. Tentatively he clicked it, offering a soft hum when the window opened, the simple structure of it containing a few messages though most were dated a few days ago, well wishes for the new years and conversation left for a time when those conducting it might pick it up once more. The latest was dated only a few seconds ago, his hands hovering above the keyboard as he read it again.
thedxctxr: I think I do or uh....
thedxctxr: how do I give you troops
There may well have been a better way to go about things, nothing more then a few clicks like to get him the answer without the need to pester the other within this time of need. “Dad's gonna kill me,” Keyne spoke beneath his breath though no other then he and Dalton were presence within the house at that moment, loosely holding the mouse while his other hand worked into Dalton's fur once more, scratching at the base of his ears while he awaited a response or another offering help.
Re: THE INQUISITION MARCHES | AU - AMBROISE - 01-13-2019
[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]Christmas was his least favorite time of the year, and not so much because he had no one to spend it with. He just...hated everything about it, and everything it brought with it, so he was glad that they'd made it into the next year. At least the holiday buzz died down, although there were still radio stations playing Christmas music; it'd probably have to pried out of their cold, dead fingers. Everything else, though, returned to the uneventful. He fought off his editor, the weather, his shitty moods, the birds in the morning- not that he was successful, but at least he tried. This was a rare moment of relative relaxation, despite his tendency to get a bit too involved in what was an overall basic kingdom game.
Wasn't as though he had anything else to do, but his editor would say otherwise.
Fuck it. Ambroise was too embroiled now, one hand on the mouse, the other groping around the several coffee mugs on his desk, searching for the one that wasn't tepid. He'd have to warm another cup up if they'd all gone cold and disgusting, but thankfully, after a bit more groping and grimacing, he found the mug still a bit warm.
His kingdom was going smoothly, he liked to think. It wasn't the most desirable location of those available, but that was why he liked it. That, and it reminded him of the view he'd get glancing outside, where the dense tree-line waited. It wasn't thick without the leaves, but when they returned, visibility was a distant dream, and he liked it that way.
Besides, in the game it gave him plenty of wood to trade. Farming wasn't as rewarding, but hunting and fishing were, so what he needed he could easily make exchanges for. He was in the middle of checking everything he'd hoarded when the rare conversation side-bar leaped to his attention. Ambroise frowned into his coffee, which he had to swallow with a disgusted noise- he'd grabbed the wrong one. "Hn."
He didn't answer yet, leaving the chair to grab the pot of coffee, fore-going a mug since at least this wouldn't be as easy to confuse. Didn't take him long to limp back, settling back down with a restrained grunt at his back's protests.
stopputtingxinusernames: i might could spare some
Ambroise wasn't the help center, so he wasn't going to toss a word of advice to "thedxctxr." Besides, he was busy offering help already to "sxnshine," which manifested in the form of two little minions with water buckets. He never said he was going to give them good help.
Re: THE INQUISITION MARCHES | AU - skullcrow - 01-14-2019
/ help i didn't mean for it to get this long
For the thirty-year-old heiress of a multibillion-dollar international business conglomerate, the holidays were hell on earth. Meeting after meeting had all but worn through her high heels, and even her favorite pair of sturdy work boots left blisters on the soles of her feet. Her sleek undercut kept reverting to its natural form of thick dark waves in the middle of the day; ducking into bathrooms to slick it back again ate up precious minutes. She'd begun packing a thermos filled with honey lemon tea to combat the neverending phone calls. It was only a matter of time before spreadsheets invaded her nightmares.
On Christmas Day, she'd returned the well-wishes her mother and sisters had texted her while she flipped through files she'd been poring over since four in the morning. She could still recall the presents she'd sent them. The original of a painting by Chairman Metaxas's favorite Renaissance artist. Money for Lachesis to gamble away. Vicuña wool that Clotho would knit into sweaters for her cats. Seeds from the Rothschild's slipper orchid, which Eunomia's greenhouses had been sorely lacking. A generous donation to the law school from which Dike had graduated. For dearest Eirene, an antique baby mobile, one that her infant daughter would surely enjoy.
"It's lovely, Atropos," her youngest sister had told her in a voice like birdsong through the earpiece she wore while driving to work. "It really is. But are you sure you can't come over for dinner tonight?"
She'd spent the countdown to the New Year with a glass of champagne in one hand and the other scrolling through a tablet computer. From the balcony of her penthouse suite, she had a perfect view of the fireworks dancing over the city skyline, trickling back down, burning technicolor streaks into the night sky. At midnight, her phone vibrated with half a dozen Happy New Year!s, one after the other. As lights exploded above her, she wondered what indulgence tasted like.
Today proved to be slow. She forwarded all business-related calls to her assistants and allowed herself a long soak in the shower. Afterward, she crawled into a sweatshirt several sizes too big and settled down in front of her computer. She clicked the little icon and crisscrossed her legs. As the familiar soundtrack played through her headset, the muscles along her spine loosened, and she let out a slow exhale.
Her pixel kingdom lay on a vast coastline, flourishing in an industry of fishing, glass-making, and pearl-diving. It had only been a few days since she started playing, but she had fallen for this game—hook, line, and sinker. Despite the early stages of her virtual reign, she'd already built up a formidable seaside nation, though she had yet to experiment beyond the boundaries of her territory. Not for long.
Ding. She glanced up from constructing a dozen new houses to accommodate a recent population boom. The chat symbol glowed with one unread message. She chewed her lip. Since starting the game, she had been mostly self-sufficient, accepting only the most beneficial of alliances and rejecting their friend requests. She never had any need to use the chat. Two more rang in her ears, and with them her curiosity grew. She clicked the chat symbol and studied the most recent messages.
Atropos hummed low in her chest, a plan hatching. She checked the map, confirming that her kingdom bordered sxnshine's, then cast a critical eye over her troops. Her lip twitched, just as a fourth message appeared. One look at the user's name startled a laugh out of her, and she watched as they sent sxnshine aid. Her half-smile grew into a full grin.
In a few seconds, a troop of three dozen was marching toward sxnshine's kingdom. They cut down stopputtingxinusernames's paltry assistance with ease and set a second flame as they raided the supplies. No doubt she would lose a few in this endeavor, but this was too good of an opportunity to resist. On a whim, she typed up a brief message.
unturnxble: That's a shame.
She leaned back in her chair, biting back laughter as she ran a hand through her still-damp hair. Hopefully thedxctxr wouldn't figure out how to send their troops anytime soon.
For the thirty-year-old heiress of a multibillion-dollar international business conglomerate, the holidays were hell on earth. Meeting after meeting had all but worn through her high heels, and even her favorite pair of sturdy work boots left blisters on the soles of her feet. Her sleek undercut kept reverting to its natural form of thick dark waves in the middle of the day; ducking into bathrooms to slick it back again ate up precious minutes. She'd begun packing a thermos filled with honey lemon tea to combat the neverending phone calls. It was only a matter of time before spreadsheets invaded her nightmares.
On Christmas Day, she'd returned the well-wishes her mother and sisters had texted her while she flipped through files she'd been poring over since four in the morning. She could still recall the presents she'd sent them. The original of a painting by Chairman Metaxas's favorite Renaissance artist. Money for Lachesis to gamble away. Vicuña wool that Clotho would knit into sweaters for her cats. Seeds from the Rothschild's slipper orchid, which Eunomia's greenhouses had been sorely lacking. A generous donation to the law school from which Dike had graduated. For dearest Eirene, an antique baby mobile, one that her infant daughter would surely enjoy.
"It's lovely, Atropos," her youngest sister had told her in a voice like birdsong through the earpiece she wore while driving to work. "It really is. But are you sure you can't come over for dinner tonight?"
She'd spent the countdown to the New Year with a glass of champagne in one hand and the other scrolling through a tablet computer. From the balcony of her penthouse suite, she had a perfect view of the fireworks dancing over the city skyline, trickling back down, burning technicolor streaks into the night sky. At midnight, her phone vibrated with half a dozen Happy New Year!s, one after the other. As lights exploded above her, she wondered what indulgence tasted like.
Today proved to be slow. She forwarded all business-related calls to her assistants and allowed herself a long soak in the shower. Afterward, she crawled into a sweatshirt several sizes too big and settled down in front of her computer. She clicked the little icon and crisscrossed her legs. As the familiar soundtrack played through her headset, the muscles along her spine loosened, and she let out a slow exhale.
Her pixel kingdom lay on a vast coastline, flourishing in an industry of fishing, glass-making, and pearl-diving. It had only been a few days since she started playing, but she had fallen for this game—hook, line, and sinker. Despite the early stages of her virtual reign, she'd already built up a formidable seaside nation, though she had yet to experiment beyond the boundaries of her territory. Not for long.
Ding. She glanced up from constructing a dozen new houses to accommodate a recent population boom. The chat symbol glowed with one unread message. She chewed her lip. Since starting the game, she had been mostly self-sufficient, accepting only the most beneficial of alliances and rejecting their friend requests. She never had any need to use the chat. Two more rang in her ears, and with them her curiosity grew. She clicked the chat symbol and studied the most recent messages.
Atropos hummed low in her chest, a plan hatching. She checked the map, confirming that her kingdom bordered sxnshine's, then cast a critical eye over her troops. Her lip twitched, just as a fourth message appeared. One look at the user's name startled a laugh out of her, and she watched as they sent sxnshine aid. Her half-smile grew into a full grin.
In a few seconds, a troop of three dozen was marching toward sxnshine's kingdom. They cut down stopputtingxinusernames's paltry assistance with ease and set a second flame as they raided the supplies. No doubt she would lose a few in this endeavor, but this was too good of an opportunity to resist. On a whim, she typed up a brief message.
unturnxble: That's a shame.
She leaned back in her chair, biting back laughter as she ran a hand through her still-damp hair. Hopefully thedxctxr wouldn't figure out how to send their troops anytime soon.