<![CDATA[Antarsia - Writing Center]]> https://www.antarsia-rpg.com/ Sat, 11 Apr 2026 21:29:57 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[A Modern Adventure]]> https://www.antarsia-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=5378 Wed, 16 Sep 2020 05:28:11 +0000 https://www.antarsia-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=5378
Inanna was sitting in her room, having already gotten all her stuff set up. Not having a roommate meant she could use magic for it, and she was already plugged into her gaming rig. She sat back and relaxed, listening to her team chatting about their own adventures.

Gilgamesh was down in one of the college's many scattered dining halls, enjoying the Hogwarts style room as he relaxed. Classes would be starting in a few days, and he was taking the chance to relax before things started to get wild.]]>
Inanna was sitting in her room, having already gotten all her stuff set up. Not having a roommate meant she could use magic for it, and she was already plugged into her gaming rig. She sat back and relaxed, listening to her team chatting about their own adventures.

Gilgamesh was down in one of the college's many scattered dining halls, enjoying the Hogwarts style room as he relaxed. Classes would be starting in a few days, and he was taking the chance to relax before things started to get wild.]]> <![CDATA[Once upon a modern tale]]> https://www.antarsia-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=5347 Fri, 03 Jan 2020 08:20:14 +0000 https://www.antarsia-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=5347 Players involved: KokoPuffs, Andromeda
Characters involved: Dei (andromeda) Yukiji (kokopuffs) *more to come later*


The sun had set already in the sky of the city, sipping below the horizon until it was nothing more; though slowly the moon rose and took its place instead. Sure, night care much faster now, the colder months having set upon this part of the world. Yet, it was always their favorite time of year. Something about the cold made her feel at peace, relaxed, and content with herself. And why not? She was young, beautiful, and ran a successful business; she almost felt on top of the world. Each night she was there, overseeing what was going on within; making sure her workers were always taken care of first. 

It was a strip club she owned, a place for men and women alike so drink, and watch beautiful women perform in stage. Some might call it a trashy, filthy place of sin, but her Yukiji it was more than home for her. To her this place represented herself, and that showed well in how the place was set.  Elegant and classy, unlike those that many found kind of trashy; where men seemed to man handle the women with no regards. Not here, there were more than enough rules against such things, plenty of clients found themselves thrown out for their misconduct. 

Ok this night, it seemed, one client decided to try such a thing on one of her girls; a sweet woman, pale blonde hair and deep golden browns eyes. A women any man might have sought after, but it happened outside. It was like he was watching her the whole time, waiting for the time where she was clocked out; as he found her outside as she left. 

Screaming could be heard, and Yukiji even from the inside could hear it through the air. In an instant, almost like no time at all, she ran as quickly as she could outside. A vile man was trying to take advantage of the women as she struggled against him. Yukiji was pissed at this, how disgusting a site to behold. It didn’t take any time for her to march over; her body pushing itself between the worker and the man. 

“Back off asshole,” she yelled out, hands places squarely upon his chest as she pushed him back, “how DARE you try to manhandle one of my workers, you’re as vile as the rats that crawl through the sewer! Either you leave or I will be calling the cops!” 

The smaller woman stood tall, chest puffed out and pose sturdy against the earth below her feet. There was a sluring of words from him, he was more than drunk. Not only could she smell it upon his breath but he swayed slightly from side to side; trying his best to keep his balance. It didn’t stop him, it only made this nasty individual much harder to sway away from this. He even tired to reach for her girl again, which Yukiji blocked him from doing so, once more pushing him away.]]> Players involved: KokoPuffs, Andromeda
Characters involved: Dei (andromeda) Yukiji (kokopuffs) *more to come later*


The sun had set already in the sky of the city, sipping below the horizon until it was nothing more; though slowly the moon rose and took its place instead. Sure, night care much faster now, the colder months having set upon this part of the world. Yet, it was always their favorite time of year. Something about the cold made her feel at peace, relaxed, and content with herself. And why not? She was young, beautiful, and ran a successful business; she almost felt on top of the world. Each night she was there, overseeing what was going on within; making sure her workers were always taken care of first. 

It was a strip club she owned, a place for men and women alike so drink, and watch beautiful women perform in stage. Some might call it a trashy, filthy place of sin, but her Yukiji it was more than home for her. To her this place represented herself, and that showed well in how the place was set.  Elegant and classy, unlike those that many found kind of trashy; where men seemed to man handle the women with no regards. Not here, there were more than enough rules against such things, plenty of clients found themselves thrown out for their misconduct. 

Ok this night, it seemed, one client decided to try such a thing on one of her girls; a sweet woman, pale blonde hair and deep golden browns eyes. A women any man might have sought after, but it happened outside. It was like he was watching her the whole time, waiting for the time where she was clocked out; as he found her outside as she left. 

Screaming could be heard, and Yukiji even from the inside could hear it through the air. In an instant, almost like no time at all, she ran as quickly as she could outside. A vile man was trying to take advantage of the women as she struggled against him. Yukiji was pissed at this, how disgusting a site to behold. It didn’t take any time for her to march over; her body pushing itself between the worker and the man. 

“Back off asshole,” she yelled out, hands places squarely upon his chest as she pushed him back, “how DARE you try to manhandle one of my workers, you’re as vile as the rats that crawl through the sewer! Either you leave or I will be calling the cops!” 

The smaller woman stood tall, chest puffed out and pose sturdy against the earth below her feet. There was a sluring of words from him, he was more than drunk. Not only could she smell it upon his breath but he swayed slightly from side to side; trying his best to keep his balance. It didn’t stop him, it only made this nasty individual much harder to sway away from this. He even tired to reach for her girl again, which Yukiji blocked him from doing so, once more pushing him away.]]> <![CDATA[Tales of Seliel City]]> https://www.antarsia-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=1264 Sun, 13 May 2018 08:38:52 +0000 https://www.antarsia-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=1264
"...and his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming..."
- E. A. Poe
Thread Status: Open | Suggested Soundtrack: Memoirs of the Forgotten

The lady was sewing.

She was seated by the fire, just outside a mud brick hovel with a thatched roof. Her handiwork the labor that produced the clothes on their backs. Around them was a small farm.

It seemed a simpler time. Not a dream so much as it was stepped back through a half-remembered memory of a time long ago.

He'd been a girl then. He'd been alive then. The woman by the fire was the girl's mother. She would raise her head and look over at her daughter, but there was no face. The haze of time shrouded the recollection. The girl could turn her head and see silhouettes out in the field, laboring, toiling with the earth, but couldn't discern who they were. They were just shadows.

The girl turned back to gaze at the faceless woman that was sewing by the fire.

She would hum while she worked, but the girl knew only silence. The melody playing just out of earshot, it's memory forever at the tip of her tongue yet never recalled.

The girl would return here -- this place, this memory -- many times. And on each such occasion it was the same. Shadows in the field. A lady without a face. Music without a sound. But this memory, however poorly remembered, was precious to her. This was life.

This was life as she knew it.

This was life as she had known it.

"LAND HO!"

Red eyes opened. The gaze behind them was nothing human. It was a predator. Something not entirely of this world. Not the world of the living in any regard.

"Look alive! Man the rigging. LAND HO!"

Gone, now, was the form of the girl. Her physical form broken and left behind like the forgotten parts of the memory. In her place was a boy, if he could be called as such. A spectral wraith whose cherubic face and deceiving form masked a killer that had stalked across the Warring Plains of Katakarthia for ten thousand years.

Above him, the wood planks of the ceiling rattled with the sound of feet pouding over the top of the deck. Rolling to one side, the boy dropped from out of the hammock where he had been resting. The ship was listing more now. The roll and ebb violently jarring the child as he worked to find his balance. The sound of the ocean beating against the side of the ship echoed through the interior.

As did the sound of birds.

Land ho, indeed.

The child-like wraith dressed in a simple tunic, pulling a shock of raven black hair through the neck. A pair of short horns stood out from the scalp. Dark lines ran from the base of his eyes along the contours of his cheeks toward the jaw, as though he were crying black tears. A double wrap belt cinched the waist of the tunic, to which a sword of Angelic construction was girded. His feet were shod in leather bindings that wrapped halfway up his shin.

Daylight stabbed at him as the child stuck his head above deck. Grimacing, the boy grit his teeth and squinted painfully through the garish light as he made his way out onto the topside deck.

The view from the side of the ship was spectacular. In ten thousand years, the boy could still count on one hand the number of times that he had ventured from Katakarthia. Only one other time had he come to Seliel City. The voyage here from Death Fortress was nothing if not annoying, even for a wraith who need not bother with food or drink. But the sight of the city on the horizon was no less impressive a second time.

Drifting over to the railing, the soul hunter raised a hand to shield his eyes from the brilliant sun that radiated overhead. The gesture nothing if not made in vain, as the light seemed to pass right through the bluish flesh, revealing the spectre for what it was and what it wasn't.

Ordinarily, the boy would have used a spell to disguise himself when arriving in a public port such as this. But Seliel City was no mere city. Magical creatures of all type occupied its walls. His poor illusion was a mere trick of the light. Shadow and shadowplay. In a place like Seliel City, there was no need for such a parlor trick. On those who would take notice, it would offer no protection. And most wouldn't take notice because there would be a dragon or some other equally inhuman creation passing through the streets as well.

How much time had passed since he had voyaged to this port, to these canals? He wasn't certain. One year seemed the same as the last, the child mused quietly, as the boat he had ridden in arrived at the dock.

He would voyage on foot from this point on.

Stepping up on the dock, the child had to pause and wait for a break in the crowds moving along the waterfront before he could begin to step across the bustling market. Seliel City was a true metropolis. The boy knew of no other city like it. And with crowds as stifling as this, particularly for one as small as he, the child-wraith wasn't certain he would want to discover a busier locale even if one existed.

Of course, part of what made his voyage difficult was that the soul hunter didn't stop for just the living traffic.

The ghosts of merchants. The wailing of widows crying out to a sea that robbed them of their lovers. There was more taking place in just the docks of Seliel City than most living here would ever know.

But the dead could always recognize one another.

The child's footsteps continued, then just suddenly stopped. At first, the boy couldn't have even said why he had stopped. The hair stood up along the nape of his neck. An eerie sensation washed over him. Deja vu. Or the feeling of someone walking over his grave.

...or, her grave, assuming his progenitor or past host had such a dignity afforded her. More likely not, though such was not a line of thought that the soul hunter desired to dwell upon.

The boy turned his head. The realized too late that he had looked the wrong way and turned around instead.

Standing at the edge of the dock was a lithe form wrapped in a white funerary shroud. That was it. Just standing there. Waiting.

Strange as such a sight may have been, the people passing by paid her no mind. Several walked right through her, as she wasn't really there.

A ghost.

The hooded figure turned to regard the small wraith. As their eyes met, the boy recognized the ghost as that of a young woman. A person he had never met before.

A person that had some connection to him.

Whatever the cause of their relationship to one another, the boy found himself averting his eyes a moment later. Head down, he started to move back through the crowd.

He didn't look back.]]>
"...and his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming..."
- E. A. Poe
Thread Status: Open | Suggested Soundtrack: Memoirs of the Forgotten

The lady was sewing.

She was seated by the fire, just outside a mud brick hovel with a thatched roof. Her handiwork the labor that produced the clothes on their backs. Around them was a small farm.

It seemed a simpler time. Not a dream so much as it was stepped back through a half-remembered memory of a time long ago.

He'd been a girl then. He'd been alive then. The woman by the fire was the girl's mother. She would raise her head and look over at her daughter, but there was no face. The haze of time shrouded the recollection. The girl could turn her head and see silhouettes out in the field, laboring, toiling with the earth, but couldn't discern who they were. They were just shadows.

The girl turned back to gaze at the faceless woman that was sewing by the fire.

She would hum while she worked, but the girl knew only silence. The melody playing just out of earshot, it's memory forever at the tip of her tongue yet never recalled.

The girl would return here -- this place, this memory -- many times. And on each such occasion it was the same. Shadows in the field. A lady without a face. Music without a sound. But this memory, however poorly remembered, was precious to her. This was life.

This was life as she knew it.

This was life as she had known it.

"LAND HO!"

Red eyes opened. The gaze behind them was nothing human. It was a predator. Something not entirely of this world. Not the world of the living in any regard.

"Look alive! Man the rigging. LAND HO!"

Gone, now, was the form of the girl. Her physical form broken and left behind like the forgotten parts of the memory. In her place was a boy, if he could be called as such. A spectral wraith whose cherubic face and deceiving form masked a killer that had stalked across the Warring Plains of Katakarthia for ten thousand years.

Above him, the wood planks of the ceiling rattled with the sound of feet pouding over the top of the deck. Rolling to one side, the boy dropped from out of the hammock where he had been resting. The ship was listing more now. The roll and ebb violently jarring the child as he worked to find his balance. The sound of the ocean beating against the side of the ship echoed through the interior.

As did the sound of birds.

Land ho, indeed.

The child-like wraith dressed in a simple tunic, pulling a shock of raven black hair through the neck. A pair of short horns stood out from the scalp. Dark lines ran from the base of his eyes along the contours of his cheeks toward the jaw, as though he were crying black tears. A double wrap belt cinched the waist of the tunic, to which a sword of Angelic construction was girded. His feet were shod in leather bindings that wrapped halfway up his shin.

Daylight stabbed at him as the child stuck his head above deck. Grimacing, the boy grit his teeth and squinted painfully through the garish light as he made his way out onto the topside deck.

The view from the side of the ship was spectacular. In ten thousand years, the boy could still count on one hand the number of times that he had ventured from Katakarthia. Only one other time had he come to Seliel City. The voyage here from Death Fortress was nothing if not annoying, even for a wraith who need not bother with food or drink. But the sight of the city on the horizon was no less impressive a second time.

Drifting over to the railing, the soul hunter raised a hand to shield his eyes from the brilliant sun that radiated overhead. The gesture nothing if not made in vain, as the light seemed to pass right through the bluish flesh, revealing the spectre for what it was and what it wasn't.

Ordinarily, the boy would have used a spell to disguise himself when arriving in a public port such as this. But Seliel City was no mere city. Magical creatures of all type occupied its walls. His poor illusion was a mere trick of the light. Shadow and shadowplay. In a place like Seliel City, there was no need for such a parlor trick. On those who would take notice, it would offer no protection. And most wouldn't take notice because there would be a dragon or some other equally inhuman creation passing through the streets as well.

How much time had passed since he had voyaged to this port, to these canals? He wasn't certain. One year seemed the same as the last, the child mused quietly, as the boat he had ridden in arrived at the dock.

He would voyage on foot from this point on.

Stepping up on the dock, the child had to pause and wait for a break in the crowds moving along the waterfront before he could begin to step across the bustling market. Seliel City was a true metropolis. The boy knew of no other city like it. And with crowds as stifling as this, particularly for one as small as he, the child-wraith wasn't certain he would want to discover a busier locale even if one existed.

Of course, part of what made his voyage difficult was that the soul hunter didn't stop for just the living traffic.

The ghosts of merchants. The wailing of widows crying out to a sea that robbed them of their lovers. There was more taking place in just the docks of Seliel City than most living here would ever know.

But the dead could always recognize one another.

The child's footsteps continued, then just suddenly stopped. At first, the boy couldn't have even said why he had stopped. The hair stood up along the nape of his neck. An eerie sensation washed over him. Deja vu. Or the feeling of someone walking over his grave.

...or, her grave, assuming his progenitor or past host had such a dignity afforded her. More likely not, though such was not a line of thought that the soul hunter desired to dwell upon.

The boy turned his head. The realized too late that he had looked the wrong way and turned around instead.

Standing at the edge of the dock was a lithe form wrapped in a white funerary shroud. That was it. Just standing there. Waiting.

Strange as such a sight may have been, the people passing by paid her no mind. Several walked right through her, as she wasn't really there.

A ghost.

The hooded figure turned to regard the small wraith. As their eyes met, the boy recognized the ghost as that of a young woman. A person he had never met before.

A person that had some connection to him.

Whatever the cause of their relationship to one another, the boy found himself averting his eyes a moment later. Head down, he started to move back through the crowd.

He didn't look back.]]> <![CDATA[The Mourning After]]> https://www.antarsia-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=1015 Mon, 08 Jan 2018 23:17:15 +0000 https://www.antarsia-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=1015 Thread Status: Closed
Players involved:None
Characters involved: Aerithe, Hiro
Setting: Prerio City
Time: Early morning, Haliea 25th
Weather: Overcast



Hiro stretched in his bed. He hadn't opened his eyes yet, taking the time to feel how comfortable his bed was. As nice as traveling is, a good bed can make you feel more rested than ever before. "Good morning, Aerithe--" He said, finally sitting up, only to find a messy bed where his traveling companion had been when they went to bed. "Good grief, off already, and didn't wake me up? She'll probably be waiting, I better hurry." He said to himself, Stretching again and forcing himself to get dressed finally.

Walking out of the inn, and paying for their room. (His treat, as he had promised when they got in,) He started to notice something odd about the day. Mainly, the sort of gossip that was flowing that day.

"Another Oracle dead, and this time, right in the square! Here!"
"I saw the whole thing-- Poor girl, What a way to go."
"Do you think the gods are gonna tire of killing their oracles and go for us instead...?"

Hiro felt a pit in his stomach, a bubbling rock of fear, but quickly dashed it. Aerithe must have been kept back because of all this gossip downtown. That must be it. If she was an oracle, she'd have told him, wouldn't she? Sure, they've been only traveling for a few weeks, but with all this business with the oracles, for sure she'd tell him if she was an Oracle.

... right?

Still unable to completely quell the fears, Hiro moved toward town square. There had to be a description of this Oracle. That way he could put these fears to rest and continue traveling with Aerithe. He had to. They'd for sure have a big laugh about this. Because she's not dead. She couldn't be, because she's not the Oracle. at all.

There it was, the noticeboard for the town. and sure enough, there was the big notice about the Third Oracle dead. Hiro squeezed his way through the crowd eager to see the news. The crowd reeked of fear and unease, but there was also morbid curiosity-- even for the most stubborn in their disbelief in gods, these had to be interesting news.

Hiro read the notice.

And his world shattered.

"... Aerithe?"

]]> Thread Status: Closed
Players involved:None
Characters involved: Aerithe, Hiro
Setting: Prerio City
Time: Early morning, Haliea 25th
Weather: Overcast



Hiro stretched in his bed. He hadn't opened his eyes yet, taking the time to feel how comfortable his bed was. As nice as traveling is, a good bed can make you feel more rested than ever before. "Good morning, Aerithe--" He said, finally sitting up, only to find a messy bed where his traveling companion had been when they went to bed. "Good grief, off already, and didn't wake me up? She'll probably be waiting, I better hurry." He said to himself, Stretching again and forcing himself to get dressed finally.

Walking out of the inn, and paying for their room. (His treat, as he had promised when they got in,) He started to notice something odd about the day. Mainly, the sort of gossip that was flowing that day.

"Another Oracle dead, and this time, right in the square! Here!"
"I saw the whole thing-- Poor girl, What a way to go."
"Do you think the gods are gonna tire of killing their oracles and go for us instead...?"

Hiro felt a pit in his stomach, a bubbling rock of fear, but quickly dashed it. Aerithe must have been kept back because of all this gossip downtown. That must be it. If she was an oracle, she'd have told him, wouldn't she? Sure, they've been only traveling for a few weeks, but with all this business with the oracles, for sure she'd tell him if she was an Oracle.

... right?

Still unable to completely quell the fears, Hiro moved toward town square. There had to be a description of this Oracle. That way he could put these fears to rest and continue traveling with Aerithe. He had to. They'd for sure have a big laugh about this. Because she's not dead. She couldn't be, because she's not the Oracle. at all.

There it was, the noticeboard for the town. and sure enough, there was the big notice about the Third Oracle dead. Hiro squeezed his way through the crowd eager to see the news. The crowd reeked of fear and unease, but there was also morbid curiosity-- even for the most stubborn in their disbelief in gods, these had to be interesting news.

Hiro read the notice.

And his world shattered.

"... Aerithe?"

]]>