Private Sensorium

*MimiFearthegn
Posts: 762
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *MimiFearthegn »


Sensory Stones that are deemed addictive, dangerous, or that simply contain sensitive information are kept in the Private Sensorium. While the sensorium is open to all Sensates, there are certain stones which even faction members require special permission to view.
*MimiFearthegn
Posts: 762
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *MimiFearthegn »


Vaati - anonymous donation
You are an immortal, having lived in the bodies of many humans before. Yet in the turmoil of battle, you are still afraid; too late a blow strikes you, and you are mortally wounded. You feel the life leaving your body. Reality fades slowly, and everything becomes dark. You feel like you're made of pure energy, floating somewhere in the nothingness. You want to scream, but you have no mouth. Time passes in the void. . .minutes, hours, days, weeks, months. . years? Who knows. . . the regrets, all the things you could have done better fill you with frustration. Then there is fear, your memories fade, keeping only the key moments. They get mixed with previous lives, and time passes in the void.

You think about the possibilities - what will the next life be? How much time as passed? What is the point? You think you can hear a whisper in the middle of the silence, calling you to give up, but you resist. It insists again and again, but then leaves you to the silence. Another eternity passes, and then suddenly a flash of light! Is it a new life?
*MimiFearthegn
Posts: 762
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *MimiFearthegn »


To be a Kaorti - Anonymous
The experience of being a kaorti, one of a race of creatures in the Far Realms which are said to have previously been human wizards. This stone has a very large warning label on it about possible harmful contents. No one should view it without supervision.
*MimiFearthegn
Posts: 762
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *MimiFearthegn »


Performance Eating, by Surna'qir
The experience of a drow being devoured by an illithid, from the perspective of an illithid, to the entertainment of fellow mind-linked illithids.
*DigitalDragoon
Posts: 212
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *DigitalDragoon »


Rescue Mission to Illias by Greg Aloysius Wolfinson
The viewer finds themselves suddenly looking through the eyes of a taller man. He is on the deck of a huge luxury liner, looking at Vyse, Brindas, and Lady Mir. As he looks over at lady Mir, thoughts surface that leave a lingering sensation of intimacy toward the woman. When looking over at his other companions, he recalls the looks on their faces when Elminster introduced himself.

He looks around the luxury liner blasting through the astral currents and thinks what a life he could have aboard a ship like this, smoking his pipe, drinking fine whiskeys, and watching the multiverse swim by outside his porthole. The thought of such dignified leisure is so calming that he actually feels his shoulders untense somewhat. This is brief, however, as two dracoliches come into sight and the deck fills with more mundane undead.

There is a fight.

Many undead are defeated, but the twin dracoliches begin raking at the hull of the ship, and as Ilia comes into sight, it becomes evident that they will not be landing so much as crashing.

He lashes himself to the hull with a length of convenient rope so as not to fall overboard. He looks at Vyse, who is not similarly secured. Looking at Lady Mir, he sees her red wings and calms somewhat, knowing she will be safe. Another look at Vyse. Flashes of memory where Vyse and Terika are flirting and canoodling playfully. Intense brotherly love for the ruddy bard. He suddenly knows that one of them has to make it, and grabs Vyse in a protective embrace.

Confusion and yelling.

More falling.

Brindas has saved the day by summoning celestials to ferry them to the ground. Intense relief that his friends are safe and that he didn't have to die.

Thoughts of Sinja. Affection for his friends. Romantic feelings for the woman with red wings. Guilt. More thoughts of Sinja. Thoughts turn to their lost companions.

The memory ends there.
*MimiFearthegn
Posts: 762
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *MimiFearthegn »


Visions of Mnemur - donated by Trissa
The memory of a werewolf who had been influenced by a scroll of Mnemur - collected and donated by Trissa. Removed from the public sensorium due to possible harmful effects on viewers.
*MimiFearthegn
Posts: 762
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *MimiFearthegn »


*MimiFearthegn
Posts: 762
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *MimiFearthegn »


A Day From an Angel on Elysium
Submitted by Sironitia
*MimiFearthegn
Posts: 762
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *MimiFearthegn »


A Farlandish Surgery
Submitted by Aleis
Sinlinara wrote: A woman lies on an operating table before you. She lies face down with her naked back exposed. Across the entirety of her back is what seems to be an excessively large growth; living, moving, alive; and existing underneath a bubble of flesh.
The environment around her is one of sterility: clean linen sheets, a bowl of boiled water and a neatly folded rag on a table at the foot of the bed, disinfected surgical instruments lie within arm's reach with wound dressings not far out of hand either. Even the air itself seemed to be distinctively cleaner than the smog that encompasses the outside city.
There is a sense of urgency about the situation. The woman is conscious but she is dying. You have to act quickly if you are going to save her. A familiar elf bearing a top-hat beside you casts a spell which you identify as Glacial Wrath on the growth. The woman is protected by a warding spell, but the growth is left frozen.
Now is the time to act. Scalpel in hand, you make an incision close to the woman's shoulder and continue to do so in an area around the growth. What lay underneath the skin resembled a kind of humanoid slug that had fused itself with the woman's flesh. As you contemplate how best to remove it the now exposed creature begins to move and react. It was trying to detach itself and escape.
With prejudice, you retrieve a knife and thrust it into the creature before it can flee. Blood trickles out of the creature as you remove the knife, the color identifiably the same as the woman's. As you are switching the knife back out for the scalpel the magical assistant beside you casts a Regeneration spell on the woman. You work quickly to separate the creature from the woman's body before the magic seals it inside. Favoring speed over precision, you cut out almost the entire area of skin in a hurry and pull the creature's remains from it.
A bag is held open by the assisting woman into which you toss the removed mass. The clean and sterile environment now bears crimson stains and the coppery scent and taste of blood. As the bag is taken away to be incinerated you proceed to clean the quickly closing wounds and the memory ends.
*silinrul357
Posts: 50
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *silinrul357 »


Two separate stones are submitted by the Sensate Ulanshio, all of them requested to be private. In addition to this, a painting is submitted for the viewing pleasure of any whom may so choose to enjoy it. It is of three women, but each with their own unique quality based upon the interpretation of the artist. The first is of a succubus, split neatly down the half colored in with one side black, the other white, both sides bleeding into each other. The second is a female, tall and shapely, but her form bright and made entirely of fire. The third is of a celestial woman, radiating golden light.

A Frustration of Self-Worth and Strength

The sight is that of the night market, in the hive. You are a humanoid, at least in size in shape. You stand behind several others on the opposite side of the market, the large, familiar look of a half-dragon looking person on one end, and in front of that a devil that only has identified itself as "Gold." You look down at the thugs gathered, and then ones in front of you that you know to be on your side. A hooded figure identified as "Ryu," one that you identify as Argent, Vash, or Shalafi depending on his 'mood,' a rather dark-looking halfling named Lyra, and the incredibly creepy mummy following her named General Zar-something. The name escapes you because you didn't care about it, the mummy was too creepy to care to know. Then there was Sharon, the entire reason you were on this quest. You cared to help this one both because she was a friend, and because she'd helped your mother before. The feeling of gratefulness in that was strong.

It also led into the next feeling: frustration, hopelessness, and depression, all on top of a wounded pride. The knowledge washes over you that you are a dragon in a humanoid guise. One of powerful blood that could have squashed most of these fiends and thugs once upon a time. That power is gone now though, stolen in a war. A memory inside of the memory flashes across your mind of nightmarish creatures in a massive fight, and then of you carrying away another dragon you know to be your father, then using much of your own life force and power to heal him. It leads to a realization that you have never felt so helpless before.

The thought enrages you further, especially as you can do nothing as Sharon and her friends are forced to pay an extorted amount to rescue her loved one, Leyana. You see the blue-haired fey as she is dumped out of the bag, but the fact that you can do nothing but watch serves only to infuriate you more. Then you look at the devil, "Gold," and another new feeling you never had before washes over your senses: a desire for vengeance.

A New Motivation

Hidden deep in one of the rooms of the Civic Festhall, where little traffic ever walked, you stood. You were not humanoid, you were a dragon. Your wings stretched, and your claws tapped on the floor in the dimly-lit room. Three sat in front of you. One is a succubus with struggles of her own by the name of Ryximandra. The second is a celestial blooded named Namael whom has been a good friend since your coming here. The third is Hasna, a fellow sensate, and someone you hold high regard for as a muse of yours.

You exchange words with them, being frustrated after a deeply wounded pride. The memory of a recent failure washes over you. You went to help friends, but all you could do is stand back and watch. This is not okay to you. You are a dragon, after all, so something like this should've been easy. But it wasn't, and you know implicitly that if you had tried anything you would have died.

The three in front of you each speak though, reassuring words. You do not hear the words so much, but you feel the intention behind them. They each have their own problems. They're all vexed in their own ways, but they're all working to get through them.

Working to get through them. It's when the realization hits you that you've been avoiding it: not work, but yourself. To acknowledge that you needed to improve and that you no longer held the power you once did was to acknowledge something painful: You are weak. None in front of you have said these words, but they're all stronger than you. Any one of them.

You look down to a claw, and look at the minimal arcane energies flowing upon it. You know the potential is there to do great things, but that potential was not unlocked. You voice this, and all in front of you offer their support.

Your head swivels to the doorway briefly as you think you hear someone coming. Nothing does though. Your head turns back, now accepting the new revelation. You're a dragon without a dragon's strength. That was something that needed to change. A new wave of feeling washed over you: resolve. It was strong, overwhelming even, but suddenly you knew what you had to do...
Post Reply