Character Study: A Series of Short Stories

Have you got a game, book or movie you'd like to make a story out of? Want to expand on a story or plot that stopped? Have an original idea for a story that you want to post somewhere? Here's where to do it. Basically an RPG where one player controls ALL characters in the story.

Character Study: A Series of Short Stories

Postby C S » Fri Feb 25, 2011 9:36 am

Author's Note: Basically what the title says. A series of various short stories with no set continuity or ties to RPGs but feature my characters.

Time and Testament

"There are many times when I look back at my life and take a moment to think about how far Ive come. Its staggering, really, when I realize just how Ive progressed through life. By progress, I mean mistakes; so many mistakes Ive made since I came into this world. Most came back to bite me in the ***. So much so, that Ive gotten used to it. I could even tell you which bite hurts more than the other, really. Its happened so much, I can actually figure which mistakes were the biggest, even ones from...ages prior, not like it helps anything in the long run. Some of these 'bites' arent figurative either.

Im sure I have a few scars here and there...not that I look at my own *** or anything. Trial and error, as they say. Except that I have an affinity for the error part. By some inexplicable stroke of luck, walking and running across tree branches became second nature to me without me breaking my legs while learning. Then again, me surviving past hatchlinghood without the care from others is an inexplicable result in itself. I find myself lamenting over some of the mistakes I made as a hatchling. Mistakes that could have resulted in my death. You wouldnt be here listening to my rambling if fate had took its more...unforgiving route. It would've been your loss, surely. Luckilly, fate took mercy upon my scaly green hide. Instead of killing me, it allowed me to live on. Allowed me to live on and create my own hell. Y'see, some mistakes I made came after my *** with big mouths and hungry stomachs. After they chewed off what they could, they left wonderful little gifts: memories. Oh how I loathe memories, but at the same time, Im forced to cherish them. Among the... less favorable experiances of my life, there are quite a few moments where one can say I was...'happy'. It is ironic then, that these happy memories transition to the horrid tidbits that litter my mind. They compound the problem, like standing at an edge of a cliff, looking down at tree tops below while an angry Rex comes lumbering from behind.

As long as I remember those moments of joy, I will always be plagued by the unpleasant times of my life. Despite this, I cling to those fleeting moments of happiness like a stubborn hatchling holding onto the last strip of carion of a carcass, fighting off the compies vying for it as well...or was I the only hatchling that fought compies for scraps of meat? Anyway, I could just as easilly gave up those fond memories. I could have let them fade away, and with them the unpleasantness, but then I would have nothing to look back on. My past would be blank, my present would be bland, and my future would be bleak! Hell, I'd be like...like Darkness, the thought sends shudders down my spine. We already share too much similarities for my liking. So in a way, the raptor I am today was forged by the mistakes he made in the past. The things that define Aircrest are not his green scales, black stripes or specks, nor his amber eyes. They are his mistakes, each one taking bites out of his sorry *** and leaving their little gifts. They had just as much, if not more of an impact on his life as the day he met Ripper, or when he took a mate. Since the day he hatched, mistakes were a part of his life. They taught him, helped him learn to heep himself alive. Ultimately, they are what made him who he is today. I am who I am because of the mistakes I made in my life. The pain that I feel because of them...is only proof of my own existence. A testament that this is reality, and not some bad, twisted dream. Its amazing what one finds out when you give them just a little too much free time. I should probably go do something...else."

Desire and Delirium

A long winding dirt path cuts through a forest, small shrubs lining the sides with burly tree branches stretching over head. The rich green leaves are bright as the sun light shines through them, streaming through breaks in the tree top. The road is well worn, used by many on a regular basis. Small ruts have begun to form because of all the carts and carriages that use the route through the woods. Currently there was nothing on the road, nothing except a strange figure walking along it. It lingered to the left of the road, kicking a rock about with a pair of short pointed sabatons. It was a strange figure who called itself Desrium. Very few knew that, for very few have spoken to him. Desrium's abillity to find himself completely isolated only added to his obscurity. Few managed to come across a path frequented by many, yet not seeing a single soul on their travel. That is, of course, if you exclude the animals. Bird songs continually filled the forest. There was the occasional fluttering as one of the bright feathered creatures shot over head. There was also the occasional rustling to Desrium's side. Nothing ever came out of the brush. The sound would always fade into the woods as creatures scurried away.

Eventually, Desrium found himself standing at the forest's edge, the terrain beyond being rolling hills. In the distance he saw the sun dipping the large grassy mounds, the sky a bright orange, and the formally light grey clouds were dark in contrast. A breeze blew through the area, rustling the leaves around the armored being. A low lying dust cloud rolled past his feet. After a moment to take in the scenery, Desrium continued onwards, walking along the path as it swerved around and over the hills, continuing until night fall. When darkness fell across the land, he sat at the edge of the path, detatched the sheathe he carried on his back and laid it on the grassy ground. He then put his head down on it, laying down with his red gaze to the heavens. His eyes never closed. It seemed like he was watching the stars move across the sky the entire night.

By the early light of Dawn, Desrium started to move again, wandering down the road, staying to the left. It was the norm of this journey. Every day he went on like this, covering incredible distances by sun down. He never faltered, despite the hunger and thirst he felt. He kept steady pace and balance despite the pleading of his legs to stop and rest. What no one knows about Desrium is he has a goal. A vague goal, but one he strives to achieve. The desire to do good is what gives his life meaning and purpose, for he has nothing else. He is alone in the world and feared by most. He knows that all too well. To be looked upon by eyes and not be scorned is something he wishes for. To be accepted, maybe even praised for his actions. Surely he is mad, he might as well be delirious to have such a desire, for the world has no place in its heart for something like him

Beyond The Clouds

Scaly eyelids part from side to side while a white, translucent inner lens slides downwards; revealing large pitch-black ellipses that glisten wetly. The blue scaled being blinks a few times to adjust to the light above him, a circular lamp showering him in a soft white glow. A whir is heard and a screen moves into the alien’s gaze, casting a shadow on part of his face. He turns his head slightly to look at the blank monitor being held by a slim mechanical arm. Green symbols appear on the screen, lines of text in the being’s own language. “Hibernation override: Successful. Biosigns: Nominal. Organic functions resuming, Homeostasis achieved. Welcome back Captain Taalrik”

Several more whirs sounded off. The mechanical arm pulled the screen away from his face. Another slipped off a silver device with a tube connected to it that covered his mouth and nose, a breathing apparatus. Another undid his fastenings that bounded him to the white bed he laid on, while another disconnected the cables and wires hooked up to the alien. The clear, plastic like window that hung over him parted, a thin seam appearing between the two pieces that then flipped up. Galaak slowly rose into a sitting position, joints cracking. It had been a while since he last moved. He glanced to a nearby screen that was projecting his vital signs, the read out disappearing a few seconds later now that the machines weren’t hooked up to him. He didn’t have much clothing on, just a light weight, off white sleeveless vest and trunks. The vest had an insignia over the chest area, a blue circle with strange black symbols written over it. The symbols would have spelled “Galactic Council” in the Ascatians’ written language. The vest had a slit down the back, allowing the alien’s dorsal fin to fit through. The same applied to the bed. Galaak stayed on the bed for a few minutes, coming back to terms with reality. This wasn’t his first time leaving Deep Space hibernation. He knew all too well that jumping back to his feet and immediately tackling the matters at hand was not a good idea. Doing so would result in all kinds of problems, ranging from migraines to disorientation. It wasn’t what an explorer wanted to experience after a prolonged sleep.
Not too long after, Galaak had left the bed and got back into his proper attire. He had on a light grey form fitting shirt with long sleeves and slits for the fins on his forearms. It had two stripes running across the front that crossed over his midsection. A dark grey belt wrapped around his waist through silver loops on his black pants. He had what looked like boots on his feet, with a blue trim around the bottom. The explorer made his way to the command module at the foremost section of his craft. He sat in his chair and the various consoles and screens situated around him lit up. Symbols streamed across panels, lights flickered. “E-Doch, my Unisceroux please.” Galaak said with a series of growling syllables of his native tongue. The craft obliged. The panel over Galaak’s head parted, and in the grip of mechanical claspers was the explorer’s watch like device. He took the Unisceroux and promptly fastened it to his wrist. The device was a metallic gray with a green elliptical display, several buttons below it. It made a hum once it was back on the explorer’s wrist. The display flashed before projecting a hologram, an intricate 3D star map. Out of a crowd of twinkling specks in the hologram, one was selected, and the image shifted from a general view of the Milky Way to the one star. Another line of symbols appeared near the bright orb, meaning Orlion. “It’s time to get to work” Galaak rumbled to himself, before saying out loud “E-Doch, deactivate standby mode”
At that, a low electronic hum sounded off within the ship. Galaak’s eyes were locked on what was ahead of him, a black metallic wall. Soon that changed, as individual pieces of the “wall” started to split and move apart. The “wall” was in actuality, a series of solar panels, taking advantage of the burning colossus at the center of the solar system. The projection from the Urisceroux disappeared shortly after. With the solar panels now stored within the ship, Galaak had full view of what they were blocking. The craft was in the orbit of a planet, not too bigger than the explorer’s own home world, just swinging around its night side. The glare of the white hot sun in the distance was lessened by the craft’s light filter. It was hard to see the clouds that hung in the planet’s shadow, and even then it was harder to see past them. They were thick and covered miles. This would be an interesting place of study indeed…
Last edited by C S on Mon Feb 28, 2011 5:40 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Character Study: A Series of Short Stories

Postby Doc 42 » Sun Feb 27, 2011 3:13 am

Wall of texts don't make for good reading. Put in some paragraphs.

EDIT: Much better.
Quite interesting, would be nice to see other characters.
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