Daylight Fantasy
math ain't real but these tears sure are
code by Nano
Prelude:
“Art is everywhere, don’t you think?”
A person dressed in black spoke as you woke up. It took a while for you to come to your senses before noticing you being tied up in a chair in front of their desk. The room was dark, the only light source shone on the person’s desk.
“Anything can be an art form, from the realms of reality to the imaginary and mental world. As long as you can capture the beauty, tales and meaning it entails, wouldn’t that make you an artist, no matter your medium?”
You don’t remember anything that led you to this situation. Come to think of it, you don’t remember anything at all. A piece of blank paper and a pen lie in front of you. You don’t know what the person is going to use it for but for now, it lays empty on their desk. It seems like you have no choice but to listen to this person.
“Someone like you has some serious issues, y’know? Being someone whose descendant is from the legendary prophecies, you sure are a reckless individual. There are 11 others just like you. Being such hero artists in your prophecies, I was expecting your bunch would be much tougher than this.”
You have no idea what they're talking about, are you truly part of a prophecy? If so, which one? The details were unclear as the possibilities ran in your head.
“With everything outside in ruin, I could use your help, y’know. An artist like you should know how to make everything turn into a work of art…right? I’ll make you a deal; join me and I'll help you regain your true potential.”
The piece of paper slowly revealed its content when they spoke their last word, like it was a stone tossed into the water, rippling out. A line was drawn on the bottom, where you're supposed to put your signature. The straps tying your arms have come loose, as it was luring you to the paper. No matter your reason, your hand reaches for the pen, and without thinking, you write your name on the paper.
Overview
Over a millennia ago, the world was created by the creator gods and goddesses. The gods took little to no time to create a pristine environment, so it was left in rumble. Perhaps it was because they cared little about the world, or perhaps they were at their doom. Either way, the magic in the world and the humans living there learned how to work together like companions. The humans cared little about the ugliness of the world around them, as long as it was useful for their survival, it was all that was needed.
However, twelve were unsatisfied with this. Yes, this was technically all they needed, but where is the beauty in that? Everywhere they can set their eyes on were only the mess left by the creator gods and goddesses. So, with an iron fist, the first member arose from the shadows, creating the magnificent Architecture with the rubble the gods and goddesses left them. And like that, the prophecy started. Member by member, the prophecy started to grow to remake the world the gods left them, refusing to give up until the world was up to standard.
The Prophecy lived for a long time, their lives prolonged the average human lifespan. They were remarked as the legends who rebuilt the world from the desperate times they grew up in and remodelled it for humanity. The Prophecy and humanity lived side by side until the last stage of their remodelling of society. The creator gods and goddesses had struck them of their power, The Prophecy’s life was slowly withering away as they battled. However, their founder wasn’t going to let his group’s life get wasted just because the gods were against them. So, with their final use of magic, they cast a reincarnation spell on all of The Prophecy.
It was a thousand years ago since the death of The Prophecy and now, the reincarnation spell that the founder cast has begun to take its effect, their spirits being cast back onto this earth to challenge the gods once again and revive their unfinished work.
The world had changed in the thousand years The Prophecy had died. For one, the world is now called Vivamus, “we will live” in Latin. Humanity has used some of The Prophecy’s knowledge to branch out their civilization. While The Prophecy was largely forgotten, the impact on society is clear.
Each of The Prophecy’s souls had been properly reincarnated, living a “normal” life with absolutely no memories of their past. Normal, until a team of criminals caused chaos upon the lands. It wasn’t anything huge, but it was enough for the reincarnated Prophecy to fall into the hands of the criminals. When each woke up, a black-dressed investigator was the first thing that greeted them and got them to sign a contract. A contract for the reincarnated Prophecy to be under wing in exchange for bringing back old memories and the continuation of their efforts.
Roles:
The Sculpturist is the twelfth and last member of the prophecy and is the most mysterious of the bunch. No one has seen what they’d actually look like other than The Prophecy, but even they don’t know much about The Sculpturist. Their aloof nature and mysterious sculptures cause speculations about their character.
Rules:
1. All OOC will be on Discord. Please comment your interest in this thread and I'll DM you the link to the server.
2. If you are going to be away for an extended period, please let me know so I can make adjustments.
3. Please let me know if you're under or over 18. I'm not against rp-ing with minors but I want to be mindful of some topics.
4. Building off of that, I'll try to avoid sensitive topics that might trigger some people.
5. Contributing to the plot is a must!
6. I don't expect a lot in terms of writing but try to have over 2-3 paragraphs when posting.
7. Don't drag any irl drama/problems into the RP, please!
Vivamus, Moriendum Est:
Let us live since we must die. The never-ending cycle of life and time hasn't been questioned for centuries. Birth and Death, Birth and Death, Birth and Death, and the cycle keeps turning. But for some reason, these... people defy this cycle, they were Birthed but they managed to outlive even Death. Even if they all died because of the Celestial's judgement, their soul still reincarnated, breaking this cycle. Such a thing is impossible, I must investigate further.
“Art is everywhere, don’t you think?”
A person dressed in black spoke as you woke up. It took a while for you to come to your senses before noticing you being tied up in a chair in front of their desk. The room was dark, the only light source shone on the person’s desk.
“Anything can be an art form, from the realms of reality to the imaginary and mental world. As long as you can capture the beauty, tales and meaning it entails, wouldn’t that make you an artist, no matter your medium?”
You don’t remember anything that led you to this situation. Come to think of it, you don’t remember anything at all. A piece of blank paper and a pen lie in front of you. You don’t know what the person is going to use it for but for now, it lays empty on their desk. It seems like you have no choice but to listen to this person.
“Someone like you has some serious issues, y’know? Being someone whose descendant is from the legendary prophecies, you sure are a reckless individual. There are 11 others just like you. Being such hero artists in your prophecies, I was expecting your bunch would be much tougher than this.”
You have no idea what they're talking about, are you truly part of a prophecy? If so, which one? The details were unclear as the possibilities ran in your head.
“With everything outside in ruin, I could use your help, y’know. An artist like you should know how to make everything turn into a work of art…right? I’ll make you a deal; join me and I'll help you regain your true potential.”
The piece of paper slowly revealed its content when they spoke their last word, like it was a stone tossed into the water, rippling out. A line was drawn on the bottom, where you're supposed to put your signature. The straps tying your arms have come loose, as it was luring you to the paper. No matter your reason, your hand reaches for the pen, and without thinking, you write your name on the paper.
Overview
Over a millennia ago, the world was created by the creator gods and goddesses. The gods took little to no time to create a pristine environment, so it was left in rumble. Perhaps it was because they cared little about the world, or perhaps they were at their doom. Either way, the magic in the world and the humans living there learned how to work together like companions. The humans cared little about the ugliness of the world around them, as long as it was useful for their survival, it was all that was needed.
However, twelve were unsatisfied with this. Yes, this was technically all they needed, but where is the beauty in that? Everywhere they can set their eyes on were only the mess left by the creator gods and goddesses. So, with an iron fist, the first member arose from the shadows, creating the magnificent Architecture with the rubble the gods and goddesses left them. And like that, the prophecy started. Member by member, the prophecy started to grow to remake the world the gods left them, refusing to give up until the world was up to standard.
The Prophecy lived for a long time, their lives prolonged the average human lifespan. They were remarked as the legends who rebuilt the world from the desperate times they grew up in and remodelled it for humanity. The Prophecy and humanity lived side by side until the last stage of their remodelling of society. The creator gods and goddesses had struck them of their power, The Prophecy’s life was slowly withering away as they battled. However, their founder wasn’t going to let his group’s life get wasted just because the gods were against them. So, with their final use of magic, they cast a reincarnation spell on all of The Prophecy.
It was a thousand years ago since the death of The Prophecy and now, the reincarnation spell that the founder cast has begun to take its effect, their spirits being cast back onto this earth to challenge the gods once again and revive their unfinished work.
The world had changed in the thousand years The Prophecy had died. For one, the world is now called Vivamus, “we will live” in Latin. Humanity has used some of The Prophecy’s knowledge to branch out their civilization. While The Prophecy was largely forgotten, the impact on society is clear.
Each of The Prophecy’s souls had been properly reincarnated, living a “normal” life with absolutely no memories of their past. Normal, until a team of criminals caused chaos upon the lands. It wasn’t anything huge, but it was enough for the reincarnated Prophecy to fall into the hands of the criminals. When each woke up, a black-dressed investigator was the first thing that greeted them and got them to sign a contract. A contract for the reincarnated Prophecy to be under wing in exchange for bringing back old memories and the continuation of their efforts.
Roles:
- The Architect -
- The Actor -
- The Cook -
- The Fashion Stylist -
- The Filmmaker -
- The Literaturist -
- The Musician -
- The Painter -
- The Calligrapher -
- The Photographer -
- The Singer -
- The Sculpturist -
The Sculpturist is the twelfth and last member of the prophecy and is the most mysterious of the bunch. No one has seen what they’d actually look like other than The Prophecy, but even they don’t know much about The Sculpturist. Their aloof nature and mysterious sculptures cause speculations about their character.
Rules:
1. All OOC will be on Discord. Please comment your interest in this thread and I'll DM you the link to the server.
2. If you are going to be away for an extended period, please let me know so I can make adjustments.
3. Please let me know if you're under or over 18. I'm not against rp-ing with minors but I want to be mindful of some topics.
4. Building off of that, I'll try to avoid sensitive topics that might trigger some people.
5. Contributing to the plot is a must!
6. I don't expect a lot in terms of writing but try to have over 2-3 paragraphs when posting.
7. Don't drag any irl drama/problems into the RP, please!
Vivamus, Moriendum Est:
Let us live since we must die. The never-ending cycle of life and time hasn't been questioned for centuries. Birth and Death, Birth and Death, Birth and Death, and the cycle keeps turning. But for some reason, these... people defy this cycle, they were Birthed but they managed to outlive even Death. Even if they all died because of the Celestial's judgement, their soul still reincarnated, breaking this cycle. Such a thing is impossible, I must investigate further.
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