Durandal

This: It's actually a pretty good song.

Food wise, celery. Bleuch. Drink wise, there was this white medicine I had to take when I was younger, I could barely get it down without wanting to throw up. Even thinking about it now is making me slightly nauseous.

I'm majoring in Arts and Technology, which includes most fields pertaining to Game Design and Animation. I'll most likely minor in Communications, but may go for Political Science or Sociology instead.

While Aero's silence concerned Metis, he became distracted with the light show that consumed the pegasus. Without reason, the flow around Aero became rapid and jerky. The auroras appeared to start and stop rapidly, surging in and out of his core. Oddly enough, the first thing that came to his mind was how the heartrate dramatically increased when panicking. Looking at Aero closer, he noticed the flurry of microexpressions that were an internal conflict. He finally turned away, agreeing with Metis. Was he seeing his heartbeat? No, that couldn't be it. It was too elaborate, and blood didn't flow outside the body like these auroras did. But that could only mean one thing. Am... Am I seeing his emotions? Metis gaped internally, trying to come to terms with this idea. That didn't make any sense, but it perfectly described what he was seeing. It couldn't be. Could it? He latched onto the pulsating auroras, siphoning them away until they began to stabilize. While he expected Aero to calm down, what he didn't expect was the sudden influx of panic. He hadn't just extracted that fear, he'd taken it on as his own. He gasped, the sudden influx of emotions a literal shock to his system. He broke off the bond immediately and steadied himself, taking deep breaths. But underneath his panic was another, very unusual feeling - he felt satiated, like he'd eaten a full meal. The feeling took him by surprise, adding to his panic. How in the world did taking an emotion make him feel full? The idea was so ridiculous, so preposterous that it trumped everything else he'd been through today. Bug-horse? No problem. Being lured into a fountain by some force? Scary, but fine. Feeding off emotions? No. He couldn't handle that. It was stupid, how on earth did an emotion give someone sustenance? Even now he was feeling his own set of emotions, were his special? How did they not nourish him? Why were others different? In fact, he felt so confounded by this possibility that it was almost offensive. It was an affront to logic, to reality. It drove him mad. Remembering what Lunaris had said about returning to their old bodies, he picked up his pace. This world was nonsensical, it should not exist, and it most definitely was not for him. He had been ambivalent before, almost taking interest in his newfound powers, but that had thrown him off the edge. He longed for the sensibility of reality, regardless of what he lost in the process. "I agree. The sooner we get back to the university the better," he said, a sharp edge to his voice.

About to start reading The Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler as an assignment for a class. I recently finished The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula Le Guin for the same class, and it's an amazing book. I would suggest that everyone read it, it's that good of a book. The amount of depth it goes into in under two hundred pages would put many other books to shame.

Metis snapped off a piece of crystal, watching its delicate glow rise and fall like his own breathing. He'd never seen anything like it. Of course, there were many things about this world that were radically new to him. Like himself. Typically that would have been an absurd proposition - how can one's self be new? Yet he couldn't escape the fact that he now knew nothing about himself, his abilities, or his past. All that remained are of his life after, and the hazy half-thoughts that slowly shifted his thinking. He lifted his hoof, analyzing it. Did he always refer to them that way? He couldn't have, before all this he didn't have hooves. So why did it feel so normal? And why had he referred to himself as Metis? Slowly he began to fear that his mind was not his own - that soon nothing would be left or the human that he was before as whatever this thing was began to reassert its control. Biting his lip, he turned to Aero. He still looked like he wanted to run away, but he was actively attempting to speak with him. A noble cause, and hopefully he could learn something from the experience. "Uh... Refer to me as Artful Campaign, please." He nodded, a grim smile on his face before nodding to himself. "But it's... I don't know how to describe it. Exhilarating, amazing, awesome. I'm doing and seeing things no human has probably experienced before, it's..." His mind scrambled for the right word, but soon came to the conclusion there was none. Simply put, his experience, their experience, defied definition. People simply didn't turn into sentient horses, griffin-dogs, and dog-humans. The idea was so ridiculous, so laughable... He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "This is all so silly. One minute we're at a fountain, next we're an entirely different species. I want this to be some bad LSD trip or dream so bad, but it feels so real. I should be panicking, we should all be panicking. We have no idea what is going on, who we are or if we even are ourselves anymore, and yet we're so calm. Speaks to the resilience of the human spirit, doesn't it?"

So that we're all on the same page, what Metis sees are each person's emotions. When he makes connections to other people he's taking their emotions. I wanted to see if anyone would pick up on this, but he will be experimenting with this in the future. I'd be godmodding by having the others notice their fatigue or whatever else is canon for you guys, so I wanted to make that clear before we have any inconsistencies.

Metis shuffled uneasily. While Lunaris was unaffected by his current form, the others looked positively distressed, even averting their eyes. While he'd never been self-conscious about his appearance, fear was not the sort of reaction he was used to. He wished he could have looked more normal, if that was even possible. Metis could feel himself overcome with this sensation of longing as his horn flashed. Dazed by the sudden change, he shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye he realized something different. Lifting up one of his hooves, he realized he'd changed completely! Gone was the dark grey, swiss cheese exoskeleton, replaced by his normal skin tone. He wasn't human, but it was progress at least. "Fascinating..." He muttered, looking himself over. His attire had changed - it was still a uniform, but he now wore a light-grey tunic with yellow trim and tall rubber boots. As well, he noticed that he had hair, and that he had developed a 'butt-mark', as Aero had described it, of a black rook. He couldn't look over his cap, unfortunately, as each time he took it off it returned to its previous form. "Hah! I can shapeshift!" Metis concluded, grinning ear to ear. Noticing that Aero was pointing elsewhere, he decided to work on his shape shifting later - leaving this cave was a bigger priority. "We have to start somewhere, so why not?"

"What's your name, Bug-Horse?" Turning towards the dog-griffon, Metis took a deep breath. Now wasn't time for such displays, though he was still reeling from all the implications of their predicament. He stumbled over to the cap he'd forgotten earlier, thankfully untouched by the pink dog-human. Donning it, he could feel the worst of his emotions subside. Officers wore these caps, and they didn't break down. Officers knew what needed to be done, and how to accomplish it. How dare he wear this cap and not act the part? "Apate Metis," he responded, immediately baffled. Why did he use that name? It had been years since he'd gone by that name, out of both security and preference. Artful Campaign was a far more suitable name for an officer. Yet, despite the cap on his head, Metis felt more appropriate. Perhaps it was him subconsciously distancing himself from his new, alien form. It looked nothing like him, after all. Returning his attention to the dog-griffon, his jaw quite literally dropped. Now that he focused, really focused on the others, he noticed something more. It was almost impossible to describe - the experience wasn't quite visual, rather it felt like an entirely new sense. Around each of the three creatures he saw slight distortions, as if there was a layer of hot air around them. But it wasn't just a distortion - these ripples flowed through them like blood, extending outward from what appeared to be their head and heart. It had a color, in fact the air appeared as several colors, a randomized stream of discernible colors, certain ones rising and falling in magnitude in tune with some unseen process. But there was one problem - these were colors, but they were different colors. It was like he was seeing a whole new array of colors he never could before. It was breathtaking. "Whoa," he finally remarked, unable to focus on anything but this beautiful display. "I, like..." He tried hard, so desperately hard to explain what he was seeing. But nothing felt right, like it wasn't enough. It frustrated him to no end, but he tried anyway. "It's like I can... Can see uhm, the blood flowing through you. It's all these different colors, except not colors at all. I'm not the only one seeing this, right?" He focused on the aurora, trying to figure it out. It couldn't be blood, could it? That made no sense. He followed the trail to the dog-griffin's head, noticing that it flickered and fluctuated with several colors, pumping them out on a constant basis. Mesmerized by it, he attempted to reach out to it. Perhaps it was an illusion? Just then, the orb changed, swiftly making a connection with him. He jolted suddenly, and then realized that he could taste something. It wasn't anything he recognized, in fact he felt like the taste itself was indecisive. The stream itself was a single color, unlike the ones that streamed through the dog-griffon's body. He waved a hoof in front of his face, dispelling it. "Okay, this is weird. I reached out to this orb thing I could see in your head and it linked with me, and it had a weird taste," he smacked his lips before grimacing. "What the hell is going on? What's with this place? And why do you all look like that?" He needed answers badly, but all he was getting were questions. He was going to go mad if this kept up.

After the initial shock of discovering his new appearance, Metis couldn't help but feel like there was something bigger at work here. Control of his mind had been stripped from him by that fountain. By the time he'd recovered it, he'd been... Changed? He still remembered everything, and he could still feel his old body, as if it were a ghost. He had to have been transformed somehow, regardless of how ridiculous that seemed. Everything led to that conclusion. Metis was abruptly thrown from his reverie by a large, pink thing tumbling towards him. Leaping out of the way, he turned to look at it. It was bipedal, in fact almost human-like, except different. Its legs were different, as if a dog's, and the arms were grossly out of proportion. The head was much more doglike, with a small snout and drooping ears, though it still had hair, which was oddly an entirely different color - a dark brown. It had a tail that terminated in a tuft of brown fur, the same color as its hair. It wore a simple, red vest, along with a necklace and some form of ornament on its tail. But for how unusual it was, it was familiar. It wasn't like anyone he knew, but he could have sworn he'd seen someone very similar to this thing earlier. He gasped as her eyes opened, making it clear who she was. "You're... You're that girl from earlier, aren't you? The one that private eye was talking to..." This didn't make any sense. He turned around on instinct, somehow believing the action would clear his head. Looking over he was met with two more vaguely recognizable forms - one looked like a pegasus, another like some hybrid between a griffon and a dog. And then it all made sense. They'd fallen into that fountain and turned into entirely different creatures. It was beyond reason - everything within him screamed that it was ridiculous, that he'd hit his head too hard and was hallucinating, but that couldn't be possible. He'd never seen things like these before, his mind couldn't just make up this sort of thing on the spot. Which meant this had to be real. But wait. Those missing persons... He wasn't too interested in the cases, but the media successfully drilled one thing into his head: they were always around the university. Why else would so many people be disappearing in a single area without so much as a trace? And he'd never heard of any bodies - to his knowledge people simply vanished. It made so much sense, but it couldn't be more absurd. People falling into a fountain and ending up in another world? It felt like the plot line for some terrible fan fiction story. But he couldn't deny what he was seeing - they'd changed into entirely different beings, and this felt far too real to be any sort of trickery. But... That could only mean- His hindlegs gave out underneath him, his face contorted in shock. Then, he laughed. It started out slow at first, but it slowly rose into a crescendo as he held his hooves to his head. He looked like a madman, his face alternating between several different expressions. Then, he began to sob, all of his pent up anxiety and hope, confidence and despair, all of it bursting out in a flurry of emotion that straddled the line between weeping and laughing. He couldn't control it, the emotions were too strong, too raw for him to reel in. Covering his eyes with his hooves, he bit down on the worst of his feelings, willing his mouth to close. With time they became weak and feeble, much like he was. He swallowed them back down. "God I'm a mess," he bemoaned, his voice hollow and defeated, his throat giving out. "I'm sorry."

But... But that's as much as four tens! THAT'S TERRIBLE!

I have this baby. Limited Edition World of Tanks Razer Deathadder

9/10 Kinda slow to start, but pretty cool.

The world dropped away, replaced by a soft but enveloping pink glow. He could only see the fountain, in all its glory. But something pulled him from its divine surface. The pink glow became blinding as he turned towards its source, though he could just barely make out what appeared to be water. His body reached out to touch it, no longer under his control. The cool sensation of the water was euphoric, like drinking a bottle of water after nearly dying of dehydration. But what drew his attention was the reflection in the water. It wasn't him, it couldn't be. It looked nothing like him. He was a completely normal human being, but what looked back at him was... Insectoid. Its eyes were a solid purple, the only indication of their direction being a soft white gradient that grew stronger at their center. Its body was a dark grey, with mangled, thin protrusions he could only assume were ears, a smooth, angled horn, a snout, and long, gleaming fangs. It appeared to be wearing what he assumed was a peaked cap, a black and grey affair with a purple band, an emblem of a hive overlaid by cross swords in its center. The sight was enough to knock him out of his daze, but he realized it was too late. Yanking his hand back, he realized that it was stuck. The pink glow once again enveloped him, but this time it began to pull him in. He screamed at the top of his lungs, and for a few fleeting seconds, he realized the creature was too. What followed was a blur of pink and indescribable sensations. His senses failed, cutting him off from the world for a few, horrifying seconds. But just as easily as they vanished, they returned. The pink haze slowly released him from its grip, followed by an information overload. Even as his senses attempted to catch up with what had happened, he realized something earth-shattering. This wasn't the university entrance any more. Before him was the ceiling of a cave, stalactites filling his vision like rain frozen in time. Once he was sure the world wasn't spinning and that he could trust his body enough to move, he attempted to right himself. Rolling to his side he began to pick himself up, but before he could do so he froze. It was a subtle feeling, but it was there. He'd heard about what happened to vets who lost various body parts. Phantom pain, it was called - where you felt something that wasn't there. It was quick, sharp pain, something you could easily overlook, but he felt it. Trying again, the pain vanished, replaced by an unnerving feeling of normality. Pressing his right arm on the ground, he felt like his hand was balled into a fist. There was no tension in the fingers, in fact it felt like his hoof was relaxed. Looking down, it became clear why it felt that way. His hand was gone. No. His entire arm was gone, replaced by a dark grey, stumpy horse foreleg. Holes littered it, though there was no apparent damage. His body slumped, unable to support itself. Contorting his face in terror, he held the leg away from him as if to push it away. This action caused something to fall from his head. Looking over, he was met with the same peaked cap that he saw before on that creature. But... It can't be... That was... He looked up, and was met with a smooth, angled horn. "WHAT THE FUCK!?"

1 These plebians shall not win.

I've been RPing since I was twelve, and every single RP I've seen has died due to inactivity. People lose interest, people get busy and stop posting (or even vanish), misunderstandings and courtesy lead to people sitting on their hands, et cetera et cetera. Invariably, the likelihood of an RP dying exponentially grows the more members there are. And this goes hand in hand with peoples' expectations. Inactivity leads to loss of interest and impatience, which leads to more inactivity. People give up or lose interest because an RP is slow, increasing the likelihood that it'll slow down even further. The best and longest-living RPs are that way because of a small and organized group lead by a motivated GM. The ad hoc nature of RPs makes this difficult to achieve, as most people are not well-connected enough to achieve this sort of organization. But in the end giving up is the worst thing you can do when it comes to an RP.

On the contrary, I think I'd be perfectly capable of continuing at a faster rate. My initial slowness was due to waiting for others to contribute and false assumptions about story progression. Now that we have less people to worry about I think we'll be capable of moving much faster. I'm willing to continue playing, you and Arylett seem eager to see this through, and I'm sure FortyTwo was slowed by the same problems I had. It'd be relatively easy to accommodate for the lost players: they can simply be teleported elsewhere. EDIT: Also I could have sworn I followed the RP, which explains why I didn't realize it had progressed further. I've since rectified this issue.