So I was wondering - what if, instead of trying to find a time when all of us are on (other than Monday nights) and hope that real life doesn't get in the way, we instead just do a forum-based, highly cinematic game down in the RP forum? Set up a flexible posting order, allow me to be as wordy as I love to be in my descriptions of these places, and just have fun?
I know Jess is interested in the setting that I've got prepared (It was supposed to be a oneshot run at a convention, but the convention never happened, so neither did the oneshot) And, oops Jess, I quoted the year wrong =P Because in the other game I ran, the 2008 Olympics in Beijing hadn't occurred yet.
Here's the basic rundown of the setting:
October 26th, 2007
Friday the 26th ended as quietly as an Autumn Friday in Southern Illinois ever did. That is to say, it was the weekend, and only the stodgiest of students weren't out partying. Indeed, in grand Carbondale tradition, the weekend had started yesterday for most fine folk, never mind that they still had classes on Friday. No one ever went to Friday classes except for tests, did they?
A few roving groups of students wandered through the dark, still evening, drunk or getting there, looking for the next house party or bar that hadn't yet thrown them out. Strangers stopped and chatted with one another, shouting insults, taunts, dares, and greetings. No one was excluded from the party excitement, especially with all the strange things that had been occurring around the world lately!
Chatter and rumor had been spreading lately, about some insane hocus-pocus that had been going on in London the past few days. Really, a person had to be living under a rock, as well as be deaf, dumb, and blind, to have not heard the rumors, so pervasive were they. Every news station continually played the various clips over and over again, speculation and theories ran rampant, ranging from "PHOTOSHOPPED!" to "OHGOD THE END OF DAYS HAS COME!"
The clips, all and all, weren't that long, and some of them were of terrible quality. The worst, and the oldest, was a short video taken with a camera phone, and showed a rather pixelated copper Viking ship hovering over the Thames, a chinese-looking woman standing at the rail and looking at the crowd and what looked to be a crow perched on the mast.
Better, by a bit, was a more recent video, taken by an amateur with fairly high quality gear. In that shot, a gigantic red dragon with golden horns and huge webbed wings sweeps through the sky, casually playing with some helicopters and warplanes that are firing upon him. A strange blob near the dragon's head soon catches the eye of the man recording the shot, and he zooms in as best he can, revealing... a young boy! Grinning and waving cheerily at the people in the choppers and planes, the boy is wearing white robes, and is strapped into a strange looking contraption that everyone is calling a 'dragon saddle'. It's clear that the fighters don't dare risk firing upon the dragon as ruthlessly as they could, and the red dragon casually knocks one of the choppers out of the air with his tail, then catches it before it crashes and sets it down. The video is usually cut right there, or right before there, but it does continue to show the entire battle in the sky, in which the dragon gets off entirely scot free and the choppers and planes are distinctly the worse for wear.
Even better is the news broadcast that rocked the world:
Reporter: "In an astonishing turn of events, it has been announced today that the boy and the dragon that have been seen over London recently--"
Image cuts to the video of the dragon and boy in the sky, reporter continues.
Reporter: "Are none other than King Arthur reborn and the Red of legend. We have a team currently on-site with this astonishing story. Over to you, Lance."
Lance, clearly in Trafalgar Square, not far from the fountain at its heart, is surrounded by hundreds of awestruck people. The background of the shot is dominated by the great Red. "Thank you. Today we witnesses one of the greatest miracles of our time, a visitation by the Lady of the Lake and the official declaration that King Arthur is reborn."
Image cuts to earlier, as the great Red majestically lands and kneels to allow the boy off, who walks forward to the fountain where another man is standing, speaking eloquently about King Arthur and his return as promised. Behind him, in the fountain, a vision of icy beauty is rising from the basin, her hair wild with ice and power, her skin a frosty blue, her eyes sharp. In her arms is a sword without a sheath, that she cradles like one would a child. Even through the video, it's clear that the blade is a great one, well forged and cared for.
"Step forward, young King," she proclaims softly, "Step forward and accept your destiny."
The boy does so, taking the hilt of the sword that she offers to him. As he does, first the man, then the dragon, then many of the audience bow down before him.
Image cuts back to Lance.
Lance, clearly trying to keep his awe in check: "As you can see, the proclamation was an astounding one, but who can argue when a real live dragon is standing right next to you, and a woman rises from the fountain... It's unbelievable, it truly is, but I must urge all of you watching to believe. The Once and Future King has finally returned as promised!"
Needless to say, discussion ran hot and fast all over the world concerning these strange videos and declarations, though London, at least, seemed to be taking the announcement as complete truth. The Parliament was in the process of arguing over who got to play regent for the boy-king, and the current Queen, Elizabeth, had made a declaration that she would be regent for the boy-king, stepping down from her place as Queen as her oath demanded.
All this happened only a week before, and very little else, not even the war or the recent Hollywood scandals, could make it into the news. Other strange things, such as a brief shot of a strange green light covering the Pyramid of Giza, or news that a rebellion was occurring in China to put the rightful Emperor back on his throne, were second-page news, and everything else more mundane was shoved back to nearly the sports pages.
It was into this atmosphere of excitement, speculation, and drunken glee that it happened...
Midnight, Saturday the 27th, 2007
It started small, a quiet little rumble that shook a few plates in the cabinets and maybe knocked some poorly balanced knickknacks over. People from the west coast or other seismically active areas got a chuckle out of their less-well-versed-in-earthquakes Central kin, who, if they noticed it at all, cried things along the lines of "THAT WAS AWESOME!" or "SWEEEEEET, ANOTHER EARTHQUAKE!" or did funny things like pretend to surf on the floor.
But even those accustomed to earthquakes were terrified when the real thing hit. Buildings shook, walls buckled, poorly built structures collapsed under the strain of the heaving, flexing ground. Off in the distance came the unearthly roar of mines caving in and pulling streets, buildings, cars, people.. everything down, like great hungry mouths of the earth.
It was over in minutes that felt like centuries, and the survivors stood, sat, or lay stunned and at a loss. Some people, knowing that no quake ever had just one shock wave, chivvied people into hurrying outside before the next one hit.
People closer to the center of the town, where the University was located, immediately got the second horrible shock of the night as soon as they looked to the sky. It started with the horrified shriek of a young woman, who pointed towards the University and could say nothing more coherent that "OHGOD! OHGOD! LOOK! OH MY GOD..!"
Puzzled, people glanced towards where she was pointing. For some, it took longer to note than others, but no matter how drunk they were, they couldn't ignore the cries of "THE TOWERS! THE TOWERS ARE GONE! OH MY GOD!!"
For the three 17-story dorm towers were indeed gone. Instead of dominating the relatively low skyline, there was nothing but some wisps of pale smoke and dust. Nearby, the smokestacks of the coal plant were also gone... and the great roar and harsh light of coal-fire painted the night an eerie red-gold, casting the light that had let the onlookers see that the towers were indeed gone.
It was then that the second shock hit, sending people to their knees amidst the cacophony of already damaged buildings topping to the ground, mixed with the screams of victims and the roar of fire and explosions from broken gas lines and downed power.
The night seemed to last forever, as shock after shock hit and sent the city to its knees once more. The last remaining mine shafts finally gave way just before dawn, collapsing with an angry roar and devouring more of the area.
When the sun rose, it was a glorious, beautiful Saturday morning, not too hot, not too cold... but it shone down on a scene of utter devastation. Very little was left of the city, and with no power, no easy path out, and little hope of rescue, the few remaining authorities were doing their best to keep order.
Some people, too stunned by the complete destruction, wandered aimlessly through the wreckage, pawing half-heartedly at a pile here, a pile there. Other people, bound and determined to do their best, had rolled up their sleeves and gone on one of several tasks -- searching for survivors, gathering supplies, or trying to keep the shocked people from injuring themselves. Here and there, a few people went rogue, looting for all they were worth just because they could, not because TVs and radios and expensive things were useful, but for the principle of the matter.
And still others, a rare, small few of the survivors, had the Mother of All Headaches. Not from drinking, though some of them may have been doing that the night before, but from sheer INFORMATION OVERLOAD.
Here and there they could be found, curled up in balls, clutching their heads and muttering about dragons and flying and Mythic Era and magic. Other voices clambered for attention in their minds, some more sane than others, but all saying the same basic things, and all knowing one thing:
We are Broodmates.
