No Goblins Allowed :: Imagine a Room

Imagine a Room

In a time that may be or may not be, in a place that is or is not, in a world that is or will be or never was, there was a room. This room had one door, and four walls, a floor and a ceiling. In these ways, the room was like many others. In other ways, it was nothing like them. Some rooms are too small or too big, some rooms are too crowded or too sparse, and some rooms are too cold or too warm. But this room was perfect, because this was a very special room to a very special little girl.

The walls of the room were bright and cheerful. The wall with the door was colored yellow, and bore a pattern of different fruits along vertical lines of green vines. There were bright red apples, vibrant oranges, clusters of grapes both green and purple, and even occasional large watermelons, the girl’s favorite. The wall to the left of that was colored pink, and was decorated with pictures of happy kittens and bunnies in diagonal lines. Opposite this wall and to the right of the door was a wall of light green covered in horizontal lines of pictures of baby ducks and birds. The fourth wall, opposite the door, was papered in sky blue, with dozens of multicolored balloons that stuck out a tiny bit from the wall.

On this fourth wall, there was a window to the outside, but the little girl never looked out this window. She didn’t need to. Nearly everything she loved and nearly everything she had ever wanted was right here in her very special room. The room was full, but not cluttered. In one corner, there was her bed, with a simple wooden headboard painted white, a bright floral pattern pillow, and a blanket with rainbow colors. Beside that was a fancy wooden dresser with seven drawers, where she kept all of her pretty outfits, although the bottommost drawer was a home for her favorite dolls when she wasn’t playing with them.

In this room, she also had a tiny desk with paper and paints for her to draw. She had a chest of toys and games with a golden latch that could close tight but never lock. There were two different bookcases filled with storybooks and picture books, and the little girl never seemed to run out of things to read. At the end of her bed, she had a beautifully painted rocking horse that she was still small enough to ride. Across the room from the rocking horse was a low table, and on that table was her book of Friends, so that she could always see her best friends whenever she wanted to.

In the far corner, opposite her bed, there was a cage for her pets. The cage was nearly as big as she was, so that they would always have enough room to move around and play with each other when the girl wasn’t playing with them. Her favorite pet changed almost daily. Sometimes it was the adorable baby meepling she had named Pufftail. Other times, it was the little Segovian pony she called Pocket. But today, it was a decided tie between the three baby bunny-kittens she had just recently gotten. They were the cutest little things she had ever seen! They looked just like kittens, apart from the irresistible bunny ears, hind legs and puffy tail. One was black, one was white, and one was grey, and so she had named them Ash, Snow and Raindrop. She loved them.

The little girl had been playing with the little bunny-kittens all morning, and she was ready for something new. She was sitting with her legs folded beneath her in the center of her room, holding her favorite doll. It had been created in the image of Winkaandi, the famous dark-haired, dark-skinned warrior woman of Kalundu, but the little girl just called her Miss Winky, on account of the similar name and the doll’s missing eye. The little girl and Miss Winky were playing, and the girl was trying to decide whether she should invite Lord Dimplechin. Lord Dimplechin was the little girl’s only male doll, and he had an interesting relationship with Miss Winky. At times, they were happily married, and perhaps even the parents of some of her other dolls. Other times, he was courting her, or she him. Still other occasions saw them as bitter rivals. Just yesterday, Miss Winky had managed to save Lord Dimplechin from a scary sea serpent. It was all very exciting.

Before the little girl could decide, she changed her mind about playing with Miss Winky at all, and instead walked over to the small table. She smiled widely as she laid her excited hands on her Book of Friends. She opened the book to see the first portrait, her best friend. The portrait was of a little brown-haired girl, about the same age as she was, with smile eyes and a slightly crooked nose. Her name was Beka, and the little girl hadn’t played with her in a few days, and missed her friend. She didn’t even bother flipping the pages any further. She wanted to play with Beka.

So the little girl laid her hands on the portrait of her friend in the book, and a surge of light burst forth that filled the special room. Then the light focused itself on a spot not far from the little girl, and she took a deep breath and counted to ten. When she reached ten, the light died down, and Beka was standing there, smiling back widely at her friend. The two girls screamed wildly in excitement and hugged one another, and then went about the business of playing. The ran to the toy chest first, and they played with a few of the games before switching to racing the pair of clockwork toy chariots the little girl had. The little girl won the first three races, and was starting to feel bad for her friend, but then Beka won the next four, and both girls were happy.

They had been playing with the little girl’s dolls for a while, with her playing with Miss Winky and Beka puppeteering Lord Dimplechin, when it was time for Beka to go home. The two girls hugged again and said their goodbyes. The little girl promised Beka she would see her soon, and that maybe she could get a bunch of her friends over tomorrow for a pretend tea party. She could invite their short, redheaded friend, that boy with the puffy cheeks, and maybe that tall gangly girl with the gap in her teeth. Beka seemed to like the idea, and waved goodbye as she vanished back into the Book of Friends. The little girl sighed contentedly. That was fun.

She quickly walked around the room again, putting away all of her toys neatly in the toy chest or in the dresser, wherever they belonged. She loved Beka, but the other girl could be a little messy, which was fine while she was here, but the little girl wanted to clean up afterward. She walked over to her pet cage and fed them quickly, petting Pufftail the meepling for a few minutes to hear its adorable coo. She took Raindrop out of the cage for a while, letting the tiny bunny-kitten scamper around the floor and play with the young girl’s feet. Finally, the worried purring of Ash and Snow told the little girl that they missed their brother, and so she scooped Raindrop up and placed him gently back in the cage with the others. Her eyes and smile were both wide as she walked over to the rocking horse and climbed on to ride for a while.

The little girl had only been playing on her rocking horse for a few minutes when the door opened slowly. The little girl looked up, her sweet, angelic face expectant, although she couldn’t see who was in the doorway yet.

“Daddy?” She asked in an innocent, hopeful tone.

Who is at the Door?

Erik Sylvaine

Clade

“No, little one. I am not your father.” Clade said, his large head turning to the side to study the little girl.

The girl continued to rock on her horse, although she slowed slightly, studying the stranger up and down. He was a strange looking person, like nothing she had ever seen, but somehow, she wasn’t afraid.

“Who are you?” she asked with a sweet smile.

“I am Clade!” The large troll said as the little girl noticed a rumbling all around her. “Do not be afraid of me.”

“I’m not,” she said simply, noticing one of her bookshelves was shaking and dropping some of its books. “Are you doing that? You’ll make a mess.”

Clade made an expression that might have been a smile, although it was difficult to tell for sure. “A mess. Yes, little one. I suppose I shall make a mess.”

The little girl frowned, and stopped her rocking. “I don’t like messes.”

“Nor do I,” Clade said, shaking his head. “But some messes are unavoidable. Some were created by those too weak to see the mess they have made.”

The little girl considered this, but couldn’t make sense of it. “What do you mean?”

“There is a storm coming, little one. There are few, too few, who will be strong enough to weather it. I believe you possess such strength.”

“Thanks!” She said enthusiastically.

The rumbling grew worse, and her bookcase fell over completely. A moment later, a massive vine burst through the wall with the door, just beside where Clade was standing. The troll looked over in that direction. “Life will no longer be easy, little one. You must learn to use your strength. You must show others how. You must survive.”

Now the little girl was beginning to get scared, but she didn’t say so. Somehow, she knew it was important not to. “I will,” she ventured.

“Very well,” Clade said as her roof was pulled away by the trees sprouting up through what had been her home. “Remember always that only the strong will survive the storm.”

And with that, Clade ‘walked away, leaving the little girl in the remnants of her special room, praying she would be strong enough to carry on.

The End

Ellia the Endbringer

Kirsh of the Flats

Kirsh ruffled his feathers as the little girl uttered the word. Somehow, from her, that single word was more chilling than any he had heard before. She was sitting against the wall in a small, white room, rocking back and forth, her arms restrained behind her back. Kirsh couldn’t bring himself to answer the child, but instead looked to his right, where the Sikhosian mind-healer was standing. The other man, a human named Frideth, was shaking his head sympathetically.

“She’s been that way since she was brought here,” the Sikhosian said.

“You can’t just keep her shackled like that,” Kirsh whispered back in a quiet yet harsh tone. “It’s barbaric!”

“Barbaric?” Frideth asked, incredulous. “Most people in this world would rather see her destroyed, Kirsh. Don’t forget that when we found this sweet little girl, she was surrounded by the bodies of three of her friends, and she was dancing around like she were at a party.”

“She’s a child!” Kirsh insisted. “And she is clearly not well. I thought you were a healer!”

Frideth laid a hand on Kirsh’s wing, who shook it off. “I am a healer, Kirsh, and we are doing everything we can for that little girl. But her mind is shattered. It’s hard enough piecing together what happened in that house, let alone trying to piece together whatever world she’s created in her head because of it. It takes time, Kirsh, and the healing is never easy.”

“But the restraints…”

“Often while healing the mind, there comes a time when the patient struggles, often violently. Remember, Kirsh, she’s created some kind of a protective world, and before we can bring her back to this one, we need to tear that one down. The mind, and by extension the patient, only sees the destruction. We’re the enemy, as far as she knows. Until we can show her the truth, she’s the biggest threat to herself.”

Kirsh fluttered his wings again. He thought back to his time with Asher, and the work he still had to learn to do with Eureda, and the perhaps even larger mountain he had to climb with Renn Winmoore. There was so much to do, and he had so very much to learn. Kirsh bobbed his neck a few times before speaking.

“Do you know how to get in? To her mind, I mean.”

Frideth sighed. “We have some techniques, but they all take time, and not all of them work on everyone. And someone like this, completely cut off from the real world…” he trailed off, allowing a tone of hopelessness to enter his voice. Then he continued, with renewed hope. “But we’ve gotten through to similar patients before.”

“Daddy?” The girl within called, no longer even looking toward the door.

Kirsh brushed a single tear away from his aven eye as he closed the door and turned back toward Frideth. “Can you teach me?”

The End

Raiker Venn

The poet swallowed air, his voice almost catching in his throat as a single tear threatened his eye.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he said to his daughter. “It is me.”

“I’ve missed you, Daddy!”

“I have missed you, too. Did you have a good day today?”

“Yeah!” the little girl said excitedly, her rocking movement increasing in her excitement. “I played with Raindrop, and I petted Pufftail, and Miss Winky married Lord Dimplechin again, oh, and Beka came over! We’re gonna have a tea party tomorrow!”

Raiker Venn sniffled as his throat closed up again. “That sounds like fun, pumpkin. I am so glad you are happy.”

“I am, Daddy!”

“Good,” he said with a genuine smile. “Time for bed, though, angel. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy! Goodnight!” She immediately climbed off her rocking horse and scrambled into her bed, smiling wildly. She only took a moment to get settled in, then made a show of rubbing her eyes, as though exhausted. She looked back toward the door, still grinning. “I love you, Daddy.”

Raiker could not stop his tears now, but he managed to hide them from his daughter. “I love you, too.”

Raiker closed the door, allowing his hand to rest gently on the wood as it latched. He closed his eyes tightly for a long time. Finally he opened them, a familiar rage burning in his eyes. “I swear, Muffin, I swear I will protect you from the real world. From the real me.”

Raiker Venn turned around and walked away. From the outside, the special room was little more than a large box. All around it was darkness and chaos. An eternal storm raged on this plane, raining acid and blood and death on the landscape. Nightmares of inconceivable horror stalked the ground, and light existed only to cast shadows in which those terrors to hide. But anything that came to close to that single, beautiful room was destroyed, brutally. Raiker Venn saw to that. His daughter would have whatever she needed, and whatever she wanted. She would have safety, and toys, and friends, and a world that was eternally safe throughout a life that was eternally young. Raiker grasped his ornate cane with whitened knuckles. As long as he lived, that little girl would never know the sting of tragedy.

The End

It took me a bit to remember who Erik was and then I want awwwww.

You really did capture each character well. Clade's bizarre gentleness as he wrecks everything... Kirsh's ethical doubts and desire to heal even perhaps beyond his own ability... Ellia's casual abusive cruelty and bitterness... Erik's simple goodness... and Raiker's totally twisted petulance here warped into something almost noble.

I feel like maybe with some of the established characters we could make room in the archives for shorter character pieces that just show interactions like this, albeit in a more canonical context... There's something really engaging about short character stuff.

Author:	RavenoftheBlack [ Thu Aug 14, 2014 9:58 pm ]
Post subject:	Imagine a Room
So, I threw this together today as a combination of a number of suggestions, requests, and just experiments that I have received and/or wanted to try. Essentially, this is an experiment in alternate endings. I've told a few people of a creative writing class I took in college wherein I wrote a story that was set up to have multiple endings. My plan was to write ten different ends, keeping everything the same except the last page, which I would give a different one to each person in class without telling them anything was different. I did not end up doing it, but I've always liked the premise. So today, I wrote a story. This is also in response to something Lord Luna said a while ago about someone creating a "cute" story. So, for my experiment, I have written a cute story about an adorable little girl. Now, in this story, near the end, a door opens, and someone enters. At that point, You the Reader gets to choose who that someone is! (Out of five choices, so far.) This is not and never will be canon! I should be upfront about the fact that I have stolen four different people's M:EM characters without asking them. I feel pretty proud bad about that, but as I said, this is just an experiment, and is not canon, as emphatically stated above. That being said, if you don't like my use of your character, I apologize, and I will gladly remove it if you want me to. Anyway, please enjoy my cute story with five alternate endings of your choice! (And, because of the nature of this forum, probably your character!) Imagine a Room Imagine a Room In a time that may be or may not be, in a place that is or is not, in a world that is or will be or never was, there was a room. This room had one door, and four walls, a floor and a ceiling. In these ways, the room was like many others. In other ways, it was nothing like them. Some rooms are too small or too big, some rooms are too crowded or too sparse, and some rooms are too cold or too warm. But this room was perfect, because this was a very special room to a very special little girl. The walls of the room were bright and cheerful. The wall with the door was colored yellow, and bore a pattern of different fruits along vertical lines of green vines. There were bright red apples, vibrant oranges, clusters of grapes both green and purple, and even occasional large watermelons, the girl’s favorite. The wall to the left of that was colored pink, and was decorated with pictures of happy kittens and bunnies in diagonal lines. Opposite this wall and to the right of the door was a wall of light green covered in horizontal lines of pictures of baby ducks and birds. The fourth wall, opposite the door, was papered in sky blue, with dozens of multicolored balloons that stuck out a tiny bit from the wall. On this fourth wall, there was a window to the outside, but the little girl never looked out this window. She didn’t need to. Nearly everything she loved and nearly everything she had ever wanted was right here in her very special room. The room was full, but not cluttered. In one corner, there was her bed, with a simple wooden headboard painted white, a bright floral pattern pillow, and a blanket with rainbow colors. Beside that was a fancy wooden dresser with seven drawers, where she kept all of her pretty outfits, although the bottommost drawer was a home for her favorite dolls when she wasn’t playing with them. In this room, she also had a tiny desk with paper and paints for her to draw. She had a chest of toys and games with a golden latch that could close tight but never lock. There were two different bookcases filled with storybooks and picture books, and the little girl never seemed to run out of things to read. At the end of her bed, she had a beautifully painted rocking horse that she was still small enough to ride. Across the room from the rocking horse was a low table, and on that table was her book of Friends, so that she could always see her best friends whenever she wanted to. In the far corner, opposite her bed, there was a cage for her pets. The cage was nearly as big as she was, so that they would always have enough room to move around and play with each other when the girl wasn’t playing with them. Her favorite pet changed almost daily. Sometimes it was the adorable baby meepling she had named Pufftail. Other times, it was the little Segovian pony she called Pocket. But today, it was a decided tie between the three baby bunny-kittens she had just recently gotten. They were the cutest little things she had ever seen! They looked just like kittens, apart from the irresistible bunny ears, hind legs and puffy tail. One was black, one was white, and one was grey, and so she had named them Ash, Snow and Raindrop. She loved them. The little girl had been playing with the little bunny-kittens all morning, and she was ready for something new. She was sitting with her legs folded beneath her in the center of her room, holding her favorite doll. It had been created in the image of Winkaandi, the famous dark-haired, dark-skinned warrior woman of Kalundu, but the little girl just called her Miss Winky, on account of the similar name and the doll’s missing eye. The little girl and Miss Winky were playing, and the girl was trying to decide whether she should invite Lord Dimplechin. Lord Dimplechin was the little girl’s only male doll, and he had an interesting relationship with Miss Winky. At times, they were happily married, and perhaps even the parents of some of her other dolls. Other times, he was courting her, or she him. Still other occasions saw them as bitter rivals. Just yesterday, Miss Winky had managed to save Lord Dimplechin from a scary sea serpent. It was all very exciting. Before the little girl could decide, she changed her mind about playing with Miss Winky at all, and instead walked over to the small table. She smiled widely as she laid her excited hands on her Book of Friends. She opened the book to see the first portrait, her best friend. The portrait was of a little brown-haired girl, about the same age as she was, with smile eyes and a slightly crooked nose. Her name was Beka, and the little girl hadn’t played with her in a few days, and missed her friend. She didn’t even bother flipping the pages any further. She wanted to play with Beka. So the little girl laid her hands on the portrait of her friend in the book, and a surge of light burst forth that filled the special room. Then the light focused itself on a spot not far from the little girl, and she took a deep breath and counted to ten. When she reached ten, the light died down, and Beka was standing there, smiling back widely at her friend. The two girls screamed wildly in excitement and hugged one another, and then went about the business of playing. The ran to the toy chest first, and they played with a few of the games before switching to racing the pair of clockwork toy chariots the little girl had. The little girl won the first three races, and was starting to feel bad for her friend, but then Beka won the next four, and both girls were happy. They had been playing with the little girl’s dolls for a while, with her playing with Miss Winky and Beka puppeteering Lord Dimplechin, when it was time for Beka to go home. The two girls hugged again and said their goodbyes. The little girl promised Beka she would see her soon, and that maybe she could get a bunch of her friends over tomorrow for a pretend tea party. She could invite their short, redheaded friend, that boy with the puffy cheeks, and maybe that tall gangly girl with the gap in her teeth. Beka seemed to like the idea, and waved goodbye as she vanished back into the Book of Friends. The little girl sighed contentedly. That was fun. She quickly walked around the room again, putting away all of her toys neatly in the toy chest or in the dresser, wherever they belonged. She loved Beka, but the other girl could be a little messy, which was fine while she was here, but the little girl wanted to clean up afterward. She walked over to her pet cage and fed them quickly, petting Pufftail the meepling for a few minutes to hear its adorable coo. She took Raindrop out of the cage for a while, letting the tiny bunny-kitten scamper around the floor and play with the young girl’s feet. Finally, the worried purring of Ash and Snow told the little girl that they missed their brother, and so she scooped Raindrop up and placed him gently back in the cage with the others. Her eyes and smile were both wide as she walked over to the rocking horse and climbed on to ride for a while. The little girl had only been playing on her rocking horse for a few minutes when the door opened slowly. The little girl looked up, her sweet, angelic face expectant, although she couldn’t see who was in the doorway yet. “Daddy?” She asked in an innocent, hopeful tone. Who is at the Door? Erik Sylvaine “Hey!” Erik said, excited to see his daughter finally looking healthy again. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” “I feel great, Daddy!” Erik moved into the room and gave his little girl a big hug. “I’m so happy!” “Me, too, Daddy. Thank you for everything!” “You’re welcome, sweety,” he said, looking around the room. “And you cleaned your room! What a big girl!” She giggled. “Do you think I’ll be able to go outside soon, Daddy? I wanna see Beka and the other kids for real!” Erik glanced over at the book of illusions he had given his daughter and smiled sadly. “I know it’s not like the real thing, princess, but we just wanted to make sure you were really well before you see your friends.” “And…” she prompted expectantly. Erik Sylvaine laughed at his little girl. She always was a clever one. “I think you’re completely, utterly, and totally well. If you’re a good girl, and you sleep tight tonight, I think you can go outside first thing tomorrow!” The sweet little girl beamed. “First thing?” “Well,” Erik backed off, which made the little girl frown, “maybe the first thing after breakfast!” The girl squeaked in glee and hugged her father one more time. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!” “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I love you.” “I love you too, Daddy!” The End Clade “No, little one. I am not your father.” Clade said, his large head turning to the side to study the little girl. The girl continued to rock on her horse, although she slowed slightly, studying the stranger up and down. He was a strange looking person, like nothing she had ever seen, but somehow, she wasn’t afraid. “Who are you?” she asked with a sweet smile. “I am Clade!” The large troll said as the little girl noticed a rumbling all around her. “Do not be afraid of me.” “I’m not,” she said simply, noticing one of her bookshelves was shaking and dropping some of its books. “Are you doing that? You’ll make a mess.” Clade made an expression that might have been a smile, although it was difficult to tell for sure. “A mess. Yes, little one. I suppose I shall make a mess.” The little girl frowned, and stopped her rocking. “I don’t like messes.” “Nor do I,” Clade said, shaking his head. “But some messes are unavoidable. Some were created by those too weak to see the mess they have made.” The little girl considered this, but couldn’t make sense of it. “What do you mean?” “There is a storm coming, little one. There are few, too few, who will be strong enough to weather it. I believe you possess such strength.” “Thanks!” She said enthusiastically. The rumbling grew worse, and her bookcase fell over completely. A moment later, a massive vine burst through the wall with the door, just beside where Clade was standing. The troll looked over in that direction. “Life will no longer be easy, little one. You must learn to use your strength. You must show others how. You must survive.” Now the little girl was beginning to get scared, but she didn’t say so. Somehow, she knew it was important not to. “I will,” she ventured. “Very well,” Clade said as her roof was pulled away by the trees sprouting up through what had been her home. “Remember always that only the strong will survive the storm.” And with that, Clade ‘walked away, leaving the little girl in the remnants of her special room, praying she would be strong enough to carry on. The End Ellia the Endbringer “You don’t have a daddy. If you can’t remember even that simple fact, what good will you ever be to me, Ilinda?” “I’m sorry, mommy,” the little girl said, trying not to cry. “Sometimes I just like pretending.” “Well, stop it,” Ellia spat. “I am a scientist. I deal in real life, in observable consequences. If you’re to be of any use to me, you must learn to do the same. Understand?” “Yes, mommy,” Ilinda said, bowing her little head. “Get some sleep,” Ellia added. “You need it.” The planeswalker closed the door hard, and Ilinda dejectedly climbed off her rocking horse and into bed. Suddenly, the things in that room didn’t seem to matter so much. Her dolls, her toys, even the adorable pets in the corner, all of it darkened for Ilinda then. She glared over at her Book of Friends, knowing she would not be having her tea party tomorrow, or perhaps ever again. Ilinda pulled the rainbow covers over her head and wept until she fell asleep. The End Kirsh of the Flats Kirsh ruffled his feathers as the little girl uttered the word. Somehow, from her, that single word was more chilling than any he had heard before. She was sitting against the wall in a small, white room, rocking back and forth, her arms restrained behind her back. Kirsh couldn’t bring himself to answer the child, but instead looked to his right, where the Sikhosian mind-healer was standing. The other man, a human named Frideth, was shaking his head sympathetically. “She’s been that way since she was brought here,” the Sikhosian said. “You can’t just keep her shackled like that,” Kirsh whispered back in a quiet yet harsh tone. “It’s barbaric!” “Barbaric?” Frideth asked, incredulous. “Most people in this world would rather see her destroyed, Kirsh. Don’t forget that when we found this sweet little girl, she was surrounded by the bodies of three of her friends, and she was dancing around like she were at a party.” “She’s a child!” Kirsh insisted. “And she is clearly not well. I thought you were a healer!” Frideth laid a hand on Kirsh’s wing, who shook it off. “I am a healer, Kirsh, and we are doing everything we can for that little girl. But her mind is shattered. It’s hard enough piecing together what happened in that house, let alone trying to piece together whatever world she’s created in her head because of it. It takes time, Kirsh, and the healing is never easy.” “But the restraints…” “Often while healing the mind, there comes a time when the patient struggles, often violently. Remember, Kirsh, she’s created some kind of a protective world, and before we can bring her back to this one, we need to tear that one down. The mind, and by extension the patient, only sees the destruction. We’re the enemy, as far as she knows. Until we can show her the truth, she’s the biggest threat to herself.” Kirsh fluttered his wings again. He thought back to his time with Asher, and the work he still had to learn to do with Eureda, and the perhaps even larger mountain he had to climb with Renn Winmoore. There was so much to do, and he had so very much to learn. Kirsh bobbed his neck a few times before speaking. “Do you know how to get in? To her mind, I mean.” Frideth sighed. “We have some techniques, but they all take time, and not all of them work on everyone. And someone like this, completely cut off from the real world…” he trailed off, allowing a tone of hopelessness to enter his voice. Then he continued, with renewed hope. “But we’ve gotten through to similar patients before.” “Daddy?” The girl within called, no longer even looking toward the door. Kirsh brushed a single tear away from his aven eye as he closed the door and turned back toward Frideth. “Can you teach me?” The End Raiker Venn The poet swallowed air, his voice almost catching in his throat as a single tear threatened his eye. “Yes, sweetheart,” he said to his daughter. “It is me.” “I’ve missed you, Daddy!” “I have missed you, too. Did you have a good day today?” “Yeah!” the little girl said excitedly, her rocking movement increasing in her excitement. “I played with Raindrop, and I petted Pufftail, and Miss Winky married Lord Dimplechin again, oh, and Beka came over! We’re gonna have a tea party tomorrow!” Raiker Venn sniffled as his throat closed up again. “That sounds like fun, pumpkin. I am so glad you are happy.” “I am, Daddy!” “Good,” he said with a genuine smile. “Time for bed, though, angel. Okay?” “Okay, Daddy! Goodnight!” She immediately climbed off her rocking horse and scrambled into her bed, smiling wildly. She only took a moment to get settled in, then made a show of rubbing her eyes, as though exhausted. She looked back toward the door, still grinning. “I love you, Daddy.” Raiker could not stop his tears now, but he managed to hide them from his daughter. “I love you, too.” Raiker closed the door, allowing his hand to rest gently on the wood as it latched. He closed his eyes tightly for a long time. Finally he opened them, a familiar rage burning in his eyes. “I swear, Muffin, I swear I will protect you from the real world. From the real me.” Raiker Venn turned around and walked away. From the outside, the special room was little more than a large box. All around it was darkness and chaos. An eternal storm raged on this plane, raining acid and blood and death on the landscape. Nightmares of inconceivable horror stalked the ground, and light existed only to cast shadows in which those terrors to hide. But anything that came to close to that single, beautiful room was destroyed, brutally. Raiker Venn saw to that. His daughter would have whatever she needed, and whatever she wanted. She would have safety, and toys, and friends, and a world that was eternally safe throughout a life that was eternally young. Raiker grasped his ornate cane with whitened knuckles. As long as he lived, that little girl would never know the sting of tragedy. The End

Author:	Arcades Sabboth [ Thu Aug 14, 2014 11:13 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
Weeiiirrrd.

Author:	chinkeeyong [ Fri Aug 15, 2014 3:01 am ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
I thought the story preamble was way too long, but the concept is neat.

Author:	RavenoftheBlack [ Fri Aug 15, 2014 4:14 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
Arcades Sabboth wrote: Weeiiirrrd. I'd like to plead guilty, and throw myself on the mercy of the court. chinkeeyong wrote: I thought the story preamble was way too long, but the concept is neat. Yeah, if this were something I really wanted to push, I'd probably pare it down a bit. But basically I just wanted to describe the world in detail before the endings. Thanks for reading!

Author:	RuwinReborn [ Fri Aug 15, 2014 4:30 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
Ha... You won't make me feel sympathy for Raiker Venn that easily, Raven! Not even... Not even a little bit! sniff I actually started from the bottom up, and I was all like "It's sort of weird that Clade's is the happiest so far". And then I got to the absolutely tooth-rotting, candy-coated, sugary fluff that was Erik and had to go brush my teeth. Hmm, actually... Are you some sort of impostor???? I'm not sure you would be capable of writing something to innocent. ...I've got my eye on you.

No Goblins Allowed http://862838.jrbdt8wd.asia/

Imagine a Room http://862838.jrbdt8wd.asia/viewtopic.php?f=19&t=5368	Page 1 of 2

Author:	Arcades Sabboth [ Fri Aug 15, 2014 4:34 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
I started with the Kirsh ending, thinking "Oh, he's the nicest out of the characters I recognize." D8

Author:	RavenoftheBlack [ Fri Aug 15, 2014 5:10 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
Originally, I was only going to include two, Kirsh and Raiker, in that order. My assumption was that people would think to themselves, Self, Raiker's ending is going to be horrible and disturbing. Let's read Kirsh's. Thus the sort of inversion of those two. But then I thought Clade would be perfect for this, and then Ellia seemed great. I added Erik because I did want one "good" ending, and he was about the only one I could think of. Also, I encourage others to feel free to write endings for this with other characters, if you wish. It's a fun little exercise in meaning shifts.

Author:	OrcishLibrarian [ Sun Aug 17, 2014 10:26 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
I'm sorry that it took me a while to get to this, Raven. But I'm glad I did - it's really, really wonderful. I think it's great to see these sorts of things which just play with the characters, and it has the typical Raven quality to it as well. More and more, I like the idea of having a non-canon subsection of the Archive for pieces like this.

Author:	Aaarrrgh [ Sun Aug 17, 2014 10:38 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
I loved this, and it serves as a good introduction to each character, which is useful for people who are bad at keeping up with reading stuff (that would be me, by the way). Also, I think you really captured Erik, which reminds me of the fact that I need to finish the story I started working on months ago...

Author:	RavenoftheBlack [ Sun Aug 17, 2014 10:54 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
OrcishLibrarian wrote: I'm sorry that it took me a while to get to this, Raven. But I'm glad I did - it's really, really wonderful. I think it's great to see these sorts of things which just play with the characters, and it has the typical Raven quality to it as well. More and more, I like the idea of having a non-canon subsection of the Archive for pieces like this. Glad you enjoyed it! I had fun writing it. Although, I will admit the cutesy stuff created a strange sort of expectation loop in my brain. It's like, okay, people are going to assume there's something sinister here. But there IS something sinister here. But I don't want there to be anything sinister here, at least in the first section. But people are going to assume it, because it's me... It got a lot more surreal than I just explained it... Aaarrrgh wrote: I loved this, and it serves as a good introduction to each character, which is useful for people who are bad at keeping up with reading stuff (that would be me, by the way). Also, I think you really captured Erik, which reminds me of the fact that I need to finish the story I started working on months ago... Thanks, Aaarrrgh! Glad you liked it! Erik and his daughter seemed perfect for the, I guess we'll call it the "good ending." He helps counter-balance the other ones pretty well, I think.

Author:	KeeperofManyNames [ Mon Aug 18, 2014 10:22 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
It took me a bit to remember who Erik was and then I want awwwww. You really did capture each character well. Clade's bizarre gentleness as he wrecks everything... Kirsh's ethical doubts and desire to heal even perhaps beyond his own ability... Ellia's casual abusive cruelty and bitterness... Erik's simple goodness... and Raiker's totally twisted petulance here warped into something almost noble. I feel like maybe with some of the established characters we could make room in the archives for shorter character pieces that just show interactions like this, albeit in a more canonical context... There's something really engaging about short character stuff.

Author:	RavenoftheBlack [ Mon Aug 18, 2014 10:51 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
KeeperofManyNames wrote: It took me a bit to remember who Erik was and then I want awwwww. You really did capture each character well. Clade's bizarre gentleness as he wrecks everything... Kirsh's ethical doubts and desire to heal even perhaps beyond his own ability... Ellia's casual abusive cruelty and bitterness... Erik's simple goodness... and Raiker's totally twisted petulance here warped into something almost noble. I feel like maybe with some of the established characters we could make room in the archives for shorter character pieces that just show interactions like this, albeit in a more canonical context... There's something really engaging about short character stuff. Glad you enjoyed it! I was really proud of the fact that Ellia's segment is about half as long as the others, like she couldn't be bothered for even that short space of time. I was pretty happy with Clade's section, although it feels a little odd he would come to the door rather than just smash through. Kirsh's section is probably my favorite. Although it's usually bad storytelling, I do have a soft-spot for the "And it was all a psychotic delusion" endings... I love Raiker's ending, but I don't feel I captured the surreal, horrific world outside nearly as well as I imagine it.

Author:	Tevish Szat [ Mon Aug 18, 2014 10:55 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
I won't lie: On my first read-through, I thought the room in Raiker's ending was a room-sized artificial demi-plane in the Blind Eternities. I got that it was on a more regular eldritch hellscape the second time through.

Author:	Tevish Szat [ Mon Aug 18, 2014 11:27 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
Somehow I could see that from Illarion, despite him not being that awesome a 'walker, just because of his tourist behavior.

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Author:	OrcishLibrarian [ Mon Aug 18, 2014 11:37 pm ]
Post subject:	Re: Imagine a Room
RavenoftheBlack wrote: Tevish Szat wrote: Somehow I could see that from Illarion, despite him not being that awesome a 'walker, just because of his tourist behavior. I can see it. Illarion: Yeah, this is alright, but you haven't LIVED until you've see the blood moon-rise from this peak I know of. I just really hope it's not eldritch horror rutting season... I read "blood moon-rise," and my brain retconned all the Generator prompts about "Illarion starts a band" to "Illarion starts a CCR cover band."