Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)Corporal Bunny
Star
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2009
--â¦Lets play a Game⦠--
Bunny Expectations:
-*-___ Bunny expects a in depth role-play.
(Bunny-bun does not need to know the details of the worms in the dirt that the foundation of the old haunted castle sits on that you stand on with your muddy black boots that are strapped to your feet with silver buckles on the lavished oak wood floor stained almost red with the blood of your fallen soldiers of the unicorn brigade back when you were not haunted by the ghosts of you past. Wood that creeks under your 190 pound weight set off with rippled muscles blah, blah, -chokes on detail as she twitches and dies-)
-*-____Bunny expects character development.
-*-____ Bunny expects a strong agreeable plot.
-*-____ Bunny expects creativity, innovations and effort.
(If you have trouble thinking outside the box, you better be thinking somewhere in it, at least.)
-*-____ Bunny expects a partner, not a leader or a follower.
(Meaning, you are to work with her in the developments befitting of all characters involved.)
-*-____ Bunny expects honesty in communication outside of the role-play.
(If you do not wish to continue, do not like the direction or are generally uninterested in it, cut it out. Be clear with your wants and desires right away for the role-play. If it does not match or is not to your standard or expectations do not role-play with Bunny. Do not waste her time. She has better things to do, like stare at a computer screen.)
-*-____ Bunny expects understanding and patience. Her life is more important than our fucking role-play. If you have an issue, do not role-play with Bunny.
-*-____ Bunny expects consideration towards grammar, spelling, and typos.
(Mistakez happen, k? Thx, bai.)
Bunny Warning: Bunny is partial to mood-swings and fickle interests. Bunny also has a life, occasionally. She always wishes for you to know she has never participated in online sexual situations, nor many offline. Therefore, she is not accustom to such things. If dirty, skanky, creamy, all juice flying on the walls sex is what you want. Look else where.
Bunny Play: Bunny expects her partners to be as flexible as her. She will play male, female, dominate, submissive and will partake in female on female, depending on the female. Please acknowledge that the Bunny is very straight and feminine in âReal-lifeâ but that words are words, and she can write from a ratâs perspective if need be for a story. She will concentrate on the substance of the story and the characters, not the actual sexual situation. Meaning, if you are looking for a dominate female to spank you all night-- Fuck off. Unless her character encounters your teeny-tiny E-peen male in a realistic manner that is not forced and calls for a spanking (which would most likely end in your character death) Do not talk to Bunny. She will killz you.
She expects character dynamic and involvement. Her partner should be able to interact with themselves and still have a suitable story. She mostly enjoys having more than one character to play off of otherâs. She likes multi-character play. She would be happy enough writing by herself. Thatâs what her role-plays are after all. A collaboration story. Bunny has no problem playing with herself⦠mmmm, ohm, yeah--baby!
Run-Away-Bunny:
Due to personal reasons no incest will be in her role-plays. Rape is optional for the story, but in no way turns Bunny on. Neither does waste, or strange painful objects. Like curling irons in odd holes. Bunny expects a story, not a cyber-sex scene where you get off.
Bunny iDEAS:
STRINGS: A single string, like silver silk, spun upon a spindle. A string woven with life by steady hands. The single string by which shears do cut, ending destiny. One single string drawing us closer, tentatively, ever patiently to our real destiny. A single string urging a few to their true destiny.
Those that govern our destiny; three sisters whom have woven tapestries bound by our fate. Threads bound by lives, sown to infuse their lives upon other's.
Three that hold dominion over fate, alike in face, bound my blood and clothed in cream.
Bent upon a bench of gold Klotho labors upon her distaff. Tediously, with pricked fingers she instills life into each strand. She is the mother of your fate.
With golden rod in hand Lachesis measures your worth, before tiredly threading her needles. She weaves the thread into the fabric of one's actions, faithfully attentive. She is the guardian of your fate.
Clasped like stone Astropos holds the shears. She stands poised above thread drawn taunt. Appearing ridged she decides the inevitable. With one abrupt lunge the thread slackens, falling in halves to the floor. She is the ender of your fate.
The Moirae are the three sisters, robed in white, who decide on human fate. Lachesis sings of the those that are, Atropos things that were, and Klotho the things that are to be.
Summary: You have been shafted of life, and therefore now exist in a spirit like dimension, caught between life and death. You're one of the >Insert Group number< that have been executed before you were born. You awake, or rather are born at any age or gender due to the explosion of the sands of time. After all, if time breaks, then who's to say what age you would be when you're born? Of course, your in the nude, so Atem who knows of the company's destiny hands out robes. He then explains about the book of Destiny. The book writes about the destiny of those who posses it, did I mention it also lists the artifacts that are needed to fix everything? It was created by the Three sisters, go figure.
Anyway, Atem instructs you to rip your name from the book. If you don't exist in the book then you can't be killed again by the fates. The book is basically your life. The lives of the dead or dying have been woven into the pages. So, that's where you are. But, you can't loose your name, otherwise you won't be able to ever exist again. Oh, did I ALSO mention because you didn't exist nor remember the life you didn't live Atem named you? So sad. Then, he goes on and on about how you have to fix fate. He explains that the sisters took your life to become younger. Now they appear to be the age of eight or nine. For some reason, you get the impression that he loves Klotho. Which, he does...But, he admits to stealing the book of destiny from his love, as well as Melpomene's Knife. What a little thief.
So he blabbers on and on, about strings. He says that if you defy the fates that they control you through strings. One of your emotions, one of your mind, and finally of your physical self. But, because you're not in the book or are about to rip your name from it you won't be in danger of it. Of course, he seems a bit depressed, he's seems to be thinking, Dammit why can't I live and not you. But, Atem is the hero that supports the heroes. Hopefully he'll be recognized for that in the end...
He gets really moody though and ends up throwing money at you, talking about a town called Medre...There's town's in the spirit world? Schweet. In any case, he then throws the dagger at you, but that's after he talks about the sands of time and puts it in a box. Something about never being able to fix anything if you loose one grain of sand in the box. Talk about pressure- better give it to the responsible one in the group.
On and on he talks, oh, and then- it get's better. He demands that you kill him. What the FLIP is that? First you wake up in the nude, some guy says you were born, but you weren't... It's all very confusing, then he expects you to band together to save time, space, basically the universe of fate and destiny. I mean...come on you woke up naked with these strangers, talk about awkward and now you have to kill the only guy that was at first rather sane...
Hmm...maybe he has something to do with Medre...we should go there, you know after we kill this guy, rip our names from the book, and find out exactly what the hell is going on...
The Second Course of Humanity:
Humanity has been pushed away from their former home. Earth, made inhospitable by mankind, rejected it's keepers who were forced from their sphere and into the cold dark reaches of space. Their negligence came faster than needed advancement, and stellar travel had not been perfected by the time of mankind's evacuation, leaving them to roam the vacuum.
At first, the people of Earth were crammed into limited emergency transport, but from excessive planet hopping and and limited terra-forming, humanity was able build itself proper transport from resources on it's many visited planets. Over time, the comforts of a home planet were forgotten, and over centuries of deep space travel, mankind has adapted to the near claustrophobic environment and grew fearful of planets, making their stays short, paranoid of negative contact.
Word of the wordless race spread throughout the galaxy, and while brief, mankind has made contact with other races and peoples with extraterrestrial origins.
Now traveling the galaxy as nomads, humanity roams the cold reaches in a massive fleet. A massive flag ship leads the way, it's incredible girth matches that of nations back on Earth. While most of the commerce bustles on this titanic ship, residents are few. Families, instead, live in the many frigates that follow the flagship. Also, as always, mankind is not without defense. Still maintaining a military, the fleet is half navy. The singular warship, which contains all of the drop ships, battleships, support, and soldiers of the navy, is never too far from the flagship
This is what remains of Earth's people. They have left their past behind and only move forward.
Welcome to Province: Sol
Scarlet Hell Manor
Listen to the whispers that float upon the winds, caressing even softly the dead. Hear the whispers- are you listening to the song sung by the mute.
Her voice silent, sooths sweetly in deafening octaves, calling and weaving you to the land of blood.
A siren captivating you while still she lingers captive herself.
She's crying out in silence while the heartbeat of the land races blood through vines, stones and mirrors.
There she stands, upon lands bathed in blood- sinking into the moisture of loves and enemies gone past. Time enriched in immortal blood bound to hell on Earth.
Scarlet is your sight, silence in her voice as she tells you her tail with a feeble smile, waning behind tired eyes.
Lit by candle she beckons you past hellâs threshold into the prison she is lost to, an attentive bow of the head. Are you the savior of hell, or will your blood bring a flood upon these lands? Bring that which is not stained by blood and cry out in anguish as youâre consumed by scarlet. No innocence remains upon lands bathed in blood.
For deep in the ground of hell, well below the stones, caressed by roots and reflected in mirrors lays the countess of hell. Immortal in beauty and youth she sleeps, soaking blood from the enriched soil. The cause of blood, she bring eternity to the manor. Cruel and restless she needs but strength from a mighty being to rise her from depths.
Still, the battle to find her is but the battle to find youth and beauty, with her a holy grail of blood is buried. Within well cut rubies and inlaid gold pulses the power of the first of damned. She carries with her the blood, with her she carries the past of mortals tortured and departed.
She bathed in blood of fallen girls. While you enter the castle you feel whispers turns to shouts for revenge, blood and justice- and still the she devil purrs with greed of beauty and floats behind reflective surfaces. For her power and she is bound to the lands as much as the sweet girl is bound to a life teetering on immortality and death.
Wishing to bring but more blood, the she devils wraps icy fingers upon she that whispers for release. Bring more blood, she wishes for the taste of immortal blood, she's too powerful to be sustained upon mortals life.
Guard your blood upon entering the Scarlet Hell Manor.
Story of the Muses
"Look for no ending to this agony until a god will
freely suffer for you, will take on her your pain, and in
your stead descend to Earth. Know this, that from your
race will spring Nine glorious in heart, and set humanity free. With their song they will charm, moving hearts
with their melody. From man iron tears will be drawn
and grant what Love did seek.
He is happy whom the Muses love."
The Universe created the gods. But, long before there were gods, Heaven and Earth had been formed. After a great many wars where Titans and Giants alike clashed in epic battles, serenity caressed the inhabitants of Olympia. The gods themselves created men when monsters were banished from Mother Earth. The land was soon deemed 'The land of mankind.'
The gods made first a golden race. These, although mortal, lived like gods, without sorrow of heart, far from toil and pain. This race was most beloved of the gods. When the grave covered them they became pure spirits, beneficent, the guardians of mankind. But, such perfection began to tarnish and soon the Gods twined a new metal with life.
The second race of silver was very inferior to the first. They had so little intelligence that they could not keep from harming each other. They too passed away, but, unlike the golden race, their spirits did not live on after them. This metal being imperfect for mortal creations the gods once again ventured to a new material.
The next race was Brass. They were terrible men, immensely strong and such lovers of war and violence that they were completely destroyed by their own hands. Feeling disdain the gods continued their experiments, searching for the perfect matter to give Mother Earth to. The failure of the Brass race, however, was all to the good, for they were followed by a splendid race of godlike heroes who fought glorious wars and went on great adventures which men have talked and sung of through all the ages since. Copper departed finally to the isles of the blessed, where they lived in perfect bliss forever.
The fifth race is that which is now upon the Earth: the iron race. To punish the gods who bestowed love upon the mortals Zeus created woman, adding complications to the iron. They live in evil times and their nature too, has much of evil, so that they never have rest from toil and sorrow. As the generations pass, they grow worse; sons are always inferior to their fathers. A time will come when they have grown so wicked that they will worship power; might will be right to them and reverence for the good will cease to be. At last when no man is angry any more at wrongdoings or feels shame in the presence of the miserable, Zeus will destroy them too.
But, those that beloved the mortals beseech the King of Olympia. Mnemosyne, the one of memory came to her lover, falling at his feet. Knowing the trials of each race she proclaimed that each in turn would turn to imperfection. 'I tried to bare my loss, each and every time. Each race drifting into my memory but without lessons being learned. I can not bear it any longer. Love is too strong a god. O King, you know if that old tale men tell is true, how once even gold began to tarnish. See, I ask a little thing, only that you will lend, not give time to me. They shall be your's if still scarred when this year's span is full.'
The almighty King sat upon his throne, his thoughts churning, 'Go and persuade the sea wave not to break, you will persuade me no more easily. The mortals may not look for an ending to their agony until a god will freely suffer for them, will take on her their pain, and in their stead descend to earth.'
Mnemosyne sobbed in desperation, 'They are all of one mind, their hearts are set upon song and their spirit is free from care. He is happy whom the Muses love. For though a man has sorrow and grief in his soul, yet when the servant of the Muses sings, at once he forgets his dark thoughts and remembers not his troubles. Such is the hold gift of the muses to Men. I beseech you to grant my pleasure.'
The lord merely tensed and sternly ventured, 'A profusion of delight?'
Knowing the essence of his question Mnemosyne forced his mind to sway, 'Know this, that from your race will spring nine glorious in heart, and set humanity free. With their song they will charm, moving hearts with their melody. From man iron tears will be drawn and grant what love did seek.'
'You wish to bring tears to that of Iron with womanly charms?'
'O King, of violence, of love and of sorrow, beg for just a year of tomorrow. Only you may give the breath of life.'
So the lord granted Memories' desire, sending nine under guidance of Apollo. (Large group Role play. Would love to develop the idea further.)
-In the Eve-
Society has faltered. Flung into the recess of oblivion; only a few have survived. But, as the decades faded away the History of man-kind became dimmer. The very spirit of humanity was only a flicker in the foundation of Evolution.
The Earth has begun to heal the deep chasm of wounds that humanity inflicted. Resorting to expansive forests, huge mountains and gullies where once seas raged. Miles of savanna and new creatures speckle this wholesome environment where once metal rose to the clouds.
A self-inflicted extinction took away any trace of the old-world. But, as the dust of biological war settled so to rose a new race. Mutated into existence the traces of humanity partook into decades of evolution. The beginnings of a new society appeared. A society of creatures. Watchers, Gatherers, Scouts and Hunters were appointed at birth in a complicated tribal system. Each category with a specific gene that befitted their post. Speed, enhanced hearing, the thirst for survival.
But, âhumansâ are no longer the top. An adventure of survival at the bottom of the food-chain.
Bunny Expectations:
-*-___ Bunny expects a in depth role-play.
(Bunny-bun does not need to know the details of the worms in the dirt that the foundation of the old haunted castle sits on that you stand on with your muddy black boots that are strapped to your feet with silver buckles on the lavished oak wood floor stained almost red with the blood of your fallen soldiers of the unicorn brigade back when you were not haunted by the ghosts of you past. Wood that creeks under your 190 pound weight set off with rippled muscles blah, blah, -chokes on detail as she twitches and dies-)
-*-____Bunny expects character development.
-*-____ Bunny expects a strong agreeable plot.
-*-____ Bunny expects creativity, innovations and effort.
(If you have trouble thinking outside the box, you better be thinking somewhere in it, at least.)
-*-____ Bunny expects a partner, not a leader or a follower.
(Meaning, you are to work with her in the developments befitting of all characters involved.)
-*-____ Bunny expects honesty in communication outside of the role-play.
(If you do not wish to continue, do not like the direction or are generally uninterested in it, cut it out. Be clear with your wants and desires right away for the role-play. If it does not match or is not to your standard or expectations do not role-play with Bunny. Do not waste her time. She has better things to do, like stare at a computer screen.)
-*-____ Bunny expects understanding and patience. Her life is more important than our fucking role-play. If you have an issue, do not role-play with Bunny.
-*-____ Bunny expects consideration towards grammar, spelling, and typos.
(Mistakez happen, k? Thx, bai.)
Bunny Warning: Bunny is partial to mood-swings and fickle interests. Bunny also has a life, occasionally. She always wishes for you to know she has never participated in online sexual situations, nor many offline. Therefore, she is not accustom to such things. If dirty, skanky, creamy, all juice flying on the walls sex is what you want. Look else where.
Bunny Play: Bunny expects her partners to be as flexible as her. She will play male, female, dominate, submissive and will partake in female on female, depending on the female. Please acknowledge that the Bunny is very straight and feminine in âReal-lifeâ but that words are words, and she can write from a ratâs perspective if need be for a story. She will concentrate on the substance of the story and the characters, not the actual sexual situation. Meaning, if you are looking for a dominate female to spank you all night-- Fuck off. Unless her character encounters your teeny-tiny E-peen male in a realistic manner that is not forced and calls for a spanking (which would most likely end in your character death) Do not talk to Bunny. She will killz you.
She expects character dynamic and involvement. Her partner should be able to interact with themselves and still have a suitable story. She mostly enjoys having more than one character to play off of otherâs. She likes multi-character play. She would be happy enough writing by herself. Thatâs what her role-plays are after all. A collaboration story. Bunny has no problem playing with herself⦠mmmm, ohm, yeah--baby!
Run-Away-Bunny:
Due to personal reasons no incest will be in her role-plays. Rape is optional for the story, but in no way turns Bunny on. Neither does waste, or strange painful objects. Like curling irons in odd holes. Bunny expects a story, not a cyber-sex scene where you get off.
Bunny iDEAS:
STRINGS: A single string, like silver silk, spun upon a spindle. A string woven with life by steady hands. The single string by which shears do cut, ending destiny. One single string drawing us closer, tentatively, ever patiently to our real destiny. A single string urging a few to their true destiny.
Those that govern our destiny; three sisters whom have woven tapestries bound by our fate. Threads bound by lives, sown to infuse their lives upon other's.
Three that hold dominion over fate, alike in face, bound my blood and clothed in cream.
Bent upon a bench of gold Klotho labors upon her distaff. Tediously, with pricked fingers she instills life into each strand. She is the mother of your fate.
With golden rod in hand Lachesis measures your worth, before tiredly threading her needles. She weaves the thread into the fabric of one's actions, faithfully attentive. She is the guardian of your fate.
Clasped like stone Astropos holds the shears. She stands poised above thread drawn taunt. Appearing ridged she decides the inevitable. With one abrupt lunge the thread slackens, falling in halves to the floor. She is the ender of your fate.
The Moirae are the three sisters, robed in white, who decide on human fate. Lachesis sings of the those that are, Atropos things that were, and Klotho the things that are to be.
Summary: You have been shafted of life, and therefore now exist in a spirit like dimension, caught between life and death. You're one of the >Insert Group number< that have been executed before you were born. You awake, or rather are born at any age or gender due to the explosion of the sands of time. After all, if time breaks, then who's to say what age you would be when you're born? Of course, your in the nude, so Atem who knows of the company's destiny hands out robes. He then explains about the book of Destiny. The book writes about the destiny of those who posses it, did I mention it also lists the artifacts that are needed to fix everything? It was created by the Three sisters, go figure.
Anyway, Atem instructs you to rip your name from the book. If you don't exist in the book then you can't be killed again by the fates. The book is basically your life. The lives of the dead or dying have been woven into the pages. So, that's where you are. But, you can't loose your name, otherwise you won't be able to ever exist again. Oh, did I ALSO mention because you didn't exist nor remember the life you didn't live Atem named you? So sad. Then, he goes on and on about how you have to fix fate. He explains that the sisters took your life to become younger. Now they appear to be the age of eight or nine. For some reason, you get the impression that he loves Klotho. Which, he does...But, he admits to stealing the book of destiny from his love, as well as Melpomene's Knife. What a little thief.
So he blabbers on and on, about strings. He says that if you defy the fates that they control you through strings. One of your emotions, one of your mind, and finally of your physical self. But, because you're not in the book or are about to rip your name from it you won't be in danger of it. Of course, he seems a bit depressed, he's seems to be thinking, Dammit why can't I live and not you. But, Atem is the hero that supports the heroes. Hopefully he'll be recognized for that in the end...
He gets really moody though and ends up throwing money at you, talking about a town called Medre...There's town's in the spirit world? Schweet. In any case, he then throws the dagger at you, but that's after he talks about the sands of time and puts it in a box. Something about never being able to fix anything if you loose one grain of sand in the box. Talk about pressure- better give it to the responsible one in the group.
On and on he talks, oh, and then- it get's better. He demands that you kill him. What the FLIP is that? First you wake up in the nude, some guy says you were born, but you weren't... It's all very confusing, then he expects you to band together to save time, space, basically the universe of fate and destiny. I mean...come on you woke up naked with these strangers, talk about awkward and now you have to kill the only guy that was at first rather sane...
Hmm...maybe he has something to do with Medre...we should go there, you know after we kill this guy, rip our names from the book, and find out exactly what the hell is going on...
The Second Course of Humanity:
Humanity has been pushed away from their former home. Earth, made inhospitable by mankind, rejected it's keepers who were forced from their sphere and into the cold dark reaches of space. Their negligence came faster than needed advancement, and stellar travel had not been perfected by the time of mankind's evacuation, leaving them to roam the vacuum.
At first, the people of Earth were crammed into limited emergency transport, but from excessive planet hopping and and limited terra-forming, humanity was able build itself proper transport from resources on it's many visited planets. Over time, the comforts of a home planet were forgotten, and over centuries of deep space travel, mankind has adapted to the near claustrophobic environment and grew fearful of planets, making their stays short, paranoid of negative contact.
Word of the wordless race spread throughout the galaxy, and while brief, mankind has made contact with other races and peoples with extraterrestrial origins.
Now traveling the galaxy as nomads, humanity roams the cold reaches in a massive fleet. A massive flag ship leads the way, it's incredible girth matches that of nations back on Earth. While most of the commerce bustles on this titanic ship, residents are few. Families, instead, live in the many frigates that follow the flagship. Also, as always, mankind is not without defense. Still maintaining a military, the fleet is half navy. The singular warship, which contains all of the drop ships, battleships, support, and soldiers of the navy, is never too far from the flagship
This is what remains of Earth's people. They have left their past behind and only move forward.
Welcome to Province: Sol
Scarlet Hell Manor
Listen to the whispers that float upon the winds, caressing even softly the dead. Hear the whispers- are you listening to the song sung by the mute.
Her voice silent, sooths sweetly in deafening octaves, calling and weaving you to the land of blood.
A siren captivating you while still she lingers captive herself.
She's crying out in silence while the heartbeat of the land races blood through vines, stones and mirrors.
There she stands, upon lands bathed in blood- sinking into the moisture of loves and enemies gone past. Time enriched in immortal blood bound to hell on Earth.
Scarlet is your sight, silence in her voice as she tells you her tail with a feeble smile, waning behind tired eyes.
Lit by candle she beckons you past hellâs threshold into the prison she is lost to, an attentive bow of the head. Are you the savior of hell, or will your blood bring a flood upon these lands? Bring that which is not stained by blood and cry out in anguish as youâre consumed by scarlet. No innocence remains upon lands bathed in blood.
For deep in the ground of hell, well below the stones, caressed by roots and reflected in mirrors lays the countess of hell. Immortal in beauty and youth she sleeps, soaking blood from the enriched soil. The cause of blood, she bring eternity to the manor. Cruel and restless she needs but strength from a mighty being to rise her from depths.
Still, the battle to find her is but the battle to find youth and beauty, with her a holy grail of blood is buried. Within well cut rubies and inlaid gold pulses the power of the first of damned. She carries with her the blood, with her she carries the past of mortals tortured and departed.
She bathed in blood of fallen girls. While you enter the castle you feel whispers turns to shouts for revenge, blood and justice- and still the she devil purrs with greed of beauty and floats behind reflective surfaces. For her power and she is bound to the lands as much as the sweet girl is bound to a life teetering on immortality and death.
Wishing to bring but more blood, the she devils wraps icy fingers upon she that whispers for release. Bring more blood, she wishes for the taste of immortal blood, she's too powerful to be sustained upon mortals life.
Guard your blood upon entering the Scarlet Hell Manor.
Story of the Muses
"Look for no ending to this agony until a god will
freely suffer for you, will take on her your pain, and in
your stead descend to Earth. Know this, that from your
race will spring Nine glorious in heart, and set humanity free. With their song they will charm, moving hearts
with their melody. From man iron tears will be drawn
and grant what Love did seek.
He is happy whom the Muses love."
The Universe created the gods. But, long before there were gods, Heaven and Earth had been formed. After a great many wars where Titans and Giants alike clashed in epic battles, serenity caressed the inhabitants of Olympia. The gods themselves created men when monsters were banished from Mother Earth. The land was soon deemed 'The land of mankind.'
The gods made first a golden race. These, although mortal, lived like gods, without sorrow of heart, far from toil and pain. This race was most beloved of the gods. When the grave covered them they became pure spirits, beneficent, the guardians of mankind. But, such perfection began to tarnish and soon the Gods twined a new metal with life.
The second race of silver was very inferior to the first. They had so little intelligence that they could not keep from harming each other. They too passed away, but, unlike the golden race, their spirits did not live on after them. This metal being imperfect for mortal creations the gods once again ventured to a new material.
The next race was Brass. They were terrible men, immensely strong and such lovers of war and violence that they were completely destroyed by their own hands. Feeling disdain the gods continued their experiments, searching for the perfect matter to give Mother Earth to. The failure of the Brass race, however, was all to the good, for they were followed by a splendid race of godlike heroes who fought glorious wars and went on great adventures which men have talked and sung of through all the ages since. Copper departed finally to the isles of the blessed, where they lived in perfect bliss forever.
The fifth race is that which is now upon the Earth: the iron race. To punish the gods who bestowed love upon the mortals Zeus created woman, adding complications to the iron. They live in evil times and their nature too, has much of evil, so that they never have rest from toil and sorrow. As the generations pass, they grow worse; sons are always inferior to their fathers. A time will come when they have grown so wicked that they will worship power; might will be right to them and reverence for the good will cease to be. At last when no man is angry any more at wrongdoings or feels shame in the presence of the miserable, Zeus will destroy them too.
But, those that beloved the mortals beseech the King of Olympia. Mnemosyne, the one of memory came to her lover, falling at his feet. Knowing the trials of each race she proclaimed that each in turn would turn to imperfection. 'I tried to bare my loss, each and every time. Each race drifting into my memory but without lessons being learned. I can not bear it any longer. Love is too strong a god. O King, you know if that old tale men tell is true, how once even gold began to tarnish. See, I ask a little thing, only that you will lend, not give time to me. They shall be your's if still scarred when this year's span is full.'
The almighty King sat upon his throne, his thoughts churning, 'Go and persuade the sea wave not to break, you will persuade me no more easily. The mortals may not look for an ending to their agony until a god will freely suffer for them, will take on her their pain, and in their stead descend to earth.'
Mnemosyne sobbed in desperation, 'They are all of one mind, their hearts are set upon song and their spirit is free from care. He is happy whom the Muses love. For though a man has sorrow and grief in his soul, yet when the servant of the Muses sings, at once he forgets his dark thoughts and remembers not his troubles. Such is the hold gift of the muses to Men. I beseech you to grant my pleasure.'
The lord merely tensed and sternly ventured, 'A profusion of delight?'
Knowing the essence of his question Mnemosyne forced his mind to sway, 'Know this, that from your race will spring nine glorious in heart, and set humanity free. With their song they will charm, moving hearts with their melody. From man iron tears will be drawn and grant what love did seek.'
'You wish to bring tears to that of Iron with womanly charms?'
'O King, of violence, of love and of sorrow, beg for just a year of tomorrow. Only you may give the breath of life.'
So the lord granted Memories' desire, sending nine under guidance of Apollo. (Large group Role play. Would love to develop the idea further.)
-In the Eve-
Society has faltered. Flung into the recess of oblivion; only a few have survived. But, as the decades faded away the History of man-kind became dimmer. The very spirit of humanity was only a flicker in the foundation of Evolution.
The Earth has begun to heal the deep chasm of wounds that humanity inflicted. Resorting to expansive forests, huge mountains and gullies where once seas raged. Miles of savanna and new creatures speckle this wholesome environment where once metal rose to the clouds.
A self-inflicted extinction took away any trace of the old-world. But, as the dust of biological war settled so to rose a new race. Mutated into existence the traces of humanity partook into decades of evolution. The beginnings of a new society appeared. A society of creatures. Watchers, Gatherers, Scouts and Hunters were appointed at birth in a complicated tribal system. Each category with a specific gene that befitted their post. Speed, enhanced hearing, the thirst for survival.
But, âhumansâ are no longer the top. An adventure of survival at the bottom of the food-chain.
