About this universe
Damien O'Connell staggers ashore a haunted man, desperate to reach the wife he barely remembers after ten years in a god's grasp. But as he limps through Varrow’s Reach, the city’s omens darken and new, hungry gods circle. Will homecoming offer comfort, or only fresh torment?
Tone
Claustrophobic and brooding, with flashes of sharp dread and haunted nostalgia.
Themes
divine oppression vs. mortal resilience, trauma and recovery, fate vs. free will, the cost of survival
Protagonist
Damien O'Connell
Damien is a gaunt, sharp-edged figure whose wary blue eyes constantly scan for threats. Exhaustion and deep, unhealed scars line his brow, remnants of a decade of divine torment. He moves with a restless vigilance, a stark contrast to his deep longing for the comfort of home.
Goal: To reach home and find comfort with his wife, Isabella, and never sail again.
How it begins
Damien O'Connell grips the rusted rail of the ferry as it shudders into Varrow’s Reach under a ceiling of bruised clouds. Rain needles his face, but he barely feels it, his eyes lock on the faint outline of the city’s cathedral, a hunched silhouette against the electric skyline. He pulls his threadbare coat tighter, fingers brushing the scarred skin that Flexis left behind. The deck sways beneath him, but Damien refuses to stagger. A boy in a courier’s cap sidles close, thrusting a scrap of paper into Damien’s hand.
“Welcome home, mister. Someone’s real eager to see you.”
The boat grinds against the dock. Passengers jostle, but the boy vanishes into the crowd. Damien unfolds the message: the ink writhes, shifting into words only he can read, words that shouldn’t be possible, promising both warning and invitation. The city’s air tastes of copper and incense. Somewhere, a bell tolls, and Damien steps onto the soaked planks, heart pounding as the sky flickers with unnatural light.
About this world
The Frayed Meridian is a retro-modern world where mortals live beneath the ever-present shadow of volatile gods. Advanced technology and urban society intermingle with ancient rites and divine oppression. Divine grudges and past cataclysms have left the fabric of reality strained, fueling tension and fear among mortals and deities both.
The Frayed Meridian is a world divided by the wounds of divine wars. Towering coastal cities with cracked glass spires and humming neon veins rise from cliffs battered by gray, restless seas. Inland, tangled forests and time-warped ruins bear scars left by gods’ ancient wrath. Despite technological progress, automobiles, broadcast radios, and cinema, mortals remain beholden to the gods’ whims. Religion and superstition permeate daily life: shrines are built into subway walls, and prayers are murmured over radio airwaves. The city-state of Varrow’s Reach stands as a beacon of mortal ambition, its government a fragile parliament balancing appeasement of local deities with the needs of its citizens.
Society is fractured by divine affiliations. Some mortals form cult-like alliances with particular gods, seeking protection or favors. Others try to rebel through underground movements, risking divine retribution. The gods themselves are unpredictable; some walk openly in mortal guise, while others send omens or curses. The memory of cataclysms, cities swallowed by storms, blood raining for weeks, keeps mortals wary. Magic exists, but is erratic, shaped by the moods and bargains of the gods. Technology works unless directly opposed to divine will, creating pockets of inexplicable failure or uncanny success. Daily life is a dance of caution, bargains, and faith, where every shadow might hide a test or a trickster with celestial motives.
