Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.

[Helgraf]

Project Log
1. Requiem Mortis, Part 6
2. Mad Season Act II - Broken Aesops Completed
3. Standalone fic untitled
4. Dead Air - Escape from Castle Wulfenbach
5. IStLY

Mad Season - Act II
Broken Aesops

Songfic - Brain Damage, Pink Floyd

Author's Note

Spoiler

Show

The pieces for this have been in my brain, some of them since the very beginning; others arising more recently. I have made special request of Happy and Rabbit because I will be using them and quite possibly using them very badly - or at least, very grimly here and in the remainder of this arc.

The decision to make this a songfic was not a preplanned thing, but when I heard this song again, it struck me that it was perfect, that it would definitely be on "The Album of the Story", and it might even qualify as the title track.

Broken Aesops

Spoiler

Show

The lunatic is on the grass
The lunatic is on the grass
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs
Got to keep the loonies on the path

The soft patter of raindrops made gentle drumming music on the flagstones outside the asylum. It gathered in puddles, tiny rivulets who echoed the majesty of the Thames, upward thrumming with potential, then shedding the excess silently across the cobbles when they rose higher than their beds could contain.

The rain beaded and glistened and slid from wet cracks that could no longer contain it, joyous erosion that made the earth move. Even the rains of spring were fecund things.

Renfield hung his neck, contorted his body so his arms could just reach out the small window, so he could feel the chill patter of the rain against his crooked fingers, feel the chill kisses that trailed along his flesh, furrowed and slid over the wrists and down along his forearms, ending in tumescent nodules on his elbows before falling to the floor below. He considered the challenge the Master had set before him as he watched the water trails, watched them seperate and recombine, go alone or together. Noticed how his skin seemed, how through the film of the water, it changed, softened, came more to resemble that of the flits.

"Oh, master, you are too kind to your poor, lost, dream-addled Renfield," he husked, body trembling, tumbling in the ecstasy of the revelation. His path was once more clear before him, and he followed it into the maw, into the unknown territory, to the place on the map whose legend was those fateful words, "Here be Dragons." The tattered remains of his straightjacket lay balled in a corner, forlorn and forgotten.

The lunatic is in the hall.
The lunatics are in my hall.
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more.

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forbodings too
Ill see you on the dark side of the moon

The door opened slowly, and four eyes turned to regard it, this unordinary event, this disruption of routine. It was the one on the left, sitting on a small table, legs making an inverted v ending in her feet resting on the edge of same table, who moved first, legs sliding over to one side, a languid shifting from seated to standing. Her arms hung loosely, hands hovering just over her thighs, her expression much like that of a lioness whom has just spotted a particularly juicy gazelle in the grass nearby. She moved forward and to her right, approaching the interloper from the side, even as the owner of the other pair of eyes slid away from the wall she'd been leaning against and came up along the left; she was first to break the silence.

"Mmmm, what a lovely little bauble I espy upon the floor. Do you suppose it's as pretty on the inside," she murmured inquisitively, though to whom she spoke was of no certainty."

"Surely, my poppet. His heart drums the base of a beautiful chorus ... rich and complex and with such darling accompaniment. Just a little taste, I'm sure nobody would object."

He wobbled into the room, smiling an idiot's smile, as though completely unaware of the implied threat in their words, and te very definite predatory stance in the movement of those two lithe bodies as the came around to either side of him.

The dark-haired one slipped behind, one hand drawing the door closed with only a faint click. The redhead, who'd risen first, smiled a cold, cruel smile even as she reached out a hand and grabbed him by the back of the neck, pulling him close into a fierce embrace; a wet sucking kiss made all the worse when she pulled away, her face stained with crimson spatter which she licked slowly even as she threw him away using the hand on his neck as pivot, to land roughly at the knees of her companion. She leaned her head back as she swallowed, rising up on the balls of her toes and shivering, a sultry moan erupting from her throat, even as her companion kicked the poor man onto his back and placed her foot on his chest. She leaned in over him, and her eyes were alight with anticipation, her expression one that promised a slow unrelenting torment. One hand came down; nails raked over the lumpy, uneven and scarred chest.

"Someone's been at this one before," she observed, her voice a total contrast to her expression, cold, measured - professional. She looked up briefly, nose flared a moment in annoyance at the other's losing herself so readily and so soon, even as her fingers ran along the old scars, the stitchings, caressed each inch of lovingly excised and tormented flesh. She took a slow breath and released it. Felt the bones, where they'd broken and been reset. There was a pattern here, something she'd seen before, she was sure. It wasn't what they taught the Crown inquisitors, but the patterns felt strangely, elusively familiar.

"I'll have to open him up to be certain," she murmured.

"That's not fair at all. You'll be at him for hours, leaving me nothing to do but watch ... and while I simply adore your work, sister mine ... I have needs as well."

They stared at one another in a suddenly oppressive silence; the air between them seemed to sizzle with the intensity of their locked gazes.

A soft, bubbling cough drew their attention back to him. He warbled, murmuring in a weird sing-song manner.

"The lunatic is in my head.
The lunatic is in my head
You raise the blade,"

he began, pointing to the dark-haired woman,

"you make the change,"

he continued, finger swinging to the other, then gesturing, one hand to each,

"You re-arrange me 'til I'm sane.
You lock the door
And throw away the key"

He paused, giggling like a child a moment, thinking,

'There's someone in my head but it's not me.'

The two women regarded each other once more, a long, silent communication seeming to pass back and forth between them. Finally, the one whose foot sat on Renfield's chest spoke.

"It would be quite the challenge."

"Just think of what we could do with it."

"It has been rather dull lately..."

The redhead leaned into whisper something to the other's ear; slow cat's smiles curled on their lips.

"Him? Oooh, that would be perfect."

"We could have our very own"

The movement ends on a descending note, to the sounds of muffled screams and spattering blood. And outside, spring rains continue to fall...

And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear
And if the band youre in starts playing different tunes
Ill see you on the dark side of the moon

I can't think of anything to say except...
I think it's marvelous! HaHaHa!

[Destro_Yersul]

Crappit, I seem to have posted something on the last post of the previous page again. Hate when that happens. Ah well.

Your writing, Helgraf, is brilliant as always. Stop making me feel so inferior!

[Reinholdt]

@ Ms. Mal - I enjoyed rereading those. Excellent as always.

And now, the moment that you've all been waiting for. Well, ok, maybe you haven't. Maybe I'm a horrible failure of a writer and you all secretly hate me. I'm writing this anyways.

Songfics ahoy!

I Need A Hero
Artemis/Destro

Spoiler

Show

The castle rose, dark against the night sky. Torches and campfires burned in the field below it, the only signs of the invading army in the darkness. Artemis stood on a balcony looking down at them, wondering how she was supposed to fight so many. How she was supposed to keep her castle protected.

Yes, her castle. Every spire, every stone, it was hers. The many windows and halls had been kept dark of late, as protection against sharp-eyed archers. Her footsteps echoed through empty rooms and amongst tall towers as she walked the walls, ever vigilant.

Softly, she whispered to herself, repeating the questions that filled her mind every night. Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods? Where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds? Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night, I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need...

Moonlight shone off a drawn sword. In a clearing far away, a lone knight was kneeling. He raised his head to look at the distant castle, drawing himself to his feet and sheathing the sword. Nearby, his horse tossed its head, eager to move on. The knight nodded to it and leaped into the saddle.

I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night. He's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast and he's gotta be fresh from the fight. I need a hero. I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light.
He's gotta be sure and it's gotta be soon and he's gotta be larger than life!

larger than life.

Hooves pounded the dirt as the horse galloped through the forest. Low hanging branches whipped at the knight, glancing off his armour. He didn't feel them. Didn't even hear them. His attention was focused forward, on the ride. On the destination.

Somewhere after midnight in my wildest fantasy... Somewhere just beyond my reach there's someone reaching back for me. Artemis leaned on the balcony railing, staring out into the darkness. She hoped what she said was true, and that there was someone coming. In her mind, she could hear the thunder of hooves. Her voice rose, carrying down to the waiting army. Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat. It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet. I need a hero!

The knight and his steed broke from the cover of the forest, racing across the plain. Clouds rolled in ahead of him, the dark stone of the castle silhouetted against them. The moon was lost, and he rode on into the blackness. The amulet around his neck began to glow, throwing light across the ground as he ran.

From her balcony, Artemis saw the light, a single point out in the fields. Beyond the army, near the forest, the twinkling light was slowly getting closer. Up where the mountains meet the heavens above. Out where the lightning splits the sea. I could swear there is someone, somewhere, watching me.

Behind the castle, a bolt of lightning flashed to the ground. It lit up the night for a brief instant, allowing the knight a clear view of the army camped outside the gates. He drew his sword as he rode, a smile spreading across his face. The heavens opened and rain poured down, but he was undeterred.

Through the wind and the chill and the rain...

And the storm and the flood...

I can feel his approach like a fire in my blood.

The light was moving faster now, as it got closer. It stopped by the edge of a fire, light flashing off blades and armour. The scene was illuminated by another flash of lightning, and Artemis smiled to herself. Her hero had arrived.

She raised a hand, and the lightning flashed closer. It struck the ground by another fire, throwing men backwards and scorching the damp earth. The knight's amulet continued to give light, and she saw that he was steadily nearing the castle gates. She fled the balcony, running through the corridors and down a wide set of stairs to the main entrance hall. The doors flew open at her approach, letting her out into the storm. The wind whipped her dress around her as she spoke to the storm.

The knight pulled his sword from a soldier and spun around, decapitating another. His horse tore forwards, leaping over his head and drawing his attention towards the castle doors. They were opening.

He laughed and followed the horse, cutting down another man as he ran. Around him the wind raged, growing louder by the second. Fires were being snuffed out by a combination of wind and rain and lightning strikes.

The knight gained the door. Artemis smiled at him as he approached. She took a step forward to meet him, and then both faced the army. I think, the knight said, that it shouldn't take much more.

Some of the soldiers had already turned and ran The rest charged, and the knight's blade flashed. The two cut a swathe through the invaders, with him in front, keeping them at bay, and her behind, raining destruction on them.

By morning, the army had vanished, the soldiers killed or gone. Two people stood by the gates, looking out at the field as the sun rose.

You heard my call. It was not a question, just a statement.

The knight nodded in reply. I did. He turned to face her. You wanted a hero. I'm here.

Here, in the morning's light.

@ Destro - You paladin you.
*shoots with arrow from far away*
That's how you kill heroes.
Err.. grats though.

@ Helgraf - ...
...
eep.
*hides behind Destro, pushing him forward to deal with the problem*
Go be a hero! I'm right behind you! Literally.

[Lord Magtok]

Holy Remote Control Robot, Batman!

Spoiler

Show

Within the Playground Penitentiary, a woman strode forward, wordlessly waving her pass in front of the guards before stepping into the dark, padded cell of the wicked cyborg, and taking a seat opposite her enemy at the wooden table inside.

"Hello, Magtok. I came to talk. I've been thinking lately...About you and me. About what's going to happen to us in the end. We're going to kill each other, aren't we?"

The tin man did not respond, or even lift up his face to look at Happy, instead opting to carve some sort of doodle on the table with his finger, something that looked an awful lot like Magtok breaking out of the penitentiary while riding a radioactive flying attack whale.

"But that's only if we stay on this pointless, suicidal path. It's never too late to change, Magtok. Mordokai and so many others redeemed, we can do the same for you, if you'd just let me help you."

Still no response from Magtok, and now there was a scary laser cannon mounted to the attack whale in his drawing. A few wounded guards were scattered here and there, with little 'X's where their eyes would be.

"Mag, underneath the plots and the schemes and the rabid , I know there's a good person inside. You just have to trust me."

Happy had reached out to take the cyborg's hand, the one that wasn't all wires and metals, but the skin peeled right off, revealing a crudely wired bomb underneath.

"Magtok, what is th-"

"Decoy self-termination activated."

With hardly a moment to act, Happy shoved the table up on its side and shielded himself with the wood as the hologram generator shattered into shrapnel around the room. As she upended the table, she couldn't help but note a small letter that'd been taped there, and hurriedly removed it.

Hi Happy!

Sorry I had to stand you up and miss the whole redemption speech, but an old friend was in town, so I sneaked out to see him. You remember Mordokai, right? Anyways, Mordy and I will be at the MagCave.

Love,

Magtok

PS: Feel free to drop by, but try not to show up any later than midnight. Those radioactive mutant cyborg sharks get hungry, y'know.

As the guards ran in to investigate the strange noises from within the cell, Happy was already on her way out the door and out of the penitentiary. Magtok had to be stopped, his wicked plans could not be allowed to happen.

[hr]

This could not be happening, not to Tom. His would-be fiancee dead by his own stupid hands, his career ruined, and the performer himself lying in a hospital gurney, watching his heartbeat monitor through one mostly-bandaged eye as it made big erratic 'M's, up and down, constantly scrolling to the right. M, M, M, M. Something about that letter just clicked with him, felt right, the only comfort in this sick nightmare. This melodic, steady beat went on for quite some time, until a man in a blue-green scrubs stepped in front of the wounded man.

"Oh good, you're awake. Mr. Godlark, if you'd be so kind as to sign this waiver before you pass out again, we can test our revolutionary advances in reconstructive surgery."

A cold, smooth ballpoint pen was placed into Tom's hand, and his violet signature was guided along across the page by the man's hairy, sweaty paw. If he had any control left over the hand, it might've tried to resist.

"There. Now don't worry Mr. Godlark, you're in the best hands money can buy. Everything is going to be fine.

Tom tried to cry out from under the bandages, but found that an entire side of his face refused to cooperate. He couldn't move, speak, or even blink if he wanted to. This greasy surgeon was going to make Tom his guinea pig, and there was nothing that could be done to stop him.

[hr]

"Didn't you hear me, Mordokai? I said there's nothing anybody, much less you, can do to stop me. Right after I feed my fine fishy friends, the HindenMag zeppelins will take off, and after a few short bombing runs, I'll finally rule the world."

Elsewhere and in another time, Magtok continued to look over his designs, make sure there were absolutely no flaws this time, no "Lair Self-Destruct" buttons or conveniently placed levers to shut down everything.

"That's your evil plan? Scare everyone with giant balloons? I wish I believed in you enough to be disappointed."

Magtok whirled about in fury, to find that Mordokai had removed the gag, and was already working on the rest of his restraints.

"Well of course you wouldn't understand, you simpleminded stooge. They're more than just big balloons with big guns."

"Oh, of course. They're big MagBalloons with big MagGuns that have MagEngines, how could I be so naive?"

Mordokai grinned, but only for a moment, as Magtok angrily pulled a lever. The holy warrior's restraints suddenly snapped, and with a scream, he plummeted down into hungry abyss.

[Reinholdt]

Hmmm...
Nope. Still cried for Tom. And Magtok. Still very sad.
Very well written though.

[CurlyKitGirl]

Project Log
1. Requiem Mortis, Part 6
2. Mad Season Act II - Broken Aesops Completed
3. Standalone fic untitled
4. Dead Air - Escape from Castle Wulfenbach
5. IStLY

Mad Season - Act II
Broken Aesops

Songfic - Brain Damage, Pink Floyd

Author's Note

Spoiler

Show

The pieces for this have been in my brain, some of them since the very beginning; others arising more recently. I have made special request of Happy and Rabbit because I will be using them and quite possibly using them very badly - or at least, very grimly here and in the remainder of this arc.

The decision to make this a songfic was not a preplanned thing, but when I heard this song again, it struck me that it was perfect, that it would definitely be on "The Album of the Story", and it might even qualify as the title track.

Broken Aesops

Spoiler

Show

The lunatic is on the grass
The lunatic is on the grass
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs
Got to keep the loonies on the path

The soft patter of raindrops made gentle drumming music on the flagstones outside the asylum. It gathered in puddles, tiny rivulets who echoed the majesty of the Thames, upward thrumming with potential, then shedding the excess silently across the cobbles when they rose higher than their beds could contain.

The rain beaded and glistened and slid from wet cracks that could no longer contain it, joyous erosion that made the earth move. Even the rains of spring were fecund things.

Renfield hung his neck, contorted his body so his arms could just reach out the small window, so he could feel the chill patter of the rain against his crooked fingers, feel the chill kisses that trailed along his flesh, furrowed and slid over the wrists and down along his forearms, ending in tumescent nodules on his elbows before falling to the floor below. He considered the challenge the Master had set before him as he watched the water trails, watched them seperate and recombine, go alone or together. Noticed how his skin seemed, how through the film of the water, it changed, softened, came more to resemble that of the flits.

"Oh, master, you are too kind to your poor, lost, dream-addled Renfield," he husked, body trembling, tumbling in the ecstasy of the revelation. His path was once more clear before him, and he followed it into the maw, into the unknown territory, to the place on the map whose legend was those fateful words, "Here be Dragons." The tattered remains of his straightjacket lay balled in a corner, forlorn and forgotten.

The lunatic is in the hall.
The lunatics are in my hall.
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more.

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forbodings too
Ill see you on the dark side of the moon

The door opened slowly, and four eyes turned to regard it, this unordinary event, this disruption of routine. It was the one on the left, sitting on a small table, legs making an inverted v ending in her feet resting on the edge of same table, who moved first, legs sliding over to one side, a languid shifting from seated to standing. Her arms hung loosely, hands hovering just over her thighs, her expression much like that of a lioness whom has just spotted a particularly juicy gazelle in the grass nearby. She moved forward and to her right, approaching the interloper from the side, even as the owner of the other pair of eyes slid away from the wall she'd been leaning against and came up along the left; she was first to break the silence.

"Mmmm, what a lovely little bauble I espy upon the floor. Do you suppose it's as pretty on the inside," she murmured inquisitively, though to whom she spoke was of no certainty."

"Surely, my poppet. His heart drums the base of a beautiful chorus ... rich and complex and with such darling accompaniment. Just a little taste, I'm sure nobody would object."

He wobbled into the room, smiling an idiot's smile, as though completely unaware of the implied threat in their words, and te very definite predatory stance in the movement of those two lithe bodies as the came around to either side of him.

The dark-haired one slipped behind, one hand drawing the door closed with only a faint click. The redhead, who'd risen first, smiled a cold, cruel smile even as she reached out a hand and grabbed him by the back of the neck, pulling him close into a fierce embrace; a wet sucking kiss made all the worse when she pulled away, her face stained with crimson spatter which she licked slowly even as she threw him away using the hand on his neck as pivot, to land roughly at the knees of her companion. She leaned her head back as she swallowed, rising up on the balls of her toes and shivering, a sultry moan erupting from her throat, even as her companion kicked the poor man onto his back and placed her foot on his chest. She leaned in over him, and her eyes were alight with anticipation, her expression one that promised a slow unrelenting torment. One hand came down; nails raked over the lumpy, uneven and scarred chest.

"Someone's been at this one before," she observed, her voice a total contrast to her expression, cold, measured - professional. She looked up briefly, nose flared a moment in annoyance at the other's losing herself so readily and so soon, even as her fingers ran along the old scars, the stitchings, caressed each inch of lovingly excised and tormented flesh. She took a slow breath and released it. Felt the bones, where they'd broken and been reset. There was a pattern here, something she'd seen before, she was sure. It wasn't what they taught the Crown inquisitors, but the patterns felt strangely, elusively familiar.

"I'll have to open him up to be certain," she murmured.

"That's not fair at all. You'll be at him for hours, leaving me nothing to do but watch ... and while I simply adore your work, sister mine ... I have needs as well."

They stared at one another in a suddenly oppressive silence; the air between them seemed to sizzle with the intensity of their locked gazes.

A soft, bubbling cough drew their attention back to him. He warbled, murmuring in a weird sing-song manner.

"The lunatic is in my head.
The lunatic is in my head
You raise the blade,"

he began, pointing to the dark-haired woman,

"you make the change,"

he continued, finger swinging to the other, then gesturing, one hand to each,

"You re-arrange me 'til I'm sane.
You lock the door
And throw away the key"

He paused, giggling like a child a moment, thinking,

'There's someone in my head but it's not me.'

The two women regarded each other once more, a long, silent communication seeming to pass back and forth between them. Finally, the one whose foot sat on Renfield's chest spoke.

"It would be quite the challenge."

"Just think of what we could do with it."

"It has been rather dull lately..."

The redhead leaned into whisper something to the other's ear; slow cat's smiles curled on their lips.

"Him? Oooh, that would be perfect."

"We could have our very own"

The movement ends on a descending note, to the sounds of muffled screams and spattering blood. And outside, spring rains continue to fall...

And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear
And if the band youre in starts playing different tunes
Ill see you on the dark side of the moon

I can't think of anything to say except...
I think it's marvelous! HaHaHa!

. . . Glorious!
'Operations'/'autopsies'; insanity, a deluded pair of nymphomaniacs? Or easily aroused people; chilling songs, erotically sensuous violence.
I like very, very much indeed.
What else can I say? Your standards get higher with every story or chapter posted and leave us staring up at you as you incresingly mount the staircase of literary wonder.

Queenfics

Spoiler

Show

Don't Stop Me Now
Spread Your Wings
Who Wants To Live Forever?
I Want To Break Free
Love Of My Life
You Don't Fool Me
Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon
Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy
Bohemian Rhapsody
Killer Queen
The Show Must Go On
Too Much Love Will Kill You
You're My Best Friend
I Want It All
Another One Bites The Dust
Save Me
The Invisible Man
Bicycle Race
Barcelona
We Are The Champions
Scandal
Bijou
In the Lap of the Gods

Daddy Tooby Subsection

Seaside Rendezvous Ep. - 2
Friends Will Be Friends Ep. 0

Mordokai/happy
’39

Spoiler

Show

Hear my tale, O little ones, of the heroes of an age past; aye, and of villains too. Here me tell of the love that spawned a great evil and how that evil was ended by another greater love.

Evil! Is there anything more pervading? Evil comes in many forms after all, and the most insidious is that which we do not see. But there is also love. Love is that which is seen and never seen. And this, O listeners, is power. May the Gods bless me as I recount my tale.

In the year of thirty-nine
Assembled here the volunteers
In the days when lands were few
Here the ship sailed out into the blue and sunny morn
The sweetest sight ever seen.
And the night followed day
And the story tellers say,
That the score brave souls inside
For many a lonely day
Sailed across the milky seas
Ne'er looked back, never feared, never cried.

The Eight Fiefdoms were a scary place. Scarier now that the Lord Magtok was scheming and plotting his way through the destruction of human and ethereal society and stringing conflicts together, enmeshing those at the centre of each one in a morass of thread from which they could not escape alone.

The healer and the paladin and the warrior - sorceress, each at their own centre and all three merge to create an inexplicable power greater than gravity. Fate perhaps. To them and around them are the brave ones who step forward or are pulled knowingly into orbit around their strife and triumphs. All seek revenge.

So from innocent dryad to demented omniscient Seer, along with their temporary allies – numbering less than a score total – set forth to destroy the self–made evil that was the Lord Magtok from eradicating the world.

Day and night followed without pause as the questers sought their enemies.
Seasons fell and rose with precision, but alas, there was a malformation nonetheless with the dancing of worlds.

Seven hundred years before now there were no anamchar'on bones. There was a great enchantress – a child raised in nature whose power was such that it polarised the creatures of the ethereal realms who live amongst us. The weak and the greedy sought to devour her, to take within her power and to kill the threat. The enchantress Phoe fought endlessly, and at the last her great talents and the circling primal magics neutralised each other into death and the anamchar'on bones.

Four hundred and fifty years before this telling a paladin sought out the current possessor of the anamchar'on bones. A powerful and erratic healer called Happyturtle. The paladin wished to take the bones, but he and the healer fell in love; eventually the two decided that the paladin would forswear his vows, the healer would give up her powers to her guardian deity and they would live in love and harmony. And so they both began to fall.

The despicable human bandit chief Magtok though, tended into a semblance of health by the compassionate possessor of the anamchar'on bones lusted after the woman and her beauty. So he made a deal with the Dark Tempters; the whisperers in the dark of the edges of human settlements; the weak and cowardly who come in droves, and he gave unto them his soul for the purging of all benevolence and became a half – thing. Unnatural in form and thought. The unnatural dimidium vir who would rise to become the Lord Magtok.

This is all well known, but where the tale corrupts is that the warrior - soceress who was killed by Magtok for jealousy and lust and the silver’d paladin of Sune, Mordokai who was sealed into death for fifty years, were not true lovers. Nor was the first woman the second. Three hundred years ago the warrior - sorceress was born: the Shaper and Caster of the bones. On her twentieth birthday the mirror opened and she entered this world to awaken the heroic paladin Mordokai. So was the cause Phoe, or the Lord Magtok, or the birth of the warrior - sorceress for entering our world?

Don't you hear my call
‘Though you're many years away?
Don't you hear me calling you?
Write your letters in the sand
For the day I'll take your hand
In the land that our grand-children knew

And the Shaper and Caster of the bones needed to live in both her worlds or her heart would weaken into brittle chalk. But when her heart was fortified by the magics in her first world it glowed with a strength nigh unmatched. And to them came the Demon, the demented Seer in Blood, the Cat, and the Fighter.

So to her home through the mystical Mirror of the Icefields bearing the concentrated magics of thousands of ethereals and humans, through the mirror she went, into the dark blue shimmerings across the firmament itself, journey through countless leagues to find her soft solace of a loving family.

Soft – eyed Mordokai, not knowing of her hidden weakness, nor recalling the love of a family oftentimes came a–seeking his love (for he knew then that Happyturtle was gone and forgotten even if a polluted healer had brought her grave leavings into a semblance of Happy; and he knew, too, more than anything else, that his heart yearned for his love) to dull the pain.

He called to her, and yet she heard not. Nor did the young warrior - sorceress child see the signs that others recognised as his love for her. She only saw him as abusing her powers to rectify his past mistakes and loss of faith. Rabbit the Shaper and Caster loved the silver’d paladin truly, but her sight was clouded by the parasitical healer Happy who lived by theft of the ethereal's life magics. How could the sky – eyed Mordokai love her when the Guardian healer walked?

The Shaper and Caster tried in vain to show the protecting silver’d one the truth; to teach him the letters and learnings of both worlds that squared themselves systematically and gracefully in rows along soft parchment so he would read her words of love. He did not learn. She tried tests of old, patiently scratching cyphers into the Tree of Worlds so their names would live forever and beyond. But they were scarred out by the new growths and the hope of dozens of scores of others. She took it as a sign they were not to be, for all they held hands and loved chastely in her world where the shades of her friends lived and prospered in other lives.

And so the healer who failed in guarding the bones, the hanyou who joyed in protecting and the miko whose goal was to undo her error were caught in an endless tidal pool of loves unrecognised and needed.

The tale of the defeat of the dimidium vir is one sung and read in the shadowed night while we huddle by the fire glancing again and again into the summoning darkness. I tell you not this story, but the one behind it. And now let us now the end after the end so that we may remember and tell it over and over, so they may never die.

In the year of thirty-nine
Came a ship in from the blue
The volunteers came home that day
And they bring good news
Of a world so newly born
Though their hearts so heavily weigh
For the earth is old and grey
little darlin' well away
But my love this cannot be,
Oh so many years have gone
Though I'm older but a year
Your mother's eyes from your eyes cry to me

With the renewing of the bones came greatest sorrow. The second warrior - sorceress had given her life in her second world to save them all and remove the anamchar'on bones' malevolent sentience from the world eternally. Mordokai, the heroic silver paladin was bereft of his heart's love, Rabbit; saviour of an age and a world was bereft of her heart's love and her new family.

Without the other the world faded away. Monotony and routine became the life they lived. Awaking not to rosy fingered dawns with love, but the grey blanket of unrelenting clouds. Tell me, you who are listening with open eyes and a sympathetic heart, how would it feel to lose half your soul, to know that they still live, but that they will be dead ‘ere you make it to their home?

Mordokai, he who knew his heart’s love off by heart saw all around fragments and pieces of his shattered love. Eyes in a laughing child, they were Rabbit's; perhaps that was where her eyes came from. The arrogance of the educated flowed all around him: the Seer, the Cat, his foolish friend and his dryad.

All was her. She was all, even without him.

Nothing was he. He was nothing without her.

Don't you hear my call
Though you're many years away?
Don't you hear me calling you?
All your letters in the sand
Cannot heal me like your hand
For my life, still ahead, pity me.

With the recreation of the bones came greatest sorrow. The silver’d paladin had given his love to save her, and then had been unjustly punished by her return to her first world. The Shadper and Caster knew it was good and right that the unthinking pollution of the anamchar'on bones was eternally gone; but could it truly be worth the price of her happiness and her love? Noone was as happy as they should have been. Rabbit, the compassionate and defiant Shaper was dragged away from her soul mate. Mordokai; saviour of an age and a world was bereft of his soul mate and his new family that was hers firstly.

Dragged she was into ordinariness and the routine of work and idle fun. It paled before the sun – haired Mordokai with eyes of sky. It withered before the intensity of an age where every day was a battle and a gift from the great Gods above. How could she go out into the world without seeing the concerned eyes of the Protector above her? How could she look at the sun? How could she even look at the Tree of Worlds when every memory she had of Mordokai was permanently bound to the tree which was the sentinel to where he had slept ‘til she woke him, the tree where he had watched constantly to save what she loved even if he didn’t? The tree where he had reaffirmed his vows to Sune.

All was he. He was all, even without her.

Nothing was she. She was nothing without him.

After all, she was only human, and humans are like the passing of seasons: unnoticed.

May the Gods bless them, who are separated by that which brought them together – ah, yes, there is more. But every end is a beginning, and I tell no beginnings. Only ends and stilled moments. Maybe the morrow will begin with the beginning. But now, the end is all.

May the Gods bless them, who are separated by that which brought them together, and may all who hear their pitious tale be moved into remembering their great sacrifice.

It's been a while hasn't it?
Hope you enjoyed.

[Helgraf]

. . . Glorious!
'Operations'/'autopsies'; insanity, a deluded pair of nymphomaniacs? Or easily aroused people; chilling songs, erotically sensuous violence.
I like very, very much indeed.
What else can I say? Your standards get higher with every story or chapter posted and leave us staring up at you as you increasingly mount the staircase of literary wonder.

Eep.

Mordokai/happy
’39

Spoiler

Show

Hear my tale, O little ones, of the heroes of an age past; aye, and of villains too. Here me tell of the love that spawned a great evil and how that evil was ended by another greater love.

Evil! Is there anything more pervading? Evil comes in many forms after all, and the most insidious is that which we do not see. But there is also love. Love is that which is seen and never seen. And this, O listeners, is power. May the Gods bless me as I recount my tale.

In the year of thirty-nine
Assembled here the volunteers
In the days when lands were few
Here the ship sailed out into the blue and sunny morn
The sweetest sight ever seen.
And the night followed day
And the story tellers say,
That the score brave souls inside
For many a lonely day
Sailed across the milky seas
Ne'er looked back, never feared, never cried.

The Eight Fiefdoms were a scary place. Scarier now that the Lord Magtok was scheming and plotting his way through the destruction of human and ethereal society and stringing conflicts together, enmeshing those at the centre of each one in a morass of thread from which they could not escape alone.

The healer and the paladin and the warrior - sorceress, each at their own centre and all three merge to create an inexplicable power greater than gravity. Fate perhaps. To them and around them are the brave ones who step forward or are pulled knowingly into orbit around their strife and triumphs. All seek revenge.

So from innocent dryad to demented omniscient Seer, along with their temporary allies – numbering less than a score total – set forth to destroy the self–made evil that was the Lord Magtok from eradicating the world.

Day and night followed without pause as the questers sought their enemies.
Seasons fell and rose with precision, but alas, there was a malformation nonetheless with the dancing of worlds.

Seven hundred years before now there were no anamchar'on bones. There was a great enchantress – a child raised in nature whose power was such that it polarised the creatures of the ethereal realms who live amongst us. The weak and the greedy sought to devour her, to take within her power and to kill the threat. The enchantress Phoe fought endlessly, and at the last her great talents and the circling primal magics neutralised each other into death and the anamchar'on bones.

Four hundred and fifty years before this telling a paladin sought out the current possessor of the anamchar'on bones. A powerful and erratic healer called Happyturtle. The paladin wished to take the bones, but he and the healer fell in love; eventually the two decided that the paladin would forswear his vows, the healer would give up her powers to her guardian deity and they would live in love and harmony. And so they both began to fall.

The despicable human bandit chief Magtok though, tended into a semblance of health by the compassionate possessor of the anamchar'on bones lusted after the woman and her beauty. So he made a deal with the Dark Tempters; the whisperers in the dark of the edges of human settlements; the weak and cowardly who come in droves, and he gave unto them his soul for the purging of all benevolence and became a half – thing. Unnatural in form and thought. The unnatural dimidium vir who would rise to become the Lord Magtok.

This is all well known, but where the tale corrupts is that the warrior - soceress who was killed by Magtok for jealousy and lust and the silver’d paladin of Sune, Mordokai who was sealed into death for fifty years, were not true lovers. Nor was the first woman the second. Three hundred years ago the warrior - sorceress was born: the Shaper and Caster of the bones. On her twentieth birthday the mirror opened and she entered this world to awaken the heroic paladin Mordokai. So was the cause Phoe, or the Lord Magtok, or the birth of the warrior - sorceress for entering our world?

Don't you hear my call
‘Though you're many years away?
Don't you hear me calling you?
Write your letters in the sand
For the day I'll take your hand
In the land that our grand-children knew

And the Shaper and Caster of the bones needed to live in both her worlds or her heart would weaken into brittle chalk. But when her heart was fortified by the magics in her first world it glowed with a strength nigh unmatched. And to them came the Demon, the demented Seer in Blood, the Cat, and the Fighter.

So to her home through the mystical Mirror of the Icefields bearing the concentrated magics of thousands of ethereals and humans, through the mirror she went, into the dark blue shimmerings across the firmament itself, journey through countless leagues to find her soft solace of a loving family.

Soft – eyed Mordokai, not knowing of her hidden weakness, nor recalling the love of a family oftentimes came a–seeking his love (for he knew then that Happyturtle was gone and forgotten even if a polluted healer had brought her grave leavings into a semblance of Happy; and he knew, too, more than anything else, that his heart yearned for his love) to dull the pain.

He called to her, and yet she heard not. Nor did the young warrior - sorceress child see the signs that others recognised as his love for her. She only saw him as abusing her powers to rectify his past mistakes and loss of faith. Rabbit the Shaper and Caster loved the silver’d paladin truly, but her sight was clouded by the parasitical healer Happy who lived by theft of the ethereal's life magics. How could the sky – eyed Mordokai love her when the Guardian healer walked?

The Shaper and Caster tried in vain to show the protecting silver’d one the truth; to teach him the letters and learnings of both worlds that squared themselves systematically and gracefully in rows along soft parchment so he would read her words of love. He did not learn. She tried tests of old, patiently scratching cyphers into the Tree of Worlds so their names would live forever and beyond. But they were scarred out by the new growths and the hope of dozens of scores of others. She took it as a sign they were not to be, for all they held hands and loved chastely in her world where the shades of her friends lived and prospered in other lives.

And so the healer who failed in guarding the bones, the hanyou who joyed in protecting and the miko whose goal was to undo her error were caught in an endless tidal pool of loves unrecognised and needed.

The tale of the defeat of the dimidium vir is one sung and read in the shadowed night while we huddle by the fire glancing again and again into the summoning darkness. I tell you not this story, but the one behind it. And now let us now the end after the end so that we may remember and tell it over and over, so they may never die.

In the year of thirty-nine
Came a ship in from the blue
The volunteers came home that day
And they bring good news
Of a world so newly born
Though their hearts so heavily weigh
For the earth is old and grey
little darlin' well away
But my love this cannot be,
Oh so many years have gone
Though I'm older but a year
Your mother's eyes from your eyes cry to me

With the renewing of the bones came greatest sorrow. The second warrior - sorceress had given her life in her second world to save them all and remove the anamchar'on bones' malevolent sentience from the world eternally. Mordokai, the heroic silver paladin was bereft of his heart's love, Rabbit; saviour of an age and a world was bereft of her heart's love and her new family.

Without the other the world faded away. Monotony and routine became the life they lived. Awaking not to rosy fingered dawns with love, but the grey blanket of unrelenting clouds. Tell me, you who are listening with open eyes and a sympathetic heart, how would it feel to lose half your soul, to know that they still live, but that they will be dead ‘ere you make it to their home?

Mordokai, he who knew his heart’s love off by heart saw all around fragments and pieces of his shattered love. Eyes in a laughing child, they were Rabbit's; perhaps that was where her eyes came from. The arrogance of the educated flowed all around him: the Seer, the Cat, his foolish friend and his dryad.

All was her. She was all, even without him.

Nothing was he. He was nothing without her.

Don't you hear my call
Though you're many years away?
Don't you hear me calling you?
All your letters in the sand
Cannot heal me like your hand
For my life, still ahead, pity me.

With the recreation of the bones came greatest sorrow. The silver’d paladin had given his love to save her, and then had been unjustly punished by her return to her first world. The Shadper and Caster knew it was good and right that the unthinking pollution of the anamchar'on bones was eternally gone; but could it truly be worth the price of her happiness and her love? Noone was as happy as they should have been. Rabbit, the compassionate and defiant Shaper was dragged away from her soul mate. Mordokai; saviour of an age and a world was bereft of his soul mate and his new family that was hers firstly.

Dragged she was into ordinariness and the routine of work and idle fun. It paled before the sun – haired Mordokai with eyes of sky. It withered before the intensity of an age where every day was a battle and a gift from the great Gods above. How could she go out into the world without seeing the concerned eyes of the Protector above her? How could she look at the sun? How could she even look at the Tree of Worlds when every memory she had of Mordokai was permanently bound to the tree which was the sentinel to where he had slept ‘til she woke him, the tree where he had watched constantly to save what she loved even if he didn’t? The tree where he had reaffirmed his vows to Sune.

All was he. He was all, even without her.

Nothing was she. She was nothing without him.

After all, she was only human, and humans are like the passing of seasons: unnoticed.

May the Gods bless them, who are separated by that which brought them together – ah, yes, there is more. But every end is a beginning, and I tell no beginnings. Only ends and stilled moments. Maybe the morrow will begin with the beginning. But now, the end is all.

May the Gods bless them, who are separated by that which brought them together, and may all who hear their pitious tale be moved into remembering their great sacrifice.

It's been a while hasn't it?
Hope you enjoyed.

Soft, velvet despair
Whose ache crosses the void
and echoes through the ages

The aberrant repair
of two realms' wrongs devoid
passions split and rages

Only heartbreak remains...

[Nameless]

Scene

Spoiler

Show

The fight was brutal and left many wounded and some Nameless people dead.

Dallas was just walking back to where two not-so-clothed women and a very much blushing catboy were standing.
On closer inspection, one of the two women, Megan Foxxx had been turned into a zombie. The catboy was licking his own wounds, while Rabbit was using Megan as a chair.

Well umm, where were we?
I have no idea. Hmm, where are my main actors anyway?
Well I can see the bartender and the lich still at the bar. Which by the way, was a bit roughed up. There was still liquor, so it's still a bar, alright.
I can see some pink armor dropped over there...>But...
Intact...And no blood...
And that black cloak and armor over there...
Also intact...And also no blood..
...
Rabbit and Dallas followed the trail of armor and clothes and wound up eyeing the door to a closet.
Suddenly sounds and voices came from there.
''Oh good, you woke up.''
*clank*
''What?! Get away from me!'' Clank, krtrgh, bash. Friggen' what the get away you devil woman! Sto-'' and suddenly his voice was muffled and only sounds came from the closet.

''You don't suppose?''
''Dallas, you've always been a perv.''
''That's who I am!'' He exlaimed proudly.
''Anyway, even the mental image alone is too horrorifc to imagine, so nahhhh.
''Yeah, you're right. Nahhh, couldn't be.''
Suddenly voices came from the closet again.
''Mwuh! Argh! HELP! HELP ME! STO-MPHM-IS DEVIL WOMAN!''
''Oh baby, you want to see me being a woman?!''

Yeah, this was mostly me doing very mentally explicit non-explicit GB'd Fred/Grim Ranger.

I see what you did there.

[Lord Magtok]

Here's another chapter. That's two in one day now, isn't it? I should probably slow down a little.

Holy Alter Ego, Batman!

Spoiler

Show

"Wake up, Mr. Godlark. C'mon Tom, your crowd is waiting."

It was about three weeks later, and that slimy doctor was hovering over him once more, with an obscenely bright light behind him, and the strong odor of some disinfectant excessively used on the turquoise room around him. Those greasy, icky hands approached him once again, effortlessly peeling off what Tom had worriedly assumed was the skin on his face, but turned out to simply be a mask of gauze.

"Whu...What?"

He blinked a few times, putting eyelids to use that he certainly hadn't had a few days ago. The left side of his face and body felt vaguely numb and chilly, and there was a slight red tint to half of his vision. And there was something horribly off about his own voice, too.

"Thanks to Tom's own excessively generous contributions to the Innsmouth Medical Center and the our own hardworking staff, I can proudly say that Mr. Godlark has been reborn. Able to think at three times normal human speeds, wire information directly into his mind, and without any of his extraordinary reflexes harmed in the least, he is to become the next evolutionary step for humanity."

Tom lifted himself up to a sitting position, and was immediately greeted with more bright lights, the flashes of dozens of cameras briefly blinding him once again. He raised his left hand to shield his eyes, only to find something horribly wrong with his arm.

"You...you...what is this?! You turned me into a robot?!"

Doctor Sleaze chuckled, and patted Tom on the glistening steel half of his face.

"Not a robot, a cyborg, my dear boy! Exactly as your papers requested. Try to remember, you've just been through a great deal, you're probably not remembering more than a few things properly yet, it's sure to pass soon enough, though."

Tom opened his mouth to speak, but the surgeon had already slipped away. Reporters were barking out invasive and disorienting questions, and still more pictures were being snapped. His beloved was dead, his career was dead, and now, as far as he could tell, he was dead, too. All the trauma stacked higher and higher until suddenly, it just didn't seem worth the bother to pay it anymore attention. It was as if he just went emotionally numb, that his mind scooped up all those troubles, and dumped them into a handy recycling bin.

Tom looked at the heart monitor once more, and decided that he just couldn't go on calling himself Tom Godlark, not when the letter M was so bouncy and cheery and wonderful, a letter that so loyally stood by his side throughout the entire ordeal. Lord Magtok was his old stage name, that lovely little anagram he designed, wasn't it? Yes, Magtok would do nicely.

With a shrug, the cyborg climbed out of the bed, "borrowed" a camera's tripod, stepped past the frenzied press, and quickly jammed the door behind him with the thing. Briskly hurrying down the hall, he caught up to the doctor, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and smashing the man against a shiny turquoise wall.

"Wha-what are you doing?! There's reporters everywhere, you'll-"

Reporters. If a little bad press here and there never stopped Tom, why would it bother Magtok? And in any case, those silly paparazzi and their pesky flashing cameras were locked up in his room.

The newly made man hoisted the doctor back up, and smashed him against one of the large glass windows separating the people inside from the busy streets down below. The glass shattered, and for one unsteady moment, Mag thought he was going to lose his footing and go falling down with this worm.

"Now tell me, who did this?"

"Y-your rival, he said that if I-"

"The Marvelous Mangosta, why of course. Hey, can I borrow that for a sec?"

Magtok took the doctor's cell phone out of a pocket, consequently dropping the man as well, before turning around to dial a number. He cleared his throat, and waited patiently for the answering machine to tell him to leave a message.

"Hello, Mango? This is Tom. Well, the guy who used to be Tom, anyways. I'm switching to that "Lord Magtok" identity, you remember that old gig? Anyways, just wanted to let you know that I'll be visiting over the weekend. Give me a call when you get the chance."

With a click, the phone was tucked away and shut, and Magtok gazed down through the shattered window.

"Hey doc, thanks for letting me borrow your...Oh. Oh right, I dropped you. Eww, you sure made a mess down there. I guess I'll just hold on to this for you, then..."

And with eyes darting left and right, Magtok tucked the phone away into his hospital gown, and hurried away. He'd need his old performance robes, a couple scalpels, a wallet, and a mirror.

[Mordokai]

*ties an anvil to Maggy's ankles*

That should do the trick

*pushes into river while whistling nonchalantly*

Now, to do some reading...

[Grim ranger]

Here's another chapter. That's two in one day now, isn't it? I should probably slow down a little.

Holy Alter Ego, Batman!

Spoiler

Show

"Wake up, Mr. Godlark. C'mon Tom, your crowd is waiting."

It was about three weeks later, and that slimy doctor was hovering over him once more, with an obscenely bright light behind him, and the strong odor of some disinfectant excessively used on the turquoise room around him. Those greasy, icky hands approached him once again, effortlessly peeling off what Tom had worriedly assumed was the skin on his face, but turned out to simply be a mask of gauze.

"Whu...What?"

He blinked a few times, putting eyelids to use that he certainly hadn't had a few days ago. The left side of his face and body felt vaguely numb and chilly, and there was a slight red tint to half of his vision. And there was something horribly off about his own voice, too.

"Thanks to Tom's own excessively generous contributions to the Innsmouth Medical Center and the our own hardworking staff, I can proudly say that Mr. Godlark has been reborn. Able to think at three times normal human speeds, wire information directly into his mind, and without any of his extraordinary reflexes harmed in the least, he is to become the next evolutionary step for humanity."

Tom lifted himself up to a sitting position, and was immediately greeted with more bright lights, the flashes of dozens of cameras briefly blinding him once again. He raised his left hand to shield his eyes, only to find something horribly wrong with his arm.

"You...you...what is this?! You turned me into a robot?!"

Doctor Sleaze chuckled, and patted Tom on the glistening steel half of his face.

"Not a robot, a cyborg, my dear boy! Exactly as your papers requested. Try to remember, you've just been through a great deal, you're probably not remembering more than a few things properly yet, it's sure to pass soon enough, though."

Tom opened his mouth to speak, but the surgeon had already slipped away. Reporters were barking out invasive and disorienting questions, and still more pictures were being snapped. His beloved was dead, his career was dead, and now, as far as he could tell, he was dead, too. All the trauma stacked higher and higher until suddenly, it just didn't seem worth the bother to pay it anymore attention. It was as if he just went emotionally numb, that his mind scooped up all those troubles, and dumped them into a handy recycling bin.

Tom looked at the heart monitor once more, and decided that he just couldn't go on calling himself Tom Godlark, not when the letter M was so bouncy and cheery and wonderful, a letter that so loyally stood by his side throughout the entire ordeal. Lord Magtok was his old stage name, that lovely little anagram he designed, wasn't it? Yes, Magtok would do nicely.

With a shrug, the cyborg climbed out of the bed, "borrowed" a camera's tripod, stepped past the frenzied press, and quickly jammed the door behind him with the thing. Briskly hurrying down the hall, he caught up to the doctor, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and smashing the man against a shiny turquoise wall.

"Wha-what are you doing?! There's reporters everywhere, you'll-"

Reporters. If a little bad press here and there never stopped Tom, why would it bother Magtok? And in any case, those silly paparazzi and their pesky flashing cameras were locked up in his room.

The newly made man hoisted the doctor back up, and smashed him against one of the large glass windows separating the people inside from the busy streets down below. The glass shattered, and for one unsteady moment, Mag thought he was going to lose his footing and go falling down with this worm.

"Now tell me, who did this?"

"Y-your rival, he said that if I-"

"The Marvelous Mangosta, why of course. Hey, can I borrow that for a sec?"

Magtok took the doctor's cell phone out of a pocket, consequently dropping the man as well, before turning around to dial a number. He cleared his throat, and waited patiently for the answering machine to tell him to leave a message.

"Hello, Mango? This is Tom. Well, the guy who used to be Tom, anyways. I'm switching to that "Lord Magtok" identity, you remember that old gig? Anyways, just wanted to let you know that I'll be visiting over the weekend. Give me a call when you get the chance."

With a click, the phone was tucked away and shut, and Magtok gazed down through the shattered window.

"Hey doc, thanks for letting me borrow your...Oh. Oh right, I dropped you. Eww, you sure made a mess down there. I guess I'll just hold on to this for you, then..."

And with eyes darting left and right, Magtok tucked the phone away into his hospital gown, and hurried away. He'd need his old performance robes, a couple scalpels, a wallet, and a mirror.

This is definitely one of finest fics I have read, ever. I think it is touching in a way.

[horngeek]

So that's how Magtok became a supervillian...

[EleventhHour]

So that's how Magtok became a supervillian...

And now you know, the rest, of the story.

[mangosta71]

I always knew that I would have a hand in the subjugation of humanity.

[Grim ranger]

I always knew that I would have a hand in the subjugation of humanity.

Now where can I learn to perform such villanous villany? You are starting to shape up as my role model

@V: Not only him, I look up to all evildoers with infamy around here. I want to avoid becoming cheap copy out of someone else

[Fredthefighter]

Now where can I learn to perform such villanous villany? You are starting to shape up as my role model

If Mangosta is Grim Ranger's vilainous role model.... then who is my heroic role model?

[Dallas-Dakota]

>.>



....

Wait, I'm actually not that Heroic.

Fred, I think Twobit is more your Role Model.


And I have't seen him in some time. Hmm.

[Fredthefighter]

>.>



....

Wait, I'm actually not that Heroic.

Fred, I think Twobit is more your Role Model.


And I have't seen him in some time. Hmm.

Well, from what I know of the playground family:

You and Dragonprime are the same person, and as such my fathers.
Coplantor is my adopted father.
And I remember from somewhere that Rabbit is my mother.

Other than that I have no idea. There are plenty of people that I look up to. I just meant as heroic inspiration.

[Jesse Drake]

Well, after some curious investigating, I decided I'm gonna throw my goggles into the shipping thread, putting myself up for grabs and contributing this rookie piece. This is not a romantic ship! All my romance attempts in writing end with a terrible terrible heart break, so I think I'll save those attempts for later. Any love in this is platonic love, good ol' fashioned bromance, with no homo erotic nature.

Characters involved- Well, I'm going with some of my favorite playgrounders here, not that I dislike anyone, I just think these two are a perfect pair. Once again, platonic relationship, so don't worry Freddy, you and Grim aren't gonna do anything weird. Also guest starring Lord Fullbladder and Lord Magtok.

Okay, a note about my style of writing.

Spoiler

Show

I write comic books, so I may lack a few details, so I try to explain a bit before I get into the good stuff. Please bare with me, as I haven't written anything without scribbling my poor pictures alongside it in a long time. Though my pictures are getting better, I have to go on since my illustrator moved... But I digress.

Spoiler

Show

Clash High, Swing Low

Once their existed a world not to different from our medieval society. While it did have magic and monsters inhabiting it, it also had a fair amount of human kingdoms. This takes place in Sorieka, the biggest human kingdom in the land. While many cities in Sorieka were big and glamorous, Cervil, a small village north of the Kronok river, was not. It thrived well, but mainly cause its few diligent families worked well in their community.

Everyone knew everyone, and no one had anything bad to say about any one. It was nice. Its no wonder Frederick, the smithy's son, and Griggs, the tailor's son, became best of friends. While they weren't the richest of young kids, they were special in the fact they always had well made swords, and fine stitched clothing. They had a perfect friendship.

The two boys are 13, ripe for the picking to become knights, though they'd never do so. Though it didn't matter. They had been training with blades for several years now. They were masterful in their art. The whole village would gather on perfect nights to watch the boys spar. It was a magnificent art they practiced.

Frederick smiled as he and Grigg clashed blades. "Grigg, old pal, this has truely been a great lifestyle. Could you imagine being knights?" He never let go of his stance. While he could slash and dodge while swinging a blade, he knew Grigg could not. Grigg only grunted what could be interpreted as "Yeah, all the time", though you'd have to know him as well as Frederick to do so.

The two fought hard, but they came to their usual finish with the clashing of blades high, followed by a swift spinning maneuver, with them clashing blades at the bottom.

Everyone clapped and cheered, the baker and his family brought them delicious treats, the fisherman gave them a very savory cooked sturgeon. The whole village did what they could, for fights like that were the best entertainment the village could muster.

But tonight there were two special spectators. They stood out from the rest of the crowd. One was a tall man with curly silver hair and and a thin silver goatee. He was reputed to be the great knight Lord Magnus Tolk, and beside him was another man, this one slightly shorter, with wispy white hair and a crooked smile. He was the famed Lord Faeric Blade.

"Bravo." Clapped Blade. "Bravo. What a splendifferous performance you two."

Tolk smiled. "Indeed. Quite a stunning display of blade weaving. Truely fitting of a knight of Sorieka."

Grigg looked at Frederick, who's heart was pounding furiously. "Um... Uh..." Stammered Frederick, unable to gain his composure.

"Thank you kind knights." Interjected Grigg, stepping in to save his buddies pride. "That was nothing really. We weren't even at the top of our game tonight. You should see us in pear season. Ooh, those juicy..."

"He get's the picture Grigg." Laughs Frederick, as his pal is now drooling at his own thoughts. "But yeah, we have been fighting like this for several years now. Though we'd never be amongst the ranks of you knights."

Blade looked at Magnus. "So, what do you think, old pal?"

Magnus looked at Blade and smiled a wicked smile. "I think we might be able to take on a few apprentices."

Frederick faints, but Grigg looks at Blade and Magnus, then back at his fallen friend, then at the knights again. "But we come from humble origins, sirs. How are we gonna become knights?"

"Oh, suffice to say, you've heard of us. Well, Lord Tolk and I are not famous for our debates. We have saved Sorieka on multiple occasions. We are some of King Demonnairre's top warriors. The whole kingdom is in debt to us. Come with us, we'll talk to the king, and get him to produce some false records of nobility. With his consent, no one will question your lineage."

Grigg almost fainted himself, but kept still. Magnus spoke again, strongly urging the boys to join. "What do you say? Wake your friend up and we can be going now."

Grigg did, and soon, he and Frederick were off to the castle. They said there good byes, and after a private audience with the Lords, the king granted them their request.

For the next few weeks, Grigg and Frederick trained as the apprentices of Magnus and Blade, respectively, and had no contact with each other. However, they learned techniques they could never dream of learning before. It was perfect.

But the conditions they learned in were quite different. "War!" Shouted Magnus to his apprentice, slashing furiously past Grigg's blade, hitting the boy's armor and leaving few dents in the armor. "This is what we're training you for. To be able to face several foes and still remain unscathed, that's the goal here." The boy looked at his master, no fear in his eyes, and then answered, not with his words, but rather, with a few impressive, impromptu strikes. He dodged Magnus's defensive maneuvers and made contact. "Very good, my boy. You've killed one enemy. Now how do you deal with the rest of them?" Grigg tried to respond, but as he started to speak, Magnus swung his sword at Grigg's, and disarmed him. "From the top, this time, no breaking concentration!"

Frederick learned new stances and techniques, but was also introduced to the lavish lifestyle of being a respected and heroic knight. Food far better than anything cooked up in Cervil. Creams and cakes that made his mouth water with but a single waft of their pleasant aroma, and that's not all that made him salivate. The women were in their prime, all beautiful, young maids willing to serve their lord in any manner he wished. "Frederick, this is my lifestyle. I live every day like this." Laughed Blade. "Such pleasantries are only part of the knight's lifestyle though. There's more. Much more." Frederick couldn't reply. He was too in love with this whole atmosphere.

The two knights and their apprentices trained for a couple of months, and things were going right as Magnus and Blade had planned.

The night before, Blade and Magnus met in secrecy to discuss the next day's events. "So, you think you're apprentice is going to be better than mine?" asks Blade.

"Of course. I've got the fool eating the knight's lifestyle out of my hand. You have no idea how easy it was to manipulate him."

"So you think that's gonna be enough to get him to win?" Blade laughs wildly. "Heh heh heh. My apprentice has trained to fight multiple soldier's in war! He's not gonna be bested by a stupid boy who's given into temptation."

"Don't be fooled Magnus. The boy's desires are gonna help pull him through this. But it's his skills, which I taught him well, that will bring me the win."

They laughed maniacally for a while. Then the next day, the whole town gathered around the arena. Everyone knew what was going on... Except for Frederick and Grigg.

Blade "Okay boy, this is it. You're gonna fight someone for you're knighthood."

"Oh, I can't wait to fight alongside Grigg, brothers in arms. It's gonna be amazing." Replies Frederick, smiling wide.

Blade sighs a deep sigh. "About that..."

Magnus "Time to see if you're ready boy."

Grigg looks eagerly at the man. "I'm ready to face anything."

Magnus smiles. "That's good. This is gonna be a deathmatch, and if you win, you become a knight."

Grigg raises his sword high. "Let's do this."

The two challengers leave their chambers, neither knowing what's going on. They enter the arena swords at their side, and step up towards each other. They draw their blades, then charge towards one another.

Frederick swings at Grigg, who dodges the blade and reciprocates with a lunge. Frederick pulls out a shield and deflects the blow, only to see another coming right at his face. Frederick dodges back, but trips over himself. Grigg doesn't stop though. He throws another strike Frederick's way, and he barely rolls away. The then he swings again, nicking Frederick's helmet. The fighter leaps to his feet and realizes he can barely see with the helmet bent at it was. He throws it aside, and Grigg's freezes up, only for a moment. He suddenly takes a defensive position as Frederick throws wave after wave of blows his way. "Frederick..." He tries to say, but as he does, Frederick places a blow on his side. "Frederick, it's me. Grigg." Frederick suddenly stops. The Knights look at each other and wonder what's going on.

Quickly, Frederick asks "You! It's you I have to fight to gain my knighthood?"

"A deathmatch against my best friend." spits Grigg. "What now?"

"Let's put on a show for them." Answers Frederick.

They both leap back. Then they go at it with a fierce new outlook. The two of them were amazing to behold. Then with a swift stroke, they clashed blades high, then spun around and clashed low. Then stopped. "You ready to go for the gold here buddy?" Asked Grigg.

"Indeed, good friend." Replied Frederick. They set their eyes on Blade and Magnus, who instantly realized what devastating warriors they created. They left the king's side, who insisted they stay and watch the match...

[CurlyKitGirl]

Well, after some curious investigating, I decided I'm gonna throw my goggles into the shipping thread, putting myself up for grabs and contributing this rookie piece. This is not a romantic ship! All my romance attempts in writing end with a terrible terrible heart break, so I think I'll save those attempts for later. Any love in this is platonic love, good ol' fashioned bromance, with no homo erotic nature.

Welcome to the thread then Jesse!
And hey, don't worry about horrible, horrible heartbreak. Some of my most 'acclaimed' stories have been heartbreaky. And made people cry.

Characters involved- Well, I'm going with some of my favorite playgrounders here, not that I dislike anyone, I just think these two are a perfect pair. Once again, platonic relationship, so don't worry Freddy, you and Grim aren't gonna do anything weird. Also guest starring Lord Fullbladder and Lord Magtok.

Okay, a note about my style of writing.

Spoiler

Show

I write comic books, so I may lack a few details, so I try to explain a bit before I get into the good stuff. Please bare with me, as I haven't written anything without scribbling my poor pictures alongside it in a long time. Though my pictures are getting better, I have to go on since my illustrator moved... But I digress.

Spoiler

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The Smithy's Son and the Tailor's Son

Once their existed a world not to different from our medieval society. While it did have magic and monsters inhabiting it, it also had a fair amount of human kingdoms. This takes place in Sorieka, the biggest human kingdom in the land. While many cities in Sorieka were big and glamorous, Cervil, a small village north of the Kronok river, was not. It thrived well, but mainly cause its few diligent families worked well in their community.

Everyone knew everyone, and no one had anything bad to say about any one. It was nice. Its no wonder Frederick, the smithy's son, and Griggs, the tailor's son, became best of friends. While they weren't the richest of young kids, they were special in the fact they always had well made swords, and fine stitched clothing. They had a perfect friendship.

The two boys are 13, ripe for the picking to become knights, though they'd never do so. Though it didn't matter. They had been training with blades for several years now. They were masterful in their art. The whole village would gather on perfect nights to watch the boys spar. It was a magnificent art they practiced.

Frederick smiled as he and Grigg clashed blades. "Grigg, old pal, this has truely been a great lifestyle. Could you imagine being knights?" He never let go of his stance. While he could slash and dodge while swinging a blade, he knew Grigg could not. Grigg only grunted what could be interpreted as "Yeah, all the time", though you'd have to know him as well as Frederick to do so.

The two fought hard, but they came to their usual finish with the clashing of blades high, followed by a swift spinning maneuver, with them clashing blades at the bottom.

Everyone clapped and cheered, the baker and his family brought them delicious treats, the fisherman gave them a very savory cooked sturgeon. The whole village did what they could, for fights like that were the best entertainment the village could muster.

But tonight there were two special spectators. They stood out from the rest of the crowd. One was a tall man with curly silver hair and and a thin silver goatee. He was reputed to be the great knight Lord Magnus Tolk, and beside him was another man, this one slightly shorter, with wispy white hair and a crooked smile. He was the famed Lord Faeric Blade.

"Bravo." Clapped Blade. "Bravo. What a splendifferous performance you too."

Tolk smiled. "Indeed. Quite a stunning display of blade weaving. Truely fitting of a knight of Sorieka."

Grigg looked at Frederick, who's heart was pounding furiously. "Um... Uh..." Stammered Frederick, unable to gain his composure.

"Thank you kind knights." Interjected Grigg, stepping in to save his buddies pride. "That was nothing really. We weren't even at the top of our game tonight. You should see us in pear season. Ooh, those juicy..."

"He get's the picture Grigg." Laughs Frederick, as his pal is now drooling at his own thoughts. "But yeah, we have been fighting like this for several years now. Though we'd never be amongst the ranks of you knights."

Blade looked at Magnus. "So, what do you think, old pal?"

Magnus looked at Blade and smiled a wicked smile. "I think we might be able to take on a few apprentices."

Frederick faints, but Grigg looks at Blade and Magnus, then back at his fallen friend, then at the knights again. "But we come from humble origins, sirs. How are we gonna become knights?"

"Oh, suffice to say, you've heard of us. Well, Lord Tolk and I are not famous for our debates. We have saved Sorieka on multiple occasions. We are some of King Demonnairre's top warriors. The whole kingdom is in debt to us. Come with us, we'll talk to the king, and get him to produce some false records of nobility. With his consent, no one will question your lineage."

Grigg almost fainted himself, but kept still. Magnus spoke again, strongly urging the boys to join. "What do you say? Wake your friend up and we can be going now."

Grigg did, and soon, he and Frederick were off to the castle. They said there good byes, and after a private audience with the Lords, the king granted them their request.

For the next few weeks, Grigg and Frederick were the apprentices of Magnus and Blade, respectively, and had no contact with each other. However, they learned techniques they could never dream of learning before. It was perfect.

But the conditions they learned in were quite different. "War!" Shouted Magnus to his apprentice, slashing furiously past Grigg's blade, hitting the boy's armor and leaving few dents in the armor. "This is what we're training you for. To be able to face several foes and still remain unscathed, that's the goal here." The boy looked at his master, no fear in his eyes, and then answered, not with his blades, but rather, with a few impressive, impromptu strikes. He dodged Magnus's defensive maneuvers and made contact. "Very good, my boy. You've killed one enemy. Now how do you deal with the rest of them?" Grigg tried to respond, but as he started to speak, Magnus swung his sword at Grigg's, and disarmed him. "From the top, this time, no breaking concentration!"

Frederick learned new stances and techniques, but was also introduced to the lavish lifestyle of being a respected and heroic knight. Food far better than anything cooked up in Cervil. Creams and cakes that made his mouth water with but a single waft of their pleasant aroma, and that's not all that made him salivate. The women were in their prime, all beautiful, young maids willing to serve their lord in any manner he wished. "Frederick, this is my lifestyle. I live every day like this." Laughed Blade. "Such pleasantries are only part of the knight's lifestyle though. There's more. Much more." Frederick couldn't reply. He was too in love with this whole atmosphere.

The two knights and their apprentices trained for a couple of months, and things were going right as Magnus and Blade had planned.

The night before, Blade and Magnus met in secrecy to discuss the next day's events. "So, you think you're apprentice is going to be better than mine?" asks Blade.

"Of course. I've got the fool eating the knight's lifestyle out of my hand. You have no idea how easy it was to manipulate him."

"So you think that's gonna be enough to get him to win?" Blade laughs wildly. "Heh heh heh. My apprentice has trained to fight multiple soldier's in war! He's not gonna be bested by a stupid boy who's given into temptation."

"Don't be fulled Magnus. The boy's desires are gonna help pull him through this. But it's his skills, which I taught him well, that will bring me the win."

They laughed maniacally for a while. Then the next day, the whole town gathered around the arena. Everyone knew what was going on... Except for Frederick and Grigg.

Blade "Okay boy, this is it. You're gonna fight someone for you're knighthood."

"Oh, I can't wait to fight alongside Grigg, brothers in arms. It's gonna be amazing." Replies Frederick, smiling wide.

Blade sighs a deep sigh. "About that..."

Magnus "Time to see if you're ready boy."

Grigg looks eagerly at the man. "I'm ready to face anything."

Magnus smiles. "That's good. This is gonna be a deathmatch, and if you win, you become a knight."

Grigg raises his sword high. "Let's do this."

The two challengers leave their chambers, neither knowing what's going on. They enter the arena swords at their side, and step up towards each other. They draw their blades, then charge towards one another.

Frederick swings at Grigg, who dodges the blade and reciprocates with a lunge. Frederick pulls out a shield and deflects the blow, only to see another coming right at his face. Frederick dodges back, but trips over himself. Grigg doesn't stop though. He throws another strike Frederick's way, and he barely rolls away. The then he swings again, nicking Frederick's helmet. The fighter leaps to his feet and realizes he can barely see with the helmet bent at it was. He throws it aside, and Grigg's freezes up, only for a moment. He suddenly takes a defensive position as Frederick throws wave after wave of blows his way. "Frederick..." He tries to say, but as he does, Frederick places a blow on his side. "Frederick, it's me. Grigg." Frederick suddenly stops. The Knights look at each other and wonder what's going on.

Quickly, Frederick asks "You! It's you I have to fight to gain my knighthood?"

"A deathmatch against my best friend." spits Grigg. "What now?"

"Let's put on a show for them." Answers Frederick.

They both leap back. Then they go at it with a fierce new outlook. The two of them were amazing to behold. Then with a swift stroke, they clashed blades high, then spun around and clashed low. Then stopped. "You ready to go for the gold here buddy?" Asked Grigg.

"Indeed, good friend." Replied Frederick. They set their eyes on Blade and Magnus, who instantly realized what devastating warriors they created. They left the king's side, who insisted they stay and watch the match...

Nice; it's not sketchy on the writing at all, it fits nicely with the scenario. And I have a terrible mind, I read innuendo into a lot of this, "You should have seen us in pear season! So juicy. . ." was probably my favourite part of self - made innuendo.
*giggles*
There a title for this?

I hope you stay for the ships, we're crazy and have some real genius on occasion. Mostly Helgraf and EleventhHour, Rabbit and anyone who was involved in our two massive collaborative epics Redemption and I'm Sorry to Love You.

[Destro_Yersul]

I expect to see more, of course. Lots more. When I get back from work, that is. And it must be brilliant!

Not that this is hard for any of you.

[Silverraptor]

I didn't recieve any welcomes when I came in. I feel so left out.

[EleventhHour]

I didn't recieve any welcomes when I came in. I feel so left out.

*curls up*
Well, hey there.

[Silverraptor]

*curls up*
Well, hey there.

Uhhh.... n-not what I was expecting. But, I *Guess* it will do.

[Jesse Drake]

Clash High, Swing Low

How's that for a title? That's all I've got.

*Coughs* Also, the words that appear like they shouldn't be there, I did on purpose, totally... I'll fix them later, I noticed a few when I went over it just now. I was kinda rushed at the end to finish it.

[Jacklu]

Furnace Sands: part six
Starring: Reinholdt, Happy Turtle, Smee, Destro, Moon Called.

Spoiler

Show

Reinholdt had not enjoyed his trek across the desert on foot. He had not enjoyed being used by the Oracle to convey a message to DeeCee. He had not enjoyed much of what happened to him these days. He remembered a time when he was left to his own devices. Trusted to serve the role of a wanderer without being constantly bothered by things which he had no concern for. Those times seemed to be long gone.

Ahead of him was the camp. The low light of campfires outlined the blocky shapes of the tents that made up the main settlement for the tribe. The fact that they were burning a fire so late into the night told him that something was up. Something important. As he passed into the main camp, Rein could make out the voices of just about everybody he thought mattered to the tribe.

It is good to see that you have recovered. Please, take a seat. We have been up all night waiting for you to awaken.

Happy, the Tribal chieftess. One of the few people Reinholtd liked in this world.

I hope you don't mind that I undressed you. It was purely for treating your wounds, I promise.

Smee, the eternal flirt. She was always getting special treatment by the tribal leaders because of her special destiny that the Oracle had spoken of.

We have much to discuss. Please, if everyone could be seated. The final piece will be arriving shortly.

Speaking of the Oracle. Rein wondered whose body the spiritual voice of his people was using tonight. Everyone in the tribe respected the Oracle. Everyone. She had guided the people of the sands for as long as could be remembered. Had instructed and lead them. But nobody had ever seen her face.

Who is it? Um... Oracle... Ma'am...

Rein rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling. Moon. His adopted sister. He had found her in the wrecked remains of a truck when she was still a toddler. She had been on the brink of death by the time he had stumbled upon her. Her parents had already crossed that line. The Oracle told him that it had been fate. He frankly didn't care. The little ball of energy was just about the only thing he looked forward to when he returned to camp. Not that he let it show to anyone but her. He didn't like the idea of people coming to think of him as sentimental.

He wondered what everyone was talking about. It sounded important. Rein stepped around from behind a tent and into the circle of light cast by the fire. Gathered around it was a much smaller group than he had accepted. Moon's face brightened and she rushed to his side, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

Brother! You're back!

Rein patted the girl on the head and looked around, taking stock. The Oracle's mask was currently on one of the tribal mothers. Glendalin, if Rein recalled correctly. Far from important, but he supposed the Oracle needed all those that mattered to be present and aware. Happy was seated next to her. Across the fire from him was Smee, standing behind a man, her hands on his shoulders. Rein narrowed his eyes. Newcomers were rare. Even rarer was newcomers being allowed at meetings with the Oracle.

Good. Now that you are here, we can begin. As you all know, Reinholdt excluded, this man was found earlier today by Smee, just south of the Jagged Rocks. His arrival marks the beginning of a change which has been long coming. He is the one who will free the desert and bring life to the lands.

Now hold on-

What? I think you have the wrong guy.

Rein looked at the man closely. At least they seemed to be on the same page. No outsider was going to fulfill any prophecy having to do with the clan. It just wasn't right.

You got that right. Do you even know who he is?

All eyes turned to the man. He glanced around nervously.

I... I can't honestly remember.

Destro. His name is Destro. And he is the man from my dreams.

A strange quiet passed through those gathered. Most everyone in the tribe knew about Smee's dreams. The Oracle had declared them prophesies in their own right. The man looked more nervous.

Listen... I don't know about any prophesies... I just crashed out here.

That is correct. But you crashing here was foretold countless ages ago. You are the one who will breathe life into this land. The only question is whether you will do so willingly or merely be a tool of fate.

It doesn't sound like I have much of a choice, does it?

There is always a choice. But you need not make yours tonight. Tomorrow you will meet with Happy and the elders to decide the next course of action. Reinholdt.

Yes?

You will assist him in whatever is decided.

... Yes Oracle.

I feel the need to speak up. This must not be discussed amongst the tribe. Though it is very important, this news will only stir unrest. Is that understood?

Everyone nodded solemnly. Moon looked around the circle and turned her gaze back up to Rein.

Can I help you too?

Rein rubbed her hair gently.

Yes. You can help me get ready for tomorrow. Then keep yourself safe and behave.

Aww. But I want to go with you to save the world.

We are not saving the world. We might not be saving anything. But you are to stay here and-

I have no idea what you are all talking about. And frankly, I don't like feeling like all of this has been decided for me.

Destro stood abruptly.

Destro...

Listen, I appreciate you saving me. I really do. But I don't want to have anything to do with this. Now, if you excuse me...

He turned and left, heading back to what Rein assumed was his tent for the night. Smee looked uncertain then hurried off after him. For a moment nobody spoke. Finally, Happy broke the silence.

This is to be expected. He might come around in the morning. He might not. Either way, it is late and we are all tired. Rein, I will need to speak with you shortly before you retire for the night.

Everyone nodded and started to disperse. Rein picked Moon up and hugged her tight before setting her down and giving her a push towards their tent.

You head to bed. I'll be in shortly and we can do some catching up, okay?

Okay! But don't be too long. Or I'll come looking for you.

She hurried off, leaving Rein, Happy, and the Oracle around the fire by themselves.

I will leave the rest of this to you. For now, I have other work to tend to.

The mask split and fell from her face. Happy motioned for one of the others to give the woman a hand off to bed for the night, waiting for them to leave before turning to Reinholdt.

DeeCee has not yet returned. I was hoping he was with you.

Rein raised an eyebrow. He was a little surprised that the Oracle hadn't told them herself.

He is carrying out another job right now. I don't know what, but the Oracle was the one who gave it to him.

I see... Times are changing, Reinholdt. And I don't know how it is going to affect my tribe.

We can only hope for the best at this point. I have a feeling this is out of all our hands anyways. Even the Oracle's.

Happy considered for a moment.

As much as it frightens me, I have to agree. I suppose we can only hold on with both hands and pray that Mother Desert will see us through to the other side.

Rein nodded solemnly.

Hey Reeeeeein!!! I set your blanket on fire!

Rein grimaced, then smiled.

You had better tend to your own family for now.

At least keep her from burning the camp down. Goodnight, Happy.

Same to you.

They nodded to each other and went their separate ways. Reinholdt felt a deep sense of unease in the pit of his stomach. He didn't like change. Especially not when he was unable to do anything about it but sit back and wait for it to be over. But such things would have to wait. Tonight, he had a sister to look after.

Here I come, Moon. You better not have burned my good blanket. Otherwise you'll have to help me catch a new Sand Tiger. And they just love to eat little girls who play with fire.

Moon squeaked before bursting into a fit of giggles. Change would come in the morning. But for that night, Rein's world was just as he preferred it.

[cycoris]

Inspired by:

*snarks at the mental image of you in there wanting to be alone in the closet unaware of the thousands of secretly gay people already in there... plus a snake that hugs*

Might I suggest the pantry instead. That way you can snack of you want to.

and

cycoris can have the bathroom for solitude once I'm finished rocking back and forth under the shower trying to wash away the trauma of social contact

Hiding
Starring: Anuan (oh-so briefly), Cobra_Ikari, and myself

Spoiler

Show

I was sitting in the corner people-watching, because that's what I do when I go to parties at all. I was only at this one because my roommate decided that I needed to get out of our room before the internet ate me. Sometime around midnight, I had had more than enough. Unfortunately, my ride didn't want to leave, because it looked like a lively game of 'spin the bottle' was about to start, so I decided that the most attractive alternative to leaving was to hide.

I tried the pantry first, in hopes that there might be chocolate or some Dr Pepper in there. I needed some comfort food, and didn't think that the host would mind. I rummaged around, found a Heath bar, turned out the light and sat on the floor. Just as I opened up my candy bar, I heard something move. I turned on the light and sat on the floor, being as still and quiet as I possibly could. A minute or two later, a mouse poked its whiskers out of a box of crackers, and I freaked. I have frog fears, but that's nothing compared to how I feel when confronted with a mouse.

I stood up, ran towards the bathroom, and knocked on the door. "Just a sec!" I waited, wanting desperately to wash that 'tiny little mice feet running all over me' feeling off. A couple minutes later, Anuan walked out, looking like he had just taken a shower. At that point, I decided that I would never have peace if I hid in the bathroom, so I nibbled on my Heath bar while I walked up and down the hall, waiting for the people in the guest room to finish getting their coats, all the while hating their guts for getting to leave.

Finally, I walked softly into the guest room, opened the closet room, and stepped in. I made sure the door wouldn't lock me in, closed it, and stuffed a scarf in the crack between the door and the floor. I hugged my knees and finished my candy bar. Then I stuck the wrapper in my pocket and started rocking back and forth, back and forth, trying to clear my mind.

After about ten minutes of mindless rocking, something bumped against me. I slowly stood up and turned on the light. There was this gay couple making out in the closet, completely ignoring me. I sighed and started making my way out, only to step on something else.

"Ow!" said a voice somewhere next to my right ankle.

"Sorry," I said, not sure to whom I was speaking. The couple continued to ignore me.

"Hey, that's okay. I'm down here, by the way. And you don't have to leave. They don't notice anyone else. I think they actually are in their own little world."

I looked down to see who was speaking, and saw a large cobra looking at me.

"Oh, um, hi. Sorry I didn't see you there," I said, damning my luck to the deepest level of hell. It was all I could do to not cry at the idea of having to deal with yet another person who wanted me to go and be sociable.

"Really, it's fine," said the cobra. "You okay? You look like you could use a hug. And I promise I'm not a boa constrictor."

I nodded slowly, and sat down. The cobra wrapped itself around my waist and draped itself over my legs so that it could watch me as well. I put a hand on the part of it that most closely resembled a neck (id est, just below the head), and we both just sat there like that until we fell asleep.

[Anuan]

*snip*

I giggled

[cycoris]

I giggled

Good. It was silly. My mind is silly. You were right to giggle. At least that means that I managed to convey at least a bit of what I wanted to.

[Nameless]

Furnace Sands: part six
Starring: Reinholdt, Happy Turtle, Smee, Destro, Moon Called.

Spoiler

Show

Reinholdt had not enjoyed his trek across the desert on foot. He had not enjoyed being used by the Oracle to convey a message to DeeCee. He had not enjoyed much of what happened to him these days. He remembered a time when he was left to his own devices. Trusted to serve the role of a wanderer without being constantly bothered by things which he had no concern for. Those times seemed to be long gone.

Ahead of him was the camp. The low light of campfires outlined the blocky shapes of the tents that made up the main settlement for the tribe. The fact that they were burning a fire so late into the night told him that something was up. Something important. As he passed into the main camp, Rein could make out the voices of just about everybody he thought mattered to the tribe.

It is good to see that you have recovered. Please, take a seat. We have been up all night waiting for you to awaken.

Happy, the Tribal chieftess. One of the few people Reinholtd liked in this world.

I hope you don't mind that I undressed you. It was purely for treating your wounds, I promise.

Smee, the eternal flirt. She was always getting special treatment by the tribal leaders because of her special destiny that the Oracle had spoken of.

We have much to discuss. Please, if everyone could be seated. The final piece will be arriving shortly.

Speaking of the Oracle. Rein wondered whose body the spiritual voice of his people was using tonight. Everyone in the tribe respected the Oracle. Everyone. She had guided the people of the sands for as long as could be remembered. Had instructed and lead them. But nobody had ever seen her face.

Who is it? Um... Oracle... Ma'am...

Rein rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling. Moon. His adopted sister. He had found her in the wrecked remains of a truck when she was still a toddler. She had been on the brink of death by the time he had stumbled upon her. Her parents had already crossed that line. The Oracle told him that it had been fate. He frankly didn't care. The little ball of energy was just about the only thing he looked forward to when he returned to camp. Not that he let it show to anyone but her. He didn't like the idea of people coming to think of him as sentimental.

He wondered what everyone was talking about. It sounded important. Rein stepped around from behind a tent and into the circle of light cast by the fire. Gathered around it was a much smaller group than he had accepted. Moon's face brightened and she rushed to his side, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

Brother! You're back!

Rein patted the girl on the head and looked around, taking stock. The Oracle's mask was currently on one of the tribal mothers. Glendalin, if Rein recalled correctly. Far from important, but he supposed the Oracle needed all those that mattered to be present and aware. Happy was seated next to her. Across the fire from him was Smee, standing behind a man, her hands on his shoulders. Rein narrowed his eyes. Newcomers were rare. Even rarer was newcomers being allowed at meetings with the Oracle.

Good. Now that you are here, we can begin. As you all know, Reinholdt excluded, this man was found earlier today by Smee, just south of the Jagged Rocks. His arrival marks the beginning of a change which has been long coming. He is the one who will free the desert and bring life to the lands.

Now hold on-

What? I think you have the wrong guy.

Rein looked at the man closely. At least they seemed to be on the same page. No outsider was going to fulfill any prophecy having to do with the clan. It just wasn't right.

You got that right. Do you even know who he is?

All eyes turned to the man. He glanced around nervously.

I... I can't honestly remember.

Destro. His name is Destro. And he is the man from my dreams.

A strange quiet passed through those gathered. Most everyone in the tribe knew about Smee's dreams. The Oracle had declared them prophesies in their own right. The man looked more nervous.

Listen... I don't know about any prophesies... I just crashed out here.

That is correct. But you crashing here was foretold countless ages ago. You are the one who will breathe life into this land. The only question is whether you will do so willingly or merely be a tool of fate.

It doesn't sound like I have much of a choice, does it?

There is always a choice. But you need not make yours tonight. Tomorrow you will meet with Happy and the elders to decide the next course of action. Reinholdt.

Yes?

You will assist him in whatever is decided.

... Yes Oracle.

I feel the need to speak up. This must not be discussed amongst the tribe. Though it is very important, this news will only stir unrest. Is that understood?

Everyone nodded solemnly. Moon looked around the circle and turned her gaze back up to Rein.

Can I help you too?

Rein rubbed her hair gently.

Yes. You can help me get ready for tomorrow. Then keep yourself safe and behave.

Aww. But I want to go with you to save the world.

We are not saving the world. We might not be saving anything. But you are to stay here and-

I have no idea what you are all talking about. And frankly, I don't like feeling like all of this has been decided for me.

Destro stood abruptly.

Destro...

Listen, I appreciate you saving me. I really do. But I don't want to have anything to do with this. Now, if you excuse me...

He turned and left, heading back to what Rein assumed was his tent for the night. Smee looked uncertain then hurried off after him. For a moment nobody spoke. Finally, Happy broke the silence.

This is to be expected. He might come around in the morning. He might not. Either way, it is late and we are all tired. Rein, I will need to speak with you shortly before you retire for the night.

Everyone nodded and started to disperse. Rein picked Moon up and hugged her tight before setting her down and giving her a push towards their tent.

You head to bed. I'll be in shortly and we can do some catching up, okay?

Okay! But don't be too long. Or I'll come looking for you.

She hurried off, leaving Rein, Happy, and the Oracle around the fire by themselves.

I will leave the rest of this to you. For now, I have other work to tend to.

The mask split and fell from her face. Happy motioned for one of the others to give the woman a hand off to bed for the night, waiting for them to leave before turning to Reinholdt.

DeeCee has not yet returned. I was hoping he was with you.

Rein raised an eyebrow. He was a little surprised that the Oracle hadn't told them herself.

He is carrying out another job right now. I don't know what, but the Oracle was the one who gave it to him.

I see... Times are changing, Reinholdt. And I don't know how it is going to affect my tribe.

We can only hope for the best at this point. I have a feeling this is out of all our hands anyways. Even the Oracle's.

Happy considered for a moment.

As much as it frightens me, I have to agree. I suppose we can only hold on with both hands and pray that Mother Desert will see us through to the other side.

Rein nodded solemnly.

Hey Reeeeeein!!! I set your blanket on fire!

Rein grimaced, then smiled.

You had better tend to your own family for now.

At least keep her from burning the camp down. Goodnight, Happy.

Same to you.

They nodded to each other and went their separate ways. Reinholdt felt a deep sense of unease in the pit of his stomach. He didn't like change. Especially not when he was unable to do anything about it but sit back and wait for it to be over. But such things would have to wait. Tonight, he had a sister to look after.

Here I come, Moon. You better not have burned my good blanket. Otherwise you'll have to help me catch a new Sand Tiger. And they just love to eat little girls who play with fire.

Moon squeaked before bursting into a fit of giggles. Change would come in the morning. But for that night, Rein's world was just as he preferred it.

Oh. My. GOD!
Destro is Muad Dib!