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Capella

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About Capella

  • Birthday 02/03/1989

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  • Pronouns
    she/her
  • Location
    Rochester, NY
  • Guild
    Analysts

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  1. He walks in the ashes of nine thousand years, and despairs. What D'ni hands have wrought remains, and yet no D'ni are there to honor it. The sound of his footfalls bouncing between the buildings is louder than he's ever heard it before, magnified a thousandfold by the lack of the other sounds of inhabitation. Once, the cavern had been full of hundreds of soft noises overlapping each other - footsteps, the brush of fabric, the murmuring of voices, stone against stone as doors opened or closed - forming a continual susurrus of sound. Now it lies silent, absent of all motion, the only sounds the ones of his making. He stares across the lake at Kerath's Arch, still illuminated though none have been here to change the lights, and marvels at how solid D'ni engineering is. So much of the city is undamaged and operational, even after a century of abandonment. He wonders how many lifetimes it will take before lights begin to gutter, doors begin to cease to open, the stagnation complete. He fancies that the machinery continuing to operate is the city's last struggles, in the way that a dead animal may still continue to breathe and move for some time. He wonders if his presence is the last glimmer of consciousness the city will ever know. - - - He finds the city at once both familiar and utterly alien. Ae'gura is as he recalls it, even with the damage wreaked by quake, the rockfalls that block stairs or the gaping chasms that force detours. And yet the emptiness of the streets renders them unrecognizable. Now, as he looks over the abandoned ferry terminal, a vast expanse of stone punctuated by spiderwebbed breaks and rubble where once there was a bustling crowd of proud men, he understands. D'ni without its people is a skeleton without its flesh. - - - May we rebuild structures... He assesses the damage with a critical eye. The bones may be broken, but they can be rebuilt. D'ni engineering has proven superior even to the seismic stresses that shook the cavern uncounted times in the last century. Even the shattered Guild Hall, that center of D'ni supremacy, can be brought back to its glory - in time. But it will require more hands than his own, more time than his life has left to give. It will require the assistance of others in order to live again. He must find others who can restore it to life. He cannot be the only one who lived, who burns with the need to bring light back to the city and rebuild the toppled structures. He merely needs to find others, and then they can begin. - - - She wishes him to hear of pride, of greed, of a D'ni that overreached and fell because of its ambition and blindness. She is wrong. She is of the blood that brought them low, an impure mongrel, and yet she claims to fulfil the prophecy reserved for the savior of the people! He has longed to hear words from another person for nearly two centuries now, but now that he has found one, he makes himself deaf to her. She is not the way forward, only a reminder of the mistakes that has felled them low. She speaks of how others will come, and through them D'ni will thrive again. Grow again. Live again. He will not hear. Acceptance of outworlders is not the answer. We will not make the same mistake again.
  2. Well, it's February and not much talk has happened about rules, so how does this sound? -Must fill one of the prompts -Submissions due on March 1 -Must be at least 500 words
  3. What do we mean by history-focused? The goal of this fest is to fill in times that we don't have much information about - periods not covered in the games or the books. The two biggest periods are 0 DE to the Book of Ti'ana (or D'ni while it stood) and post Book of D'ni to the beginning of Uru. All the information available about these times comes from journal entries and other types of relayed to us history, so seeing some stories set in this period would flesh it out. What are some examples? A prompt about Yeesha's time alone in D'ni would fit in, as would a tale about the DRC sometime between 1990 and when authorized explorers made it down.
  4. MYSTCommunity and the Guild of Archivists are working together to organize a fanfiction event. If you've been missing writing Myst, this is a time to change that. Here's what we know: -It will be prompt based -It's history focused -hosted here on the Guild of Archivist forums -It happens the month of February Here's what we'd like input on: -A list of prompts -Challenge rules and structure (things like word count boundaries) -Any awesome ideas you have on how to make this work smoothly So, who's up for some writing time?
  5. Title: The Grand Design Author: Capella Rating: G Time Period: Post BoT, pre BoA Spoilers and Warnings: for BoT Word Count: 996 Summary: Alone in the desert, Anna moves on. Notes: Inspired to a certain extent by "The Last Resort" by The Eagles, particularly the lines "cause there is no more new frontier / We have got to make it here". Because if Anna is good at anything, it's making it work, wherever she is. This is a chance to know myself, she repeats to herself whenever loneliness threatens to overwhelm her. Most of the days, she doesn't need to. She has a routine that, though it rarely varies, is nevertheless comforting in its familiarity, like the finely-woven robe she wears before bed at night, when the sun has set and the chill sweeps over the desert. It is one of the few physical items of D'ni she still possesses, and it reminds her of Aitrus' surprise after their visit to the surface- that a place so sun-scorched by day could become cold at night had fascinated him. She cares for it with the utmost reverence, the same way she cares for everything here. She is not entirely unaware of the passing of time, retiring to bed when it's dark, noting the tiny shifts in the environment that marks the change of the seasons. But she doesn't put any effort into tracking the days, not as she once had done. Instead she loses herself in work, the task list seemingly never-ending for a single person. (She refuses to admit that; it is too close to regret and loss.) There are stretches of time, she doesn't know how long, where it barely even hurts anymore. It is blisteringly hot outside, the summer at its peak, and today is a day where she will not leave the shelter of the rooms. She has been feeling a compulsion to decorate, so today she has an arrangement of newly-made earthenware vessels that are plain. She sits at the rough-hewn table and begins to work, her hands precise and economical of movement, sharp contrast with the way her mind darts from whimsy to notion, a small animal chasing after an item tossed on the wind. She needs these days when she can take a break from the tasks needed to survive and allow herself to enjoy whatever she fancies. The mind needs time to relax, she'd been told over and over by her father, who preferred quiet contemplation. Young Anna had always sought external stimulation to spark her imagination. Now, older and wiser, she treasures the moments where her mind could explore whatever it wanted, unfettered by anything outside of herself - a lesson she'd taken too long to learn. Today her mind pictures water. Waves crashing against a rocky shore, the white spray leaping into the air above the dark grey stone, hanging for a single perfect moment, and falling. It is easy to smell salt on the air, imagine a cool breeze blowing against her face, hear the rhythm of the waves as they come in to beat against the shore and then be pulled out again by the tide. Whenever she imagines places, she does it this way, as she always has. Building an entire world in her mind, vivid with all the sensory details she can muster to make it as real as she possibly could, has been second nature to her forever. As a child, it had allowed her to view many environments that she had read about in books, but that she had never actually seen. Down in D'ni, it had been useful for her to keep her sanity in the weeks she spent in the prison cell. And when she and Aitrus had planned Gemedet, then this ability of hers flowered to its fullest; what was lovingly created and nurtured in the soil of her mind had been translated into the world, the real world, brought into being from her pictures and their thoughts and his pen. And what a world they had brought into being between them! Lost, now, just like Aitrus, just like D'ni, just like their son- She opens her eyes, feeling none of the refreshment from her brief mental jaunt that she had expected, marred as it was by pain. She looks down at the pottery under her hands, surprised that it has been worked on this entire time. She has unconsciously begun to paint D'ni garohevtee around the outside of the bowl, and the fact that the designs she reaches for unconsciously are from D'ni strikes a painful chord in her heart. Life in the Cleft has felt cold and empty, and suddenly Anna realizes that what has been bothering her is not the starkness of the desert; it's the feelings inside that paint the outside bleak, not the other way around. She gently wraps the bowl in a cloth and puts it in the very back of the storage room. It's not the bowl's fault that its maker has uncertainties, and she's sure she'll want it again soon enough. And no point in the wasting of good material, either; she is practical as always. She returns to her table to mix more pigments to work on painting the next item, and she vows that this time, it will be different. Deliberately she chooses bold bright colors of earth for today's pigment, reds and oranges and yellows, and she chooses to use the geometric patterns she recalls seeing in the city of her youth, when her father used to take her to see the merchants. Another day, whether it be months or years from now, perhaps she will be able to decorate her pottery in the form of D'ni without pain. Now, though, she resolves with a sudden burst of renewed energy, now will be a time for new beginnings, for reassembling her life again. Anna is a survivor; she has done it before, she will do it again. To celebrate new beginnings, she finds it appropriate that she has decided to reach back in time, for the old patterns of her youth. She thinks Aitrus would approved of them, and for the first time feels warmth - not loss - in her breast. Ah, at the end, we return to where we came, and find it changed. Or is it I that have changed? The ending is not yet written- there's life in my bones yet.
  6. The inter-article single text linking thing looks amazing. I always get intimidated by wikis because I'm not fluent in how to edit them and link between things; having it as simple as you've made it is fantastic.
  7. Capella

    Eti

    Appears In: Riven (mentioned) Race: Rivenese Eti is a female member of the Moiety rebellion against Gehn, who had been a close friend of Catherine's prior to Gehn's entrapment and Atrus and Catherine's escape from Riven. Catherine remarks in her journal on Eti's changing attitude towards her, noting that sometimes she is uncomfortable with Catherine and other times it is like it was before Catherine left Riven.
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