Silvermoon is many things: a character study, a political satire, a soap opera, a pulp fantasy, a bodice-ripping romance, a high-budget action comedy
Our starting inspiration is Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, but this is not your average magical girl manga! Our story's time period is the far-past Silver Millennium, with PGSM's character archetypes twisted just a little bit to crank everything up to eleven.
Silvermoon's setting is player-driven, with crazy character concepts, a whole lot of silly adventure, and a home for just about any concept you can think of, since any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Whether your tastes run to steampunk, Harlequin, Asimov, or Lovecraft, we have a home for you!
To get started, check out the how-to guides and the theme info for more information.
Posted by: Akhet« on: April 19, 2013 »
"Our people don't have a name for them," Akhet admitted. "The stones are unique to the nation. It IS a rather small nation on an interplanetary scale, I imagine. Don't you have an entire planet of jeweled towers up there? I'm not sure the Mother Crystal is worth your time, really."
It wasn't that Akhet disliked Guardian Zoicite, per se. She didn't anything him. Which made her gift of a potential audience all the more commendable.
"We do ship things by water, yes. Or land." Or zapping goods from one place to another, but that was tricky, and failed more often than not. She idly wondered where all those goods went, magicked away and never arriving at their destination. Probably landed somewhere in the middle of the desert. Or ocean. Or low Earth orbit.
"On a totally unrelated note, if you find a turquoise amulet floating around out here somewhere, consider it a gift." She'd ordered it from a Cibolan silversmith last year, and it never came.
Posted by: Angelo Vespucci« on: December 11, 2012 »
Living so long with Martians had taught Angelo to pick his battles wisely. Or to nuke them from orbit. But given the political backwash of a shot at the dirty little planet over which they floated, the latter was not exactly an option.
Also, he was rather enjoying talking to someone so novel. Tianxia and their crystal towers! Fascinating. But her next question rather confused him. Shore leave? What-- ohhhh. "Of course. There is no shore, however I suppose the concept is similar. Do your people ship by water, then?"
It occured to him a moment later why she might be asking such a question. And while they were not permitted to land on earth they were also not permitted to do any of the other things that earned them a living. They were not exactly on the side of the law, here. Then again, earth was a dangerous place, and odds were good that there was nothing of value to them there. Then again again, how would they know?
One way to find out, he supposed. "I'd like to hear more about these towers. What manner of crystal is used to build them?" A transparent (presumably) mineral strong enough to support the weight of a building was surely worth something.
Posted by: Akhet« on: December 03, 2012 »
Akhet personally didn't see anything wrong with arguing grammar with extraterrestrials, especially since her first argument had gone so well! Still, there were probably better things to discuss. Probably.
"A pleasure to meet you as well, after a fashion. Angelo. Angelo..." She drew out the name, as if she were exploring each syllable. "It's a very melodious name, makes me think of Tianxia and the music that reflects off their crystal towers. And let me assure you that that is a compliment, spaceman."
She smirked, and hoped that she wasn't projecting her self-satisfaction. Too much. "A shipping vessel": she knew a half-truth when she heard one, even one spoken across the abyss of space. Still, as long as they weren't hiding from her then she could certainly respect a little diplomatic evasiveness. Besides, it didn't affect what she was really curious about.
"A shipping vessel, then? Well, I understand the concept if not the execution. What I wonder, Angelo, is whether you get shore leave when you're, er, docked?"
Posted by: Angelo Vespucci« on: August 27, 2012 »
"Are you really arguing about grammar with somebody from outer space? I see your point, though I cannot say it is a turn of phrase often used in my experience." And there, there, he was done arguing, because she was right, in her way, and he could relent that point. He didn't want to argue about it anymore.
He collected himself and he huffed a little, which was thankfully inaudible to her (as were any and all noises his near-surroundings were making). Then he had to think a second because she had a name and it was-- well he liked it, it was appealing-sounding, and that was odd. Maybe it was because it was an A-name and that was sort of his family's thing?
Now was probably not the time to consider it. Now would be the time to try and explain that he was not entirely a ship but a person. Kind of. Also a shi-- augh stop you'll break both your brains. Then she was apologizing and he was-- well he hadn't been exactly prepared with a speech beforehand but now she was being polite and that was just so strange for someone on the internet that he didn't know what to do with it for a moment.
So it took him a second to respond. "It's-- okay. I'm. Angelo." A pause of his own. "It's... nice to meet you."
Posted by: Akhet« on: August 26, 2012 »
"Yes, it is clear to me now that you are utilizing a very narrow definition of the word. For example, have you never explored a possibility? Well, perhaps you haven't." If there was one thing Akhet liked doing it was finding new ways to be right, though in her tier of Pesuan society it wasn't a hobby as much as a required skill.
She did, however, bravely resist further hypothesizing about this quirk of language being a symptom of a disaffected and stagnant society, and not just because it would be like throwing stones from a glass pyramid. After all, how often did she get a chance to speak to one of the moonwitches? And a commoner, no less?
Or perhaps the strange reach of his/the ship's sensors was simulating a sort of sympathy in her. Or maybe it was a bit of both.
"But if you prefer to regard this as simple conversation, then let us adjust our tack. My name is Akhet, and you may refer to me as such." No need for titles this high off the ground. "Do I refer to you as Zarathustra?"
She paused, and added, "And I apologize for waking you."
Posted by: Angelo Vespucci« on: July 25, 2012 »
"We have a-- a network, of sorts-- with which to communicate and spread ideas. I am using this network to speak with you now. There is no magic involved. Merely science." Not that he was overconfident about his ability to internet but he had a pretty good idea of what his capabilities were. Surely he could stand up to some backwater loony with an amplifier on her psychic abilities.
Because if there were anything a Mercurian in space liked to do, it was argue on the internet. "...Which is why I do not consider the communication going on here to be exploration. You sought out-- what? Human contact? Exploration tends to involve a body, or some physical form, and often ends in conquest. Extraplanetary communication is a different beast. You're speaking into one end of a tube whose opposite end you cannot see." He paused there, wondering in several directions at once: did she think they were there to conquer them? Probably did now, doofus. You are the worst ambassador ever. To be fair you're a pirate and that's kind of your schtick-- Also, what exactly had she been doing sending a signal like that into space? Didn't they have an embargo against that or something? Was Earth not unified, at least, in their refusal to contact the remainder of the system? It was so much dead space around this orbit which was why they were sleeping there (so far as being stuck in the inner system went it was really the safest place to lay low) and it was so very, very rare for anyone to be even think about being this close to such a useless place but here they were.
And here she was.
"We are... not seeking to conquer earth. It is quiet here. We were sleeping, my crew and I. We are..." Again he stumbled, because generally they didn't explain themselves to people. Pirates are a pretty self-explanatory sort. He finally settled upon "A shipping vessel." And left it at that.
Posted by: Akhet« on: July 25, 2012 »
"Of course it's exploration. Perhaps you spacemen have a subtly different meaning of the word, as surely peregrination for its own sake must seem quite blasé to those who once traveled between the stars."
It was a childish response, but she'd already deduced by his manner of speaking that he was no diplomat or noble, and her filters had immediately dropped. So, a commoner, who captained a ship, who WAS the ship. Were there others like him, or was his gift a rare one?
Akhet pondered his question. "I suspect there is much you don't know about my people," was the first non-answer that came to mind. She certainly preferred it that way, but the old resentment that the Moonwitches should take up orbit in their own skies without so much as a treaty or a "hello, neighbor" did bubble up a bit. Fortunately any fantasies she had about blowing them all out of the sky stayed low, deep, and quiet.
"So, who is this 'us' you refer to?"
Posted by: Angelo Vespucci« on: May 30, 2012 »
Culture shock. Naturally. He resisted the urge to make some kind of snarky comment about the inevitability of such shock, given the planet from which she spoke. Good for him.
Some hands bent down to merge with the control panel before him while another set rose to rub his eyes as he yawned, still enveloped in the endless dark of space. He had no idea that she was speaking to him from a climate so like his homeland and maybe if he'd known he'd have been a little nicer.
But probably not.
"It is not exploring if you are sitting in your room." It was odd, though, to feel those invisible fingertips against his hull. Er. His ship's hull. Which was his. "I am the ship Zarathustra. And it's pilot." He had never had to introduce himself this way before and it was odd. None of it was untrue, but the concept seemed rather complex to explain to... well to somebody whose only understanding of the Internet was ~it's magic~. Who clearly thought of him as some manner of horrible interstellar monster. Which, to be fair, was not entirely untrue. He was not like an earth human anymore.
It was perhaps egotistical to consider himself more but there you have it. He was more. More arms. More hands. More brainpower, frankly. He was plugged into the largest neural network in history directly through his nerve endings and he made constant use thereof. He was a mildly meated ghost in the machine and he was perfectly happy there.
"I suppose we come in peace, though admittedly most of us are asleep. What, pray tell, are you doing shooting your signal into space? I believed your people frowned upon such things." The thing about being part robot was that it squelched his already frail attempts at squishy human things like "manners" and "timing." His sensors were probing along the path of her thoughts, fascinated by the concept and taking gratuitous notes thereupon. It might have felt a little weird, but then again she had her psychic fingers all up on his private hull so it was probably mutually so.
Posted by: Akhet« on: May 29, 2012 »
Akhet pulled back, like someone pulling their ear away from where they'd held it against the door. She hadn't been expecting an answer to her question from the very object she'd run into.
So this was definitely no moon. Perhaps a ship, as she knew the Moonwitches often traveled between the planets in unsightly metal contraptions. She'd never known those contraptions to speak, though. Then again, she did employ her own personal swarm of talking metal scarabs. Perhaps the principle was the same?
"The sound of culture shock, clearly. I greet you in peace as an explorer and scholar from the planet below." A sort of truth! She kept a little distance between herself and the object, now, with only her imagined fingertips brushing its metal expanse, in case it really was like a giant metal scarab and needed its space. "Are you an emissary, perhaps? Who do you represent?"
Posted by: Angelo Vespucci« on: April 24, 2012 »
Angelo Vespucci pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn't been sleeping, persay, but he hadn't exactly been awake either. Such was the way of the cyborg. His hand slid sideways to dig the fleshy heel into the socket as he opened up a tiny band of communication wave. His eyes, on the other hand, did no such thing.
There had been a ping, somewhere in his subneural network, that had alerted him to the attempt at communication. Perhaps it had been a distress signal. Perhaps it had been more of those interstellar rogue-police that were so fashionable these days. The distress signal was more likely, and if they got there first they could have the ship turned over and cleaned out by the time anybody else got the signal. So he'd set up an alarm system. Which had awoken him. So he was listening, with a rather hungry kind of interest, for the distress signal that was surely to follow.
Okay now that didn't even make sense. The long sharp tendrils of his brain hissed and shivered, stretching up into consciousness with the curve of his aching spine. It wasn't code; he'd already checked. It could mean a million things but the intonation-- and yes, there was an algorithm for that-- insinuated that it was just-- ugh thank you Internet the word is onomatopoeia. Someone was just confused about the sound. Clang.
But why would someone be broadcasting that confusion into deep space? Surely the-- oh ballocks what planets were they even near right now? The groan was audible for a few feet around the mechanic but thankfully he didn't broadcast his every little thought like some people around here, apparently. He thought for a moment, and then did the reasonable thing and tracked the signal. It was-- okay it was unlike anything he'd ever seen, barring some similarity to-- oh no.
They were rather near Mars' orbit, weren't they? But-- Mars was in the opposite direction. Which really only left one nearby planet. Which. Was. Highly Interesting, to say the very least. He straightened in his chair and folded his innumerable fingers together.
This could be interesting. He cleared his throat, as if that would do any good, and he turned the radio waves of his consciousness back toward the signal. It was bright and sharp and clear when he spoke, with a faint crackle of electricity dancing about the edges of his syllables:
Posted by: Akhet« on: April 24, 2012 »
The star chart was floating in the southern corner of the room, a quartz crystal pinned to its center, keeping it aligned with the movement of the heavenly bodies.
The room itself was cleared and sealed, save for the chart, an open window, Akhet and her crystal staff, and a tiny, golden scarab. She held the scarab in her palm and gave it a brief, affectionate kiss before letting it crawl off her hand and onto the window sill where it waited, ready to fly and fetch Sefet should anything go wrong.
And there were so many things that could go wrong. There were a lot of reasons Pesuans feared and mistrusted the Moonwitches, not the least of them because their actions and movements were beyond the sight of even the most talented scryer.
Akhet was going to try, though. She'd been mostly honest when she'd told her courtiers that she intended to spend the evening stargazing. The light of the full moon glinted off the crystal ball atop her staff, and she felt fairly confident that she'd be able to hit her target.
She took a deep, steadying breath, closed her eyes, and reached for her crystal ball without actually touching it. Then she sent her mind out, out through the crystal, refracting off the quartz, and off into the night sky.
Well, so far this is much easier than I thought it would be! Such momentum! It felt as if her body had actually left the earth and was rocketing towards the stars. Her very thoughts seemed to be breaking free of the planet's gravity, moving faster, traveling further, and then...
"Clang?" She'd hit something. Something with thoughts crawling all through it. Was this the moon? It certainly didn't feel like the moon.