An Experiment in Imagination
Feb 16, 2012 7:44:07 GMT -6
Post by Grayson on Feb 16, 2012 7:44:07 GMT -6
So here I am. Bored out of my mind and really wanting to write something outside the genres of the RP sites I'm on. Finding a new site is tedious and I really don't want to devote myself to another site right now anyway. SO. What I'm gonna do is write something here instead.
At the time of writing this sentence, I have no clue what the below story will be like. I am going into this with no plan and I'll be making up everything, the world, the laws, the characters, the plot, the tone, the theme, EVERYTHING as I go. Just pure writing abandon to get me out of boredom.
Here we go.
----------
"That's it?" carried the hushed tone of a thin man crouched in a dark alley. He scratched his chin, which was covered in thick stubble along with the rest of his jaw, and raised an eyebrow on his angular face. The steam from the various magi-heaters along the buildings that bordered the alley filled the frozen air, making the woman he spoke with difficult to see. He figured he was equally obstructed from her view by the haze. What the man was able to make out, however, was a pair of yellow dots that were the woman's pupils that pierced the thick steam. It was unnerving, but the man wasn't used to dealing with non-humans yet.
"Take it or leave it, human. I'm the only miasma dealer in the inner city. If you want some then you buy from me. Of course, you could just brave the outer ring." the orc growled. Her green skin, browning with age, was made visible as some of the steam cleared. As she craned her neck closer, the large fangs sprouting from her lower jaw - which was jutted out past the rest of her visage - became visible. The man jumped at the she-orc's notion. Mostly from being startled by her appearance, but also from the thought of attempting to survive the outer city. He was lucky enough to find a cheap apartment inside the walls a month back. The human vowed never to return to that place again.
"No! I... I'll take it." he produced a handful of coins from the pocket of his blue jeans and exchanged it for a small vial, smaller than he would have liked. Suspended in the middle of the bulbous portion of the vial was a swirling sphere of lavender gas no larger than the man's fingerprint. Grumbling, the man turned away from the orc and walked out of the alley.
The streets in the inner city were definitely busier than they were in the outer city. Not to mention the floating billboards that filled the space above the tall buildings. The man scoffed at one. A campaign ad for a lord in the running for prime minister. An elf in a business suit graced the screen with the words 'A VOTE FOR DORDANEL IS A VOTE FOR PROSPERITY' emblazoned in gold.
"Prosperity my ass..." the sullen man mumbled to himself. He raised the vial to the billboard, "To politicians! May every last one of you bastards die in a fire."
With that, he brought the vial to his nose and uncorked it, inhaling sharply after. The purple haze was sucked into his lungs and out came a black smoke from his mouth as he exhaled. Suddenly he felt light on his feet and so dizzy the street began to spin. The buildings melded together and the passing vehicles suddenly looked much farther away than they were previously. So far away that he could venture into the street without any danger. The man stumbled around on the black pavement, singing a song he made up along the way. He was so preoccupied with his merriment that he didn't notice the blaring horn of the car before it slammed into him.
The next thing the man knew, he was awake in a hospital bed.
At the time of writing this sentence, I have no clue what the below story will be like. I am going into this with no plan and I'll be making up everything, the world, the laws, the characters, the plot, the tone, the theme, EVERYTHING as I go. Just pure writing abandon to get me out of boredom.
Here we go.
----------
"That's it?" carried the hushed tone of a thin man crouched in a dark alley. He scratched his chin, which was covered in thick stubble along with the rest of his jaw, and raised an eyebrow on his angular face. The steam from the various magi-heaters along the buildings that bordered the alley filled the frozen air, making the woman he spoke with difficult to see. He figured he was equally obstructed from her view by the haze. What the man was able to make out, however, was a pair of yellow dots that were the woman's pupils that pierced the thick steam. It was unnerving, but the man wasn't used to dealing with non-humans yet.
"Take it or leave it, human. I'm the only miasma dealer in the inner city. If you want some then you buy from me. Of course, you could just brave the outer ring." the orc growled. Her green skin, browning with age, was made visible as some of the steam cleared. As she craned her neck closer, the large fangs sprouting from her lower jaw - which was jutted out past the rest of her visage - became visible. The man jumped at the she-orc's notion. Mostly from being startled by her appearance, but also from the thought of attempting to survive the outer city. He was lucky enough to find a cheap apartment inside the walls a month back. The human vowed never to return to that place again.
"No! I... I'll take it." he produced a handful of coins from the pocket of his blue jeans and exchanged it for a small vial, smaller than he would have liked. Suspended in the middle of the bulbous portion of the vial was a swirling sphere of lavender gas no larger than the man's fingerprint. Grumbling, the man turned away from the orc and walked out of the alley.
The streets in the inner city were definitely busier than they were in the outer city. Not to mention the floating billboards that filled the space above the tall buildings. The man scoffed at one. A campaign ad for a lord in the running for prime minister. An elf in a business suit graced the screen with the words 'A VOTE FOR DORDANEL IS A VOTE FOR PROSPERITY' emblazoned in gold.
"Prosperity my ass..." the sullen man mumbled to himself. He raised the vial to the billboard, "To politicians! May every last one of you bastards die in a fire."
With that, he brought the vial to his nose and uncorked it, inhaling sharply after. The purple haze was sucked into his lungs and out came a black smoke from his mouth as he exhaled. Suddenly he felt light on his feet and so dizzy the street began to spin. The buildings melded together and the passing vehicles suddenly looked much farther away than they were previously. So far away that he could venture into the street without any danger. The man stumbled around on the black pavement, singing a song he made up along the way. He was so preoccupied with his merriment that he didn't notice the blaring horn of the car before it slammed into him.
The next thing the man knew, he was awake in a hospital bed.
