Visionary Tales
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Topics - yautjan

Pages: 1
Fantasy / The (M)onster of Solith
« on: July 09, 2019, 07:51:26 AM »
History could not really say when the rivalry between Andariel and Solith began, only that the war between them had erupted a dozen years ago and had no end in sight, countless sent to the front lines to die a painful death. Both sides had harnessed some of the most destructive magic and weapons known to date, and the formally neutral neighboring kingdoms had eventually taken sides. While Andariel's technological prowess was unmatched, Solith was home to the most prolific Mage's Guild in all of Thena. It was in Solith that the newest batch of graduated mages were sent out to join the army every season, only the most powerful among them selected to see the greatest chance at glory in combat.

The winter of the year 639 was the class Volanare Amossa found himself graduating in. He had been studious in his education and talented in his execution of the magics, and he was one of three mages qualified to seek the front lines of Solith's campaign, where the most destruction was wrought and the most terrifying of weapons were crafted.

Their caravan arrived at dawn, when the snow was just beginning to melt and the spring was mere weeks from beginning to warm the planet. Volanare disembarked after his fellow mages, pairing up with the other two who were meant to seek the mage commander at the vanguard. He was tall, a few inches over six feet, and thin, built light, his shoulders the widest part of his body on a narrow waist and slender hips and limbs. His face, in the shadows of the morning light, was striking and angular, with high cheekbones and a sharp chin and a long straight nose brushed with pale skin, under a ruffled mess of black hair and set with bright green eyes. People said he was handsome; he thought himself far more similar to that of a rat.

They arrived at the camps behind the front lines by midday, weaving through the endless sea of trenches and walls built over the years by the advancing Solithian army. It was there they were supposed to meet the mage commander, according to the missive read to them before their departure at Solith's capital, Ortlux.

"Be careful," one of the teachers had warned Volanare before he'd left that day. "The mage commander, he is in control of a fearsome beast that they say can crush any man. Do not put yourself in harm's way, Amossa."

Volanare, for all he was worth, had no intention of angering any beasts in the army. For all his desire to be useful to his country and his people, hurting innocent animals was hardly his prerogative. They didn't ask to be at war, like the humans had.

Sci Fi / The New World [m]
« on: July 04, 2019, 09:04:04 PM »
The old watch ticked away, its battery having long since outlasted its original owner. Although the watch hung upside down from the chair it was leaning on, it read its date and time clearly in faint blue characters: 17:32, 12/30/2341.

A woman’s hand snatched the watch up, examining it behind her blank mask. There were no eye or mouth holes to be seen, just a smooth slate of black hiding her face. Much of her hooded jumpsuit was the same, black and without detail, hugging her frame and cinched at the waist with her wide belt. A tablet hung at her left hip, and a gun at her right.

She tucked the watch into the pouch on her back, secured tightly to the belt, and kept going. This building wasn’t safe in its dilapidated state and she didn’t intend to be here any longer than she had to be. Its only boon was it was safe from the harsh winter outside.

Snow piled on the building’s worn roof a meter deep and the wind howled with everlasting blizzard, the only respite in the summer when the snows receded and the sun shone again, briefly, through the nuclear winter smog. Through the windows the woman could make out her target--an unassuming but secure building clearly occupied by people, four blocks to the north, and nearly impossible to breach.

She was no ordinary person, though, and she descended the stairs into the dark of early night with all intentions and sights set on that building.

That was where the doctors lived.

In the old days, before the fallout, she’d heard that doctors were trusted members of society, respected and regaled. She felt no such thing for them now, walking the broken sidewalks beneath foot upon foot of poisonous snow towards the building her target resided in.

Fifty years now, the world’s decline had begun anew. Ever since they had emerged from their bunkers and repopulated their frozen earth, carving civilization out again like the ancients of old, humans had suffered chronic infertility. At first the issue was looked upon sympathetically, with genuine concern, and those in power tried to fix the problem.

Then the kidnappings began, and everything went to hell.

The woman had known no other world than one of fear, as a young woman in a world of old men, where you were either infertile or at risk of never being seen again. Too many had lost their children to the dark hands of the Council, conveniently stuck in cycle of re elections by older people who were too jaded to change their minds. Too many young women who had become pregnant in a near miracle event were never seen again after one slip up, one word whispered to the wrong ear.

These doctors had kidnapped the people of the new world, and deserved no more sympathy than a serial killer.

The guards never saw her coming, for she took to the building next door and threw herself across, catching her fingers on an open bathroom window that had conveniently been left just for her. Internally, she thanked their inside man, an unassuming one-armed elder named Joe, and left him his pay in the tank of the toilet before she took to the hallways.

Inside she found a locker to stand in, squishing her muscular frame in, and closed the door. While it would be uncomfortable, her windows of opportunity were scarce, and she would have to wait long into the night before she could make her move. It was fine, ultimately, because her target would be sound asleep by then, and would never know the grim reaper was at their doorstep.

And so she waited, with baited breath, for her chance to kill another of the treacherous doctors of the new world.

Looking for More / Searching for partners
« on: July 03, 2019, 12:46:59 AM »
Hi there, I'm the Moose!

A little about me: I'm a former moderator and I work in a crematorium as an admin (yeah, I know). I wanna be an esthetician and am saving to go get my license. I love to chat and I'm most reliably reached here or on discord. I'm really feeling the muse right now and would love to have some active, long-term roleplays

What I'm really wanting to do right now:

I'm really in the mood for MxM, or possibly FxF. I like writing gore, swearing and sex, and I like writing BDSM stuff a lot, so I'm ideally looking for partners who are comfortable with that.

Some pairings I'd be interested in:

-Minecraft WitchxHuman (I have a plot for this!)
-SuperheroxVillian (NOT anything comic book related, entirely OC stuff)
-Modern/slice of life

Some fandoms I'd be interested in

-Legend of Zelda
-Fire Emblem
-Assassin's Creed

Send me a message if anything sounds interesting to you and you'd like to do some plotting!


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