Post by Raze on Jan 21, 2015 20:39:34 GMT
There was an odd emptiness to it all. The blankness of the underground ceiling in the darkness of the night, as solace and rest refused to come. The pointless, endless void staring back at him with emotionless eyes. No longer was life precious: death simply found one a little disoriented and back for more. And so, when all was said and done, the point, the end-all be-all, the raison de etre, found itself... fizzled, like a thief in the wind, a thief of the wind, stealing breaths from throats that no longer cared.
All that was left...
was memory.
The city of Long Kou - the Maw of the Dragon. One of the prime cities of the Middle Kingdom, a towering fortress overseeing a vibrant, booming economy. The entire city felt at once like a single, organic unit, and yet at the same time like a messy conglomerate of chaos. No districts, no circles or layers, and yet somehow, everything made sense. Tian Jing, with its spiraling, stifling orderliness, its guild hall and Forbidden Palace, may have been the capital, but Long Kou was the place everyone came to live. The acrobats had their rooftops, the crafters had their factories, and the thieves and brigands and hackers had their alleyways. But, for players like Ajay, what mattered was the Arena. It wasn't just some silly little box-grid with disjointed spectator cameras. Everyone in the audience actually had their avatars, their characters in the audience, screaming and booing and cheering and throwing fruits and weapons and spells at the forcefield surrounding the fighters. The atmosphere was amazing. Even for a GweiLo.
The term was coined back during the British occupation of Hong Kong to refer to the foreign colonists. The most accurate translation would probably be 'pale devil' or 'ghoul', likely in reference to the white skin of the English foreigners seeming pale and corpselike to the Chinese. Over time, of course, it just became an insulting term for foreigners, and in some circles, even sarcastically endearing - despite the fact that Ajay had darker skin than the locals did. But the name stuck. So, once Ajay finally got his hands on a Scroll of Naming, GweiLo it was.
W: 366
All that was left...
was memory.
The city of Long Kou - the Maw of the Dragon. One of the prime cities of the Middle Kingdom, a towering fortress overseeing a vibrant, booming economy. The entire city felt at once like a single, organic unit, and yet at the same time like a messy conglomerate of chaos. No districts, no circles or layers, and yet somehow, everything made sense. Tian Jing, with its spiraling, stifling orderliness, its guild hall and Forbidden Palace, may have been the capital, but Long Kou was the place everyone came to live. The acrobats had their rooftops, the crafters had their factories, and the thieves and brigands and hackers had their alleyways. But, for players like Ajay, what mattered was the Arena. It wasn't just some silly little box-grid with disjointed spectator cameras. Everyone in the audience actually had their avatars, their characters in the audience, screaming and booing and cheering and throwing fruits and weapons and spells at the forcefield surrounding the fighters. The atmosphere was amazing. Even for a GweiLo.
The term was coined back during the British occupation of Hong Kong to refer to the foreign colonists. The most accurate translation would probably be 'pale devil' or 'ghoul', likely in reference to the white skin of the English foreigners seeming pale and corpselike to the Chinese. Over time, of course, it just became an insulting term for foreigners, and in some circles, even sarcastically endearing - despite the fact that Ajay had darker skin than the locals did. But the name stuck. So, once Ajay finally got his hands on a Scroll of Naming, GweiLo it was.
W: 366
