CitrusArms

Seeking Groups or 1x1 for a Space Fantasy - UC, maybe forever? C'mon in

There's a whole timeline of good places to play in. If you wanna play in the Scourge Invasion, that's gonna be some Aoocalyptic Horror Sci-Fi. Playing during the Gaian Solidarity emergence is going to be a lot more hopeful with magitech and magic powers and crystal ships. There will still be fighting against the Scourge on occasion, but they're a lot less scary with the Solidarity around.

I'm gonna be writing this out a bit more after I get back from work.

Seeking Groups or 1x1 for a Space Fantasy - UC, maybe forever? C'mon in

Under Construction, babeeee, we're claiming space for the front page! This might be enough.

Gaian Solidarity

Seeking Groups or 1x1 for a Space Fantasy - UC, maybe forever? C'mon in

How many of these do I want, again...?

The Ashes of Terra

Seeking Groups or 1x1 for a Space Fantasy - UC, maybe forever? C'mon in

Structure claim

The Silence

Seeking Groups or 1x1 for a Space Fantasy - UC, maybe forever? C'mon in

Structure claim

The Invasion

Seeking Groups or 1x1 for a Space Fantasy - UC, maybe forever? C'mon in

Structure claim

The Golden Age

Seeking Groups or 1x1 for a Space Fantasy - UC, maybe forever? C'mon in

In the centuries following the assault and destruction of interstellar society, the empires of the galactic stage fragmented under the weight of distance. Amidst scattered stars and ruined infrastructure, worlds once bound by Jump Drives found themselves isolated, their critical machines running silently.

In forgotten corners of collapsing societies, the Scourge still lingered, consuming whatever useful material it could lay its foul intentions on.

Yet there is hope.

In places yet rich in life, a strange new, sky-blue crystal began to emerge. Reactor Stone, some would call it, for a small sample could fuel a reactor for some time. This versatile material would prove invaluable against the Scourge: desperation saw the material used as a laser focus to tremendous effect against a Scourge Armored Walker.

From the dead zone of the old Terran Empire came great crystal vessels in formation around an island ripped from a planet and centered around a massive tree, great deposits of the sky-blue crystal among its roots. They called themselves Gaians, they called the material Aevon. They claimed the Scourge would return, and that their "Aeva" could save them all.

---

Welcome to this work-in-progress interest thread centered around my original setting! Please, come in, have a seat. Tea?

This is a large-scale setting with multiple eras suitable for RP, depending on the tone and style people are interested in exploring.

The Golden Age
Before the Scourge. Before the collapse. A vast age of advanced interstellar civilization. Artificial intelligence, replicators, personal shielding, anti-gravity technology, Jump Drives, towering starships and sprawling galactic powers. Some places are utopian, some are dystopian, and most are somewhere in between. Think classic high sci-fi adventure on a galactic scale.

The Fall
The apocalypse itself. The Scourge arrives from beyond known space, appearing seemingly without warning. Entire systems vanish into silence. Fleets burn. Worlds die. There are few victories, and every battle feels hopeless — but surrender means extinction.

The Fracturing
Jump Drives no longer function. Their reality-bending mechanisms now overload and fail the moment activation begins. In the long Silence following the apocalypse, isolated worlds and star systems struggle to survive alone, cut off from trade, aid, and communication. New cultures emerge from the ruins as civilizations adapt to isolation.

The Ashes of Old Terra
Deep within the dead zone of the former Terran Empire, life still stirs. Small pockets of survivors endure upon the ruins of humanity's cradle. Amid shattered arcologies, buried megacities, and overgrown relics of the old age, people struggle to rebuild and reach for the stars once more.

The Terraship
Deep within the ruins of the former Terran Empire, the Gaians cultivated something unprecedented: a colossal vessel grown around an island-sized landmass and an immense crystal-bearing tree. Part sanctuary, part mobile colony, and part living warship, the Terraship roams the forgotten regions of Terran space alongside a growing escort fleet.

From this wandering cradle, small Gaian diplomatic teams are dispatched to lost colonies and isolated worlds. Some arrive as traders, some as healers, some as wandering mystics bearing fragments of sky-blue crystal and impossible technology. Their purpose is not conquest, but preparation — guiding fractured civilizations toward reconnecting with the stars through the power of Aevon.

The Gaian Emergence
A lone vessel drops into the fringes of civilized space from an impossible trajectory, having crossed the stars faster than light without the use of a Jump Drive. The corvette-sized craft appears to be made entirely of Reactor Stone, and upon arrival annihilates a small Scourge fleet threatening a planetary defense force.

The ship comes bearing a message: The galaxy must unite or fall to the Scourge.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

It was the way the dutiful man had looked at her longer than necessary, the way the rise of his shoulders had slowed and lengthened with his breath, the way the conflicted, anxious emotions on his face seemed to dissolve as he looked at her.

When he turned, Stratya’s eyes followed the bronze gaze to a wound-up Marina. The princess’s eye twitched. The captain wasn’t sure what to expect of that, but it wasn’t to be called, “allurring and darrling,” she repeated to herself softly, amused. A soft giggle and wave of her fingers was the attention she left for Marina as she came back to Ambrose, for a moment watching him carry out one last detail of his duty before he would set it aside, ever so briefly; For her, or perhaps his escape.

Stratya knew the guards were there. She’d checked them as soon as she’d walked away from that churchman, in case she had need of one. While he presented her the opportunity, she let her eyes wander over him. The strength he radiated was accentuated, yet also tamed, by the black and gold trimmed in red. She found her eye tracing his figure through the embroidery that framed it, all duty and power. When she returned, and he turned to her, when his bright eyes found hers once more, once more did he seem to soften. Suddenly, he seemed to belong somewhere else; fishing in the forest river, maybe, while she spooked fish toward him.

She couldn’t help a small chuckle at his dry wit. The little bit of laughter melted into a warm smile as she reached her hand for his, “o’ courrse. Serr Ambrrose.” A sheepishness passed through her expression as she corrected herself. Her steps, as the two of them moved onto the dance floor, would fall beside his, not in front or behind. “Forrtuna’ely, dance is one of t’ things nobles do tha’ I’ve taken quite well tae.” As different as ballroom dancing was, it was still dancing.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Knight Devout
Captain Stratya Durmand

Time: 10th Ignis, Evening
Location: Castle Ballroom - Starry Night Ball
Attire: Military Dress
Accent: Thick Scottish
Interactions: @Redking0380 Fareed, @HylianRose Nikolai, @princess Misogynist Holy Man, @Oso Ambrose
Mentions: Varian gaggle, Nolan @Remram, Drake @Lava Alckon, Mina @Tae

The very tall fellow with the suave moustache paused, thinking a moment before deciding it wasn’t so bad. Stratya didn’t bother to study him. She listened with care, listening for the nuance to him - wondering if, perhaps, he had decided to spare her feelings.

She huffed softly, humored, as he finished his point, “you mean tae tell me I shouldnae carre.” That was probably best. Her head bobbed agreeably before her name drew her gaze over her shoulder, “oh? Aah, grree’in’s.” The Captain smiled with a warm chuckle. Fareed introduced himself, and Stratya spoke first in response, “this is Serr Nikolai, of Varrian. Ooh, Nik. We’ll ‘ave tae sparr sometime, I’d like tae see what ye’ve got.” There was a playful edge in her tone to match her grin when Charlotte Vikena’s name drew the captain’s attention away.

It was a name she’d been worried about; not just for the previous week, but because of what she’d read in the paper. She didn’t believe it. She had seen a surprising resolve from her, but still, worry settled in her gut like a stone.

Whatever the case, the night’s change in Charlotte was completely unexpected. The grin slowly slid from Stratya’s lips, simply because she’d forgotten it was there, stunned twofold as she was. “Hoo, gods, noble drresses arre..” she took a swig of her mead instead of finishing her sentence.

Her thoughts flitted, a similarity to Callum irritating her worry. There wasn’t a familiar to be seen, however. Something else? Or perhaps the critter conceals itself somewhere in her.. noo, no way. There wasn’t any place in that dress to-

“I suppose yerr rreyt, Farreed. I’ve go’ morre imporran’ things tae worry abou’. Like, perr’aps, how did it get cut?” She looked back at herself, fingers of her free hand finding that slash that had somehow made itself part of the uniform, “I doan figh’ in this, how.. ooooh..” her memory clicked, “tha’s rreyt, it was after I rrescued that poorr pup frrom t’ Grran’ Vizirr. Foul man, bein’ sae rrough with such a sweet thing. The owner misunderstood and attacked me. Were they misinformed, perr’aps..”

Captain Durmand shook her head free of the consideration, “aah, poin’ is. They attacked me with a peculiarr currved dagger. I’d ne’er fough’ a knife like tha’, so I guess it got thrrough my defense, a bit. Got me on t’ cheek, too, a bit. Is tha’ marrk still there?” she touched by her cheekbone where that curved dagger had nicked her, where the thin scar might yet be.

Idly, she scanned the ballroom, ears still attentive to conversation. Charlotte had gone right up to Cassius. Lucky guy, him. Her eyes next came to the Varian gaggle; Ambrose looked tense, more than duty or guard. Uneasy.

Their eyes met, but only briefly, before his attention was taken by a colliding body. It was Mina, the beautiful woman who had been working the charity auction. For her beauty, she only seemed to sour Ambrose’s disposition even further.

That whole group seemed sad. Well, that’s what court fools are for, right? What timing, Mr. Kazoo the Skip Meister.

She’d turned, ready to joke, and froze when she saw him: the man in black, eyes dangerously on her, smile slow and pleased. As he went on, Stratya’s leather glove creaked under the grip on her stein. Familiar, hot anger rose under her breast, like a blade begging to be freed. The cleric’s sharp words were a knife in the heart of a night that had finally started to mend.

She didn’t flinch. “Men like you belong out o’ my sight.” He spoke of order and places; she’d been in many places men preferred to be themselves. That must be the rebellion he referred to.

Despicable and disgusting as he was, there was a truth. Her Queen was gone. Who would stand for her now? Could she bring herself to seek Wulfric? Could he shield her, from tradition and from Edin?

The helplessness sat strangely in her bones.

“Perr’aps I shall dance, however,” she stepped forward and reached. Her hand slipped deliberately past his and she moved him out of her way with the back of her arm to advance beyond, “jus’ nae with you.”

She moved purposefully, eager to leave the priest and whatever ideas he had in his head far behind her. As she approached the Varian clique, her pace slowed and her stride became more gentle, her eyes greeting whoever looked her way warmly - she would offer Marina a wink - before her attention settled on Ambrose as she stood at a cozy distance. “Ambrrose,” a gentle, coaxing call for his attention, though she was certain he’d have noticed her already, vigilant as he was. “Would you dance with me?”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Knight Devout
Captain Stratya Durmand

Time: 10th Ignis, Evening
Location: Castle Ballroom - Starry Night Ball
Attire: Military Dress
Accent: Thick Scottish
Interactions: @Redking0380 Fareed
Mentions:

Stratya had been addressing the servant. The curious “hm?” that came from her as she turned should indicate that, “oh, well, if yerr nae fussed tae eat with th’ staff in th’ morrnin’. Got tae do somethin’ with all that brread, anyway. I rrememberr how dreadful some guard details can be, aye? At least then, y’ might get tae stand outside, instead of standin’ by an’ watchin’. The castle guards ‘ave it rrough, only able tae stand an’ watch all this food ‘n drrink.”

The varied skilled of Alidasht craftsmen interested the captain, and she found herself curious of what the man meant when he said requests were wildly varied in feasibility, but before she could really pose a question to him,

“... current state of dress is atrocious…”

The swallow of mead she’d just taken was the last, her lips shut and her stein tilted down,

“..mistake covered in flamboyance…”

Her stein lowered and was met with her left hand, holding it steady in front of her as she took a glance or two around the room. She could feel her cheeks flushing, and it wasn’t the alcohol.

“..charlatan seamstress.”

Swords and arrows? Sure. Twenty men in battle? More? Fine! Making a bleedin’ fool of herself despite her station and all the necks stuck out for her?

She was blushing, embarrassed and disappointed in herself for having been so sloppy in her presentation this evening, “.. is it tha’ bad?”

Garcian’s right again, huh?