“It has been three weeks since the surprise discovery at Cata Lamirs Terakhem, and, as end-of-the-world conspiracy theories continue to spread across the internet, the archaeological site has become a gathering point for a massive crowd of historians, anthropologists, tourists and bizarre cultists alike.”

The camera pans over a vista of bleached stone sticking up out of the cleared rainforest.  Archaeologists are seen carefully brushing fragments of pottery as they are unearthed and close ups of the stone work reveal complex carvings.  In almost every shot the crowds of visitors beyond the barricades can be seen swelling, the occasional home-made ceremonial hat poking up over the throng.

Cut to the centre of the dig, where a series of large stone discs remain partially excavated.  A close-up reveals carvings in concentric circles depicting humans animals and monsters in various configurations.

“Whilst investigations are still ongoing about the exact nature of the stone circles which have given the site its name, the calendar theory still holds sway amongst experts and enthusiasts alike and it’s not just the internet crazies who think that the dates terminate this month.”

The camera cuts to a female reporter standing in front of an ornately carved stone gateway.  Beside her is a man in his middle years, dressed mostly in tweed, as if it were a sort of archeological uniform.  His beard his unkempt, but his eyes are alive with interest.

“I’m here with the archaeologist in charge of the dig, Professor Feoldo Ura’si Syona-Orusyo.

Professor, what is your opinion on the theories spreading across the blogosphere about your discovery?”

“I find it all fascinating,” the professor replies after clearing his throat.  “Of course, you want people to be interested in your work, but the discovery of the stone moons has exccited people in ways I could never have imagined.”

“You believe that it is a calendar, correct?”

“Oh, most certainly.  We think they would have been mounted on wooden poles and some kind of mechanism would have been used to turn them so that different images aligned on the different discs.  Some of the images appear to be historical, but it looks like the calendar would also have been used to ‘predict’ the future and the range it could have covered was remarkable.”

“Some of the theories suggest that range reaches right up to the present day, that, in fact, the calendar ‘ends’ this month.”

“That is one valid interpretation of what we’ve seen.  It’s early days yet, but it’s likely that their dating system could reach at least as far as October 2016, perhaps even another five or ten years.”

“And what do you think about those who say that the calendar predicts that the end of the world will happen before the month is out?”

“Well, like many ancient mythologies, the Varsans appear to have believe that the world would end one day with some catastrophe and the end of their mathematical calendar is a logical point for them to assume this to happen.”

Professor Syona-Orusyo points to an image on the largest disc on the floor in front of him.  The camera zooms in.

“This image appears to depict either gods or demons rising up out of the sea to devour the land, something that fits with what little we know of Varan creation mythology, which suggest the world was formed out of the sea as a raft to protect the gods from the monsters of chaos.

None of this is real, of course,” he adds, looking sternly towards the camera, “it’s just the mythology of a people long since gone.”

“So what would you say to those who have begun joining doomsday cults and proclaiming the end of the world?”

“I’d say, thank you for your enthusiasm, but.. haven’t you got anything better to do?”

The camera cuts to a close up of the reporter’s face.

“Thank you, Professor.  Well, it seems that, whatever the experts might say, people are going to continue flocking here, expecting the end of the world, until at least the end of the month.  Someone is going to be proven right soon enough,” she adds with an impish smile, “let’s hope it’s the experts.

This has been Jera Fisa-Yano for Mado Erinead, back to you in the studio, Yamera-”

The screen cuts out leaving only static.

Thread Rules:

This RP is currently closed.  It will open after my second introductory post, after which point anyone else may join in, either as a nation directly affected by the event, or a nation offering support.  You'll know which is most appropriate once we get going.

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The sky was as dark as Jino had ever seen it. He held tight to the rail as another shower of spray splashed across the deck, the swell they were riding colliding forcibly with another, but his eyes never left the sky. So dark, darker than storm clouds, darker than the depths of a hurricane, it was as if the sun itself had been devoured above them. It was difficult to keep track of the time during a storm, but he was sure that if he made his way into the Syatyu da Syouna’s cabin and checked the clock in there it wouldn’t be much past midday. The storm had broken not long after they had left port in the early hours of the morning, taking them completely by surprise as none of the shipping forecasts had mentioned anything like it. And whilst it would have made sense to turn around at the point and head for home, for some reasons they kept being swept further out to sea.

At first, they were worried about getting stranded in international waters - no one wanted a repeat of the Bruuma incident - but now they were beginning to fear that they’d never see land again. The navigation instruments didn’t seem to make any sense anymore and they’d reached the point where all they could do was try to keep the trawler steady and hope the freak storm ended sometime soon.

But for Jino there was only howling void above, now. Dark as an eclipse, but lasting all morning, it was like a black hole had swallowed the sky. Would it swallow the ship?

Up and down and round and round. The little trawler repeated the same fraught motions over and over and Jino held tight each time, waiting for the cold splash and then the endless abyss in the air. He wanted it over, now. He wanted it to end. He wished for the darkness to breathe them in and consume them and-

Something moved beyond the starboard gunwale and the ship lurched.

Jino caught it out of the corner of his eye and at first, he thought it another swell, but it didn’t move like a swell, a huge undulating bulge in the ocean, besides, Jino saw it move astern and yet the ship had lurched to port. No this had been something bigger than a wave, something moving through the water.

All thought was drowned for a cold, drenched moment as a wave broke over the beleaguered vessel and Jino lost his grip and felt himself dragged along the deck by the undertow, only just managing to catch on to something in time to stop himself from being swept over the port gunwale and into the ocean.

“What was that?” came a voice through the confusion. It sounded like Arada Yen, the skipper’s son, only coloured with terror and confusion. It was coming from behind.

Jino staggered to his feet and turned around to see the boy - only twelve, this was his third fishing trip on the Syatyu da Syouna - cowering behind the winch and staring astern as if he’d just seen a monster.

“I don’t know, Yen” Jino replied, trying to sound confident and yet all-too aware of the hoarse, quavering quality his voice had taken on, “but it’s passed us now, so-”

The air was filled with a sound unlike any Jino had heard before. A connoisseur might have picked up notes of elephant trumpet, jet-engine thrusting, the rush of a cyclone and the particular sound of metal fatigue from a concrete and steel skyscraper on the verge on collapse. For Jino it was just loud and something about it raised the skin on the back of his neck into gooseflesh, something ancient, instinctual, forgotten. The air seemed warmer and smelled strongly of rotten fish and met.

The roar had come from the stern and Yen’s expression as he stared back that way had frozen into a soundless cry for help, so he turned, his limbs shaking from cold and terror alike.

He was just in time to see a set of huge teeth come down with a crocodilian snap. A case of careful what you wish for.

If anyone else wants to join in, you may do so from now on.

(This post was last modified: 10-17-2016, 02:20 PM by Seraph.)

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