TOTALLY!!
Welcome to the Darkmatter Project, where there is...not that much focus on Space and such like you might think. Lets make some history...
News Broadcast
In 2020, renown scientist Dmitri Foucolt, age 34 of Moscow, Russia, announced to the world he had discovered the secrets of Dark Matter, the inobservable mass and weight of galaxies that certainly must exist. Dark Matter, as earlier scientists explained, was discovered by figuring the relative mass and weight of a galaxy, measuring its gravitation constants and the reactions between large bodies, such as stars. They were perplexed to find that their calculations couldn't possibly be right. There just simply wasn't enough weight to go with the mass they measured. Thus, the term Dark Matter was born. Dark Matter was what could not be seen, measured or understood by our methods, but certainly had to exist. Dmitri, known for his work only a year earlier in measuring the weight of thoughts and memories, proclaimed that Dark Matter wasn't particles such as dirt and rock, but the thoughts and memories of the beings that existed in those Galaxies.Dmitri had shown earlier that two people's thoughts weighted differently, depending on the subject. A Pro football player had much heavier thoughts concerning sports and physical activity than a librarian, while the librarian had much heavier thoughts about organizing and reading. Using simple mathmatic principles from there, Foucolt created a measurement system for the weight of a thought, Foucolts, and a standard for measuring a person's thinking called the Foucolt Scale. using this, Scientists were able to cure many mental illnesses by targeting the thoughts, and therefore portions of the brain going awry. Dmitri was awarded the Nobel Prize for his astounding work. Two years later, Dmitri seeks to win yet another, it seems. Dmitri Foucolt has proposed a machine, the Foucolt Gateway, that will allow people to observe the Dark Matter--the thoughts-- of other galaxies.
The Gateway requires 4 operators, placed in stasis and induced to dream lucidly. The operators, with the help of a fifth, conscious operator for the physical work of running the machinery, would be able to access a galaxy, at the speed of thought. Set to be ready this Summer, the Foucolt Gateway may be humanity's chance at seeing the very ends of the universe!
August 2, 2021. Folly-Colt's Day
A team of observers anxiously await as four designated operators are lead to their stations. Next to them, high ranking members of the scientific community, world leaders and their families stir just as nervously. What was there to be nervous about, though? It was a dream shooting thingy, right?
Dmitri Foucolt announced that he had made a major breakthrough on his Foucolt Gateway, and it would be ready right away. Furthermore, it wouldn't need skilled operators, aside from himself as the machine controller, to function. As long as they had no mental illness and stable thought patterns, they could operate the Gateway as dreamers. A raffle was drawn in the world powers, selecting from their entire populations who would be the lucky four to make history. Now those four were here, ready to do just that. They were seated in comfortable bed-like chairs and given a sedative to help them fall into a restful slumber. After they were unconscious, specialized machines induced lucid dreaming, the ability to control the outcome of your dreams, and the machine was ready. Dmitri walked down from the observation deck casually, waving to the scientific community and the families of the operators.
"Welcome, everyone, to mankind's next big step!" Dmitri announced with triumph. "You are about to witness history, and not just our own. The operators will be able to see the latent thoughts of any living being that reside within the outer reaches of space. While a great deal of it will be a messy jumble, just like our normal thoughts, they'll be able to dig through and discern meaning with the help of each other, and even you! Say hello, our operators are in a state of Ludic Dreaming, and can probably hear us!
Their dreams are like the super computer that does the thinking and processing. I get the boring job of pointing which direction they all think at." The crowd gave a slight chuckle. "Now, before we start, are there any questions?"
The Chinese Prime Minister spoke, and his translator translated, "How does the Foucolt Doorway Work? Rather--Why does it require these operators?"
"Ahh! A Very good question." Dmitri responded, giving time for the Translator to relay the message as he did so. "The Gateway isn't like normal telescopes and computers. It processes data at the speed of thought--How fast we can think about something, instead of how fast electricity or light moves. Aiming the Gateway allows for that processing to be applied to any point in space we can observe. The dreaming operators will process other thought, instead of data and numbers. Their thoughts will be measured, and based on their weight, we can get qualitative data from the quantitative data."
"So, from the relative weight of the thought, we can see what the operator is thinking about, and thus, what other things think about in the area?" One man questioned.
"Exactly." Dmitri responded. "Four operators give us enough to average the thoughts and get an accurate reading of what the thought patterns actually are."
After a pause, Dmitri affirmed there were no more questions. Certainly, both Dmitri and the crowd were anxious to witness this historical event. Dmitri sectioned off the working area, warning that no one was allowed in the area while the machine was running, because it could interfere with the thought monitoring devices. Dmitri prompted everyone to put on some eye protection, because the data readings could be very bright on the monitor. After he was sure everyone put on their eye protection, Dmitri put on a pair of rimmed sunglasses, showing just how harmless the project was and giving a thumbs-up to the crowd before turning to the Gateway.
Dmitri turned on the machine, aiming it toward the galaxy to be studied. There was no waiting time. There was no gentle charging up. No countdown....
As soon as the machine was aimed, all four dreaming operators exploded with such force that Dmitri was knocked away from the terminal he was operating, and the monitor cracked and broke apart from particles of bone and cartilage. People on the observation platform were knocked off their feet, sustaining injuries from the sheer force of the fluids hitting them. One man died from a fragment of bone slicing through his skull. Aside from only tiny particles of bone, the bodies were completely obliterated to a fine mush, with no discernible parts. The day would forever be known as Foucolt's Folly, or popularly named Folly-Colt Day.
Dmitri Foucolt was sentenced to life in prison for involuntary international manslaughter. He was led to his cell in the whole time seeming to be in a daze. The guard watched him for a moment before saying he was sorry it turned out the way it did, and then left. Dmitri sat there on his cot, starring at the ground for several minutes before a wicked grin crept across his face....
"I've done it...."
The Meta and the Oasis
You awaken.
It is inaccurate to say that you have awoken, however, as that would imply sleep. Contrary to what one might guess, there was no snuffing out of life when the machine destroyed your body. In fact, you are still locked in the excruciating pain of having been exploded. Despite this, you are quite humble. Pain is related to the physical body, after all, which is something you no longer have. Your very essence is gentling swaying in a place you can only describe as an oasis in the middle of a desert.
All around you, as far as you can see is sand. No matter which direction you look, the sun is always just outside your field of vision, or what your field of vision would be if you have eyes. The sky is a delightful color just shy of true blue, with a hint of sea green that gives off a cool, pleasant feeling. Despite the sandy desert, the area is fairly pleasant. It is not as if the world around you is covered in sand because it is dry, but rather, because it has nothing else to cover itself in.
In stark contrast to your observations, where you consider yourself to "be" is in the middle of a small oasis among the limitless sand. A primary pool of deep green that seems bottomless, but perfectly clear, rests in the middle of the oasis. Around it are several trees, and many fruit bearing bushes. Several smaller sea-green pools encircle the central pool. Crushed limestone and sandstone make up a sort of gravel path the lines the rim of the central pool, making a natural-looking walkway.
At what might be the head of the pool there are two crude stools, made of beautifully carved marble. They rest on pure white stone bricks, and along with the bricks, mark the only area within this place that the stone has been hew or worked to make an object. One stool looks like it has recently accommodated someone, while the other holds one of two impossibly beautiful women. Each woman is the same, perhaps twins. They has elegant blonde hair that is so straight you swear that physics would demand it fall differently. Their body, whether you are male or female, is perfect in your eyes. You, however only perceive one of these women at a time, although you know both are there.
While seeing the one on the left stool, you see a passionless being of war. The woman is clad in ornate black armor that leaves only her face visible making her stick out like a sore thumb in the bright, sandy desert. Like a foreboding mantle of darkness, raven-feather wings sprout from her back and rest over her shoulders. The wings themselves are beautiful enough to become lost in, which each feather perfectly distinguished from another, and sparkling with gold and ruby flecks. Movement doesn't provoke the sparkle, yet they don't seem to glow with their own light--they simply radiate with beauty. Her armor carries the same black, with red and gold accent, design, but the coloration of the armor seems to be deliberate. She sits perfectly straight, staring at you with eyes devoid of any love, but also without any malice. She is a perfect doll, a machine meant to destroy. You know perfectly well that you should fear this being.
The polar opposite, upon the right stool, wears a white, beautiful flowing robe which you can see through quite well as it is soaked. Despite because wet, the robe seems to fall over the being's form perfectly and looks as if it belongs that way, rather than what you understand as a wet, messy robe. She too, has wings, although they're much harder to distinguish. Around her is a mantle of mossy growth the shimmers and flutters in some un-felt breeze. She sits casually, head tilted to the sit slightly as she observes you with a warm smile you'd compare with a mother's loving gaze. In her right hand is a golden decanter held loosely, allowing its contents to spill into the central pool. Despite it being a small container, the decanter seems to be filled with endless water.
"Welcome to Oasis, Sojourner." She speaks. While she speaks, she becomes the angelic figure you see. Which angelic being each different Meta sees, however, is left to chance. There is no true distinction between the two beyond that there is some sort of distinction your cannot comprehend, thus your mind only allows one to exist before you.
You attempt to reply, perhaps in protest, perhaps to return the greeting, but without a mouth, you can't.
"Do not fret, for here is where you have come to be by my grace." Now the other speaks.
"You transgressed the laws of Statia, albeit unwittingly, and thus have been found guilty. Your essence unraveled and destroyed, here you lay. But find heart in knowing that you will not cease to be. I have allowed you here, that you may remain. Your transgression is an anomaly, allowing for a fragmented existence. Because of this, your essence requires reclamation, which it will undergo within Oasis." Each sentence marks a different side of the coin speaking, but there are no pauses or unnatural breaks, the words flow perfectly together.
You attempt once more to reply, you communicate, but you cannot. You are raw spirit-stuff. Communication as you once remembered it is no longer relevant.
"You desire definition? Be warned; with definition comes the burden of knowledge; the pain of being; the anguish of feeling. I admire Cosmos for that reason." She muses. "Your world is so primitive, so underwhelming...and yet that is why it is beautiful. Blinded by your own desire for progression, you reach for a future you've created yourself, and thus, is not there. Striving for the end of a path that never existed in true earnest. In the end, your journeys demand more endless paths be taken till finally you cease to move. Other worlds have progressed to their inevitable end much quicker, as they follow the next step, instead of being enraptured by the beauty of what is far away. I find that charming."
You become lost in her words and her love. You wanted definition, but maybe you could just remain here and listen to her speak? However, while you ponder that existence, you feel a disturbance next to you. It was always there, and perhaps it is even a part of you, or you are the one disturbing the peace. Four of your were killed by that machine, and one of you is now demanding answers.
"You do not understand then? To arrive in Statia, that be taken to Oasis thereafter, you were murdered within your own dimension, commonly named Cosmos. The method of your murder split your essence from your body, and launched it here to me. Without an essence to hold it together, your body collapsed similarly to how your essence would collapse without a body to contain it. The method of your murder is troubling in that your body and essence are now separate beings--a parallel existence, similar to me and my sister." You understand that the woman, or women you suppose, are talking about themselves. "You must become solidified, then I may erase or repair you."
Erase? When you think of being erased--simply ceasing to be, you very clearly see the armor-clad angel. She will be the one erasing you. When you think of being "repaired", you clearly see the angel in the robes. You understand in that, that both angels are one in the same, but two sides of a coin. One side is the destruction of threats, while the other is the correction of them. You affirm to yourself that you want to be corrected, not erased, and imagine only the woman in the robes.
"You've made your choice then." Now you very clearly see the woman in robes, and understand the woman in armor is gone, as she is no longer needed to possibly erase you. "I will define you, as is within my power. I have the authority to shape you, but not decide the shape...Tell me, how do you appear? Who are you and what are you?"
Your free flowing essence, given the choice to create a new being begins to rush, twitch and spasm, making an entirely new person out of the raw spirit-stuff.
So after that intense introduction...what's next? YOU CHARACTERS, OF COURSE!
You will make three applications. Yes. Three. While I work out the exact format of each, think of these characters in your mind. Who they could be, and what they could be. They Are:
The Meta(Dreamer): Yep! We killed one of your characters before the RP Even started! These people just need a SMALL history.
Meta Application
Name: Names names names
Age/Gender/Appearance: Quick thing, like "26, Male, Sexy Stallion of womanizing glory"
Goals in Life: What you wanted to do
Why join the Project/Small Backsotry: What you DID do, and why you entered the raffle to become a dreamer, plus your reaction to finding out you won!
The Terra: Someone who knows, or is related to your Dreamer. They will function in the real world.
--This is a fleshed out application of a real person in the real world who was close to the dreamer in some way. A Wife? a Son? a BFF?
--appearance, personality and skills nessicary
The Aether: The Dreamer Mk. 2. The Dreamer is not dead and this is the person or thing they've become. within the Dark Matter.
Aether Application
Name: Any Name. Fantasy or Otherwise.
Species: You can even make one up, but give a good description for custom races I might not recognize
Age/Gender: Age and Gender!
Appearance: What do you look like?
Caste: Your "Caste" is like a RPG Class that your character falls into. This is just so I have an idea of what your character is focused on, rather than a defining or limiting part.
Skills:
--Primary: I SHOOT MAGIX!
--Secondary: I can stab with swards?!
--Tertiary: A Bachelors in interior design, with a minor in women's studies.
Background: Despite just being born....you have one of these. Be creative, and make a story about this character of yourself in this blank world. Who knows what will happen...?
