Just trying to get some ideas out in the open, brainstorming for a way to pull them together, seeing what other people think.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was a Tuesday in November and I couldn’t think of a title or a beginning to a story that has no end. It has no plotline, it’s just a mess of ideas that are synonymous in the same universe, with the same imaginary characters—fractures of my own personality—with settings and conflicts which have yet to be resolved, and I’m not even sure what the point of writing the story is, let alone what thematic value it could possibly contain. Thus is the stuff of the novel of the century; I’ve an entire world in my head, and I haven’t the slightest means with which to produce for the rest of you. For years, and I do mean years, at least five thus far, I have unsuccessfully butted heads with an apparent fear of commitment to a single plan as more and more creation swirls without control within my mind. Dozens of “chapter 1’s” drift uselessly on paper, on hard drives, on my mind, all rejected for one reason or another. Here I disclose a basic synopsis of this story, in the hopes that somehow displaying the conglomeration of its content will help me reach a solution to the comatose of my writing.
It is a story of conquerors, of tyrants, of ungodly monsters and their ungodly masters, churning in the shadows of the world, emerging from their caliginous dens to torture the lives of the innocent and burn entire countries to the ground. Behind her ramparts, one last empire stands, but with nowhere to turn for help, and nowhere to escape the wrath of her enemies, her fate is practically sealed. As the enemy slowly floods the country’s borders, the people begin to entertain a castle in the sky about the only union strong enough to take on the conquerors, the tyrants, the madmen and the maniacs. A long-lost rebellion that was once the victim of terribly blind injustice, causing it to dissipate and disappear like the haunting mist that lingers over a lake before vanishing in the sunlight. Morale plummets miserably as they realize this dead rebellion is their only hope, but out of sight, a miracle flickers surreptitiously as a hostage escapes the enemy’s forces and stumbles across the last surviving members of the rebellion.
Includes "ungodly beasts born of illegal science", monsters formed by splicing, and superhuman hybrids.
Because of the cracked Human Genome, people can have just about any hair or eye color, which is fun--they are the crown jewel of the "last empire", but they aren't really accepted much outside of it. They're considered inhuman because their DNA has been tampered with.
In a way, the setting is technically 'way' post-apocalyptic, futuristic, but it's a combination of high-tech, modern cities, elegant victorian cultures, untamed wildernesses, atomic barrens, and slummy places, just like the world today--maybe minus the atomic barrens. I set it in the 62nd Century so I could mold the geography about to my liking and still use it as Earth.
That's about it, for the most part.