[hider=Color CS for those who haven’t seen] [hider=The Colour in your Face] A summary of what has happened in the past six months regarding Gattania and the Colour: On a late winter day (as it is now mid summer) the sky opened up over the center of Gattania, only a few miles from the capital of Whitehead, named so after either the neighboring mountain or the booming dairy industry surrounding the largely agricultural center of the nation. From the opening a large beam of light struck a prominent lake surrounded by farmland. Soon after a meteor came rocketing out of the sky, guided by the light and slammed into the lake. The entire area erupted from the collision and the light beam was fractured into previously unknown color that seemed glossy by nature. All that was left of the immediate area was a crater filled with the lake water, shimmers of unknown color snaking through its ripples, and the large meteor cresting above the water. Those who survived the impact but witnessed the fracture soon succumbed to gibberish, babbling, and overall madness, claiming to have seen something inside the color, that something was stuck on them. All examinations of the insane showed no signs of any physical damage but the insanity persisted. Glass like globules colored that strange color were found floating in the lake. Upon fracturing under examination they would shatter and then slowly shrink into nothing. Samples of the almost clay like meteor were taken, but the material would burn itself away in a matter of days. Some globules were left untouched, fearful of losing all evidence of the impact, as the meteor itself had started to shrink much like the samples. That month spring came early to the farming lands, and crops bloomed months ahead of time. The entire nation had its eyes on the farming area, as barrels upon barrels of massive fruits, larger than any season before hand were brought into Whitehead for selling. The plants those few months were a glorious sight, thick and strong, and bearing more than one harvest in a matter of weeks. It was incredible, so much so it even seemed like the trees were waving in the wind when there was no wind, as if moving by themselves. Alas, things were not perfect: the fruit was bitter, disgusting, and vile. Buckets of the fruits and vegetables were thrown into the streets, the surplus disgusting. Farmers were forced to have to eat the fruits of their labors while the city refused. Then everything came crashing down. City folk had started to be curious of the sudden taste of the well water, strands of that color being found in each pail, and the farming folk had started to show more signs of insanity, madness starting to grow outside the city has animals began to mutate, milk began to spoil before it was even taken from the cow, and the trees began to take on a dark, grey color, laced with strands of that unknown glossy colour. Some people started raving, ranting, babbling, and so they were locked away. Farmers grew suspicious of everyone as their family members started to be confiscated by the government out of fear of some unknown disease among them. Some children and those of improper mind were being found drowned in the lake, along with dogs and horses. Soon the outbreak of insanity hit the streets of the city, vague and cryptic words being yelled about the colors, demons, things stuck on their skin and in their minds. The animals in the farms began to disintegrate much like the plant life. Cows legs would crumble, a person’s nose would fall off, and to show for it would be a pile of dust and a vapor of that unknown color escaping the pile. People claimed the lake pulsed at night, even glowing slightly, some claimed the well water was doing it too now. People began to flee as this plague was spreading out of Whitehead and the Farmland to other cities and towns, first the crops would come in, then everything would collapse. People were being driven mad by the sights, strange dreams, headaches and events, and those who weren’t were smart enough to leave. Fugitives both insane and sane were escaping Gattania as the events suddenly took over the entire country. The last words of the monarch before he collapsed into a pile of dust were raving mad rambles about something in the water. Those closest to sources of water seemed to lose their minds first as the plague erupted across the entire nation, until the colour had turned all to dust, leaving only hordes of the insane to escape the wasteland, some partially disintegrated themselves, some physically fine, but mentally belligerent, none to be reasoned with. Gattania today consists of a dust wasteland, fit with rain showers of the colour, and hordes of partially disintegrated inhuman maniacs that will attack all on sight. Hordes of the latter are now escaping Gattania, and pose a threat to the livelihood of all that are sane. [Hider=Color traits] Increased time in areas affected by the color causes headaches and strange dreams Area’s near water experience faster contamination Wearing a mask in color deserts (areas completely disintegrated) [u]may[/u] help marginally with immediate infection Water laced with the color pulses at night if in great abundance. Does not react to music or religious symbols Mutates animals For event timeline on how things react when infected, read the events of Gattania above. [/hider] [/hider] I'm hoping this covers all the bases, but since I'm not perfect, it might not have and thus is always subject to change (albeit minor) [/hider] The room was dim, the still night air hung thick with emotion too sick to be expressed. A glossy colour of an unknown type pulsed furiously behind the dull eyes of the dying monarch. The King barely sat in his throne as he leaned forward pleadingly, his mouth agape to expel a baritone moan of pain, a stark contrast to the river of insanities he had been spouting the last month. Gattania was crumbling, and so was her leader. The groaning king reached out towards one of the other shadows that stood in the room of decay once seen as a pinnacle of luxury. Porcelain fingers wrapped around the growing wrinkles on the king’s hands, and the man looked up into the fresh eyes of the youthful daughter of the Count de Monet, Katherine de Monet. A prominent frown enraptured her face and tears swelled around her eyes. She caressed the face of the man turned mad infront of her, his mind gone in the same way her own fiancee’s had months earlier. She remembered the day this all began, the day her golden haired lover spout red faced accusations while he danced wildly around the town’s well, if only she had believed him then, maybe he would be… maybe the king would be… “Water…” The king stated more than requested, and a pang struck Katherines belly, all too knowing what he meant. “It’s in the water…” The king continued. Katherine just nodded, a warm tear wetting her cheek. “It’s under my skin…” Katherine knew the ramblings by heart, if not in the voice of the king, in the voice of a man long lost to the madness. “It’s in my brain…” “It’s under my feet…” “It won’t let go…” “Let me go.” The words were soft and pleading, like a child to their mother, or a whimpering puppy to its master. Then, in a moment of horror not lost to anyone, the king’s wail grew, and with a sudden gust from one of the bow windows, his body crumbled to a fine powder. His face turning to the colorful sand before Katherine’s fear struck eyes, the sick vapor of the color rising from what pile remained. Gone… the same way as her fiance, the same way as her father, the same was as Gattania. The wagon wheel struck a rock and Katherine was thrown out of her memories as the back of her head smacked the wall of the wagon. “Deep in thought?” The gruff voice of the driver, Jean, took her attention. “Just silly panderings is all,” The eloquent voice of Katherin responded, her own speech well versed and patterned to fit the ideals of aristocracy since a young age, yet her leather bound attire and green tunic brought the image of a common woodsman to mind instead, since the polish of wealth was long lost on the last remaining member of Gattanian nobility, it suited her just fine. “Silly? Come now, misewell share, it’s been a long ways to the Middenland and we all deserve a story or two.” “Katherine,” she said her own name, “it’s silly isn’t it? Katherine… Katherine… Katherine… my name is Katherine, isn’t that cute?” The driver turned his attention away from his horses and peered back at the woman with wide eyes, “M’lady?” “K-A-TH-E-RINE… it’s almost unreal, the more you say a word, the less meaning it has until you realize that you are what your name is, and your name is assigned to you.. A label… and mine begins with a “K” and sounds like “cat rasin” but with a “TH”.” “Fine I get it,” Jean rolled his eyes, “but you don’t have to be a dick about it.” “I told you,” Katherine leaned back, her eyes betraying her true thoughts as she peered at the moving landscape around her, “just silly ponderings.” Jean snorted, “well… welcome to the Middenlands.” --------- Coming soon: The General of the infected army IC IS NOW OPEN TO ALL!