Post by Master of Stories on Jan 26, 2016 23:10:36 GMT -5
The year, 2016. The location, well, Earth. Kind of. I should probably start at the beginning.
The year, pre-calendar. The location, a cave.
The stars whispered to man in those days. They told truths. They told... stories. And they warned man of the power of these stories. And how to contain them. At the time, there was no such thing as a written language. So the stories were contained in pictures. The stars imbued these pictures with the power to hold back the majority of the strength of what they told. They taught man instead of dominating man.
The year, 0 AD. The location, the Roman Empire.
Language is prolific and stories are still being spilled out by the stars into the ears of man, though man now thinks they are gifts from their characters. They are starting to see the truth as the stars wished them to be hidden from. Stories are real.
The year, 1700 AD. The location, everywhere on Earth.
People no longer listen to the stars, or no longer claim to glean stories from them. They have invented this magical thing they dubbed "imagination" where the stories come from. Yet they still write them all down. Funny. They claim it is to share them, but that does not take away from the fact that, in all actuality, the writing is containing them.
The year, 2016. The location, a humble library in a humble town in England.
They say it's haunted. At night a young girl wanders the attic where the oldest, most heavily abused books have been sent to retire because the old librarian simply hates to destroy a book. Brown eyes, brown hair, fair skin, all around not that imposing, and yet she is the most imposing thing to walk this earth. She is the First Breach. One solitary story. Neigh, one solitary fragment of one solitary story... has made it through the binding. It's January. It's frigid and the girl is not dressed for the weather, but can she even feel it? She's a ghost right? Yet she shivers as she pulls her slight frame up to the window of the attic and looks out. Every night. Learning. Growing.
The year, 2016. The location, all across the Earth and more.
The news blares on every channel. Mayday! Mayday! The Breaches are here! Stand up and fight! The containment is gone! Stories are leaking in every place where books reside: libraries, bookstores, even bedrooms! Protect yourselves! We don't know their intentions, we don't know if they come in peace. We're outnumbered! Thousands of years of stories are coming through. Call out to all universities and places of learning to find the way the put them back in their papers. Contain them before they contain us! End broadcast.
Note: This site takes place chiefly in Deerfield County, a small backwater area of Ohio in the USA. Most action will happen here (that's why it has it's own category on the boards), but things can happen elsewhere.
The year, pre-calendar. The location, a cave.
The stars whispered to man in those days. They told truths. They told... stories. And they warned man of the power of these stories. And how to contain them. At the time, there was no such thing as a written language. So the stories were contained in pictures. The stars imbued these pictures with the power to hold back the majority of the strength of what they told. They taught man instead of dominating man.
The year, 0 AD. The location, the Roman Empire.
Language is prolific and stories are still being spilled out by the stars into the ears of man, though man now thinks they are gifts from their characters. They are starting to see the truth as the stars wished them to be hidden from. Stories are real.
The year, 1700 AD. The location, everywhere on Earth.
People no longer listen to the stars, or no longer claim to glean stories from them. They have invented this magical thing they dubbed "imagination" where the stories come from. Yet they still write them all down. Funny. They claim it is to share them, but that does not take away from the fact that, in all actuality, the writing is containing them.
The year, 2016. The location, a humble library in a humble town in England.
They say it's haunted. At night a young girl wanders the attic where the oldest, most heavily abused books have been sent to retire because the old librarian simply hates to destroy a book. Brown eyes, brown hair, fair skin, all around not that imposing, and yet she is the most imposing thing to walk this earth. She is the First Breach. One solitary story. Neigh, one solitary fragment of one solitary story... has made it through the binding. It's January. It's frigid and the girl is not dressed for the weather, but can she even feel it? She's a ghost right? Yet she shivers as she pulls her slight frame up to the window of the attic and looks out. Every night. Learning. Growing.
The year, 2016. The location, all across the Earth and more.
The news blares on every channel. Mayday! Mayday! The Breaches are here! Stand up and fight! The containment is gone! Stories are leaking in every place where books reside: libraries, bookstores, even bedrooms! Protect yourselves! We don't know their intentions, we don't know if they come in peace. We're outnumbered! Thousands of years of stories are coming through. Call out to all universities and places of learning to find the way the put them back in their papers. Contain them before they contain us! End broadcast.
Note: This site takes place chiefly in Deerfield County, a small backwater area of Ohio in the USA. Most action will happen here (that's why it has it's own category on the boards), but things can happen elsewhere.
