This is to explain my two main characters in the Queen Bran's Revenge RP.
I never had the opportunity to write their endings myself, and with Ysbryd, her beginning, as well.
I will do so now.
I never had the opportunity to write their endings myself, and with Ysbryd, her beginning, as well.
I will do so now.
I will begin with Ysbryd, even though Therese/MARA came before in the story, they are connected.
Ysbryd was actually created, cloned, from stored DNA of Therese. It had deteriorated to some degree, which caused her appearance to be radically different from the original. Was she from Therese's far future, deposited back in time (without causing a paradox)? The details are yet unknown.
Anyway...
Ysbryd was actually created, cloned, from stored DNA of Therese. It had deteriorated to some degree, which caused her appearance to be radically different from the original. Was she from Therese's far future, deposited back in time (without causing a paradox)? The details are yet unknown.
Anyway...
I had written briefly in an RP on a previous incarnation of the Divergent Worlds Machine.
It was called 'Gyros4Hire', created by Sgt. Fergus "Ian" Macbruiche on February 15, 2012, (and
with whom I have since lost contact.)
The RP entries were written in a more independent manner, and as such, each character's actions could stand alone story-wise.
At least mine did.
It is there I first created Ysbryd, who went on to appear in the Queen Bran's Revenge RP.
The following were my entries in 'Gyros4Hire'.
It was called 'Gyros4Hire', created by Sgt. Fergus "Ian" Macbruiche on February 15, 2012, (and
with whom I have since lost contact.)
The RP entries were written in a more independent manner, and as such, each character's actions could stand alone story-wise.
At least mine did.
It is there I first created Ysbryd, who went on to appear in the Queen Bran's Revenge RP.
The following were my entries in 'Gyros4Hire'.
Reply by Therese
Ysbryd glided past the ‘citizens’ of this fates forsaken planet almost unnoticed, as
she had done on many others in this dimension, seeking a way to return home.
She had no idea if she could even find testament to clear her of the charges that
exiled her here, let alone return to Nef, the dimension from which she came.
Thank the Dduwiau, this universe was only one parallel strand away from hers.
Not that it mattered.
Her unwarranted punishment (as if exile alone was not sufficient) had made her
corporeal enough to be seen clearly by these ‘others’, but not enough to blend in
entirely as one of them.
In her world, form was inconsequential. Essence was all.
If she could not clear her name, in this thread, this nightmarish existence, she would
eventually just fade into total obscurity and then end, like many other species she
had come across in her travels.
What happened to them in their aftertime was a mystery, but there was the belief
that they too reverted to a pure state, after having been trapped in their multitude of
various embodiments.
In her world, there was no end unless one wished it to be so and then they just
dispersed into tranquility.
She despised this humanoid body, as well as it’s mode of travel. These spindles the
‘others’ called ‘legs’, were most annoying. Especially since just a thought, in her own
world, was all that was necessary for transport.
And then there was this persistent need for sustenance to keep it all functioning
optimally, not to mention the thing that disgusted her the most- elimination of waste.
There was a legend, in her own dimension, of a man who voluntarily entered this
strand, a trans-dimensional inter-exploratory scientist who, although knowing the
way to return, chose to stay after becoming enamored with a female human.
Stuff and nonsense most likely, she thought to herself, but since there was always
some small amount of truths in legend, it was her only hope in discovering a way
home.
Then she could find the one who betrayed and falsely incriminated her and thus
restore her honour.
At least, when she was imprisoned in this state, her condemners permitted her to
keep partial psionics, such as ‘perception of intent’ which helped to weed out whom
she could and could not trust (as well as to hopefully distinguish the one she
sought), along with a decent amount of ‘persuasive influence’ and ‘telekinesis’.
The only problem being, all were dependent on such things as atmospheric
pressure, mineral content, magnetic fields and the electrical currents of planets,
asteroids, ships etc. That pretty much limited her abilities.
So much for the good their ‘generosity’ afforded her, she thought.
Ysbryd heard there was a male humanoid seeking a crew. She had searched this
planet thoroughly and now needed a way to move on. Because of her present
‘condition’ (which is how she referred to being organically contained) she had been
forced to use many means to continue her search. Signing on to some of the most
despicable voyagers and doing whatever was necessary, being only one of them.
“Now to find this human called ‘Bastable’, Captain of the Hyperion's Cutlass, and
commence with my quest” Ysbryd spoke aloud as she entered the little casino
called “Gil’s Gold Mine”.
Reply by Therese
Ysbryd, glanced round the room, then closed her eyes in concentration as she
filtered through the clamour of voices to 'sense' if she could pick up on this Bastable
Fitzwiggins.
Most of the conversations concerned cargo, trade of various commodities, drunken
revelry and a few whispered proposals.
Since her abilities were limited to within a few feet, and having ‘heard’ nothing
relevant to what she sought, she opened her eyes, then began scanning the faces
to see if one of them actually looked the part of a Captain, although she never really
relied on the outward appearance of a being.
She had learned (and still did not understand the reasoning of most inhabitants in
this universe) that surface visage rarely told of what lay beneath. Even the most
beautiful of creatures could hold venomous intent (both in terms of being poisonous
in substance, as well as in purpose.)
Rather than stand there and become an obstacle, Ysbryd walked over to a seat at
a corner table, sat down and ordered a Friesian float from the menu.
She fidgeted.
After having been sentenced to ‘wear’ this human form, she never grew accustomed
to it.
What she especially disliked was clothing.
Where the edges of it rubbed her skin was of a particular nuisance.
Actually, she preferred not wearing any at all, but in most worlds she had visited,
save but a few, some amount of clothing seemed mandatory. Not only for protection
from the elements but in some cases for modesty, or to denote hierarchy as well as
simply style.
Ysbryd was tall, slim and anatomically appeared as a female humanoid save for the
pale ‘skin’ that covered and held Ysbryd’s internal structure together. This was
pearlescent (for lack of a better descriptive colour, as it was difficult to explain; her
‘essence’ shone through) and slightly translucent, just barely so, enough to see her
major organs, especially her heart as it contracted rhythmically when calm and at
rest.
That gave another reason for her to be covered as not only did it appear strange to
some, but it was a sure give-away, her heart betraying when she was under stress
or emotionally provoked (another thing she never fully controlled within this new
embodiment. It at times exasperated her. So unlike her true form which was that of
thought and emotion unfettered.)
Her hair was also opaline in colour and reached to her waist, but she kept it swept
up and beneath a cap. Her eyes were soft, pale pastel grey/green.
As she sat, sipping her drink and wondering if she would ever find Captain
Fitzwiggins, or if she would need to look for an alternative transport off this twll cachu of a planet, she suddenly felt a surge of energy flood through her, almost as
if she herself were being scanned....
Reply by Therese
Not seeing, nor sensing anything further or anyone that seemed remotely like whom
she was seeking, Ysbryd finished her drink, paid it’s cost, rose and left Gil's Gold
Mine in search of another way off the planet.
Taking several side-steps around a human wall holding a helmet, which was nearly
blocking her exit, she entered the streets in what was yet another false hope.
To avoid some type of scuffle going on with whatever policed this district, she dared
not return from whence she had originally come, Ysbryd quickened her pace and
headed in the opposite direction.
Not that she feared the authority.
She was not ‘wanted’ in this dimension, only in her own, thus the urgent need to find
a way back and clear her name.
A thought crossed her mind as she hastily worked her way through the crowded
streets ‘merched yn cael cooties.’ It brought a smile to her lips.
(The last two sentences above were a snark at the fact I was the only female participating in this all
male RP, and felt rather alienated. It was also why I left it. And let it be known, I was not, nor have I ever had cooties ;)
Ysbryd had no need to use telesthesia, as beneath the garish lights of the district
she literally saw the huge shadow on the ground in front of her, engulfing her own.
Someone was following her.
She moved, all the faster, until her shadow became singular once again.
As she entered an area where the light no longer penetrated, she felt a tap on her
shoulder followed by ‘Excuse me ma'am’ which was all she heard while instinctively
pivoting about on her heal, raising her hand, palm outward, and closing her eyes as
she pushed at the air between her and the shadowman.
He listed backwards a bit, but remained upright, riveted to the ground.
She tried again, this time tapping deeper into her psyche.
He stumbled back a few inches, but was not flung 20 feet, as he should have been.
This colossus was not going to be easy to dispatch.
It required a different approach.
Ysbryd looked past him towards where they had just come from, pointed (just as a
flash of déjà vu entered her mind of another pointer, in another world, in another
time, in another life) and said “Well, would you look at that!”
As the man turned to see what she was pointing at, Ysbryd darted away, into the
crowd and as an afterthought, psychically blocked the entire experience from his
mind, as well as his little companion’s mind too.
The above was my last entry in the RP, the character being carried over to the Queen Bran's Revenge RP.
Ysbryd glided past the ‘citizens’ of this fates forsaken planet almost unnoticed, as
she had done on many others in this dimension, seeking a way to return home.
She had no idea if she could even find testament to clear her of the charges that
exiled her here, let alone return to Nef, the dimension from which she came.
Thank the Dduwiau, this universe was only one parallel strand away from hers.
Not that it mattered.
Her unwarranted punishment (as if exile alone was not sufficient) had made her
corporeal enough to be seen clearly by these ‘others’, but not enough to blend in
entirely as one of them.
In her world, form was inconsequential. Essence was all.
If she could not clear her name, in this thread, this nightmarish existence, she would
eventually just fade into total obscurity and then end, like many other species she
had come across in her travels.
What happened to them in their aftertime was a mystery, but there was the belief
that they too reverted to a pure state, after having been trapped in their multitude of
various embodiments.
In her world, there was no end unless one wished it to be so and then they just
dispersed into tranquility.
She despised this humanoid body, as well as it’s mode of travel. These spindles the
‘others’ called ‘legs’, were most annoying. Especially since just a thought, in her own
world, was all that was necessary for transport.
And then there was this persistent need for sustenance to keep it all functioning
optimally, not to mention the thing that disgusted her the most- elimination of waste.
There was a legend, in her own dimension, of a man who voluntarily entered this
strand, a trans-dimensional inter-exploratory scientist who, although knowing the
way to return, chose to stay after becoming enamored with a female human.
Stuff and nonsense most likely, she thought to herself, but since there was always
some small amount of truths in legend, it was her only hope in discovering a way
home.
Then she could find the one who betrayed and falsely incriminated her and thus
restore her honour.
At least, when she was imprisoned in this state, her condemners permitted her to
keep partial psionics, such as ‘perception of intent’ which helped to weed out whom
she could and could not trust (as well as to hopefully distinguish the one she
sought), along with a decent amount of ‘persuasive influence’ and ‘telekinesis’.
The only problem being, all were dependent on such things as atmospheric
pressure, mineral content, magnetic fields and the electrical currents of planets,
asteroids, ships etc. That pretty much limited her abilities.
So much for the good their ‘generosity’ afforded her, she thought.
Ysbryd heard there was a male humanoid seeking a crew. She had searched this
planet thoroughly and now needed a way to move on. Because of her present
‘condition’ (which is how she referred to being organically contained) she had been
forced to use many means to continue her search. Signing on to some of the most
despicable voyagers and doing whatever was necessary, being only one of them.
“Now to find this human called ‘Bastable’, Captain of the Hyperion's Cutlass, and
commence with my quest” Ysbryd spoke aloud as she entered the little casino
called “Gil’s Gold Mine”.
Reply by Therese
Ysbryd, glanced round the room, then closed her eyes in concentration as she
filtered through the clamour of voices to 'sense' if she could pick up on this Bastable
Fitzwiggins.
Most of the conversations concerned cargo, trade of various commodities, drunken
revelry and a few whispered proposals.
Since her abilities were limited to within a few feet, and having ‘heard’ nothing
relevant to what she sought, she opened her eyes, then began scanning the faces
to see if one of them actually looked the part of a Captain, although she never really
relied on the outward appearance of a being.
She had learned (and still did not understand the reasoning of most inhabitants in
this universe) that surface visage rarely told of what lay beneath. Even the most
beautiful of creatures could hold venomous intent (both in terms of being poisonous
in substance, as well as in purpose.)
Rather than stand there and become an obstacle, Ysbryd walked over to a seat at
a corner table, sat down and ordered a Friesian float from the menu.
She fidgeted.
After having been sentenced to ‘wear’ this human form, she never grew accustomed
to it.
What she especially disliked was clothing.
Where the edges of it rubbed her skin was of a particular nuisance.
Actually, she preferred not wearing any at all, but in most worlds she had visited,
save but a few, some amount of clothing seemed mandatory. Not only for protection
from the elements but in some cases for modesty, or to denote hierarchy as well as
simply style.
Ysbryd was tall, slim and anatomically appeared as a female humanoid save for the
pale ‘skin’ that covered and held Ysbryd’s internal structure together. This was
pearlescent (for lack of a better descriptive colour, as it was difficult to explain; her
‘essence’ shone through) and slightly translucent, just barely so, enough to see her
major organs, especially her heart as it contracted rhythmically when calm and at
rest.
That gave another reason for her to be covered as not only did it appear strange to
some, but it was a sure give-away, her heart betraying when she was under stress
or emotionally provoked (another thing she never fully controlled within this new
embodiment. It at times exasperated her. So unlike her true form which was that of
thought and emotion unfettered.)
Her hair was also opaline in colour and reached to her waist, but she kept it swept
up and beneath a cap. Her eyes were soft, pale pastel grey/green.
As she sat, sipping her drink and wondering if she would ever find Captain
Fitzwiggins, or if she would need to look for an alternative transport off this twll cachu of a planet, she suddenly felt a surge of energy flood through her, almost as
if she herself were being scanned....
Reply by Therese
Not seeing, nor sensing anything further or anyone that seemed remotely like whom
she was seeking, Ysbryd finished her drink, paid it’s cost, rose and left Gil's Gold
Mine in search of another way off the planet.
Taking several side-steps around a human wall holding a helmet, which was nearly
blocking her exit, she entered the streets in what was yet another false hope.
To avoid some type of scuffle going on with whatever policed this district, she dared
not return from whence she had originally come, Ysbryd quickened her pace and
headed in the opposite direction.
Not that she feared the authority.
She was not ‘wanted’ in this dimension, only in her own, thus the urgent need to find
a way back and clear her name.
A thought crossed her mind as she hastily worked her way through the crowded
streets ‘merched yn cael cooties.’ It brought a smile to her lips.
(The last two sentences above were a snark at the fact I was the only female participating in this all
male RP, and felt rather alienated. It was also why I left it. And let it be known, I was not, nor have I ever had cooties ;)
Ysbryd had no need to use telesthesia, as beneath the garish lights of the district
she literally saw the huge shadow on the ground in front of her, engulfing her own.
Someone was following her.
She moved, all the faster, until her shadow became singular once again.
As she entered an area where the light no longer penetrated, she felt a tap on her
shoulder followed by ‘Excuse me ma'am’ which was all she heard while instinctively
pivoting about on her heal, raising her hand, palm outward, and closing her eyes as
she pushed at the air between her and the shadowman.
He listed backwards a bit, but remained upright, riveted to the ground.
She tried again, this time tapping deeper into her psyche.
He stumbled back a few inches, but was not flung 20 feet, as he should have been.
This colossus was not going to be easy to dispatch.
It required a different approach.
Ysbryd looked past him towards where they had just come from, pointed (just as a
flash of déjà vu entered her mind of another pointer, in another world, in another
time, in another life) and said “Well, would you look at that!”
As the man turned to see what she was pointing at, Ysbryd darted away, into the
crowd and as an afterthought, psychically blocked the entire experience from his
mind, as well as his little companion’s mind too.
The above was my last entry in the RP, the character being carried over to the Queen Bran's Revenge RP.
I will add more presently, I am just tired and bleary-eyed from being at this and book five of the QBR RP all day.
Next, Therese's departure.....
Therese looked around.
There was nothing, absolutely nothing, as far as the eye could see no matter which direction she turned.
All 360 degrees, nothing.
Not a tree, or a bush, no buildings nor towers, nothing, just a desolate Expanse of....nothing. Besides all the nothingness, there were no sounds, either. Did I mention, nothing?
Therese was unequivocally lost and alone.
Her mind was racing as fast as her pulse.
Trying desperately to calm herself and think rationally to override the swiftly mounting panic that was soon to take precedence if not...what was the last thing she remembered?
Yes, yes, it was jumping, or was it being pushed, through the gateway with her friends, but where were they?
Where was she?
She clearly remembered being told the gate portals would take a person where they were meant to be. Meant by whom?
Reality began to set in....
Therese was terrified.
If there was one thing in the world that frightened her the most, it was being alone. Well, that, and the dark. At least it wasn't dark, she thought as she plopped to the ground covered her face with her hands and began to cry, as all went...dark.
She was being shook, earthquake she thought as she came to, until a bag was shoved under her chin, as a stringy drop of drool hit her cheek.
She knew that drool well.
‘Avacrisp?’
It was Gronkit, noshing crisps, as was his habit, and standing behind, almost of the same height, was that right jolly, well, actually rather grumpy, sarcastic and hoary, ancient um, dwarfish elf, the Warder.
‘Come, my dear’, he said in a very fatherly tone as he wiped the drool from her cheek with the edge of his sleeve and offered his hand to help her rise, ‘you are not lost, nor alone, you must never fear, for I will always find you.’ he added with a benevolent smile.
And with a wink of his eye and a twist of his head he gave me to know I had nothing to dread, then laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod...we were back in the library of the DWM.<(Which, might I add, initially stands for Divergent Worlds Machine and not any of the following: Divorced White Male, Desktop Window Manager, Doctor Who Magazine, Dynamic Wireless Medium, Digital Web Magazine, Desktop Window Manager, Dynamic Window Manager, Drilling Waste Management, Dandy-Walker Syndrome, Deutsche Waffen-und Munitionsfabriken, Dragon Warrior Monsters, Dead White Males, Directory of Women's Media, Dickless...I mean, Diskless Workstation Management, Department of Weights and Measures, Dynamic Workflow Management, Dielectric Waveguide Model, District Wildlife Manager, Deep Water Mine, Deutsche Waggon- und Maschinenbau, Dalit Women's Movement or Department of World Mission. Well, maybe a few of those, as well.)
There was nothing, absolutely nothing, as far as the eye could see no matter which direction she turned.
All 360 degrees, nothing.
Not a tree, or a bush, no buildings nor towers, nothing, just a desolate Expanse of....nothing. Besides all the nothingness, there were no sounds, either. Did I mention, nothing?
Therese was unequivocally lost and alone.
Her mind was racing as fast as her pulse.
Trying desperately to calm herself and think rationally to override the swiftly mounting panic that was soon to take precedence if not...what was the last thing she remembered?
Yes, yes, it was jumping, or was it being pushed, through the gateway with her friends, but where were they?
Where was she?
She clearly remembered being told the gate portals would take a person where they were meant to be. Meant by whom?
Reality began to set in....
Therese was terrified.
If there was one thing in the world that frightened her the most, it was being alone. Well, that, and the dark. At least it wasn't dark, she thought as she plopped to the ground covered her face with her hands and began to cry, as all went...dark.
She was being shook, earthquake she thought as she came to, until a bag was shoved under her chin, as a stringy drop of drool hit her cheek.
She knew that drool well.
‘Avacrisp?’
It was Gronkit, noshing crisps, as was his habit, and standing behind, almost of the same height, was that right jolly, well, actually rather grumpy, sarcastic and hoary, ancient um, dwarfish elf, the Warder.
‘Come, my dear’, he said in a very fatherly tone as he wiped the drool from her cheek with the edge of his sleeve and offered his hand to help her rise, ‘you are not lost, nor alone, you must never fear, for I will always find you.’ he added with a benevolent smile.
And with a wink of his eye and a twist of his head he gave me to know I had nothing to dread, then laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod...we were back in the library of the DWM.<(Which, might I add, initially stands for Divergent Worlds Machine and not any of the following: Divorced White Male, Desktop Window Manager, Doctor Who Magazine, Dynamic Wireless Medium, Digital Web Magazine, Desktop Window Manager, Dynamic Window Manager, Drilling Waste Management, Dandy-Walker Syndrome, Deutsche Waffen-und Munitionsfabriken, Dragon Warrior Monsters, Dead White Males, Directory of Women's Media, Dickless...I mean, Diskless Workstation Management, Department of Weights and Measures, Dynamic Workflow Management, Dielectric Waveguide Model, District Wildlife Manager, Deep Water Mine, Deutsche Waggon- und Maschinenbau, Dalit Women's Movement or Department of World Mission. Well, maybe a few of those, as well.)
(And thank you, Clement Clarke Moore wherever you are, for the use of a few of your lines.)
So having retrieved Therese, and along with the ever disgruntled Gronkit (though that was merely for show, secretly it was the happiest he had ever been in his glib goblin life) who had become an *ahem* 'assinsistant' librarian, they were back at the Divergent Worlds Machine, where the tiny sentient automata had awaited them with eager delight.
There were many other adventures they embarked upon, for the DWM was the doorway to one's imagination, boundless, eternal, the only one true freedom, and, for Therese, it was home. Her happily forever after, where there was always tea, biscuits and true friends.
Sadly, things did not go as well for Ysbryd-Mewnol Tragwyddol.
Ysbryd awoke to find she was back in her own dimension, although still constrained within her prison of flesh.
The conscience of one of the conspirators that gave the false testimony which condemned an innocent, could bear it no longer and confessed not only their own involvement, but all those involved.
Ysbryd’s name was cleared of all accusations, but the sentence of confinement could not be undone.
She would remain with her people, as they felt the world of the fleshers was too harsh a punishment, and be provided the necessities to exist in her current state until the time came for
her cell to expire.
It was against her people’s belief to interrupt the natural order of things, and end her bodily form before it’s time.
Ysbryd would live out her remaining days in a tangible form amongst the intangible...