The Longest Thread (Misadventures)

[Experience he/him]

53 minutes ago, Being of Cacophony said:

"He said tools."

"Huh. So...what exactly is it that you guys do?"

[NameIess]

8 minutes ago, The Aspiring Archivist said:

What kind of character might I want to introduce? And where?

Perhaps a Narrator? They could be anywhere.

[The Aspiring Archivist any pronouns]

Just now, Nameless* said:

Perhaps a Narrator? They could be anywhere.

What is a Narrator?

[NameIess]

10 minutes ago, The Aspiring Archivist said:

What is a Narrator?

A Narrator is a character that can Narrate stuff. They can do almost anything that isn't godmodding.

[The Aspiring Archivist any pronouns]

16 minutes ago, Nameless* said:

A Narrator is a character that can Narrate stuff. They can do almost anything that isn't godmodding.

Does "Narration" have an additional meaning in that sentence? And are there already a lot a characters?

[Experience he/him]

Just now, The Aspiring Archivist said:

Does "Narration" have an additional meaning in that sentence? And are there already a lot a characters?

Basically a Narrator can Narrate anything they want to happen to happen, except for controlling other people's characters. Yeah there's a good amount of characters.

[The Aspiring Archivist any pronouns]

1 minute ago, Experience said:

Basically a Narrator can Narrate anything they want to happen to happen, except for controlling other people's characters. Yeah there's a good amount of characters.

Sorry I meant are there already a lot of Narrators?

[NameIess]

26 minutes ago, The Aspiring Archivist said:

Sorry I meant are there already a lot of Narrators?

Yes. Most people have one.

[Experience he/him]

45 minutes ago, Nameless* said:

Yes. Most people have one.

Except me 

[ʟɪɢʜʈ]

3 hours ago, Nameless* said:

Sorry for the inactivity. I've had a busy week.

Subversion smiled, forming a second Narrationsphere around Platypus without dismissing the first one. "Something I learned from Thaidakar: It's possible to split your Narrationblade."

A door appeared beside Omen. "Unintelligible can go no further. If you wish to see the Dreamsmith, you must pass the trial alone."

The Dreamsmith looked at Everyone closely. "Are you sure? Making such a blade will not be easy with my methods."

Unintelligible felt someone calling his name, so he replied. "I'm near the Dreamsmith! Sequence wanted to visit him."

Falvan nodded.

3 hours ago, The Aspiring Archivist said:

What kind of character might I want to introduce? And where?

You could make a narrator, but also you can make whoever you want. Put him next to Falvan, who isn’t really doing anything right now.

[Ookla de los Cuervos he/him]

Abalador is just abalador

[ThroughTheLivingSequence she/her/they/them]

15 hours ago, Nameless* said:

A door appeared beside Omen. "Unintelligible can go no further. If you wish to see the Dreamsmith, you must pass the trial alone."

“Aww what?? Can’t he come with me? Just to watch?” Sequence asked, looking sad. “He helped find this place for me!”

15 hours ago, Nameless* said:

The Dreamsmith looked at Everyone closely. "Are you sure? Making such a blade will not be easy with my methods."

Everyone shut their eyes tightly, being over and holding their head in their hands. “.. Ugghhhhggghh… I want… I want a weapon…” DO GOOD  “A w-weapon that can harness my e-existing power..” DESTROY “To destroy all that which lies in my path.” Everyone stood up slowly, opening their eyes and rubbing them for a moment. “Can you do that, Dreamsmith?”

Quote

Sorry I meant are there already a lot of Narrators?

Another note on Narrators, they tend to sort of represent yourself in lots of cases. For example, The Bookwyrm, Thaidakar, Sequence, Nameless, and other all were/are Narrators that share names with the user that made them. There’s others like Subversion and Mythos and Spook who don’t share names or personalities with users(authors). While this might just be my subjective opinion, I typically see Narrators as a way to put yourself into the story and represent yourself in whatever way you’d like. 

Edited October 29, 2023 by Sequence

[Aeoryi she/her]

Elsewhere, an ancient evil stirred 

"And they said Desolation was too weak."

A dark form rises from Elsewhere.

"I will prove them wrong."

1 hour ago, Sequence said:

“Aww what?? Can’t he come with me? Just to watch?” Sequence asked, looking sad. “He helped find this place for me!”

Everyone shut their eyes tightly, being over and holding their head in their hands. “.. Ugghhhhggghh… I want… I want a weapon…” DO GOOD  “A w-weapon that can harness my e-existing power..” DESTROY “To destroy all that which lies in my path.” Everyone stood up slowly, opening their eyes and rubbing them for a moment. “Can you do that, Dreamsmith?”

Another note on Narrators, they tend to sort of represent yourself in lots of cases. For example, The Bookwyrm, Thaidakar, Sequence, Nameless, and other all were/are Narrators that share names with the user that made them. There’s others like Subversion and Mythos and Spook who don’t share names or personalities with users(authors). While this might just be my subjective opinion, I typically see Narrators as a way to put yourself into the story and represent yourself in whatever way you’d like. 

Another note on narration is that inklings are known to absorb it, and that narrators don't generally die unless they get killed by special (Mordite or Nohr-maul blade) means

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood he/him]

31 minutes ago, Sequence said:

“Aww what?? Can’t he come with me? Just to watch?” Sequence asked, looking sad. “He helped find this place for me!”

Everyone shut their eyes tightly, being over and holding their head in their hands. “.. Ugghhhhggghh… I want… I want a weapon…” DO GOOD  “A w-weapon that can harness my e-existing power..” DESTROY “To destroy all that which lies in my path.” Everyone stood up slowly, opening their eyes and rubbing them for a moment. “Can you do that, Dreamsmith?”

Another note on Narrators, they tend to sort of represent yourself in lots of cases. For example, The Bookwyrm, Thaidakar, Sequence, Nameless, and other all were/are Narrators that share names with the user that made them. There’s others like Subversion and Mythos and Spook who don’t share names or personalities with users(authors). While this might just be my subjective opinion, I typically see Narrators as a way to put yourself into the story and represent yourself in whatever way you’d like. 

That's an interesting way to put it. Though, I would add that Narrators don't have to be yourself. They can be, and it's fun when they are, but they don't have to represent you. For example, Thaidakar was only partially a representation of me. However, I made a conscious decision to make him his own character and not me after a certain point.

 

Before I put this out, I would like to say that none of the opinions expressed by Darkness are my own. That is all.

Darkness strode through the hallways, armored feet clicking against the ground, each step bringing further Void into the world. Sycophants, servants and priests circled around him, trying to keep pace. Their endless talk annoyed him. The worst thing about taking up a spot as a god among men was how they worshipped you. They wanted you to end their problems once and or all, merely because they believed in you. Darkness sniffed, it was as if they expected religion to help them in any way. They blindly followed, hoping that, somehow, they would get a true miracle. That never happened in religion, Darkness would know. He'd once been one of the high priests of a grand religion of prophesy. But he now knew that had never been true.

Truly, it had been a fabrication designed to prepare the world based on prophesies that had been produced by chance. 

It was also true, Darkness had found in every case, of every other religion in the history of TLT and the multiverse. There was no such thing as a true religion, only fabrications made for their creator's benefit and legacy. Darkness used religion for the perks. One, if you were a deity, you would be given more respect than otherwise. Two, if you were a deity, people would follow you to the ends of time. Three, civilian armies could be brought about far easier than in other ways.

And fourthly, if one is a deity, they can ask things that no king could ever ask of their subjects.

That, above all the others, was what Darkness valued most of all. Obedience was a virtue, for lesser individuals.

Darkness turned a corner, the Hall of Sacrifice approaching ahead. The King and the Shadow were there, waiting for him. It was time to perform the most sacred of all sacred rituals, or so his followers called it. He stopped in front of the large marble doors, monolithic carvings adorning it. This whole palace had been created from Narration. It was exactly what he wanted it to be.

He put a hand against the door, feeling the carved stone, tingling with tainted Narration. He felt the crowd inside, waiting for his arrival. Behind him, the group of about ten people moved about anxiously. Darkness breathed in and out. It was a remnant of his past, the thought, the instinct to wait for a moment and sense the crowd. He didn't need it now. Yet he still did it. Why? He had no idea besides the fact that it was familiar, and familiar things are what a man holds on to when all else fails him. 

Brighton smiled softly, recalling those days. What a man he had been... but those days were over. Never to be found again. Darkness opened his eyes, stepping back. He put his hands to his shoulders. A rippling red cape spread from his hands, rippling through a breeze that wasn't there. The ends of it turned into purple mist, undulating around the edges of the cape. He adjusted his black and purple breastplate slightly, readying himself. 

The priests eyed him nervously, but Darkness paid them no heed. He put his hands to the doors and said a word. Power exploded from his hands, ripping the tall, stone doors from their hinges. They fell with a loud crash on the ground, sending heralding vibrations reverberating through the chamber. Silence felled as Darkness walked determinedly through the door, his crown less head more regal than any king, his eyes more sharp and powerful than most could have.

Darkness walked to the blood red crystal throne, hovering two feet off the ground. He sat down, looking down at the enormous crowd and legions of priests. Darkness surveyed the silent crowd, the only noise coming from one of the two prisoners, struggling against his chains held by one of Darkness's priests.

The high priest, a detestable fellow named Rond, stood next to Darkness' throne. He leaned towards Darkness, not bowing, "Now would be a good time to begin the ceremony, Th-your majesty."

A smile clipped Darkness' face. Rond, the former friend of the corpse who's body Darkness now occupied. He was more loyal than all of Darkness' followers put together. "Thank you, Rond," he whispered softly.

Darkness tapped his throat, adjusting it with Narration. Then, Darkness Spoke.

His words weren't exactly said, nor were they thought. They simply were. To question their existence would be to question reality itself. They weren't something to be mistaken. They shifted through the air, coming to all of the audience, bold in their ears and brazen in their minds.

"I am Darkness. I am King. I am god," Darkness said. "Today I gain more power, thus getting closer to the divine goal of creation. We will be free! We will emerge victorious from the hold of Narrators upon this world! In the final act of Narrators, I will end them all in myself! You are my people! I am your god! You will guide TLT once I am long gone! You are the future! I will bring you to the future and it will become whatever you want it to be! Let the sacrifice begin!"

Darkness massaged his throat as the crowd cheered. "Bring me the king," Darkness muttered to Rond. "I would speak to him."

"He is king no longer, your godliness," Rond replied shortly. "I wish you wouldn't call him that."

"A king is no longer a king simply because he does not sit on a throne any more. He is a king, through and through. Bring him to me," Darkness said, emotion lacking utterly in his words. Except... for one word. "He is a king," Darkness muttered again, the last word sparking with emotion. Rond had left by now, putting Darkness's orders to affect. "There is no doubt about it. The lad is Zara's son, the king."

Darkness didn't smile as two guards and two priests brought Mythos on his knees in front of his throne. "Go, prepare Shadow. Prepare the crowd," Darkness commanded the guards and priests. "I would talk to Valaran."

They did as Darkness commanded, riling up the crowd and getting Shadow to the necessary spot. Valaran-Mythos-stood as soon as the guards let go of him. Yes, Mythos was a king. He wasn't who he'd been, not by a long shot, but there were the remnants. it was as if this were Valaran's descendant with features and gestures similar to Valaran, but not the same man. Not the same. Yet, one similar to Valaran was still akin to Valaran. And that was dangerous enough. "Zara loved you, Valaran. Very much."

Mythos didn't move, watching Darkness like a panther ready to pounce at any given moment.

"I know you better than you know yourself, my king," he said in a bitter humor, sarcasm edging the word "king." Darkness stepped off of his throne smoothly, meeting Mythos's eyes. Mythos was silent, his eyes taking in everything and nothing all at once.

"You are a king, and a good one too. But a good king does what is best for his people, not best for his world. That is your fault. You wear it well," Darkness said carefully. It must be done cautiously, it must be done right. "I trust your stay in the dungeons has been... pleasurable?"

"Your servants have an odd idea one what the word 'hospitality' means," Mythos replied, surly in every expression. 

Darkness nodded, "They are, after all, minor characters. What can you expect from them?"

"A minor character is still a character," Mythos pushed. "Is it wrong to expect goodness from every character?"

"Yes, if it ruins the story," Darkness said lightly. "And, again, if it disobeys prophesy."

"Prophesy can be flexible."

"Can it?" asked Darkness innocently.

"Yes, yes it can," Mythos responded. "You are an example of that."

"No!" Darkness said with mock dismay. "I am an example of prophesy fulfilled. You are an example of changed prophesy, not me."

Mythos shrugged, "Sometimes prophesy can be changed for the better, if it helps everyone in the end."

"But who is everyone? It's a populace, yes, but which populace?" Darkness postulated. "If one populace is helped, another is destroyed. If you change a prophesy about how much food there will be in a land, it could be changed so that the government of that area buys more food. If they buy more food, where they once would've had money to get mercenaries to protect them, they do not have that money any more. The will die on their piles of food, surrounded by enemies who they could've defended themselves from."

"That is not likely to happen," Mythos said. "That is an example for a place that cannot exist here and thus does not apply. Do not tempt me, Brighton, with your games of logic."

"Yes, your highness," Darkness said drily. "I am not your servant any longer. You are my prisoner. Saying it is otherwise is a folly."

"Folly, yes, but no worse folly than your own actions and-"

Darkness cut Valaran off, "No. Let us not dally in philosophy today, my friend. We have other things to do."

Valaran grimaced at Darkness, "No. I am not your friend."

"Good, then you know your place, prisoner." Darkness said, sitting back down on his throne. "We have a ritual to begin."

"An animalistic show!" Mythos protested. "It is unholy in every respect and you know it, Brighton!"

"An animalistic show for animals," Darkness said, waving it off with his hand. "They do not deserve something better, so they get the lesser examples. The higher things will come. Eventually."

"Long live Darkness, the god of the lesser animal beings," Mythos muttered under his breath.

A smile twerked Darkness's mouth, "Let the ritual begin!"

[Aeoryi she/her]

Rirrom, Narrator of Times, stood alone in Urithiru, toiling away at his hours remaining.

What did it mean to be a narrator? What did it mean to have a plot-blade?

His Plotblade, Plot Development glowed brightly in response to this, and he could feel the effects of his first plotblade, Side Character in his mind.

There was a place for him, but he was not relevant.

but he would be soon.

[ʟɪɢʜʈ]

50 minutes ago, Thaidakar the Ghostblood said:

That's an interesting way to put it. Though, I would add that Narrators don't have to be yourself. They can be, and it's fun when they are, but they don't have to represent you. For example, Thaidakar was only partially a representation of me. However, I made a conscious decision to make him his own character and not me after a certain point.

 

Before I put this out, I would like to say that none of the opinions expressed by Darkness are my own. That is all.

Darkness strode through the hallways, armored feet clicking against the ground, each step bringing further Void into the world. Sycophants, servants and priests circled around him, trying to keep pace. Their endless talk annoyed him. The worst thing about taking up a spot as a god among men was how they worshipped you. They wanted you to end their problems once and or all, merely because they believed in you. Darkness sniffed, it was as if they expected religion to help them in any way. They blindly followed, hoping that, somehow, they would get a true miracle. That never happened in religion, Darkness would know. He'd once been one of the high priests of a grand religion of prophesy. But he now knew that had never been true.

Truly, it had been a fabrication designed to prepare the world based on prophesies that had been produced by chance. 

It was also true, Darkness had found in every case, of every other religion in the history of TLT and the multiverse. There was no such thing as a true religion, only fabrications made for their creator's benefit and legacy. Darkness used religion for the perks. One, if you were a deity, you would be given more respect than otherwise. Two, if you were a deity, people would follow you to the ends of time. Three, civilian armies could be brought about far easier than in other ways.

And fourthly, if one is a deity, they can ask things that no king could ever ask of their subjects.

That, above all the others, was what Darkness valued most of all. Obedience was a virtue, for lesser individuals.

Darkness turned a corner, the Hall of Sacrifice approaching ahead. The King and the Shadow were there, waiting for him. It was time to perform the most sacred of all sacred rituals, or so his followers called it. He stopped in front of the large marble doors, monolithic carvings adorning it. This whole palace had been created from Narration. It was exactly what he wanted it to be.

He put a hand against the door, feeling the carved stone, tingling with tainted Narration. He felt the crowd inside, waiting for his arrival. Behind him, the group of about ten people moved about anxiously. Darkness breathed in and out. It was a remnant of his past, the thought, the instinct to wait for a moment and sense the crowd. He didn't need it now. Yet he still did it. Why? He had no idea besides the fact that it was familiar, and familiar things are what a man holds on to when all else fails him. 

Brighton smiled softly, recalling those days. What a man he had been... but those days were over. Never to be found again. Darkness opened his eyes, stepping back. He put his hands to his shoulders. A rippling red cape spread from his hands, rippling through a breeze that wasn't there. The ends of it turned into purple mist, undulating around the edges of the cape. He adjusted his black and purple breastplate slightly, readying himself. 

The priests eyed him nervously, but Darkness paid them no heed. He put his hands to the doors and said a word. Power exploded from his hands, ripping the tall, stone doors from their hinges. They fell with a loud crash on the ground, sending heralding vibrations reverberating through the chamber. Silence felled as Darkness walked determinedly through the door, his crown less head more regal than any king, his eyes more sharp and powerful than most could have.

Darkness walked to the blood red crystal throne, hovering two feet off the ground. He sat down, looking down at the enormous crowd and legions of priests. Darkness surveyed the silent crowd, the only noise coming from one of the two prisoners, struggling against his chains held by one of Darkness's priests.

The high priest, a detestable fellow named Rond, stood next to Darkness' throne. He leaned towards Darkness, not bowing, "Now would be a good time to begin the ceremony, Th-your majesty."

A smile clipped Darkness' face. Rond, the former friend of the corpse who's body Darkness now occupied. He was more loyal than all of Darkness' followers put together. "Thank you, Rond," he whispered softly.

Darkness tapped his throat, adjusting it with Narration. Then, Darkness Spoke.

His words weren't exactly said, nor were they thought. They simply were. To question their existence would be to question reality itself. They weren't something to be mistaken. They shifted through the air, coming to all of the audience, bold in their ears and brazen in their minds.

"I am Darkness. I am King. I am god," Darkness said. "Today I gain more power, thus getting closer to the divine goal of creation. We will be free! We will emerge victorious from the hold of Narrators upon this world! In the final act of Narrators, I will end them all in myself! You are my people! I am your god! You will guide TLT once I am long gone! You are the future! I will bring you to the future and it will become whatever you want it to be! Let the sacrifice begin!"

Darkness massaged his throat as the crowd cheered. "Bring me the king," Darkness muttered to Rond. "I would speak to him."

"He is king no longer, your godliness," Rond replied shortly. "I wish you wouldn't call him that."

"A king is no longer a king simply because he does not sit on a throne any more. He is a king, through and through. Bring him to me," Darkness said, emotion lacking utterly in his words. Except... for one word. "He is a king," Darkness muttered again, the last word sparking with emotion. Rond had left by now, putting Darkness's orders to affect. "There is no doubt about it. The lad is Zara's son, the king."

Darkness didn't smile as two guards and two priests brought Mythos on his knees in front of his throne. "Go, prepare Shadow. Prepare the crowd," Darkness commanded the guards and priests. "I would talk to Valaran."

They did as Darkness commanded, riling up the crowd and getting Shadow to the necessary spot. Valaran-Mythos-stood as soon as the guards let go of him. Yes, Mythos was a king. He wasn't who he'd been, not by a long shot, but there were the remnants. it was as if this were Valaran's descendant with features and gestures similar to Valaran, but not the same man. Not the same. Yet, one similar to Valaran was still akin to Valaran. And that was dangerous enough. "Zara loved you, Valaran. Very much."

Mythos didn't move, watching Darkness like a panther ready to pounce at any given moment.

"I know you better than you know yourself, my king," he said in a bitter humor, sarcasm edging the word "king." Darkness stepped off of his throne smoothly, meeting Mythos's eyes. Mythos was silent, his eyes taking in everything and nothing all at once.

"You are a king, and a good one too. But a good king does what is best for his people, not best for his world. That is your fault. You wear it well," Darkness said carefully. It must be done cautiously, it must be done right. "I trust your stay in the dungeons has been... pleasurable?"

"Your servants have an odd idea one what the word 'hospitality' means," Mythos replied, surly in every expression. 

Darkness nodded, "They are, after all, minor characters. What can you expect from them?"

"A minor character is still a character," Mythos pushed. "Is it wrong to expect goodness from every character?"

"Yes, if it ruins the story," Darkness said lightly. "And, again, if it disobeys prophesy."

"Prophesy can be flexible."

"Can it?" asked Darkness innocently.

"Yes, yes it can," Mythos responded. "You are an example of that."

"No!" Darkness said with mock dismay. "I am an example of prophesy fulfilled. You are an example of changed prophesy, not me."

Mythos shrugged, "Sometimes prophesy can be changed for the better, if it helps everyone in the end."

"But who is everyone? It's a populace, yes, but which populace?" Darkness postulated. "If one populace is helped, another is destroyed. If you change a prophesy about how much food there will be in a land, it could be changed so that the government of that area buys more food. If they buy more food, where they once would've had money to get mercenaries to protect them, they do not have that money any more. The will die on their piles of food, surrounded by enemies who they could've defended themselves from."

"That is not likely to happen," Mythos said. "That is an example for a place that cannot exist here and thus does not apply. Do not tempt me, Brighton, with your games of logic."

"Yes, your highness," Darkness said drily. "I am not your servant any longer. You are my prisoner. Saying it is otherwise is a folly."

"Folly, yes, but no worse folly than your own actions and-"

Darkness cut Valaran off, "No. Let us not dally in philosophy today, my friend. We have other things to do."

Valaran grimaced at Darkness, "No. I am not your friend."

"Good, then you know your place, prisoner." Darkness said, sitting back down on his throne. "We have a ritual to begin."

"An animalistic show!" Mythos protested. "It is unholy in every respect and you know it, Brighton!"

"An animalistic show for animals," Darkness said, waving it off with his hand. "They do not deserve something better, so they get the lesser examples. The higher things will come. Eventually."

"Long live Darkness, the god of the lesser animal beings," Mythos muttered under his breath.

A smile twerked Darkness's mouth, "Let the ritual begin!"

C An we get short summaries at the end of these?

41 minutes ago, Aeoryi said:

Rirrom, Narrator of Times, stood alone in Urithiru, toiling away at his hours remaining.

What did it mean to be a narrator? What did it mean to have a plot-blade?

His Plotblade, Plot Development glowed brightly in response to this, and he could feel the effects of his first plotblade, Side Character in his mind.

There was a place for him, but he was not relevant.

but he would be soon.

 

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood he/him]

2 hours ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

C An we get short summaries at the end of these?

 

maybe I can make some for future posts, but you're going to have to suffer through my previous big posts if you want the tidbits and plot from those ones.

[Scars of Hathsin he/him]

Umm. I am back.. now lets see, where did I leave off

 

Arranis, stands around, before going over to Falvan, umm what happened since we last met?

[Ookla de los Cuervos he/him]

abalador just appears. "yo"

[ʟɪɢʜʈ]

3 minutes ago, Scars of Hathsin said:

Umm. I am back.. now lets see, where did I leave off

 

Arranis, stands around, before going over to Falvan, umm what happened since we last met?

“Remember when we first saw darkness and thaidakar died? Nothing seince them. Absolutely nothing.”

[Scars of Hathsin he/him]

Ok, I can work with that

[ʟɪɢʜʈ]

2 minutes ago, Scars of Hathsin said:

Ok, I can work with that

“Oh and darkness is still out there somewhere doing stuff.”

[NameIess]

9 hours ago, Sequence said:

“Aww what?? Can’t he come with me? Just to watch?” Sequence asked, looking sad. “He helped find this place for me!”

"I'm afraid not. He can visit the Dreamsmith and observe the forging of your weapon, but he cannot accompany you while you take your test."

9 hours ago, Sequence said:

Everyone shut their eyes tightly, being over and holding their head in their hands. “.. Ugghhhhggghh… I want… I want a weapon…” DO GOOD  “A w-weapon that can harness my e-existing power..” DESTROY “To destroy all that which lies in my path.” Everyone stood up slowly, opening their eyes and rubbing them for a moment. “Can you do that, Dreamsmith?”

The Dreamsmith nodded slowly. "Yes. I can make a weapon from your soul." He smiled. "Out of curiosity, did you bring me any... unusual materials?"

Edited October 30, 2023 by Nameless*

[Scars of Hathsin he/him]

Who is the dreamsmith @Nameless*

[ʟɪɢʜʈ]

1 minute ago, Scars of Hathsin said:

Who is the dreamsmith @Nameless*

Ah yes basically after the whole thing right before you left, we went to him and he made us weapons that match you.