Cesura | Started and Open With Permission Only

The Story
It is unclear how Cesura, a once vibrant underground metropolis went from being a unique cultural center to a decrepit ruin in a span of only ten years. Though it had intentionally cut communications with the surface world upon it's conception by a woman known only by My, strange frequencies picked up by seismographs indicated unusual activity. When a team of officials descended into it's depths they were only able to send five strange photographs of the ruins and a tunnel shrouded in darkness save for distant, almost invisible lights before their signal suddenly vanished. Plagued with fear, people decided to block any access to the dead city and it's memory was lost in time. That is until a brief message from the city was received in Morse code that stated simply, "Cesura Lives," prompted another exploration into the depths.

Characters

Spoiler

You will write from the point of view of a member of a Research Team (4-8 people) who, having recovered information about Cesura, are interested in finding the truth behind it's fall and the disappearance of the 500,000 or so people who were known to have been living there. You can be anything from a Naturalist to a College Intern to anyone you believe would assist a team with this goal in mind. Age and gender is no real object if kept within reason.

The Catch: Canons

Spoiler

You enter Cesura and find interesting bottles on shelves, behind glass, and hidden in corners. They are labeled Canon and when consumed, they lend a variety of interesting powers. For example, a bottle of Canon labelled Forte can increase strength significantly. A bottle labelled Legato will allow water to be controlled for a short amount of time. Other variations can be found as well. They are extremely addicting and can drive those hooked on them to extreme lengths to possess them. Some may recognize these extremities as being symptoms of withdrawal that can evolve into violent fits of psychotic rage.

Setting:

Spoiler

Cesura was the dream of a wealthy politician named Myrtle Goode, known simply as My by most. She saw the perfect world as being one without religion and strict morals, where people could be themselves. She created a beautiful city underground that reflected these ideals along with Canons, drinks that could empower the people who lived there. Her dream quickly devolved into chaos leaving the beautiful city in ruins and the people without reason or sanity who fight for the remaining bottles of Canon that they have become addicted to.

The Plot

Spoiler

Starting from the point where the team touches down into the ruined city, the characters will be faced with the temptations and consequences of Canons, the threat posed by the now insane denizens of Cesura, the possibility that My is still somewhere in the city with malicious intentions, and basic survival. While you came to Cesura to uncover it's secrets, it is clear that it won't be easy, and with your life on the line, only the equipment you can run with, and no communication with the surface, it's a race against time to find the truth and with it, the way out.

Character Template:

Spoiler

Please keep this detailed yet comprehensible.

Name:
Age:
Occupation/Skills:
Appearance:
Personality:
History:
Strengths/Weaknesses:

Storybook Suggestions:

PM me with questions. More in depth information about Cesura will be posted in a discussion thread if interest is shown. I like communicating with my writers so any ideas, questions, and suggestions are encouraged. Rules are standard and good writing and a reasonable amount of commitment is expected and appreciated in this storybook. Thanks!

Cesura Discussion Thread

Reserving a spot~

Save me a spot?

Name: Tillman Antaeus

Age: 21

Occupation/Skills: Till is majoring in archeology at his university and signed up to come on this trip as an intern. His only assent is his brain, Tillman is extremely smart. He's not strong, fast, or agile. He tires out quickly and has no strength in his arms, legs, or anywhere.

Appearance: Till is 5"11 and extremly skinny to the point of malnutrition. He was diagnosed with anorexia at the age of seventeen and has been suffering from it from then on. He wears baggy clothes to mask his weight and carries around with a small backpack of energy drinks and vitamins always, it's all he lives off. His skin is pale and he has dark circles under his eyes. This is not just because of his anorexia, but also because of his drug addiction that he is struggling to recover from.

Spoiler

Personality: Till is nice, charming, but also quiet and reserved. He's on edge all the time, now especially because of the recovery process (he's been out of rehab for three months). He's insecure in all aspects but his intelligence, you question his competence and smarts and he will get offended. He doesn't like drawing attention to herself and doesn't do well when given the leader role.

History: Tillman was born in Greece, but moved to America to pursue a better education. He was raised in a strict family, he was not allowed out on school days and only on Saturday nights with proper supervision. He never had any control over what he ate, wore, his friends, where he went, or what he did for activites. At the age of seventeen he decided to stop eating as an act of rebellion and it was all downhill from there. When Till went to America at the age of eighteen he was introduced to drugs and didn't know how to control himself because he was never taught by his parents about what to do when that situation arose. He quickly became addicted. He fell into a life of cocaine addiction and it was all he could do to keep his studies up. When his grades and college started slipping he went into rehab and has been struggling to keep up a clean life.

Strengths/Weaknesses: Strength: He's really smart and can think quick on his feet. Weakness: Has no physical strength whatsoever, is fragile, passes out from exhaustion frequently, and sometimes slips into need for cocaine.

Name: Stephan Morris

Age: 28

Occupation/Skills: Though he could still be considered young he is an experienced cultural geographer who has taken the helm of this expedition and, though he is not confident in his leadership abilities, the passion and interest he shows for the history, or lack thereof, surrounding Cesura has allowed his to motivate the rest of his carefully selected team. For the time being at least.

Appearance: Though he is plain looking, with straight, prematurely graying, brown hair shorn close, and unremarkable angular features, his lively hazel eyes stand out from his stoic features. He looks older than he is as his forehead has deep worry lines and his manner of dress is based on practicality as opposed to formality and is largely grey and black. However, when he smiles, he can appear rather charming though his general demeanor remains severe.

Personality: He is a logical thinker and does not understand the way emotions play into decision making. He finds it difficult to relate to people and overcompensates for this by being agreeable to an almost absurd point. He spends much of his time alone, taking walks or reading and thus is very serious in nature. However, he has learned social convention and is not awkward in groups, only speaking when he feels something important should be said. Though he is not a born leader, he can grow into his role as he is a good speaker and has the drive to carry his ideas and other’s to fruition.

History: Though his team does not know this, he is personally invested in this expedition. His father, an eminent cartographer, was a member of the original team that vanished 20 years ago and, guided by maps that he conceived using only inferences as to the real nature of Cesura, he believes he understands the city enough to explore it and hopefully recover his father, or at least understand what happened. He feels that whatever happened in Cesura could threaten the surface world and he will only feel secure when he gathers the last bit of information from the site itself. When communication with Cesura resurfaced, he, using his influence as a government consultant, fought to receive funding and a hand-picked team to lead into Cesura.

Strengths/Weaknesses: Though he is an excellent logic and problem solver, he tends to miss the bigger picture and focuses on the smaller intricacies and details. Though he is extremely well read, he is not as experienced at using his wide range of information practically. He is very good at keeping calm under trying circumstances but does not handle confrontation well. He is paranoid and suffers from anxiety and depression that he conceals with false steadiness.

Name: Valerie "Val" Faraday
Age: 26
Occupation/Skills: Val is a young postdoc, with degrees in geology and mineralogy. She can identify rocks, minerals, and other geologic formations on sight, and she's an avid spelunker and cave diver. She's also studied the seismic readings from twenty years ago very closely, and has begun to sketch a rough potential map of the caverns of Cesura.
Appearance: Val stands at five feet nine inches, and has an athletic, slightly curvy build. She has pale skin, with a few freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes are light gray, and her hair is blonde and slightly wavy, usually kept in a ponytail. Her face is angular without being bony, and she has a wide smile. She likes to wear tighter pants with her favorite pair of boots, and dark-colored turtlenecks or jackets.
Personality: Val is smart, with both books and people. She's an expert when it comes to geology, and she's also socially competent, able to fake her way through a conversation if she needs to. She doesn't draw attention to herself and she tries not to be overly confident, but she knows exactly who she is, and she never doubts herself. She can be stubborn when it comes to her science, and she'll do almost anything if she needs something for a project or experiment. She's generally pleasant to talk to, but she can be reserved at times, and is very secretive about her past and personal life. She'll often sit alone and draw in her sketchbook, lost in her own thoughts.
History: Val's parents, both seismologists, were killed in a car crash when Val was nine years old. Val was in the back seat when the car was hit by a drunk driver, and although she's mostly recovered emotionally, part of her subconscious still blames herself for not noticing the other car in time to warn them. Afterward, Val was bounced around through various foster homes, but she was never close to any of her foster parents, and ended up basically raising herself. She excelled in math and science in school, and followed in her parents' footsteps by going into earth science.
Strengths/Weaknesses: Val can identify rocks and minerals on the spot, and is good at applying her geological knowledge to other problems. She's creative, and she's good at piecing bits of seemingly unrelated information together. She rarely panics, but she likes to do things herself, and doesn't usually trust non-geologists with any of her tools or equipment. She also has trouble trusting others with personal secrets, and will often lie or make excuses to get out of telling them.

Hello, thanks for your interest! I hope this can become an intriguing and unique storybook.

Here is the DT which contains some extra information.

Threnody

I'm sorry this is so late! :/

Name: Cecilia Felise

Age: 25

Occupation/Skills: Cecilia is an archaeological anthropologist with a degree in history. She relies on the information she gets from books and has photographic memory.

Appearance: Cecilia is around 5 feet 4 inches tall and has bright green eyes.
She has very short dark brown hair usually held back with a bright blue hair band. She has a dark complexion and a very serious expression on her face most of the time, that tends to intimidate most people. She's usually found wearing jeans and slightly large tie-dyed T-shirts.

Personality: Cecilia is usually quiet and speaks only when she is spoken to. She maintains a straight face at all times, and keeps her emotions to herself. She can become bossy if given the chance and is an opportunist. She has a hard time trusting most people and tries not to get emotionally attached to anyone. Her mind works quickly and she can get out of tough situations. She is also very curious, but careful and tends to jump to conclusions a lot.

History: Cecilia was left at her Aunt and Uncle's doorstep by her own parents when she was just a year old. They brought her up teaching her to be respectful to her elders and to speak only when someone spoke to her. She was taught that it was a sign of weakness to cry, or show sadness, anger, insecurity or even happiness. At the age of 11, she was told that her parents had left her because they weren't ready to take care of a baby and had divorced as soon as she was born. This led her to believe that love had dangerous consequences, so she closed her heart and mind to people. The only thing she ever trusted after that was a potted daisy.

Strengths/Weaknesses: Cecilia can get out of a sticky situation, but this is only when she's involved in it. She has a very keen sense of smell and can almost predict what can happen. Her photographic memory is very helpful when you require information on something. However, she has very less stamina and gets tired quickly, at which point her mind works slower than usual. She has weak eyesight, but refuses to wear spectacles and is short-sighted. She is also extremely stubborn.

Stephan Morris

I couldn't help but wonder what this voyage would have been like had we been awarded more funding. I kept telling them that this was not a hunch, that Cesura had so much to offer us. They weren't worried about Troy when they cleared that site for excavation. They didn't fear for "toxic fumes" when archaeologists requested permission to remove artifacts from Tutankhamen's tomb or ash-encased remains from Pompeii. They subjected me to three months of review, placed the signal received from Cesura, that was as clear as white against black, under countless validity tests, and finally, when everything was cleared, they gave me enough money to offer four other researchers a minimum wage salary and a crotchety old Tunnel Borrower Machine (ironically named Tubman) that had most likely not seen action since World War 2. I have my team writing on memo pads and keeping their notes in three ringed binders. How is Tillman supposed to earn any field experience with such base materials?

I pitied myself for a moment longer as I washed my face in the small dimly lit restroom on our rickety vessel that I could feel moving at the speed of an angry old man chasing the neighbor's kids off his grass. 75% of the scientists on the Tubman had a PhD or better, the other well on his way, and we were stuck on this piece of scrap. I shook my head and exited the room, water dripping off my face as I realized I had forgotten what I had just been doing.

"Morris, watch the calibrator, it looks like we're set to land in about 10 minutes if all goes well. I can detect a landing dock so it should be smooth," Valerie reported to me formally, "Wait, have you been crying?" She narrowed her eyes at me and I shook my head and laughed, embarrassed.

"Just washed my face, I've been so stressed out about this I can't think straight enough to dry it," I responded earnestly, meeting her disbelieving eyes.

"Everything will be fine. We'll get off, collect a few samples, snap a few photographs and be on our way," she nodded reassuringly and turned back to her notes.

"Come to the control room as soon as you can," I told her, checking my watch and counting down the seconds in my head.

I walked to the control room, trying not to visibly shake with anticipation. Eight more minutes. I met Tillman as I passed and I called him over.

"Follow me to the control room, I want to go over landing procedure. Cecilia and Joanna should already be there and Val will be on her way.

The next five minutes passed in a blur and I sat with my team, buckled into chairs around a control panel that was steadily blinking red.

"Listen up. We will land in an entrance of Cesura that was already created for transportation purposes. It should be clear of rubble or any other debris by default as it is protected by a shield. The impact will be sudden so brace yourself."

As a buzzer attached to the stabilizer began counting down, we all tensed up and the nobody spoke. The air was so still it could shattered by a stone. 3-2-1

Tubman suddenly dropped, as if it's bottom had been removed, and it began to fall, much farther than I had anticipated. [i]Something isn't right[\i]. I remembered thinking when we landed with a devastating crunch on a hard ground.

It took me a second to come to my senses but Cecilia shook me out of my chair. "Get up boss, we're here," she stated, her expression unreadable as always.

I pressed the button to open the hatch and stared into the dim light of Cesura. It was much worse than I thought and debris had buried Tubman alive, blocking the way back up and the signal to the surface rasped with static.

"Grab your notes, it's time to go," I told the others stiffly, trying to conceal the hesitance from my voice.

One female spot for me please. Her name will be Joanna Mason, she'll be majoring in jornalism and photography, and will be 23. I'll make the full profile tomorrow on my laptop (I cant right now because i am on my phone, sorry). But I think that your idea is great. It's very detailed and a very new and different type of SB. I can't wait to start .

Tillman Antaeus

I'd been anticipating this trip for months, ever since I first applied for position on the crew. Admitance was strict because of the low budget, Mr. Morris soon informed me of that, and I was extremly lucky to be here. Not only would this look great on my transcript, but first hand experince on what I would most likely be doing for the rest of my life was amazing. I could barely keep a proffesional disposition as we stepped off what Mr. Morris called "the Tubman".

As I stepped onto the hard ground my body still shook with the aftermath of the Tubman's sudden descent. My heart was beating too quickly and my hands shook, something I was familiar to, but I managed to stay upright as the world spun.

"Grab your notes, it's time to go."

I reached into my backpack and retrieved my notepad along with an energy drink and two vitamins. Everyone gathered around Mr. Morris and I followed, pencil behind my ear, ready to explore. One day I would be in his place, hopefully, leading investigations, solving mysteries. I could not help but to admire him, his faith in a project that others probably found useless, hence the low budget. I watched him closely and he looked at all of us, his team, and felt a sense of importance sweel up inside of me. I am an important contribution. That was a comforting thought.

Still, I wish I'd been able to get more background on Cesura, something the other team members undoubtly had. After getting my acceptance letter into the investigation team I tried to do a bit of research on Cesura, but nothing of substanance could be drawn from my research no matter how far into the books I read or the internet pages I searched. The only gain from my searches were old fabels I was reluctant to believe true. If this trip acheives nothing else of importance, it would at least bring fact - What is Cesura exactly? - and that is all I want.

Cecilia Felise

I was extremely excited about this trip. Not that I let anyone notice it, of course. I had been waiting quite a few days and wasn't entirely sure of whether I was doing the right thing. I'm not exactly adventurous, but the trip would probably give my career a boost.

I was in the control room of the "Tubman" as Mr. Morris called it, along with Joanna when the former, Valerie and Tillman walked in.

As Mr. Morris finished going over the landing procedure with us, I felt Tubman fall. Not slowly, not gently, but very very abruptly. As soon as we landed I noticed that Mr. Morris had been slightly affected by the fall. I shook him and said, "Get up boss, we're here."

He got up and, quite stiffly, said "Grab your notes, it's time to go."

Eeeeee! As I squealed mentally, I followed the rest of the group out of the machine, making sure to stay right at the back. Gripping my notepad and pen firmly, I prepared myself for the look of the city. It would obviously be in ruins, but we were hoping to find some buildings that would still be standing. It would naturally be more helpful for research.

All sorts of questions were spinning through my head. Is Cesura just a city? What if it became larger than My expected? What if it's almost the size of a small country? What kinds of Canons will we find? Will there be lots of Mordents? Will they be alive? What if they died due to an overdose of Canons? Will there be a lot of Sharps? I hoped we wouldn't come across a lot of Sharps and Mordents, since our connections to the surface were already weak and growing weaker by the second.

Stephan Morris

"Hold on people," I called, though I was pleased and reassured with their enthusiasm. "The Tubman is currently out of commission as the landing was slightly rough. Everything you need for at least a week will be in your backpack," I continued, passing them each a backpacking pack. They were deceptively light and perhaps the only thing the Foundation did right by us. "And last but not least, these. Hopefully you will not need to use them but the mandatory firearms training was not just to play around, keep these with you at all times but shoot only when necessary. We have a limited amount of ammunition and the noise caused by them could potentially cause cave-ins," I handed them each a semi-automatic handgun and a belt.

"Our first goal is to secure a safe shelter to base our research out of. However, any samples you find along the way should be properly labelled and brought with you in your sample case if it is significant. Do not get separated, that is the quickest way to ensure this expedition fails."

We started off into the dim expanse of Cesura and as we walked farther from the landing pad, a real city appeared in front of us. What was strangest was that there was no curvature of the earth in this underground city and it seemed to stretch on for miles. The rough stone that paved the tight streets caused our footsteps to echo and the monstrous buildings creaked on their disintegrating foundations. They were primarily of marble and limestone and would have been beautiful if maintained. Perhaps My had been successful, at least for a little bit, at creating a heaven on earth. Then again, building it closer to Hell seemed a bit ironic. All the structures were covered in dirt and what looked like soot.

"Is that ash? I didn't read anything about a fire in Cesura," Tillman asked, approaching a wall to photograph it. The lights, in the form of towering street lamps, flickered but held onto their light.

"I don't think so," Cecilia said, stepping back and looking at the wall from a distance. It was charcoal lettering in huge, thick lines that read,

"Welcome to Cesura, My city is your city but don't dance on My grave."

"That can't have been written by My. She used posters to communicate with her people. Who wrote that?" Valerie flipped through her research.

"Quiet, I whispered," in the distance I saw a pack of moving figures, their silhouettes casting long shadows on the pavement. The sound of their wheezing and their abrupt, almost twitching movements indicated that they were Mordents. How had they survived almost 20 years in their condition? "Something's not right, they never travel in packs. Make sure they don't see you and move out of the light."

We stepped into the shadows and took cover but Cecilia tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, "We have a situation, we have to get out of here now."

I turned around and saw two floating orbs of lights and heard a brief flutter of wings when I realized what lay behind us. A single Sharp, a strange mutation of a cockroach was advancing towards us. We were stuck between two dominating species and all we could do was run.

Val Faraday

We'd been out of the Tubman for--what, five minutes?--and we were already having to improvise. If this was any indication of how the rest of the expedition was going to go, we were in for a tough few weeks.

Moving as slowly as I could, I scooped up a handful of small pebbles from the ground and tossed them gently to my left. The clattering sound they made was soft enough not to startle the Sharp, but loud enough to send tiny echoes through the cavern. I listened carefully, stealing glances at the rock face next to us.

"Morris," I whispered, just loudly enough for him to hear me. "There's a cave to our left. Should be big enough to fit everyone with some room. We can fit through the tunnel, but the Sharp can't." I took another glance at the tunnel, just to be sure I was right. It would be a squeeze for us, but as long as we moved slowly and didn't make too much noise, we might all be able to crawl inside without provoking the Sharp. ...Assuming that thing would react like a regular terrestrial animal, of course. I had no idea what the biology was like down here.

Make a decision, Morris, I thought, not wanting to speak any more than I had to. Who knew what would set that oversized roach off?

Man, I should have studied my biology better...

Tillman Antaeus

I don't know what I expected, definately not that so soon. Val called the bug a Sharp, but the people in the distance went unnamed. I hate being uninformed and I made a mental note to bring up what sharps and those people were exactly while frantically scribbling notes as quietely as I could down on my notepad. Val indicated a cave and we all slipped into it. I went last, hesistating at the entrance and looking back at the giant mutation of the bug. I hated those things at their regular size and seeing it that magnified made my skin crawl.

"Get in here, Tillman," I heard somebody say. I snapped myself out of my trance and slipped into the cave, hands clutching my notepad hard enough to leave metal ring dents in my palm.

"What was that thing," I hissed, chest heaving. "Is this some type of nuclear waste sight or what? Those people, what was that?"

I reached shakily for my backpack and grabbed one of my many assorted water bottles of energy drinks. Strangely, they calmed me down. I took a swig and steadied my breathing. I could really go for a smoke right about now.