[This is a choose your own adventure! Post what you choice you'd like to see in the thread, or post your own suggestion. Posts will be done sporadically, probably when I get some free time, so you will probably have time to change your vote if you want to. Interaction with others/with the main character is fine, but if someone votes to tickle your character with a feather, I cannot be held accountable! This is more an opportunity to stretch some writing muscles that have gone rusty, and get to know the community a bit better. If nobody has given input by the end of the week, I'll just choose a choice at random.]
The docks call to the bull-beast as he wakes, like a distant siren's song urging him closer. Inside one of the many dark, dank alleys of La Citta's slums, bright red orbs for eyes burn to life in the black void that was the rest of him. The size of him should announce his presence in thunderous footfalls, but no such things resounded when he skulks out of the alley. He peers cautiously into the street, hearing no distant echo of chatter in the dimly lit straightaway. It was before morning, and little was up this late that was friendly to it, save other monstrosities. The bull beast wore clothes to preserve whatever sense of decency he could possibly have, but they were ragged, either sliced badly by a blade or bashed with an ugly stick. The bull remembered little of where he was, but he knew one way led to the church, and one way led to the dock.
Whatever it was that called to him inspires shiver along it's back. Or maybe it was just cold after spending a night in the alley again? He didn't need to eat to live anymore, but when he didn't, he felt empty, somehow losing even more of what it was than it already had. New clothes might be in order, but he didn't know where he would get them, especially in his size. It's not that the bullbeast never thought about mugging someone, it's just that he didn't know how to fight, at least not usually. His mind was already racing with worries, a soft sigh escaped it probably more out of habit than necessity. Smoke billows from the subtle white line of where his lips used to be, closing to hide the white shining void within.
What should the bull-beast do?
A) Go to the docks!
B ) Try to remember.. Get it's bearings.
C) Maybe give it another shot! Get some clothes, get some food, and try to talk to someone.
D) You suggest!
The docks call to the bull-beast as he wakes, like a distant siren's song urging him closer. Inside one of the many dark, dank alleys of La Citta's slums, bright red orbs for eyes burn to life in the black void that was the rest of him. The size of him should announce his presence in thunderous footfalls, but no such things resounded when he skulks out of the alley. He peers cautiously into the street, hearing no distant echo of chatter in the dimly lit straightaway. It was before morning, and little was up this late that was friendly to it, save other monstrosities. The bull beast wore clothes to preserve whatever sense of decency he could possibly have, but they were ragged, either sliced badly by a blade or bashed with an ugly stick. The bull remembered little of where he was, but he knew one way led to the church, and one way led to the dock.
Whatever it was that called to him inspires shiver along it's back. Or maybe it was just cold after spending a night in the alley again? He didn't need to eat to live anymore, but when he didn't, he felt empty, somehow losing even more of what it was than it already had. New clothes might be in order, but he didn't know where he would get them, especially in his size. It's not that the bullbeast never thought about mugging someone, it's just that he didn't know how to fight, at least not usually. His mind was already racing with worries, a soft sigh escaped it probably more out of habit than necessity. Smoke billows from the subtle white line of where his lips used to be, closing to hide the white shining void within.
What should the bull-beast do?
A) Go to the docks!
B ) Try to remember.. Get it's bearings.
C) Maybe give it another shot! Get some clothes, get some food, and try to talk to someone.
D) You suggest!
Moonlight dappled the dreary walk, illuminating the world between interspersed torches. It reveals the path ahead, cut in two with a wide canal filled with dark rushing water, and the businesses that line either side of it. Broken or boarded windows, smashed open doors, and colorful graffiti reinforces the wealth of vagabonds that roamed. Darkened alleys between shops led into deeper parts of the slums, which would be the bull beasts haven should one of the Holy Order see his hulking form cautiously stalking through the night.
From his understanding, the citizens of La Citta Migliore had purged a deep rooted pirate infestation, with the docks as their staging point. It had by now been repaired, but the stench of the dead still reek above the tinge of damp wood. While never a stargazer, the bull beast couldn't help but notice a thin ray cast down from the ether above, and into the water between two docked ships. It takes the blink of an eye to rid him of the illusion, but the water was still reassuringly real. The bull beasts red eyes flash at the moving figure deep below, which caused a subtle ripple to spread above it's expanse.
On his hands and knees, the bull beast lowers his head towards the acrid smelling liquid, just close enough to kiss it. That diminutive figure he stared at shifts, getting closer, growing with the uneasy feeling of deja vu turning the bull beasts stomach into a knot. Nerves were set alight at the blinding splash stinging his eyes, and an overpowering grip digging into and tugging at the back of the bull beasts neck. The man's voice was familiar, beset with rugged calm masking obvious fury. The bull beast thrashed, but this man was at least equal to his size to hold him so rigidly, keeping his muzzle and eyes under the water, but leaving his ears above.
“Ya died regrettin' evry' second. You got used by a whore.”
The bull beasts right fist reels back, soaring into the water to wildly connect with this things rib. Even if the bull wanted to open his eyes in the polluted water, he wouldn't see a thing in murky darkness. Fingers that dug into the back of his neck leaves something on whatever it touched, like a stain on old furniture, familiar, but unwelcome.
“None of them 'friends' even shed a tear for ya! Pathetic..”
Radmus is drowning! What should he do?
A) Struggle! Get out of there!
B ) It's not like he can die twice forever. Listen to him.
C) You suggest!
From his understanding, the citizens of La Citta Migliore had purged a deep rooted pirate infestation, with the docks as their staging point. It had by now been repaired, but the stench of the dead still reek above the tinge of damp wood. While never a stargazer, the bull beast couldn't help but notice a thin ray cast down from the ether above, and into the water between two docked ships. It takes the blink of an eye to rid him of the illusion, but the water was still reassuringly real. The bull beasts red eyes flash at the moving figure deep below, which caused a subtle ripple to spread above it's expanse.
On his hands and knees, the bull beast lowers his head towards the acrid smelling liquid, just close enough to kiss it. That diminutive figure he stared at shifts, getting closer, growing with the uneasy feeling of deja vu turning the bull beasts stomach into a knot. Nerves were set alight at the blinding splash stinging his eyes, and an overpowering grip digging into and tugging at the back of the bull beasts neck. The man's voice was familiar, beset with rugged calm masking obvious fury. The bull beast thrashed, but this man was at least equal to his size to hold him so rigidly, keeping his muzzle and eyes under the water, but leaving his ears above.
“Ya died regrettin' evry' second. You got used by a whore.”
The bull beasts right fist reels back, soaring into the water to wildly connect with this things rib. Even if the bull wanted to open his eyes in the polluted water, he wouldn't see a thing in murky darkness. Fingers that dug into the back of his neck leaves something on whatever it touched, like a stain on old furniture, familiar, but unwelcome.
“None of them 'friends' even shed a tear for ya! Pathetic..”
Radmus is drowning! What should he do?
A) Struggle! Get out of there!
B ) It's not like he can die twice forever. Listen to him.
C) You suggest!
Post snipped! What I threw in was too dense, too verbose, and a little hard to read.
Thanks a lot for the feedback, and I hope my edits change this for the better!
Thanks a lot for the feedback, and I hope my edits change this for the better!
[This is a neat idea! Goodluck with it Radmus!]
Gonna go ahead and roll to see what happens next~ One is A, 2 is B.
I'll get the next part worked on in the next two days.
And
Scarlet
I'll get the next part worked on in the next two days.
And
Scarlet
rolled 1d2 and got 2
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