The planet is collapsing in on itself and you have to get off of it. But where do you go?
There wasn't enough time. Echo wiped her brow as she looked over the contents of the pleasure cruiser turned supply scow-- every competent flyer was needed to help scramble to get as much as they possibly could off of the planet before time was up. It had been some trillionaire's crashed party orbiter, until whomever had owned it drove it into a satellite and fritzed the nav controls. As such, it would need a fine degree of manual piloting, and since it had room for her personal ship, the Slipdart, in the shuttle bay, she'd been assigned the task of getting this tank into space.
As she continued working on securing the containers, she had time to consider what a shame it was-- the ship would have been well-suited to transporting humans if it weren't for the hull damage-- making her atmosphere-tight wasn't an option for now, so sealed storage containers were the only option for her. Besides, ironically, the tracks in traditional cargo vessels made perfect anchor points for welded scaffolds stacked with passenger restraints, thrown together from remains of airplane parts left behind by those rich enough to convert low-orbit tourist spacescrapers to ferry the desperate rich into space for the highest tolls they could extract.
As she wrenched on one of the tie-downs, a voice broke her from her musings.
"That's the last one-- you're cleared for launch." She smiled, turning to clap an arm around the supervisor who had brought people in to stock the ship as quickly as possible for several trips already. Echo nodded. "Thanks, Rex. Transport should be here for you all soon, but, if you'd like...." She trailed off mid-sentence. "It's fine, 'Cho. Just get this up there, and say hi to Keresh for me, okay?" She nodded, offering her hand to him.
She couldn't help but return the gesture when he pulled her into a hug. "I'll be sure to."
-~-
The pre-flight check went as slowly as it always did-- large craft had many radio calls that had to be made before she'd be cleared to fly. A flurry of explosions somewhere to the west had delayed other craft from launching, so she'd waited hours for the O.K., and takeoff had been, while much more manually-intensive than it would be for a standard ship, a smooth enough procedure.
Once she hit orbit, she flew into the closest she could manage to a geostationary orbit-- large rescue ships would tow her as needed to correct her trajectory. She turned towards the planet, looking at the opaque, ash-riddled clouds, and began to pray.
Dice rolls
[15] = 15 1d20:
[
15
]
= 15
Last edited by Anhelisk on Thu Nov 23, 2023 11:40 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 478
You teach because you love it, because you want to share your knowledge of something you're passionate about. What is it?
Eryn had, since they were barely older than a child themself, loved looking after those younger than they were. In school, they'd been quick to volunteer for buddy programs. When they were a teenager, they took jobs as a swim coach, a nd they had babysat weekends. Summer holidays when they were an older teen were filled with summer camp adventures, and when they were too old to participate as a camper, they'd joined up as a Camp Counselor. Then they'd had years of university, paid for with odd jobs here and there.
Their master's program was almost done with, now. Only the final exam lay between them and their goal of becoming a teacher.
Dice rolls
[9] = 9 1d20:
[
9
]
= 9
Last edited by Anhelisk on Thu Nov 23, 2023 11:54 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 147
You cannot see, but you can hear and you can smell and you know you are not where you should be.
It was damp. The unmistakeable smell of mildew and rotting leaf-litter assaulted his nose as he tried to sit up. His head was splitting. He struggled to remember what happened- the only thing he recalled clearly was how the portal had exploded, leaving him awash in light so bright it burned. But where was he now? He dearly, dearly hoped that it was very dark here, and that that was why he couldn't see anything at all.
You are a knight and your duty is to serve, no matter who - or what - that is.
It wasn't fair. I didn't ask for this life or this duty. Who cares about tradition, about protecting the special people? Just because my father had and his mother had and her mother had and her father had and so on and so forth, why am I automatically fated? Are the stars so slovenly that they couldn't rearrange even just a little to divine me a new future? I am so angry. Every swing of my weapon, every arrow loosed, my hate of my circumstances grows and festers. They aren't training a knight, they're training a monster. They just don't know it yet.
Dice rolls
[4] = 4 1d20:
[
4
]
= 4
Last edited by Astraea on Fri Nov 24, 2023 10:28 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 130
You cannot see, but you can hear and you can smell and you know you are not where you should be
Oh dear, oh dear. How did she get so lost. Turned around didn't even describe it, it was like she had lost all her other senses and just walked in a random direction.The air smelled wet and foul, it was heavy in her lungs as she breathed. The smells competed with each other in a pungent war. Mold, water, rot. The ground felt squishy under her feet. Alarm bells were ringing in her head when the alarm turned to dread. The wet air suddenly moved and was hot, the smells intensified. She needed to leave, now!
Dice rolls
[3] = 3 1d20:
[
3
]
= 3
Last edited by Astraea on Fri Nov 24, 2023 10:29 am, edited 2 times in total. word count: 123
This is your kingdom. This is what you protect. This is what you would sacrifice your life for.
He stood over it, looking at it from high. His kingdom, he had built it up from the ground. The castle was in the center of a carefully crafted city. A wall surrounded the city, keeping the inner city and castle safe. A second city surrounded the first set of walls, but this city had a huge marketplace. Booths, stores, vendors on the street. Everything anyone who lived in the kingdom wanted could be bought here. The market of course was also surrounded by a large wall, the markets must be protected after all.
The final city, the city of the normal folk sounded the market walls. The largest parts of the kingdom, houses and smaller shops as far as the eye could see. Of course, even the common people were protected by a large, surrounding wall. After all it was the people in the outer cities that ran the markets and served the castle, so they too must be protected from the outside world.
In the air, a loud sound boomed. It was so sudden that every one in the kingdom stopped and looked around. What was that?
A giant golden retriever head appeared at the first wall. Someone screamed. People began to flee in terror as the dog looked around curiously,the wall crumbling under it's chin as it's head moved. A drop of drool slipped from it's tongue and splashed onto the ground, drowning a small family instantly in the hot, thick liquid.
"Johnny no! Bad dog! Oh no the outer walls. I spent all day making this!"
The king sighed. Well, there was no fixing this now and they'd be going home soon. He steeled himself for what he had to do.
The king's mom watched her son starting to stomp through his sand castle, kicking down the spires and crushing the little houses. She giggled to herself. How cute!
Dice rolls
[6] = 6 1d20:
[
6
]
= 6
Last edited by Astraea on Fri Nov 24, 2023 10:29 am, edited 3 times in total. word count: 341
Username: Tiarana Prompt response: "They called this a dragon," he thought morosely as he stared at his computer screens. Boxy windows filled with compiler errors, bizarrely formatted code, analyses, and source trees stared back at him. "And it's my job to figure out why it's stopped working recently."
He didn't want to. He had no idea how this mess ever worked to begin with. Just getting it to compile again, 15 years after the last time anyone had modified it (and that person was long since retired), was a monumental chore in and of itself. Half of it had originally been written in an archaic language that was older than he was - and also appeared to be in French. The other half had been hacked on over the years, bandages and half-working features that did a great job of obfuscating what this code actually did or how it did it. And it was a crucial piece of business software that the company had relied on for decades.
This...this sucked. He stared at it for one long moment more and slowly walked to the break room to refill his coffee cup.
This is your kingdom. This is what you protect. This is what you would sacrifice your life for.
This was her kingdom, she was their monarch and she would lay down her life for her subjects and she hoped they understood that. She ruled fairly and was always full of mercy, a "snow white" type if you will.
Username: AstoriaFallen Prompt response:
A wizard grants you any magical ability or superpower that you want with no downside.
Wood Witch was excited, she was granted the magical ability of making plants grow, which was nice because she was able to regrow entire forests with this ability.
Username: AstoriaFallen Prompt response:
As an assassin, you're used to being trained to get rid of your targets. But you also kind of want a vacation.
Senses Fail was skilled, a lethal fighting machine. She was always called when someone wanted the job done quickly. However, she decided she was due for a vacation after much hard work.
Dice rolls
[6, 19, 13] = 38 3d20:
[
6
19
13
]
= 38
Last edited by Astoria on Sat Nov 25, 2023 3:49 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 168
A woodworker, a carpenter, a potter; you use your hands to create things and you are building yourself a home, whatever that means.
Berethel had never considered that she'd have a home ever again. After leaving her family and becoming a famous adventurer. She'd saved the world and continued to travel it. Never did she consider settling down. That was until she tried out woodworking. Her hands had always been a thing to hold a weapon, but now she could create and not destroy. She'd build herself a home. After that she'd continue to help rebuild the world she'd saved.
Your life is a horror story, a testament to everyone of what not to do.
Vinra just could never catch a break. Her life was messed up. First born a tiefling to human parents in a devil worshipping nation. Then they had discovered a birth mark on her, a mark of a god. The church of her nation took it as a sign and were to worship her, pure horror for someone who wanted none of the sort. She never believed in their gods. So she ran, every turn a wrong one, nothing going right. Eventually she found herself press ganged onto a pirate ship. Things then actually took a good turn, she and a few others took over, things were looking up. That was until she discovered the god that marked her wasn't the one she ran from, but the goddess of the ocean. She'd ran right into her trap.
A teacher once taught you that you could be anything. So you chose to become something better. Something bigger. Something worse.
Back on her homeworld, things had been boring. Burryna's family did their business and she attended whatever fancy schools they wanted for her. They wanted her to take some generic business and accounting classes. Cause you know, her family did business. What kind? That didn't matter. One of her teachers had once said a vague, you can do whatever you put your mind too nonsense. She didn't care for that at the time. Then her family married her off. She spend 9 years (not much time really for dark elf kind) of her life on a spaceship heading to his planet. Tav wasn't too bad, he was eager to please and was useful enough. Burryna realized then she was out from under her family's thumb, they were lighteyars away. So instead of working for them like they thought she'd start her own business to rival their own and eventually completely buy them out.
Username: Moonstone Dazzle Prompt response: "Dad, uh. I need you to come get me," Em spoke, low and quiet on the phone. The bag of peas was on her face, eye swollen shut. But she wasn't crying. She wouldn't.
"Yeah. Yeah. Someone talked about mom. I-"
She winced, hearing the shouting on the other end.
"No! No, you don't. Dad. Dad. You can't beat up a high schooler. It happens. Just. Please don't tell mom? And please, please don't kill anyone?"
Username: Moonstone Dazzle Prompt response: Slaying dragons was standard hero fare. Wear the armor, take the sword, slay the dragon, get the princess. It was how these things worked. Hero had long, in this line of employment, adjusted to the amorality of her actions. Monsters were slayed. Bandits were felled. Heroism was what she did. It was her name, after all.
The journey had been long and arduous. Stretches of forest had turned to a barren, lonesome landscape. Amongst the sand was glass- things that might've been a town, once. Things that showed signs of life. Traces of bone beneath the shining surface. Hero listened to the sound of her boots against the pane, a loud and lonesome sound. Worse than the crunch of leaves beneath her feet was the desolate loneliness. An unlivable landscape, forever changed by the dragon ravaging the lands.
What was the point? What was the purpose? The dragon couldn't take any benefit. There were no deer here, no other forms of wildlife to hunt. The dragon would starve alongside the barren trees, roots buried into unforgiving soil.
She silently climbed the steps to the abandoned castle, steadying her breath. Its hearing would be better than hers. Hopefully, it would be asleep, and Hero could fell the beast without fuss. A swift blade to the heart, and the deed would be done. She swallowed down the doubts, and pushed into the antechamber.
Surely, the dragon would be here. Surely, it would be lazed across its treasures, ready for battle.
What she wasn't prepared for was a girl. She couldn't be older than herself, bright-eyed and youthful.
The breath caught in her lungs. The girl looked up, brushed the hair from her eyes, and smiled.
"You came to slay me, didn't you?"
...Well. This was going to be harder than she thought.
