< atton revisited > The information page for Atton has been fully revised and updated with the new map!
< updated calendar > The Fortuna calendar has been updated in the "Other" lore section! This includes a document which displays the calendar for you to see, making it much easier to understand.
< moving map > The first functional map has been released in the News section! This map is also interactive, allowing you to drag and drop between points in order to determine distances. This is the first iteration, and there's more and better to come!
< first annual awards > The results for the First Annual Fortuna Year-End Awards have been posted! Go and take a look at who the finalists were, and who took home the big prizes!
< new default skin > Our new skin has passed the beta test, and is now the new Default for the forums! If you have any issues with this skin, send a PM or Discord to Mellie.
< human lore update > Humans have been updated with TWENTY-FIVE subraces/subcultures which add numerous options, and a little extra lore and flavour.
< magic lore update > Magical Lore has been enhanced with the addition of a post on Magical Education. From Beginner to Expert, this is how you learn the spells.
< a change to member groups > Member groups are now based on storyline! You can change your displayed storyline by editing the settings in your profile.
Welcome to the world of Fortuna, a land of fantastic proportions. This is an original fantasy roleplay that takes place in a world developed over nearly a decade of work and collaboration. We aim to encourage all participants to have a hand in the stories of the characters here, and the world around them. Your choices are key - so make them with pride. You decide who wins the wars, you decide who becomes King, the world is ours, and together we will bring it to life!
Post by Acacia-Black on Jan 1, 2017 11:06:50 GMT -7
Black followed Thomas up the stairs, looking towards the three hallways. His pace slowed at the first, and even more at the second. He was afraid of those hallways, but couldn't run from them. Thomas would not let him. As Thomas stepped onto another flight of stairs, Black blinked, and quickly caught up with him. By the time they had reached his room, Black's head was itching. When Thomas turned the lights on, Black shielded his eyes, even though the room had a rather average lighting to it.
He was only half-listening to Thomas, but he caught the gist. This was his room, and he could ask for anything. "Oh, yes, this looks lovely, mas-" Black gripped his head and screamed. "No! Not now!" Zechariah could see Thomas standing in front of him. He looked towards the photograph, and saw himself. Thomas and all his puppets. Zechariah stepped forward, trying to grab Thomas' throat, but his foot pulled back. Black could not win. He was Zechariah Vanros, he would never be Thomas' slave. No, this would not work. If Thomas saw him now, he would cut this reunion short, and immediately prioritizing erasing Zechariah. He would only be Acacia-Black.
Zechariah snarled, and shook his head. "Apologies, master." Zechariah loathed to say the word, but Black was an utter sycophant. Thomas would need to believe that Black could fend for himself. He had only a week, which was plenty of time for Black to take this body back. But it was also just as much of a chance for Zechariah to fight. "Zechariah thought he could take me, but he is weak. He's grown soft without you around, but we shouldn't worry about him, not now, and neither should… Green." She must have had another name. Every last one of Thomas' puppets had lives outside of this. He walked to the photograph, but took choice glances at Thomas in case he was not so easily fooled and was already planning something. He needed to know who all these people were. Green looked nothing like she did now, and Zechariah… he was smiling, as if he enjoyed being here. He looked to the man standing next to Thomas. Was he one of Thomas' fellow puppeteers? Zechariah pointed to the man on the photograph. "Pardon me, I don't recognize him. Who is he?"
Post by Thomas Dunn on Jan 1, 2017 11:48:31 GMT -7
While Black seemed... Fine at restraining Zechariah, it seemed as though Tom's prized pupil had weakened over the years. It wasn't just the faded depth of his skin, no, it was everything. Tom did not flinch at Black's strain, at his almost attack on him, but made a mental note to be diligent when performing the physical on him later. There was a good chance that when he received magic from the charms in the safe that he would strengthen enough to better control himself, to erase Zechariah almost without Tom's interference... But, there still remained the potential for Zechariah to ruin everything.
He couldn't have that.
He followed Black over to the photograph, smiling at what it held. What a time it had been, then. Project ACACIA's roots - fully funded and sanctioned by the Artavian government. An expansive set of facilities. Talented minds and hands all working towards progress. If it had not been for those times, Tom had to doubt if Project ACACIA could have come about. If it had not been for the other man there in the photo...
"I thought you might not remember him," Tom placed a hand on Black's shoulder and squeezed it a bit. He remembered that's what that man would have done to Tom, when he had done his best work. The man was older than Tom, and dead now - though not from age. "Doctor Richard Abernathy," Tom smiled, "My mentor. He was the one to create Red, to start all of this. It was a one-off at the time... But after his success, and it's usefulness in the war... Well, it wasn't hard for me to convince them all that we needed to do more. We couldn't let progress escape our grasp. Without him, I never could have achieved what I did with you, and with Green. Perhaps, you would call him Grandfather."
Post by Acacia-Black on Jan 2, 2017 18:39:37 GMT -7
Grandfather? No, this was not his family. That was just a lie that Thomas was using to pretend that he actually cared about any of them. Zechariah looked closer to Richard Abernathy. "Can I meet him?" If Thomas was his man's student, then all of this was Abernathy's fault. The real Abernathy. No wonder he had presented himself to Edgar as "Thomas Abernathy". Maybe it was his own idea of trying to respect his mentor. "Red" had eventually died from these experiments, and yet, this entire project got as far as it did because of when he was still useful to Thomas. Zechariah would have rather died, just like Red. Anything was better than being Thomas' precious little "Acacia".
Last Edit: Jan 2, 2017 18:40:19 GMT -7 by Acacia-Black
Post by Thomas Dunn on Jan 2, 2017 21:13:46 GMT -7
He watched Black's reaction to this information carefully, mentally noting the microexpressions he could make out. A bit... Of disgust, was that what that was? He shouldn't have been surprised. Green had never been discharged from Project ACACIA. Black had. He had a third set of memories competing for dominance. It was troubling in many ways... And he knew at that moment that Black's door would need to remain locked when he wasn't supervised. Tom wasn't going to risk his work, himself, or even Green for the sake of Black's sense of freedom.
"Unfortunately not," He answered in a measured voice. He held back the truth for now, lies always coming easier for him, "Doctor Abernathy passed away long ago. A broken heart, I've always thought. He loved RED so dearly, like a son... He was never the same after what happened to him. But--" He clapped a hand on Black's shoulder and firmly guided the young man back to the door, "How about a meal? You look downright starved. We can start to get that beautiful black colour back to your skin, and then I'll do a full physical on you."
"Green?" Tom called as he closed Black's door behind him, "How's dinner coming?"
Post by Acacia-Green on Jan 3, 2017 1:30:23 GMT -7
Green ascended the steps carefully, as she always did, when she left Father and Black behind to go prepare a meal. Careful not to lose her footing, careful to make sure her legs did not shake or threaten to give out beneath her, careful not to show weakness or pain, though her legs still sometimes pained her deeply. She did not question the pain, though. She didn't know that it was abnormal. She thought that perhaps everyone's legs hurt sometimes, while ascending stairs or after walking for a long time. In a way her assumption was correct, but also it was wrong, for no one had legs quite like hers and the pain others might feel in their own legs would be different than what she herself experienced. So much of Green's life was unique to her, though she did not know it, and simply thought her life to be normal.
When she entered the kitchen she went first to the safe where she inputted the code she had memorized and never used, and she opened the door to the safe to reveal what Black was to eat for his meal. She pulled out one of the charms she found inside, turning it over in her hands curiously as she wondered how exactly he was to eat such a thing. She set the charm on the counter while she went about setting the table as usual, though unlike usual she lay three table settings. She placed the cutlery neatly next to each plate, but hesitated after laying out Black's setting. She took the cutlery away. She put the cutlery back. She looked over at the charm, which was metal and likely much too hard to be pierced by fork or knife, and took the cutlery away again. Then, after another long moment of deliberation, put them back and decided it was better to be over prepared than under prepared.
She went about preparing the regular food for Father and herself, and then as it was cooking she set the charm for Black on his plate. It looked lonely. The plate was large enough that the charm seemed lacklustre sitting in the middle of it. She looked back to the safe and wondered if one charm was enough, or if Father had meant Black would need all of the safe contents for dinner. She took out the remaining charms and placed them all on the plate then, forming a small mountain of charms. If he didn't eat them all, surely they could be put back in the safe for next time. Better to be over prepared than under prepared, right? One of the charms slid off the pile and landed on the table with a soft thud, and she picked it up and frowned at it, and placed it back on the pile more securely this time. Yes, it was perfect.
She returned to the stove and continued cooking the regular food, and it was almost ready when she heard Father call her name and ask how dinner was coming. "It is almost ready, Father," she called back, turning off the burner and beginning to plate the food.
Last Edit: Jan 12, 2017 23:48:45 GMT -7 by Acacia-Green
Post by Acacia-Black on Jan 10, 2017 18:46:46 GMT -7
Richard Abernathy was already dead? Excellent, that meant there would be one less monster to deal with. It might have been more satisfying if Zechariah had killed Richard himself, but he was dead either way. That just left Thomas to deal with. His offer of a physical, though… that would be difficult. If he did suspect that he was talking to Zechariah instead of Black, what better way to prove it?
Zechariah definitely needed the sustenance, though. Green said that dinner was almost ready, which was as good enough an excuse as any to walk downstairs. Green was setting up the plates, and she had even stacked several charms for Zechariah. There were more than enough to constitute a full "meal", but maybe if he took in a little extra, he might just gain some power. More than he had before. Zechariah took his seat, and nodded towards Green, and the food she had prepared for Thomas and herself. "This all looks wonderful, Green. I don't usually… well, I don't eat at all, but this is a lot. Not that I mind, though! This looks like it will be the perfect meal."
He grasped several of the charms at once. It would help him gain more power quickly, but hopefully Thomas and Green would dismiss it as him just being hungry. There were so many things he could do with his power, and that's what Thomas would want. Perhaps Richard Abernathy didn't have to stay dead for long. Necromancy must have been outlawed for good reason. It would just be a perversion of nature, an insult to the cycle of life. Innocent lives did not deserve to be pawns to anyone with Zechariah's power, but Abernathy was far from an innocent. What better way to kill Thomas Dunn than with his own master's hands?
Post by Thomas Dunn on Jan 11, 2017 16:20:31 GMT -7
Tom took his seat, and prepared to speak before they would eat. Green sat after him, and waited patiently for permission -- Black simply grabbed the charms and began to feed.
“Stop,” Tom leveled a glare at Black - no, in this moment this could not be his obedient Acacia, this was Zechariah - and his voice barely held his threat. His hand reached out and grasped Zechariah’s wrist, clenching until the charms were dropped. This behaviour was far from acceptable. It would have been unacceptable were Zechariah simply a guest, and it was far more offensive that this was one of his subjects. “We do not eat until we have been granted permission to eat,” Tom instructed, his hand still tight around Zechariah’s wrist. The ‘we’ he referred to did not include himself, of course. He was above them.
“Look at Green,” was his next instruction, “She has slaved over this meal for you, and she is waiting patiently for permission. Green-” His gaze shifted to her, finally, his grip seeming to loosen by a hair as he met her face with a smile, “Will you please instruct your brother on the manners expected of him at the table.”
Post by Acacia-Green on Jan 12, 2017 20:07:13 GMT -7
Green turned to Father as he and Black came into the kitchen, and once Father took a seat she did as well. Black took his seat and said that he thought everything looked great and then immediately grabbed at the charms on his plate. Green looked on with abject horror as he did so, and her gaze flitted to Father to see his reaction to such blatant disregard for not only the rules but also the very most basic table manners. She knew that Black was newly here, but surely he had some semblance of manners where he had come from?
Father grabbed his wrist to stop him, and explained that they only ate after permission was granted. He told Black to look at her, at Green, and how patiently she was waiting for permission even after slaving away to make the meal. Green felt a surge of pride at the acknowledgment and subtle praise. He looked at her then and smiled the smile she always wanted to bring to his face. When he asked her to instruct her brother on the table manners she smiled a little and nodded. "Of course Father," she replied.
Turning her gaze back to Black, who didn't appear to be particularly pleased about all this, she spoke again. "As head of the house, Father sits first and we may follow after he is seated. We may eat when Father has granted permission to do so, and are to stop eating if we are spoken to in order to give our full attention to the question or conversation, and again may return to eating when granted permission to do so. We are always to use proper table manners, though... I don't think you can use a fork and knife with charms? When you finish eating you are to remain seated until dismissed. When dismissed you will help clear the table and wash the dishes." Proper manners were second nature to her, so much so that she worried she may have forgotten something simply because she wouldn't think it needed explaining. She turned her attention from Black to Father then, looking for him to indicate she had done well.
Last Edit: Jan 12, 2017 23:46:51 GMT -7 by Acacia-Green
Post by Acacia-Black on Jan 16, 2017 13:43:23 GMT -7
Thomas was almost crushing Zechariah's wrist. He couldn't hold onto the charms anymore, and they dropped onto the table. Zechariah tried to pull his arm free, but Black wouldn't have resisted. While Thomas kept his grip, Zechariah winced. He couldn't hide the pain. Would Black have not moved at all?
Although Thomas loosened his grip somewhat, Zechariah hardly noticed. Green was so enthusiastic to explain how the proper table manners. Thomas' rules didn't seem too different from Zechariah's father's. His father would sit first, his father was the one to give Zechariah and his siblings permission to eat, and if his father asked a question, only the person who had been spoke to - usually Edgar - had to stop eating. Zechariah would have respected the table manners if they came from anyone else. Zechariah nodded to Green. "Thank you. I'm sorry to be so disrespectful." As if Thomas deserved any respect. Green certainly did, she couldn't help but to be the perfect servant. She might have been a maid with how refined and attentive she was.
Finding Richard Abernathy would take too long. Thomas was holding his hand, and a touch was all Zechariah would need. He closed his hand into a fist, and black wisps formed around his hand, and into Thomas' grip. The pulse had to be miniscule. His target was Thomas, and he couldn't afford letting it touch Green. He imagined the flesh Thomas' hand rotting, and the bones turning to dust. He didn't have the strength to completely kill him, but he wanted Thomas to feel death take its own grip on him, just for a moment. Even if nothing would truly happen, he wanted that feeling to make itself known.
Post by Thomas Dunn on Jan 17, 2017 13:27:53 GMT -7
He loosened his hold as Green spoke, now only ensuring that his touch - his presence, his scent, his energy - could affect the implant in Zechariah. He nodded his approval to Green, his perfect subject, and was about to let go of Zechariah when he felt it.
It was like a static shock - though the pain wasn't instant. It was as if he had touched something too hot - though it didn't sear. It was almost as if the skin of Thomas' hand were curdling - rotting. The scent of spoiled flesh hit his nose and he immediately released Black's hand, standings and backing away so quickly that his chair clattered noisily to the floor. At each place where Tom had been holding Black's wrist, layers of skin had fallen off - the protective epidermis. The young skin underneath, the kind that was not yet ready to be used, was pink, and held a sheen of thin, plasma-heavy blood. It stung as it hit the air and he grabbed his napkin, wrapping the cloth around his hand.
He wanted to strike Black - no, Zechariah, Black was once a perfect subject - to knock him out of his chair. He wanted to wrap his good hand around Zechariah's throat. He wanted to do many things... But Tom instead took a deep breath, and gave a measured response. "Green... It appears that your brother is not yet accustomed to being so full. Please remove the charms and place them back in the safe. "
As soon as she began moving, he turned to Black, and spoke quietly: "It appears I underestimated Zechariah and his power over you, Black. I thought you would be stronger than him." Tom looking to Green and smiled, wondering how desperate Zechariah was.
"Green, would you please escort Black to the conditioning room, and prepare him for tonight?" He was specific about these words, not wanting Zechariah to know what only he and Green would know. It was the language he used to indicate the operating theater. He would be expecting Green to sanitize Black and anesthetize him. From there... Tom would ensure that Black would not slip again. Damn did his hand hurt.
The skin OTHERWORLD was made by JAWN of WICKED WONDERLAND.
FORTUNA-RPG was created by MELLIE. Images belong to their respective artists. All codes and scripts belong to their respective coders. Please DO NOT take anything without the owners' permission.