World Building Exercises

[ballisticwaffles]

This topic and this post are reserved for a variaty of world building writings.

 

Please do not post in this topic as clutter is my greatest enemy.

 

Captain Hopkins: Post #2

The Beginning: Post #3

Victoria Basalt: Post #4

Anastasia Ektos: Post #5

[ballisticwaffles]

Swear Warning.

 

The room is, of course, cold.

 A few degrees away from frost to prevent fragile and delicate wiring from being destroyed, a few degrees away from a tepid and disgusting warmth. The room is of course cold to allow the armored men at each junction to feel warmth in their suits, to remain comfortable as any intruder would feel the chill. 

 

The room is, of course, cold to allow the being in the life tube in the center of the room to have a modicum of privacy. The tube mists as the warm gel inside stays warm, the mist allowing its occupant time to be decent should a situation arise of the sudden.

And the sudden bursts through the door.

 

"My Lord!" An indignant voice whines, striding up to the amber liquid. It is attached to a regally dressed man, a long flowing animal skin robe preventing him from chilling in the air.

 

The amber liquid is no longer amber, as its occupant wills it to his desire. Where once, perhaps in the corner of the eye, the occupant is a fetal scrap of flesh with wires pouring from its chest and head is a powerfully built monsterosity of metal and flesh. Sitting on a throne that stretches to the top of the tube, he is embroidered with the royal red finery of the Deus Meus Amat.

 

Though his mouth is occupied by a face encompassing breathing mask, his voice is clear and unaltered.

 

"You didn't knock" He points out, the men at each terminal that textures the bridge ignoring the conversation by way of helmets that connect to wires in the ceiling.

 

The Noble decides to ignore his lord. "That... Harlot!" He begins. "That ignoble and intrusive COW, has dared insinuate that i have dared attempt to subvert your lordship!"

 

The Captain in his chair brings the information with a wave of his hand, the glowing interface shimmering into existance in mid air. He does it mainly for show and for the interactivity it brings, the information already pumped into his brain.

 

"On behalf of your Grace, Captain of the Deus Meus amat" The Captain reads aloud, the noble shifting awkwardly as he is denied the attention a man of his power deserves. "I Anastasia Ektos do back the claim that Count Isaac Fredrick is attempting to subvert the realm, the ship, and..."

 

The Captain looks up, his eyes aglow with red from implants. "Me."

The count scoffs, blubbering indignantly. "Your personal whores have gone too far this time, Joseph! I demand you do something about these baseless accusations! I demand it! I*hurk*"

 

To his knees the count is forced, the armored men at the door pressing their guns into the back of his neck.

"You demand?" The Captain says, almost amused by the whole issue. "You demand!" He laughs, a cruel and mirth filled guffaw of laughter that lasts for a minute.

 

"I know of your back dealings and your plans, Issac" The Captain says, slapping away the dim blue light of the letter he had been sent. "I know this because you forgot something. You all did" 

 

Off his throne he goes, taking the steps one at a time for dramatic effect.

 

"Maybe on that slum i scrapped you from you mattered. Maybe you were able to be the highest shit stack in the barn. But on MY ship, Isaac, you are nothing but a penny to be spent on trivial trinkets."

 

The Captain reaches the last step as the men drag the count to the tube, his feet dragging on the ground.

 

"You all forgot that when i let your feculent ass on my ship, i became your GOD"

 

His voice and his body drops to a kneel, looking the shuddering count in the eyes. "I personally employed Anastasia to make sure that this influx of disobedience and material wasting would be put an end to."

 

He doesn't even move as one of the guards takes the moment to floor the count, Isaac grunting in pain as he does.

 

"I personally employed Anastasia because, god forbidding, if on MY ship if I want a personal say in the matter of how money is made on MY ship , i am going to damn well take it."

 

The count rises quickly, jamming a finger into the blast glass of the tube. 

 

"You cant do this!" He shouts, only to be dragged back to his previous position as Joseph ascends the steps once more. "The Constitution..."

 

"That rag that hangs in every manor contains the statement that it is by MY will that it exists." The captain snaps, planting his armor coated posterior on his throne. "And by MY will if i wanted a fascist dictatorship, the only thing you are allowed to do is bend over and politely ask me "hard as you can please!"

 

Again the count is forced to his knees. "By MY will and by the grace of ME do you contain your life still, Isaac." The Captain spits. "By MY will you slither up here and start making demands to your superior."

 

With a wave of his hand the guards loop hands underneath Issac's shoulders and drag him to the door.

 

"If Anastasia catches you with any more plots or major inconsistencies in your taxes, Count." The Captain spits again. "Rest assured i am allowed to strip you of your titles and sentence you to Drone!"

 

A nod of his head and the guard on the left kicks open the door, Isaac being propelled outward by the 2nd one.

 

"Go back home and have sex with your concubines Issac" The captain orders. "And never use my given name again or i will have your head."

 

The room bustles as servants clean the grease stains off of the glass, the Amber liquid returning as the image of the powerfully built cyborg is replaced by the thin and decrepit visage of the Captains immortally contained body. The room empties as quickly as it filled and a deathly silenced only punctuated by the breathing of air filters and the low humming of the engines that power the DeMeA fills the air.

 

The room is, of course, cold.

[ballisticwaffles]

The room is, for once, no longer cold.

 

The tube that holds the Captain displays the fierce visage of his personal heraldry, the iron throne and the machine man that sits on it. He sits with regality more than likely stolen from something he had seen from a movie. It is effective nonetheless, the royal visage intently listening to the proclamation in front of him with carefully measured attention. 

 

"Therefore, given the rights and titles awarded to us for our long and plentiful service in your lordships retainment, we the Nine formally request that the tithes paid to us by your lordship, in accordance with sub section..."

 

The captain holds a single hand, silencing the Nine Counts with his simple gesture. He absconds from his throne to descend his jewel encrusted steps, breathing heavily as he does. 

 

"I wrote those codes, Andrej, i know what subsections and what loopholes you invoke to demand for your allowance." The captain sighs, his respirator making not a sound as he approaches the glass wall separating him from his hereditary bureaucrats. "I also remember your grandfather having to cleanse the whole engineering section before he even deigned to request an increase of his tithe."

 

The Captain has to raise his hand again to prevent an outraged burst of vocal filth.

 

"So tell me, Count Andrej, what achievment do you claim ownership to?" The Captain asks,holding his hands out, as if expecting a tremendous hug. "Perhaps you would claim that horrendous smell on the lower decks? It would do me well to find out what kind of feculence is rotting out my Engineers."

 

The Captain throws up a picture with the flick of his hand. Charred bodies lining the decks of a foreign part of the ship are only matched by the burley and armored clad men pointing guns at the corpses. 

 

"Or perhaps that when the workers demanded their wages, you could claim why I had to pay off their families to prevent a scandal that could destroy me whole." The Captain says, flinging the image so that it is in his background as he continues to draw sickening pictures from the databanks of his ship.

 

"The labor day riot? Would you claim that? The falling work standards? The lack of production?" The Counts fall silent, having at least the minimal decency to show embarrassment.

 

"Goddamnit, answer me!" The Captain throws his hand out, gesturing to untold amounts of misery around him. "I thought you were supposed to be my voice! You were supposed to be my hands!"

 

The Count on the far left steps forward, his voice silky smooth in the moist and tepid air.

 

"That is quite enough, Jose*hurk*" 

 

The Illusory captain stares impassionately at the crumpled count. His chest rises with exaggerated intensity as he sighs through the iron across his mouth. "I would have accepted Lord Hopkins, cur. I would have accepted Captain Joseph even." The hand that disabled the noble withdrew back into the ceiling. 

 

Metal arms hoist the count to his feet, the guards that lined the doors standing the shuddering man as best they can. 

 

"I am, above all things, am Your Captain." He says malignantly, his eyes singling out each man and woman in front of him. "From the sound of things i have left my ship be run without my consent for too long."

 

"My lord, we can barely operate with that screeching harpy breathing down our necks!" Bursts out Count Issac, beads of sweat rolling down his pallid face like a waterfall of filth. The Captain gives him a moment of consideration before responding.

 

"Duchess Anastasia has done nothing but work under the confines of the limits i gave your dynasties when i allowed you land, Issac." he says coldly, regarding the man like a piece of toilet paper. "I hired Anna because i needed someone to turn your inefficiencies into a productive system."

 

He regards the images behind him, the action a simple allowance of time as more Crimson Guards file into the room. "As i can plainly see, she is not enough to even begin to fix that awful stench."

 

The Captain ascends his throne, lounging backwards as data flies through his brain.

 

"I am kind." He declares, the crimson men lowering their aim as they turn on a dime and leave the chamber. "I am kind for you have a single chance to fix the problems that plague MY ship."

 

The Captain holds out a hand, his palm facing up. 

 

"Kneel." 

 

There is hesitancy as the Nine counts kneel, their eyes cast downward at the floor. That alone convinces The Captain of his next words. He bangs a fist on his throne, two live feeds expanding to stand at the foot of the tube.

 

"SIR" Victoria Basalt salutes, one hand across her chest and her visage bent in a gesture of supplication. 

"My Captain" greets Anastasia Ektos , the Lizard creature abandoning her papers in a haste to bow.

 

"My counts, it is obvious corruption taints your veins" The Captain says, nodding to the two ladies as they stand at attention. "It comes to my responsibility to cut the corruption where it stands."

 

"Dame Victoria. You have served my realm with no hesitancy and loyalty." He turns to the short and well dressed Duchess. "Anastasia, you have proven yourself a fine administrator and valuable asset to my realm. You both will be rewarded as deserved"

 

The looks of shock on both of the women in front of him are eclipsed by the outraged proclamations of the ex counts in front of him.

 

"My Lord, you cant..." Begins a count, silenced by a look of intense fury from the usually ambivalent Captain.

 

"I? I cant?" He laughs coldly. "Countess Georgia,you are more correct than than your outburst would imply! No, I can, but that would be more effort i am willing to spend."

 

The Captain leans forward, his fingers intertwined  and his cheeks pulled into a pseudo-smile.

 

"No, I am kind. Isaac, Gregory, Georgia, and Marie. step forward." Swallowing both their fears and their tongues, the four named counts take a step forward.

 

The Captain leans on his right hand, beckoning the four to kneel again.

 

"Swear your titles, your holdings, and your realms to Dame Victoria." Trembling, their bodies failing as they kneel, the foursome began to hand their lively hoods over to the still shellshocked warrioress.

 

As they finish, Gregory collapses weeping as the full realization hits him like a freight truck. Aside him, Isaac crosses himself with furious intensity his breath quick and his chest falling in and out with every breath.

 

"Carmichael, Frederick, Tyler, Eric" The Captain lists, starring the remaining compatriots down with a casual glance. "Give your realms to Anastasia."

 

The lone count stands in the back as his fellow nobles kneel and give their familial possessions to the two holographic images in a metal tube.

 

"Benedict Benedictus, i strip you of your land and all titles." The Captain says. "They shall remain in my possession where they will be put to better use than your simplistic carnal desires could afford."

 

"This is deplorable how far you have fallen, Captain" The count retorts, his silky voice tainted by rage. He alone stands as the Captain stares him down, meeting the mechanical and glowing eyes of his lord. 

 

"Where once i would feel insulted by your opinion, there only remains contempt for your incompetence, Count Benedictus." The Captain shoots back, the Crimson Guard on the sidelines lowering their weapons and pointing them at the standing count. 

 

"I shall not be cowed by a display of force, Joseph" Mocks the Count, only stubborn pride keeping him from folding under the violent threat. "You shall have to pry my hereditary lands from my corpse. I shall die as a man."

 

The Captain chuckles at the statement. "I'm not going to kill you, Benedict" He says, snorting at the thought. "I am kind. You all are going to stand trial for crimes against Myself and the People of the Deus Meus Amat. You will be judged by a jury of your peers, and innocence will be rewarded for the ones who deserve it."

 

The Crimson Guard approach the  ex-nobles, cuffing them with metal braces that went the length of a forearm. It seems for a second that Gregory reaches for a bulge on his hip, but falters and is cuffed before something could happen.

 

"Treat them well, their past accomplishments have some measure of leveling their current barbarism cannot eclipse" The captain orders as the 9 are dragged from the room, leaving the Captain and the remaining members of the bridge crew in silence.

 

"Dame Victoria"

"SIR"

 

The Captain takes a deep breath. "I reinstate the title of the 2nd Duchy of the Deus Meus Amat. Dame Victoria, you are now Duchess of the DeMeA and the four holdings in your possession."

 

VIctoria keeps the stoic look on her face long enough to slam her fist into her chest and bow again.

 

"My Captain" Anastasia says slowly, her mind racing with both fear and possibility. "What are we to do with the spare titles you have awarded us?"

 

The Captain sits back in his chair. "Keep them, or give them to deserving men. I care not. It is your jobs now to make my ship run smoothly, and i have full confidence in both of your abilities to fulfill that agenda"

 

Anastasia sputters, Victoria looking more horrified by the second. "But... sir, i dont know..."

 

The Captain silences them. "This isn't up for debate. My Duchesses, i am confident that with 4 realms for the each of you that you will manage to scrounge up a few people to teach you what you need to know. How you run your realms is your business."

 

The Captain pauses to let the information sink in.

 

"But i will be here to help." He amends, sighing as the stress of the day catches up to him. "no longer will my ship be run hands free. I will help the both of you and maybe the three of us can salvage this situation."

 

Anastasia nods while Victoria salutes again, both looking a bit more comforted by a minimal margin.

 

"I shall take my leave, my Captain." Anastasia says, reaching for something off screen. 

Victoria bows again and at once both cameras shut off at once, leaving Joseph by his lonesome in the tepid and rapidly cooling room.

[ballisticwaffles]

Swear Warning.

 

As the link to the Captain dies, leaving the newly minted Duchess alone in the dark of her office, Victoria takes a single step and collapses to the floor. Running her hands through her long red hair, she takes a few even breaths as she consults the ceiling for advice.

 

"Holy fuck." She decides upon, taking one last long good breath before ascending from the carpet.

 

The door opens without provocation, an oddity that Victoria was still getting used to. All this technology crap made her head spin, and she would gladly kill anything ever to have a simple wooden door to kick down. 

 

"Commander?" Asks a voice far removed from her thoughts. In her automotive state, she had walked out of her private quarters and back into the meeting room where she had so quickly removed herself at the Captain's beckoning.

 

Her Administrative staff, her Tribunes, and her Legate all looks at her with uncertainty, the emotion mirrored on her face.

 

"Is everything okay?" She is asked, her mind to far off to even attach words to faces.

 

"Dame?" Those words she could place, her eldest Tribune approaching her with trepidation. She cracks her neck and glances around the room. "Are you okay, ma'am?"

 

"Call a general meeting." She speaks at last, looking around at the faces that she has come to appreciate in the past 3 months. "Every man under my command is to appear, do you understand? Everyone is to assemble and await further orders.

 

The rushing around is nothing compared to the look on her Legate's face. "Oh god, Ma'am what happened?"

 

Victoria licks her lips and breaths the filtered air deep.

 

"I got made a Duchess."

[ballisticwaffles]

Swearing ahead

 

Anastasia closes the link to the Captain with a practiced wave, her mind racing with thoughts. She returns to her couch and stacks all the paper into a single pile, neat and efficient. Rubbing her maw with a free hand, she lets her mind relax for a split second before she speaks.

 

"Marian?"

 

There is a ding as her receptionist answers back.

 

"Would you kindly send for Ragnol? Tell him its urgent."

 

The second ding and Anastasia allows her long neck to rest on the arm of the cushion. The responsibilities of a Duchess she could handle. Budgeting and dealing with uppity mammals she excelled at. That's why she was the 1st Duchess of course! But with 4 counties and an untold amount of other minor lands now in her possession, she was going to have so much to do!

 

"Yes Love?" From the door a gargantuan wall of flesh answers, his meaty bulk barely clearing the door. Barrel chested and broad in body, Ragnol Sarl glides over to his wife, feeling her forehead as she fully extends her feet and tail to dominate the whole couch.

 

"Our Captain gave me ownership of every thing under my territory" She moans, wrapping around Ragnol as he cradles her in his arms. The Danish man looks more shocked than anything, wracking his mind for an answer that could explain things.

 

"Captain displeased?" He asks, idly stroking his wife's back as she lays in his grasp.

 

"I don't know, darling" She admits, lifting herself up to smooch Ragnol in a disgusting display of affection. "But we have so many things to take care of now!" She moans, falling across Ragnol's chest and humming in thought. 

 

There is silence for a few good minutes as Ragnol strokes his wife with his massive hands. "Replace Feudal ties?" He thinks aloud, Anastasia's tail twitching in thought.

 

Ragnol chuckles and returns the peck with one of his own. "Always a positive."

Anastasia smiles. At least her species equivalent. "Well we better get started then. I know for a fact that Eric couldn't count to save his life..."

[ballisticwaffles]

Sitting cross legged in a simple seat way larger than she needed, Anastasia gives a cursory wave to the security before the gates to the compound. She was surprised her distinct and well known visage didn't get her automatically into the deepest pits of the massive ship, but the captain was more paranoid than he was efficient. It was a simple wave regardless, hardly worth complaining about.

 

The door opens and Victoria enters from the other side, hollering to the gaggle of assembled men before she slams the door shut and breaths the air conditioned air with heavy and deep gulps. She mutters a prayer to the sky and looks down when she hears Anastasia begin to titter. 

 

"Been a busy week?" Anastasia laughs, Victoria's entire face red. 

 

Victoria lets the cool air filter through her being before deigning to respond to her new equal. "I don't know how the hell you and Ragnol do it, Anna. I barely have enough time to myself. I've had Robert running around helping me a bunch. But i swear that man is half dead and he ain't gonna be able to help me for much longer."

 

They both jolt as the Airmobile lifts off and speeds into the air. 

 

"Well this is your chance to ask the captain for more resources." Anastasia points out, her eyes tracking shapes in the distance and buildings that make up the DeMeA's interior. She always loved travelling to her weekly get togethers with the Captain. She loved watching the terrain simply speed on by as she sat there in silence.

 

"Fuck that, the Captain gave me my orders and i'm going to accomplish them without begging."

 

Alas silence, thee were young.