"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
"I reject your reality and substitute my own!" -The Dungeonmaster
You know what I’m fond of? A little something wrong. Yea, you heard me right. I enjoy the mishaps, the mistakes, a little bit of witty chaos now and then but you know why? Because I think it reflects you lovelies so darn well.
You try to build perfect little lives with perfect little families but come on!! In the end you all manage to screw it up anyways!
You know what?
I’ll make it easier on you. Let’s just get the niceties out of the way (scrap ‘em) and put our elbows deep in some good, thick, black grease. What you munchkins need is a unique challenge, am I right? Something you haven’t seen around that often, something …all wrong.
Let me just roll out the welcome carpet for those of you who are brave enough or just downright silly enough to try (Erm, well, I think just a bright flash of light will do. Nothing too fancy.) and we can get started:
One of my favorite tales should be familiar to you all, as it comes from a human woman who lived her life without ever finding the romance she wrote about. Twisted, eh? Pride & Prejudice is a novel for the ages and if you haven’t read it, then this SYNOPSIS ought to the do the trick. Really though, you should make it a priority to at least try it out, or watch the movie for goodness sake. Anyways! Your task is to rewrite this romance to suit my needs. Make it wrong, make it goofy, make sure that it doesn’t end how it’s supposed to. Make it real, I suppose. But don’t make it unnecessarily lengthy. 800 words at the maximum should do it.
In return, I’ll make you all a little less “plastic” for the trouble and those who make it to the end … I’ve got a bag of something you’re sure to be shocked at.
SYNOPSIS:
FAIR WARNING: Every entry to this quest will receive a defect. These will be permanent.
THE TASK:
Think your character is weird, brave, or foolish enough to take a risk? You’ve come to the right quest. No one walks away safe from this one but at the same time, didn’t Peter Parker get bit by that radioactive spider? Sounds like things ended up alright with him. Except for uncle Ben …
Right. Your character(s) experiences a moment of pure, white noise. Just a fingersnap of soundless light and now they’ve become magical floating orbs hanging semicircle with one another, like a little soul campfire meeting. Your Host (that’s me) would like them to retell a famous novel in 800 words or less and to make it wrong, goofy, and end horribly.
Feel free to include a description of your character being pulled into the quest. You can be aware of the other “orbs” but may not interact with them. Powers aren’t necessary for this adventure, so consider them useless.
DA RULES
Please PM @[Orb Thing] with any questions/concerns you may have =)
If you edit your post, please give a reason why (the forum allows you to type out a reason for the edit before you re-post). Failure to do so may result in elimination.
You may enter up to 3 characters but be warned, they’ll all be grouped together! That’s to say you’ll reply to this thread with your retold story along with the names of the character/s you’d like to enter, and however that story is judged will affect all characters entered. So, if you write your story and enter 3 characters, all 3 will be affected, regardless if you’re eliminated or move on to the next stage.
To keep this fun, fair, and fresh no two characters entered will receive the same defect.
“My nerves Mrs. Bennett, have pity on my poor nerves!” The waifish Mr. Bennett whines as he retreats into his study. The woman of the house watches him go with an aloof feline pleasure, not because he’s anything to look at, but because it means she won't have to endure his mousy sniffling. He’s half in the grave already and will likely worry himself the rest of the way over nothing.
She calls a farewell into the garden as soon as her husband has closed his heavy oaken door. Four girls, all of them too lean and too frizzy-haired, wave disinterestedly from their various activities. Children still, and boring ones at that.
She eschews silk slippers for riding boots, always, and now disappears out the front door and into the yard where her son Michael waits with their horses. He holds her side-saddled bay as she mounts, and then climbs aboard his own seal brown beast. The two of them spur out of the pebble strewn yard and down the pale carriage-rutted road. Away from the too small house, and the frail husband, and the silly stupid girls.
They ride the country lanes, and leap tired splintering fences. For Jane (for she can shed the moldering sackcloth of Mrs. Bennett while on these rides) these outings are a much needed opportunity to shed the guise of pallid housewife. She was too young married, too quickly bred, and these escapes are the only protection from darkest melancholy.
Gregarious Michael begs to visit with a friend, and she lets him go with a reminder to be home before dark lest his father send the hounds after him. She is bound for Netherfield Park where Mr. Morris’ estate sits quietly empty and where she knows she can ride as she likes without disturbance.
She passes near the house, just to be sure it’s still unoccupied. It looks as though the place is still buttoned up. Satisfied by this cursory inspection she rides out into the trees toward the rolling green hills. Entirely missing the approach of a carriage down the lane.
Fitzwilliam Darcy is a man who cannot be altered by time, or space, or universe. He is strong, and sloe eyed, and full of dark moods that somehow make him more desirable rather than less. Country estates in quiet counties do not displease him as much as he would like everyone to believe, but he still scowls as he rides up behind the carriage with Bingley. His best friend in the world is retreating to a small estate called Netherfield in order to hide out and recover from his most recent tryst, his love affair with the King’s nephew having imploded rather dramatically.
He excuses himself to explore the grounds on his dark hunter, and rides out away from the party who will take hours to fuss and settle into the house. It doesn’t take long for him to discover a brunette woman, cheeks flush galloping her mare over the rolling hills out of sight of the house. For all his sour reserve, he is amused, though he not a smiling man. He spurs his horse after hers, and they race until her mare grows tired. Jane is laughing, green eyes flashing. Beneath a rangy oak, Darcy slides from his horse and plucks her from her own without ceremony. In the cool shade he pulls her body to his and they come together like lovers, rather than the strangers they are.
Many such days are spent on the grounds of Netherfield after that. When at last he must return to Pemberley they conjure a furious disagreement as if it can seal the parting for good.
By the next month Mr. Bennett’s nerves have sent him to the churchyard. Mr. Collins snatches up all their property--except for the bay mare--and makes a proposal to 12 year old Jane, which motivates Jane senior to pack up the children and send them to live with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Having done her duty as a mother she remains to manage the sweat-stained Mr. Collins new estate as he cannot abandon his parish or his benevolent benefactor.
And then a letter comes from Pemberley. Condolences. A wish to make amends. As brief and cold as Darcy could have managed to make an apology. Jane does not delay.
On the grounds of Pemberley a few weeks later she rides her horse pell mell into the reed lined lake, to meet him, dropping from its back and into the cold water, wading to meet him in a soaked white dress (she could not come to him in widow’s weeds!) that clings to her body and molds to the full curves of her breasts, her hair damp waves that he grasps desperately when he captures her cherry lips.
Orb Quest
Word Count: 799 Characters Submitted: Leokadia, Tunnel TLDR: One sexy Mrs. Bennett (Jane Bennett nee Gardiner). Lame Daughters. Mary is a boy named Michael who doesn't suck. Mr. Bennet does suck and dies. Mr Collins gets everything and is probs a pedophile. Mom gets Mr. Darcy. The End.
Look at that! Out of an entire world there was only two brave souls ... pity. The good news for you is that both top defects are yours to enjoy
These are brand new, handmade defects so be sure to include the description when you post in updates!!
For Leokadia: Perfect Recollection: Like photographic memory, your horse can now instantly catalogue and recall everything they’ve ever learned or seen. You won’t forget the tone of a voice, or the exact number of scales or teeth on your friends, or what was said letter for letter to you in passing conversation. A blessing? A curse? Either way it’s certainly not a trait!
For Tunnel: Matter Eater: Your gut is made of stronger stuff now! Metals, gems/stone, organic or not your horse can eat it all. Who would possibly want to eat grass when there’s so many better options to choose from? Guy Fieri is jealous of all the new tastes in your flavortown
-Both of these are permanent and as such, should be included in breeding stats when rolling for a foal. Thanks for taking a chance and I loved your wacky, mixed up tale!
