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Creative Writing

Seasonal tempest

So uh, I’ve been writing original roleplays in forums lately. Don’t ask, I’ve been in an essay deluge, and badly needed a break, some kind of censorship against stress. EVE Online doesn’t help, because I’m bloody writing about 60 pages on it. I love everything about writing, and a lot about EVE Online, but sometimes I wonder about the physics of my own computer if I hurl it against the wall in a hissy fit. Poor thing’s only getting the end of my stick because it’s the stage where all of this plays out. But I digress. Here’s the roleplay “setting an imaginary stage” introductory post. It’s written fairly simplistically, because it’s supposed to generate interest and other writers’ much more precise and individualistic portrayals, not muddle such a possibility with narrowed writing from the get-go.

the first breath.

You’ve always known that there was something more at the edge of your consciousness. Something flaying reality out of the corner of your eye. You crave for a sustenance that isn’t there.

You’ve gone through the paces that society had set out for you. Gone to school, or gone to work, in the numerous gleaming structures that populate the urban sprawl like dandelions. You’ve flown in the latest civilian thrill-ride by the seat of your pants but you felt nothing, except maybe a bit of annoyance at how unexceptional it was. You’ve forgotten some hours and days. Conversations, similarly, seem disjointed. The responses that your parents, friends, and loved ones give you sometimes seem like they’re talking to someone else who isn’t there.

But sometimes, when you close your eyes, you see a radiance never imitated anywhere else, and an earthy warmth that feels solid and reassuring. There’s presences everywhere, of all shapes and sizes. Even if you can’t see them nor hear them, you think that they’re more real and free than anything else you’ve known.

what will happen.

One day, someone will approach you and claim to experience the same things as you, and he will seem to have a most sparkling vitality compared to anyone that you’ve met. He will demonstrate things that will seem absolutely magical to you. You have the feeling that he’s wise beyond his years, and indeed much later you’ll learn that this ‘person’ is comprised of the vital force of many living species, of animals and plants who share the creative throught-stream in the body of a human.

This visitor will initiate you into an order to protect and fight for Mother Nature at all costs. He will draw you away from the established, techno-crazy order of the human cities. Your relationship as this person’s apprentice will be tumultuous, as he may be your greatest ally or your greatest rival.

interplay of motivations.

Mother Nature is in shambles, and in anger, due to human inaction and greed. You’ve had this intuition for years prior to meeting your mentor, and what human society have tried to pull a wool over your eyes have been cast aside. When you first meet your mentor, you have an inkling to the power that you were given to protect Mother Nature, and all life on Earth as a result. These powers are coordinated to the power invested in the seasons, and the position of the Earth in relation to the sun, moon, and the stars. These will develop over time, in company of peers like yourself, and the species-mentors.
The continual drive for irresponsible technology have lead Mother Nature to erect this bastion of protection for all that she holds dear. But humans are varied in their opinions and their dispositions, and they change their politics as it suits them. Some may be willing to help the side of the environment, while others have vested interests and their hands are tied to their finances. Yet others are all the more willing to look for scapegoats for their displeasure, and are quick to label anything outside of civilized society as hacks and cheats to the system. How will you respond, in this world, your home?

EXTRA: mind of the praeceptors.

She has felt comprised of the multiple for as long as she can remember. Before she even had a body, emotions and the strategic rationalism of intellect. She knew that she was composed of thousands and more of different sources of vital energies. She can distinguish them like individual hairs, strands of thoughts and behaviors intertwined. Sometimes one snapped off in death, sometimes another one pricked forth with new life. She looked out across vistas and knew exactly where which one lived, and planned with them in the rhythms of their migration.

She, like other praeceptors, don’t necessarily often live in a cluster. Sometimes they’re amenable to coalescing together in small groups, connecting thoughts and experiences. Sometimes they avoid the company. It depends on the atmosphere. Some praeceptors extend beyond the bond of their species and into the joy of their ecosystems, comprising of the most daunting predators to the shivering grass. Their mind and presence are a wonder to behold.

She’s been given a human body, female, lithe, with the vaulted human intelligence. She thinks that her efferent network of partners are going to exist long after she’s gone. They’d just drift to another form capable of contemplating them, loving them, and regarding with them. She knows, with bone-deep certainty, that it was the kinship of respect that had allowed them to find each other, for her to find herself.


About Darklights

I identify as an illustrator, game designer, writer, and 3D artist by trade. I'm driven by a symbiosis of passion for dance, new media, philosophy of aesthetics, cinema, creative writing and visual arts. My username? A shout-out to the tides of history that invented the camera obscura.


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