RedTailedSoup

The veil between worlds tore open twice.

First it tore at the battle of the Somme in 1916, the mass death caused the veil to open and monsters and deities to enter—called Others. Whispers from beings beyond the veil brought magick (itself called Whispers) to many (called Casters), yet eat away their souls. The governments of the war decided to research and utilize things from beyond the veil, for better and worse.

A year later it tore in the Swiss Alps, an ancient and forgotten book protected by the last member of an old order of guardians was accidentally opened and unleashed the veil, tearing open the sky across the entire world. From there, numerous creatures overran and tore through the Western Alps.

A few months later, new technologies had been developed by both the Ententé and Quadruple Alliance. Pseuchetherimos, the utilization of human souls for power and destruction of veil-related life, by the Ententé—subsequently used in prosthetics, guns, and the expounders. Homunculuses, artificial creation of creatures for food, combat, the miszgestalten (monstrosities), and the dornröschen (little briar roses).

The expounders are large biomechanial suits of armor piloted by three soldiers created by Colonel Aerick Neight.

The miszgestalten and dornröschen are large formerly human creatures guided by the Übernatürliches Kommunionskorps (Supernatural Communion Corps) though the dornröschen are partially crystalline.

Near Yrpes and in the waking hours of December 25th, 1917, three large satchels were carted across no-mans-land and ignited, incurring a massive explosion that scorched a significant amount of Belgium (annihilating Brussels) and sent a shockwave all the way to the Netherlands. Germany surrendered and the Kaiser resigned a few days later.

By December 31st, 1917, the Reichstag was split between Imperial loyalists and UNKK loyalists to decide the future of the empire. Quickly the already spiraling situation erupted into civil war when the Imperial forces and UNKK forces began inconsistent skirmishes and multiple Socialist revolutions erupted across the nation—likely due to the UNKK military initiating an invasion of Normandy on January 3rd, 1917, and thus the continuing The Great War.

Currently the city of Rouen is mostly occupied and the city of Brest burns in a sudden outbreak of veil creatures. The world scrambles to fight this new stage of the war.

Oppy then took Broken outside to stargaze, relax a bit and think about something else

and of course Opportunist can't go 5 minutes without emphasizing his importance ;p

Some art idk lol

Like me, Cormac is a dissociative system. Though it's not super obvious which alter is fronting all the time, I figured I should explain who they are.

Cormac (host) -- sweet, thoughtful, and a talented writer. Incredibly fucking smart with a quiet but playful streak

Jackrabbit (trauma holder, protector) -- oriented around fight or flight, usually one of two to front when the body feels actively in danger. Spacey as all hell and doesn't talk much. Just stares.

Rags (persecutor, protector) -- the other alter to front when the body is in danger. Outwardly suppresses the rage and masks as Cormac, but is noticeably more tense. Has a good handle on violent impulses by writing about them, but since going to war has been a lot more willing to act on them in the heat of battle. Especially wants to stick it to the man.

Disabled munchkin girlie the beloved.

I don't talk a lot about my OC lore on here but she's a munchkin mix adopted into Stoneclan after her mother died in a fox attack. She aspired to be a warrior as a kit, but due to being part munchkin she began having pains and health issues associated with the breed. As such, she's been relegated to a medicine cat apprentice and is trying to navigate this change and come to terms that her life may not go as she originally planned.

Prologue. Interlude 1: Silver Berth

Astari heaves the Oht alloy rope, the metal muscle contracting to assist the courier, turning the tiller starboard and swinging their modest vessel into port. Biomechanical arms gently take hold of the ship, avoiding the interplanar sails folded nearly down on all four sides.

Talons digging into the metallic floor, Astari clambers to drag their cargo onto the wharf. Martian alchemistic supplies; fish from Tchao, a planet in the Ohtari plane of reality; and seeds from Earth.

“You! You! Please, I need to get to the intercomms!”

He turns to spot a large winged celtic lady running towards him, human aside from the wings. They could be an angel, but they’re not exactly glowing.

“Uh—are you okay?” He pivots, holding out arms to blunt the incoming trample.

Before the angel could trample Astari, she slams her foot down and shoots to skitter across the ground to the side of Astari—who promptly rushes to her side.

“Who are you, what’s going on!?” He looks over her wings, no damage.

“Peigi—Imitation Event—we need to find the intercomms—”

Astari’s head tilts, grasping for why it sounded so familiar.

TW: descriptions of blood and violent thoughts, cannibalism

Mitchell is an idiot and I want to hit him repeatedly in the back of the head with the butt of my rifle until he crumples and his blood spills red across the floor like the violet light across the sky. This is his fault and his folly and now the sky has a hole in it and we’re doomed.

How do I even describe this? I like to believe that I have a talent with writing, but the things I have seen today are so far beyond my comprehension that I do not think I could put them into words. One moment, I’m minding my own business, and the next there’s screaming everywhere as if the entire war is being blasted into my ears all at once. Eyes open where they should not be and everything is purple and we are huddling scared in a library like little animals.

I think we owe our lives to the four-eyed man who calls himself Varnish. I had my apprehensions about him at first – he is undoubtedly supernatural –  but he’s earned my complete respect after this. He is, without a doubt, braver than any of the soldiers I have met. I’m not sure how he managed this, but the only reason we have yet to be torn apart is because he shouted to the sky and begged to keep us safe. Thanks to him, we have been granted a day’s amnesty. It’s not much time, but I’m grateful for any at all.

He’s next to me right now, actually. I am writing this and pretending that I do not see how agitated he is because I don’t entirely understand what’s happening or what went wrong. It’s not just the sky opening that has him upset – it’s something else. Perhaps the way that other creature spoke to him? It – or rather she – got in through the window while we were cowering in a corner. She called him “sister” and a name I’m certain isn’t his, and it enraged him so much that he killed her on the spot and consumed all that remained of her. Calling it disturbing would be an understatement, but I myself am so distraught and bewildered by this entire situation that I don’t have the bandwidth to try searching for the right words.

I am trying not to look out the windows. I don’t want to see the hole in the sky. I don’t want to see what is screaming or roaring or making whatever other infernal sounds out there. I already know that it's not human, and I already know that the last thing I want is for it to find me.

I think the dead are circling outside, too, which is one more reason not to look.

I am scared.

I am so unbelievably fucking scared. 

I never could’ve dreamed I would say this, but I want to go home. 

Please let me go home.

I just want to go home.

Prologue. Part 1: Positive Phototaxis

The winter is dark and cold and I hate it, but at least I know how to cheer myself up.