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  1. - Top - End - #271
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Lady Serpentine's Avatar

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    [Hunter - First Day - I own Nothing - Nexus Canon]


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    "Step through those doors and say the words, and that's it. I'll be committed... No turning back, once you've got your first, whether or not you want to. Is that really a price I'm willing to pay...?"

    Hunter shivered, lightly touching the darkness inside her, the caress of a lover seeking reassurance, but afraid of rejection. The answer that came back was the same as it had been that morning, when she'd set out from her apartment: 'I have no voice.'. Not is as many words, of course, but... That was the impression it gave her; this was her decision, and not even the only thing she was close to anymore could tell her what she ought to do.

    And, so, she simply stood a moment, breath misting in the cold air, then stepped inside, looking around herself nervously as she approached the front desk.

    "I," she said softly, voice barely a whisper from disuse, having seldom spoken to anyone since she came here and rented her new home. "Have come to see the one who calls herself 'The Holder of Nothing '."

    As she watched the man behind the desk, his face twisted in disgust, and she spared just a moment to glance back at the doors she'd entered by, before he led her out another pair, and from there to what seemed to be a wooden outhouse.. Though when she looked inside through the door he held open for her, she saw that the corridor inside was far longer than the building had any right to contain.

    The trip was long, and the light hurt her eyes, towards the end, but aside from that, it was, honestly, uneventful, until she reached the other door, the one the woman she sought was trapped behind.

    Taking care to look only at the woman's face, staring unblinkingly into her eyes, in fact, Hunter knelt beside her, and, lips nearly touching the woman's ear, whispered her question.

    "What were they when they were one?"

    As she listened, her mind cracked, along the place she taken darkness into herself, and her chest burned, but she ignored both, focusing only on keeping her gaze steady, until the story ended, and she found herself back where she had said the words that sealed her fate.


    [Hunter - One Week Later - Do We Have an Understanding? - Nexus Canon]

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    "Well, everyone I know is dead anyway. So I might as well make it this one next... No need to seek forgiveness, after all. Ain't that convenient? The whole reason I'm here is what makes me able to talk to this guy in the first place."

    Hunter smirked wryly as she stepped inside the guidance center, though it was quickly replaced with an expression of polite neutrality as she approached the attendant.

    "I seek The Holder of Understanding," she said calmly, speaking the second set of words that would bind her to her quest, voice still soft from disuse, though somewhat louder now, as she had practiced for this, knowing how much she would have to say once she finally reached the one she sought.

    "Please, take a seat," the woman she spoke to replied, nodding in understanding, and gesturing to a moderately comfortable-looking chair, just behind the Seeker.

    And, so, she waited. For three days, barely moving a muscle, stillness having been ingrained into her very deeply when she sought Nothing, a side-effect of the damage done to her mind.

    Still, even she was starting to grow impatient when the Holder finally presented himself, appearing to her as the Darkness that had been cut out of her by Nothing.

    She could not, quite, restrain a slight jump as he spoke into her mind, in the same fashion that her former guide had, that strange, wordless, communication that still, nonetheless, broke itself up easily into sentences and meanings.

    "It is a pleasure to meet you. My greetings. Please, come in; make yourself at home," the Holder offered warmly, beckoning to her as he turned and walked back into the room he had stepped out of, prompting her to quickly, but unhurriedly, follow him in, and take the seat across from him when he once again gestured, this time to the oddly normal furnishing.

    And, thus, her ordeal began; by the time it ended, her mind was fractured deeper, some pieces barely hanging on by a thread, by the guilt she knew for the pain she had caused in her young life, both intentional and unintentional.

    As her long-dead lover stepped aside, however, she felt... At ease, almost, a strange sense of peace settling in the wake of all she had gone through; not much of one, but enough that, as the Holder smiled at her, she was able to speak, though she fell into tears more than once as she recited her tale.

    "Do you understand?", Hunter asked at last, still wiping her eyes from the last time she had broken down crying, the tear in her mind filled with Nothing rent wide now, at least for a time.

    "Do you?", he responded, standing and walking towards her, stopping midway between the two chairs as the Seeker forced herself to do the same, embracing him without even a momentary shiver, for she was numb enough that she cared only about Nothing, save for, perhaps, the pistol in her pocket, at the moment.

    That would pass with time, of course. But not entirely. Though the scars here were, as with her first challenge, more mental than physical, they would still linger for a long, long, time...


    [Hunter - Six Months Old - Guardian of the Cosmos - Nexus Canon]

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    "It's been a long time, Null... A really long time. You told me where these two are; why'd you make me wait to go get them?"

    "You were in no condition to even walk down the stairs after meeting Understanding. Much less to do what you must to even speak to the Horseman. You did bring Widowmaker, didn't you?"

    "You know I did, Null. You can feel her as well as I can. Or better. You're just nervous. And besides, it's not like she'd let me leave her behind."

    "Well, it is a rather... Demanding challenge. Far more so than acquiring myself or Widowmaker, in some ways. And yes, I know. She longs to be reunited with her brother..."


    And, on that note, the conversation ended, for she had stepped inside the mental hospital she had sought out for these purposes, after her rather extended convalescence, meant to allow what remained of her mind to recover, rather than simply breaking it further and destroying any part that had been even somewhat weakened, as she had previously, though that had had at least one fortunate side-effect, as it had strengthened her connection to Nothing until they could speak like this.

    "I wish to visit the Holder of the Cosmos," she says coolly, voice strong and confident, now, for she knows that Null and Widowmaker stand with her and she has had much more time to speak while she was recovering.

    The man muttered and walked away - and, at that moment, when distraction would not kill, Nothing brushed her mind gently, easing away fear, by way of reassuring her that that was, in fact, supposed to happen - a thing confirmed when he returned moments later, and unlocked a trapdoor beneath his desk, motioning her to follow him down the impossibly-long wooden stairway beneath it, her guide's form flickering and twisting ahead of her, or at least that was what it looked like.

    Eventually, they came to another world. A real one, so far as could be told, and a pleasant one, for the several hours it took to descend to it... At which time she saw her guide's true form, and fled, down the road, for the stairs were no more, until simply breathing was torture, her throat raw and bloodied from the simple act of panting, each footstep hammering once more on already-bruised flesh.

    And, finally, when she could run no longer, she fell to her knees, hope abandoned, only to hear a gunshot sound, as she had wished would be the case.

    She nearly died, there. For she barely had the strength to draw Widowmaker, much less force herself to her feet as she did, and the Horseman was, as Nothing had warned, uncaring of whether she lived or died.

    As soon as he saw it, however, he stopped, and, obviously startled, dismounted, pressing the weapon that had, moments earlier, been used to save her life into her hand, before riding into the night, her exhaustion catching up with her as soon as she had both pistols tucked into their holsters, and he was fully out of sight.
    Last edited by Lady Serpentine; 2014-01-02 at 10:40 PM.

  2. - Top - End - #272
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    Ashen Lilies's Avatar

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    Welp.

    Jay Cozart
    A Grave Investigation, part II
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    I sat at my desk, slowly chewing the lunch that KR had brought me, mulling over the details of the case I had been given. What did I know so far? Not much. Somebody was buying weapons. A lot of them. That could have been anybody. Still, apparently that was enough to scare some of them uppers in Watch, which is why I was on payroll. It was time to ask questions.

    I threw the MagDonald's wrappers into the trashcan under my desk, and headed out. The sun was still high in the sky, but I knew for the criminal underclass of the city, it wasn't too early to be drinking. All the degenerates and scum would be out in full force, and given that I was on the clock, that meant I had to be as well.

    Stumbling down the stairs slightly, I pushed my way through the doors (ignoring the glare of pure liquid malevolence oozing out of my secretary, Deborah) and turned the corner down towards the docks. I was headed to the Brown Drakeling, a hole-in-the-wall dump were most of my contacts made their hangout. It was like the Black Dragon's Den, but with training wheels. Perfect for the sort of beaten down castoffs and petty criminals I was looking for. I ducked under the broken sign dangling in the doorway, and stepped inside.

    As soon as I entered, I was hit with, as always, the smell. It was a delicate combination of unwashed mammal, sweat, cheap ale, vomit, feces, blood, tears, bile, pancreatic juices, and lavender aftershave. It was the burly orcish bouncer that wore this last item, and I found it particularly offensive. Past the bouncer was a whirlwind of noise and activity, as the assorted scum and low-lives of Inside lived out a festival of drunken squalor. I looked among the assorted throng, and quickly found my mark, a burly dwarven weapons dealer they called Beardless Bart, sitting alone at the bar. I smoothly sidled into to space next to him, ready to ease the information I needed out of him with my boundless charm and subtlety.
    "Git ur grubby paws offa my shoulder, detective. This ain't no place fer ye, and if ye e'en think that buying me an ale is going to git me to answer your questions, I'll pull yer spine right out through your belly fat."
    The entire room went silent, as every single patron turned to face me, glaring at me with suspicion. I stood up nervously, raising my palms in a placating gesture.

    "Now now, let's not get hasty and do anything I'm going to regret. None of you guys are in trouble with anyone, I was just looking for a little bit of information. Anyone been buying weapons recently?"
    In response I got a few snickers and one loud guffaw, but mostly dead silence. I realized that most of the people in the room presently were probably involved in weapons dealing of some kind. It was time to try a different line of questioning. I rapidly ran through some likely scenarios in my head of the implications of large-scale weapons purchasing.
    "Oooookay then. Henchmen? Anyone hiring henchmen? Maybe making long-winded speeches about overthrowing Remnant or instituting a new world order?"
    Abruptly, a large green hand engulfed my head, and my nostrils were overwhelmed by the scent of lavender aftershave.
    "Me think you betta leave now." Said a deep, thick voice, and before I could protest, I was thrown bodily from the tavern into the street outside. Clearly, what I needed at this point was a change in tactics. I wasn't going to get any success from diving headfirst into the heart of the criminal underbelly. Clearly I would need to hunt like a wolf, isolating and separating one of the weakest and sickliest from the heard.

    I lurked outside the tavern for several hours, looking for my mark. Several of the weapons dealers I knew I passed over. They were too strong, too well armed, traveled in groups or just had really bad BO. If I was going to be wrestling some criminal for information, they might as well smell slightly decent while I was doing it. I had standards. Eventually, I found an ideal target. He was small and weedy enough for my liking, with a nervous twitch, but had an uncanny ability for sniffing out the best jobs to be found in the informal sector. Most people called him Weasel Joe, but for me, he was prey.

    I sidled up next to him, falling into step as he walked down towards the docks.
    "Heeeeyyyy Weasel Joe. How's things hanging?"
    Weasel Joe jumped, flailing slightly as he looked about himself, then stiffened as he saw me, before trying to put on a tough facade.
    "Oh. It's you. Didn't you get the message earlier? Or am I going to have to give you another beating?"
    I smiled widely, clapping him on the back. He staggered slightly under the force of my hand.
    "Come on now, Joey. We're friends, right? All I want is a little information about someone buying some weapons."
    Weasel Joe stopped, wheeling around to face me. He reached to about my chest.
    "Listen here, buster. I ain't working with no faceless man, and I wouldn't tell you anything about him if I did."
    This little tidbit of information piqued my curiosity.
    "Faceless man? I never said anything about a faceless man? Who is he?"
    Sudden panic broke across Weasel Joe's face as he realized he'd spilled the beans.
    "Well, you see, the thing is... uh..."
    He pushed me back, and whirled round, stumbling into a dead sprint. For my part, I gave chase as best I could, gaining enough ground to jump forward and slam my full weight into his back, tackling him to the ground with a heavy thud. What followed next was a crass and truly regrettable display of violence that, indeed, proved in itself a poignant metaphor for the moral decay of Inside's lower urban sprawl. A man like me shouldn't have to sprint that hard through a muddy street on day like this.

    Breathing heavily, I extracted my fist from Weasel Joe's face and shook him slightly.
    "Who is the faceless man? Why is he buying the weapons?"
    "Go **** yourself, you *********** piece of **-"
    I shoved his face into the mud a little more.
    "What's that? I can't quite hear you through all that mud in your mouth. Here, let's get you cleaned up."
    Looking around, I saw a large trough by the side of a nearby stable, so I dragged him over, dunking his head firmly under the surface of the stagnant water. He flailed weakly, slapping at my arms with all his might. I pulled him out.
    "When I get my friends, we're going to find you and-"
    I dunked him again, pressing his face against the rusted steel bottom of the trough. I pulled him out again.
    "Okay, okay, I'll tell you whatever you want, please, no more. I'll reveal every-"
    I dunked him again. It really was a hot day, and I didn't think I'd properly expressed my thorough displeasure at having had to sprint after him and beat him up in the middle of the afternoon when I should have been napping. When his flailing started to slow down, I pulled him out for the last time and tossed him to the ground, crossing my arms across my chest. He spluttered and gasped, staring at me with bewildered and slightly frightened eyes.
    "Raptor Christ, man, the hell is wrong with you? I... I don't know much. There's just this guy, right? Big, metal, no face, wears fancy clothes, he's the one who's been buying all the weapons, okay? I don't know what for, he never tells us anything, and we never see where the weapons go. He just has his guards pick them up from the dealers and take them off. He's going to do that again, midnight tonight at the old K-Corp warehouse by Bolt Street. If you go there, maybe you'll find something out. That's all I know, I swear! Please, just... just leave me alone!"
    I nodded, looking stern.
    "Thanks for your co-operation, Joey. I've got my eye on you."

    I left him in the gutter, heading back towards my office. I had some stuff I needed to pick up, then I was going to go back home to take a shower, eat some dinner, and change into some clean clothes. I had an appointment tonight with the faceless man, and I wanted to look my best.
    Quote Originally Posted by Lord Magtok
    She’s graduated from child soldier to unstable teen sorceress, way to go.

  3. - Top - End - #273
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    Hattish Thing's Avatar

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    Pain:

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    Why did you do it? The psychologist sat ahead, facing Kyson, the fine details of the man's old and weathered face hard to make out in the dim light produced by the single lamp hanging from the ceiling. Do what, sir? The inmate replied, his orange uniform dulled and worn out from use. He looked terrible, his eyes sunken in, his black hair ratted and pulled back to his scalp, the stubble at his chin having grown out of control. Don't play games. We don't have time today. The pyschologist, Doctor Gustav, took off his glasses and set them upon the small table in front of them. The room was small, rustic, and cramped. It was one of the offices that used to belong to The Warden, before he relocated to the floor above. Doctor Gustav moved in the office afterwards. There's a desk in the corner, with papers all about, and a bookshelf, mostly empty. It was cold in here. Why does anyone do anything, Doctor... It was just in my nature. Natural.

    The Doctor took out a wipe from a pocket, and began to clean his glasses as he spoke. The glasses were silver, well-made, however a small crack in the glass can be seen in the corner of the eye. It is most certainly not a human beings nature to kill and.... butcher another human being the way you did. You killed three men, Kyson. And you skinned them. You're sick, diseased in the mind. And I need you to answer my questions. We'll get you better. Kyson frowned, his face twisting into a grimace. I don't want to get "better"! I don't NEED to get better, I'm not hurt. I don't need a doctor. And I don't need you. The pyschologist swallowed, slightly nervous. Kyson was cuffed, but.... you never know. Some poor guy got his nose bit off once by an inmate here.

    You see, that's exactly it. By refusing to admit that you have a problem, it's only worsening your condition. You're unstable. You need my help. Now, answer me! Why did you do it. Kyson frowns, twitching slightly, not liking how his wrists were being chaffed by the cuffs. He'd rather be in his cell... It... it felt good. I was hurt. By people like them. Rich... Successful... Happy... Looking down on anyone who didn't kiss up to them like they were scum. It's a society of bullies. And.... you're judged, and labelled, and treated by what you can buy. Who you're married to. It's terrible. We're so materialistic, and we all learn it from the worst of them. The celebrities, the models... I hate them. I hate how we as a people look up to them like they're so much better. Like we're aaaalll ****ing lesser people compared to 'em. And I don't like it. WE should all be equal. Society is wrong, and bad... And I hate it. I hate everyone. Kyson is quivering by the end, emotional.

    The Doctor writes a few things down before beginning to speak. It says that you were abused as a child. You had a rough upbringing, according to reports. Several domestics involving your parents... aaaand the imprisonment of your father. It must have been ha- He DESERVES to rot away in a cell. He was a beater, and a drinker, and horrible to me... He DESERVES this. Not ME! What did I do?! I helped to make society right. I'm helping the people by getting RID of the false prophets we create. I'm helping. I didn't beat anyone. Or touch anyone badly... I didn't steal. Or rape. Or- You killed son. You're a killer. You're worse. You ended the lives of three beautiful people. All with brilliant lives and careers ahead of them, and you denied them that. You stole their lives. Then you... skinned them and... wore them. It comforts me. I can be one of them. Just for a bit... Not for long. I wouldn't be abusive if I was one of the rich, happy, loved ones. I'd be good. I like to wear them.

    They comfort me from the pain of continuing my existence among the rotted society we have produced, Doctor.
    ...There will always be the pain, son. But... you don't have to fear it. Kyson gets upset by this, and lunges towards him, even though he's bound to the chair. HOW DO YOU KNOW PAIN?! Hm?! You don't know ANYTHING about pain. The Doctor rises out of his chair, and glares down upon him, visibly frightened. You're a monster, and you'll be kept here... forever. You... you're sick. You can't be helped... I... Gustav rushes out of the room, to talk to the guard outside the door. Eventually, Kyson is led out, and put in his cell. Tomorrow he was scheduled for Electro-Shock, Doctor Gustav's suggested 'cure' to Kyson's mentality. It was the same thing for weeks. Weeks turned to months. Months to years. Kyson talking to a different doctor. Different 'cures'. Different faces, same conversations. It was all the same till the storm came. And then Kyson was freed.
    Last edited by Hattish Thing; 2014-01-17 at 04:33 AM.

  4. - Top - End - #274
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    Lord Raziere's Avatar

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    from a character, who I haven't even played yet...

    Burned
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    I was an ordinary middling mage y'know. I was never particularly ambitious. I mean sure, there are those guys in it for the cosmic power, we get those at the university every year, of course just as many leave every year believing there is nothing more that the university can teach them, just as well, we don't particularly care for them. They often end up going lich or making a deal with the devil or something and we just shrug our shoulders and teach the students to not be power-hungry jerks, and let the adventurers sort out the ones who're beyond saving, what else can you do?

    Me, I just wanted to turn myself into a fire elemental. Y'know, routine elemental transformation, bit of an advanced spell I know, but its something that has been known to work, well-researched and so on and so forth. Should've worked without a hitch.

    I honestly don't know what went wrong. Maybe I read an outdated or wrong spellbook, maybe I mis-pronounced the incantation, or perhaps did the gesture a little off or too sloppily...but what really happened is that suddenly my body was in flame and that all my flesh was burned away.....until I was nothing but a skeleton....yet somehow I am still alive. I have no idea how to reverse this. Of course the wizards around me assumed I was a lich, and then I had to escape from their attacks.

    Now? now I don't know what to do. lost, turned into some weird living skeleton and with no idea what happened to screw up the spell...I need to find a cure for this. I need to reclaim my old life as a respected mage! But how...

    I'm also on discord as "raziere".


  5. - Top - End - #275
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    Arkhosia's Avatar

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    Natalia Ebonheart - Empathy

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    Soldiers struggled in the muddy field, the rain pouring upon their leather, iron, and steel armor as their blades clashed.
    Natalia, clad in her leather armor, dug her heels in the mud, gripping the steel Longsword tightly as she pushes upon it, grunting with exhaustion as she holds the axe aimed at her head at bay, glaring at the orc clad in leather armor wielding it.
    She viciously kicks the orc in the shins, taking the burly soldier by surprise and causing him to cry in pain.
    But that came with a drawback for the dark elf, who lost her footing with the kick, falling into the mud.
    The orca takes the opportunity to swings the axe at the woman, lodging it in her side and causing Natalia to scream and swing her sword at the orc as he tries to pry the axe out of her armor, cutting into his shoulder deeply and showering blood upon her.
    She hacks away angrily, pain flooding her with every slice, until she is left sobbing under the orc's dead body, watching soldiers on either side of the clash slaughter each other, clutching her head as pain, frustration, gratification, exhaustion, and anger from every single man on the battlefield blinds her.
    "Are we living a life that is safe from harm? Of course not, we never are. But that's not the right question. The question is: are we living a life that is worth the harm?"
    ~Welcome to Night Vale

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    Quote Originally Posted by SliiArhem
    Arkh I may be slightly delirious but I don't think that would make sense even if I was coherent.

    Interested in the Nexus FFRP setting? Try joining our Discord server!

  6. - Top - End - #276
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    Lord Raziere's Avatar

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    Shui Hujing: A Flowing Dance
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    She walks forward, her black hair flowing in the wind along with her blue qipao. She sees Grim before her, long and thin ones with strangely long class and narrow heads full of teeth. She draws her dao without a sound. They charge at her. She doesn't charge to meet them, instead she reacts to the first Grim that comes at her, drawing her blade through its body like a calligraphist through paper, the ink that it was its blood spilling everywhere. She flowed her strike right into the next one, not even stopping or changing it, making the attack long and continuous.

    She then turned so that her strike finally sliced off the head of the third behind her. A fourth came at and she flipped in the air and cut it in half as she landed then her blade, like the rising tide, flowed upward and cut passed through the Grim's like the rising tide. She ran forward, her dao shifting back and forth like water in a glass, killing Grim after Grim like a smooth pendulum of doom, the blade encountering no resistance as it neatly bisected skin, flesh and bone. For each Grim, only one strike was needed to end their existence, It was all efficient and harmonious in its execution, no hesitation, no rigidity, no fury. Neither was there joy. There was only peace as she carved through them. There was only the Flow.

    She then turned again and cleanly slashed through one Grim upwards, twirled her dao then cut through another diagonally. Then eight came at her from all sides.

    She lifted up one leg, held out her dao to balance, standing on her toes as if like a ballerina- the pirouetted. Instantly the Grim around her died ash she spun, she barely noticed it as they died to a blade that she wasn't even swinging.

    When she stopped, she ran forward but the next Grim got lucky and knocked her dao out of her hand!

    She was unconcerned about this. The saber was a limiter to challenge herself after all.

    She called upon her Semblance to make a single droplet of water appear and float above her finger.

    It was all that she needed.

    She pointed at the Grim in front of her, and the droplet sped right through its head- along with the other nine grim behind it. All of them dropping dead from the droplet's super-enhanced erosion power slicing through their brains.
    "Razor Erosion Style: Rain Bullet"
    She then seemingly began to dance elegantly upon the battlefield, the droplet following her fingers every movement as she, as if without a care in the world, was at some ball. When she twirled, the droplet would similarly circle and slice through Grim in a wide circle around her, when a Grim came close, he simply whipped it back and it fell over from hole in the back of its head. Her finger would zig-zag and so would Grim would die row after row.

    She directed her droplet with all the poise and peace of a conductor with a baton, directing each Grim's death with no joy but certainly with grace. She would flip and jump away from their strikes and then the droplet would steal their life away faster than they could blink, her dance allowing her to avoid every blow, every seeking claw and her droplet ending their thoughts before they could anything more. The battlefield became a slaughter as she ended all their lives with a single drop of water.

    Finally they all seemed to be dead. She let the droplet fall wink out of existence. She began to walk forward but then a Grim suddenly burst out of the ground behind her! She spun around and slapped the Grim's forehead with her open palm, Water channeled from it and through the Grim, dissolving it away to nothing in an instant.

    She waited for a few moments to see if anymore would try to ambush her.

    Then she picked up her dao, put it back in its sheathe and moved on.
    I'm also on discord as "raziere".


  7. - Top - End - #277
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    Quote Originally Posted by happyturtle View Post
    Story Indexes
    Indexed through post 275

    Canon Stories:
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    Character/Topic Story Title Author
    Sgt Alan Miller The Stench is in my Clothes, in my Mind, and in my Heart Mindfreak
    Alfred/Agneau Once Upon a Time OrchestraHc
    Alfred/Agneau Faerie Had a Little Lamb OrchestraHc
    Alfred/Agneau Fair is Fair OrchestraHc
    Annabelle Shadows of Memories Darklord Bright
    Bill the Deathclaw I Have No Voice and I Must Scream Mindfreak
    Bill the Deathclaw The World is Crumbling, But There's Still Kindness Mindfreak
    Billie Billie/Elaine Part 2: Excitement Happyturtle
    Billie Billie/Elaine Part 4: Prisoner Happyturtle
    Billie Billie/Elaine Part 5: Mother Happyturtle
    Billie Billie/Elaine Part 8: Religion Happyturtle
    Mrs Bloodplunder Wars and Weddings (Part 1) Earl of Purple
    Mrs Bloodplunder Wars and Weddings (Part 2) Earl of Purple
    Mrs Bloodplunder Wars and Weddings (Part 3) Earl of Purple
    Boris Krestyanov Just Another Day Rotting Baron
    Brinika A Bad Dream Morty
    Calvin Witt The Dawn McBish
    Carrie Untitled Beans
    Cassidy Scarlett The Shadows of Seattle, part 1 Rotting Baron
    Cassius Godlark Showtime Wolfbane
    Celica Celica's Story Arkhosia
    Chelonie "Happy" Amakirr Part 1: Betrayal Happyturtle
    Chelonie "Happy" Amakirr Part 2: Promise Happyturtle
    Chelonie "Happy" Amakirr Part 3: Monster Happyturtle
    Clegg Thernardier The Last Entrance In The Inspector's Log The Mad Hatter
    Doctor Deforestation Suspicious Circumstances Kid Kris
    Edda Vencigad The Fall of the Firebrand Wolfbane
    Elaine de Vere Stevenson Billie/Elaine Part 1: Wild Happyturtle
    Elaine de Vere Stevenson Billie/Elaine Part 3: Secret Happyturtle
    Elaine de Vere Stevenson Billie/Elaine Part 6: Cooperation Happyturtle
    Elaine de Vere Stevenson Billie/Elaine Part 7: Identity Happyturtle
    Elaine de Vere Stevenson Billie/Elaine Part 9: Violation Happyturtle
    Emmi Make the World Beautiful OrchestraHc
    Felandria The End of the Road Felandria
    Finbar Ranatunga Recollections of Finbar Ranatunga LOTRfan
    Gary/Motom Desire: Take What You're Owed OrchestraHc
    Goblin Backstory Rise of the Prophet Morty
    Goblin Backstory Rise of the Prophet, part 2 Morty
    Goblin Backstory Rise of the Prophet, part 3 Morty
    Goblin Backstory Rise of the Prophet, part 4 Morty
    Goblin Backstory Rise of the Prophet, part 5 Morty
    Grant Brandt The First DoomITP
    Grandt Brant The First, Part II DoomITP
    Grantz Part 1: Everything Began When the World Ended SerphIvanXin123
    Harley Zorzo Harley Zorzo's Past MahroniViolist
    Harnel Mithar ni'Therishein Dinner Invitation, Part 1 Harnel
    Hero-At-Wall Hero's Fall, pt 1 Wolfbane
    Hunter First Day - I Own Nothing C'nor
    Hunter Six Months Old - Guardian of the Cosmos C'nor
    Iriel Foreshadow Lost Deep
    Ivaz Sisters - Part 2 KerfuffleMach2
    James Dalton Truth Magtok
    James Dalton Black Friday Magtok
    Jay Cozart A Grave Investigation KrisOnAStick
    Jay Cozart Futility Wolfbane
    Jefferies Hellstomper Hellstomper Goes to School Happyturtle
    Jezebel Tel'vree A Helping Hand Wolfbane
    Jezebel Tel'Vree Tualth and the Three Trials Wolfbane
    Justin Mine New Location Discovered: Laneside Bowling OrchestraHc
    Justin Mine Nina OrchestraHC
    Jyarl, Missy, Jefferies Part 1: Opening Up Happyturtle
    Jyarl, Missy, Jefferies Part 2: Waking Up Happyturtle
    Jyarl, Missy, Jefferies Part 3: Dressing Up Happyturtle
    Jyarl, Missy, Jefferies Part 4: Tumbling Down Happyturtle
    Jyarl, Missy, Jefferies Part 5: Figuring Out Happyturtle
    Jyarl, Missy, Jefferies Part 6: Listening In Happyturtle
    Jyarl, Missy, Jefferies Part 7: Holding On Happyturtle
    Kal'selthazar Marked: Prologue Kid Kris
    Kirlia The Story of Kirlia: Prologue Mindfreak
    Kirlia The Story of Kirlia: Part 1 Mindfreak
    Linda Mann Charlie's Last Message Happyturtle
    Lola Anez HELP WANTED OrchestraHc
    Luke Evans Goodfellow Little Person. Big World. Happyturtle
    Marcel Lanier The Interrogation of Marcel Lanier LOTRfan
    Mark Perspective LordDeathkeeper
    Mercutio Fugitive Wizard Mr Moon
    Missy Halifax Heart, part 1 Happyturtle
    Missy Halifax Heart, part 2 Happyturtle
    Missy Halifax Heart, part 3 Happyturtle
    Marciano Louv're Keep Your Wits About You... And You'll Stand on Top singingnoodle
    Mortal Coil Last Stand on Abbot and Costello Wolfbane
    Nort Nort Heynew's Life McBish
    The Operative Patient Interview 1 Rotting Baron
    The Operative Patient Interview 2 Rotting Baron
    The Operative Patient Interview 3 Rotting Baron
    The Operative Patient Interview 4 Rotting Baron
    Pathfinder Tale of the Beginning and Dark Steps Wolfbane
    Phoebe Finding the Broom part 1 McBish
    Phoebe Finding the Broom part 2 McBish
    Psychology A Starting Look Lost_Deep
    Romeo Blue Robes Or Wherin I Try To Narratively Exposit My Character’s System of Magic: Part the First OrchestraHC
    Rose Life and Death - Iliya - Withered Thorns Horngeek
    Roy Isaacs Mortal Injury Kid Kris
    Serph Part 2: Project Daemn Militis SerphIvanXin123
    Sevet The Day I Was Born OrchestraHc
    Sevet What Fire Tastes Like OrchestraHC
    Sevet Like Sight to the Blind OrchestraHC
    Shadow In the Beginning GrandDM
    Shrike and Dani Red, part 1 The Bushranger
    Shrike and Dani Red, part 2 The Bushranger
    Sophie Mouchabiere Inherit the Earth, part One Morty
    Sophie Mouchabiere Inherit the Earth, part two Morty
    Stepmother The Adventure of a Villainess, First Recorded Sighting Part 1 Viera Champion
    Sue Stonethrower Second Chance Happyturtle
    Talina, Nycca Dreams and Nightmares - Part 0: Thank you, please come again C'nor
    Talina, Nycca Dreams and Nightmares - Part 1: Entrance C'nor
    Talina, Nycca Dreams and Nightmares - Part 2: Cleansing Flames C'nor
    Talina, Nycca Dreams and Nightmares - Part 3: That Sleep of Death... C'nor
    Talina, Nycca Nycca Eat Nothing Beans
    Talina, Nycca Nycca Eat Nothing, Entries 3, -1, and 0 Beans
    Talina, Nycca Nycca Eat Nothing, Entry 4 Beans
    Tito Applehill Stupid Happyturtle
    Tom Godlark Operation Druid Surprise Magtok
    Trisha Meeting of Champions Wolfbane
    Trisha Final Rites Wolfbane
    Trisha/Michicora/War Letters from the Front Wolfbane
    Trucido Amare Fear leads to anger; anger leads to hate; hate leads to suffering. The Mad Hatter
    Tsiln Incident 9985 Beans
    Vana Emancipation Angel C'nor
    Vana Adarkar Valkyrie C'nor
    Vesa Revenant in the Making, part 1 Beans
    Vita/Rugal The First Night Wolfbane
    Vita/Rugal Captio Happyturtle
    Vriveka They Call Her Psycho Lost Deep
    What Pumpkin Heartside Hotline Magtok
    Willow "Salixtra" Warwick Control Happyturtle
    Wolfy Origin Wolfbane
    Xifra Who am I? Happyturtle
    Zavi Sisters - Part 1 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 1 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 2 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 3 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 4 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 5 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 6 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 7 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 8 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 9 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 10 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 11 KerfuffleMach2
    Zel Memories - Part 12 KerfuffleMach2


    Alt-verse, Quasi-canon, or Non-Nexus stories:
    Spoiler
    Show
    Character/Topic Story Title Author Setting
    - I Must Dig Lost Deep -
    - Sober \/\/orld Mindfreak -
    - Sober \/\/orld: The Prequel Mindfreak -
    - Candle Burning Bright, Part 1 Morty -
    - Candle Burning Bright, Part 2 Morty -
    - Demons and Daedra Earl of Purple -
    Carrie Devour Beans -
    Cutter Failing Life - Outbreak: Part 1 Wolfbane Alt-Nexus
    - Failing Life - Outbreak: Part 2 Wolfbane Alt-Nexus
    Edijar Losthold Edijar's Death Wolfbane Non-canon
    Laela Frescott Siblings Gulaghar Future Nexus
    Magtok Post-Death MagJournal Entry 1 – Day One of New Life/Existence in Dreary Little Dump Called Limbo. Paper and Pen Provided by Libby, So Thanks For That, I Guess. Magtok Quasi-canon
    Magtok Post-Death MagJournal Entry 2 – Day Two of New Life/Existence in Limbo. There's No Sun or Anything To Mark the Passage of Time Down Here, But Libby Says It's Been Close Enough to a Whole Day Since I Showed Up, So Whatever. Magtok Quasi-canon
    Magtok Post-Death MagJournal Entry 3 – Day One of…Crap, Which Circle Am I On? First, Second? Screw it, I’ll Ask Someone and Add It In When I Get to Entry 4. Magtok Quasi-canon
    Magtok Post-Death MagJournal Entry 4 – Day Twenty-Seven of Hell. Would’ve Updated Sooner, But I Was Busy, Fudge You Magtok Quasi-canon
    Magtok Post-Death MagJournal Entry 5 – Day Twenty-Eight of Hell. Still Stuck in a Bed in Clockwork Repair Center/Infirmary Magtok Quasi-canon
    Magtok Post-Death MagJournal Entry 6 – I Have a Nice Little Office Now. Also a Dead Cat. Eww. Magtok Quasi-canon
    Magtok Post-Death MagJournal Entry 7 - Wow, Seven? I Could've Sworn I'd Be Done Breathing By Now Magtok Quasi-canon
    Magtok Post-Death MagJournal Entry 8 - Dictated But Not Read Magtok Quasi-canon
    Magtok Post-Death MagJournal Entry 9 – Wherein Entirely Predictable Plot Twists Happen Magtok Quasi-canon
    Magtok Wish You Were Hurt: A Series of Letters, From One Magtok To Another Magtok Alt-Nexus
    Missy Halifax Reunion Happyturtle, Wolfbane, Rebonack Alt-Nexus
    Neiz Neiz's Bizarre Adventure: Underworld Waltz, Chapter 1: Ashes to Ashes, Blood to Blood Beans -
    Neiz Underworld Waltz, Chapter 2: A Quiet Moment/Deal with the Devil Beans -
    Dr Stroffelnburg Patient 413, Part 1 Magtok Non-Canon
    Dr Stroffelnburg Patient 413, Part 2 Magtok Non-Canon



    For indexing purposes, the preferred format for stories is:

    [B]Character or Topic[/B] (Optional Note if Alt-Canon)
    [I]Story Title[/I]
    [spoiler]story goes here[/spoiler]
    You won't get penalized for using a different format, but the closer it is to this, the more likely it is to get indexed correctly.

    If you discover any indexing errors, or would simply like your story indexed differently, please let me know.


    @Everyone: I got the tables changed to the new code, but the code is quite ugly and fiddly to dig through, and will be until all the cells and rows are placed on different lines like it ought to be. I only updated to post 275, but will get the rest another time.

    If anyone feels superly generous and wants to format the code, I won't say no to that.
    My avatar! Isn't it just utterly diabolical? Ashen Lilies made it!

    "Money cannot buy health, but I'd settle for a diamond-studded wheelchair."
    ― Dorothy Parker


    Spoiler: Interested in Nexus FFRP? Newcomers welcome!
    Show
    FFRP Faqs |Nexus Faqs | Nexus IRC Chat
    We're friendly! Join the fun!
    Ext. Sig.
    PCs

  8. - Top - End - #278
    Troll in the Playground
    Join Date
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Okay. Index is caught up.

    If you did rping offline during the outage, feel free to post your chat logs here.
    My avatar! Isn't it just utterly diabolical? Ashen Lilies made it!

    "Money cannot buy health, but I'd settle for a diamond-studded wheelchair."
    ― Dorothy Parker


    Spoiler: Interested in Nexus FFRP? Newcomers welcome!
    Show
    FFRP Faqs |Nexus Faqs | Nexus IRC Chat
    We're friendly! Join the fun!
    Ext. Sig.
    PCs

  9. - Top - End - #279
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    5a Violista's Avatar

    Join Date
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Thanks, Happyturtle, for fixing up that table index!

    Re: Stories written above me: Interesting. I like.


    [The Most Frustrating Journal Entry Ever Written]
    Or,
    The Black Diary, entry 116

    Spoiler
    Show

    It's been one year and nine months since I came to the Nexus.

    I'm still not used to everything here. It's different. The days are much longer and the nights, shorter. That backwater English is the dominant language. There's mirrors everywhere and few people see reason to hide from them. It's only rarely that the shadows attack. It's not as warm. There's more buildings. There's fewer fools running around destroying knowledge. The craftsmanship is different: better in some areas, worse in others. Magic is so easy. Electricity is much safer. There's so much knowledge available that was once lost. So many things are taken for granted, but that's good. Wars are different. Words are different. The world is different.

    It's so different.

    It's also quite frustrating. There's people walking around calling themselves gods. Their folly, I guess. That happened at home, too. Just because someone gains a little more power than everyone else, they think they can call themselves gods. Silly. Foolish. I understand this is a place where "everything is true" - but that doesn't make it any less frustrating. However, the most barbaric, blasphemous thing I've ever seen also happens here. People call themselves even "god-slayers." If I had the power, I would hunt them all down, one by one, and make them pay for their flippancy, it infuriates me so much. If I still was...<the next three sentences are practically illegible, from moisture falling on the page>...and I miss him. All of it. Everything. But there's no going back.

    It's so frustrating.

    However,

    It's also nice sometimes. There's people I can trust around me, who I see as my friends. I don't have to worry about anything as I sleep. Except the usual, obviously. But even that isn't much. Although I've got to carry around weapons generally, I don't mind. The landscape could look better, obviously, but...and, of course, I miss home.

    All in all...the Nexus is different. I still don't know if I like it or not. It's certainly exciting, that's for sure.


    Last edited by 5a Violista; 2014-04-10 at 07:40 PM.
    Favorite sports:
    Fencing
    Football (Soccer)
    Figure Skating
    (and basically everything else that starts with 'f')
    ALSO! Come roleplay FFRPG in the Nexus!
    Nexus Characters.

  10. - Top - End - #280
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Arkhosia's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    The Katherine Letters
    Spoiler: Letter 1: War
    Show

    Dear Caitlyn,
    I've decided. I'm signing up for the army. Wall Maria has been breached. If we do not stand up and join the battle, the titans will devour us. The walls are no longer a reliable defense, and we are no longer safe. I swear that I shall ensure humanity survives, and that, you, my love, stay safe. Do not join the army as well, please. The possibility that you could fall victim to the titans is unbearable to think of.
    Sincerely,
    Katherine Surgius
    "Are we living a life that is safe from harm? Of course not, we never are. But that's not the right question. The question is: are we living a life that is worth the harm?"
    ~Welcome to Night Vale

    Spoiler: Quotes from Friends <3
    Show
    Quote Originally Posted by SliiArhem
    Arkh I may be slightly delirious but I don't think that would make sense even if I was coherent.

    Interested in the Nexus FFRP setting? Try joining our Discord server!

  11. - Top - End - #281
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Beans's Avatar

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    in the glory box

    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Seiner
    Upon a Throne of Glass

    Spoiler: Upon a Throne of Glass
    Show
    I am Seiner Abichal. I am Crimes in the Ocean Undermine the Orphans' Kingdom. I am the Lionsmane Jellyfish Fangire. I am King.

    First, I am the first of these. I have never had a family, really, and if I'd had one they'd be gone now---how many parents live to see their child reach 70, even if the last 50 of those were spent looking 20 because you got turned into a Fangire then? Then again, this is the Nexus, and weirder things are happening all the time. I guess that's part of why nobody cares that I haven't aged in half a century, and at least I've fully paid off my mortgage.

    I like the mundane life I've built up. I have nice little house, a comfortable job, a wonderful girlfriend, and a ton of sweaters. I've worked long enough that I might be able to retire soon, but I don't want to leave the Speccio Lounge behind---I've worked there for twenty years, and even if it means I come home with my clothes smelling like an antique store, it's an important place in my life. And dammit, I like cigars! Give me a good Lancero and I'm a happy girl.

    But the problem is, well, I can't just be that any more. I can't just be the unaging, oblivious girl who sometimes sucked the life out of pigeons with floating glass fangs. I am a Fangire, and what's more, I'm the King. Bishop tells me I'm not the first female King, but I am the first who spent seventy years before actually being told what the hell she was.

    A King, Bishop tells me, has---no, had---the job of protecting Fangire interests by keeping an eye on human scientific development. Anything that could possibly put humans over us was swiftly stamped out, at least until we could get two steps ahead. A King would arrange the assassinations of up-and-comers with brilliant ideas ready to be unleashed upon the world, usually done by being the person these scientists would approach for funding.

    Fangires always told themselves they were the best. And maybe that was true in their home universe... but here and now, still trying to claim Fangire supremacy is a failure to comprehend the situation. I was a Nexusian before I ever was a Fangire, and I haven't been stewing in my own delusions of perfection for centuries. I know what my people need, and it's a godsdamned kick in the jaw.

    Either I die trying, or I will burn out the institutionalized insanity of this race. The King will no longer be charged with keeping humans down, nor will the Queen wield the hammer of judgement against the "crime" of fraterenizing with "lower species". We're living among gods and demons and Alots and woozles and wizardhorses; how dare we strut in paper crowns and rule whether or not "our kind" and "their kind" can be together?

    I know Riki will support me. I'm sure Bishop will back me up. The problem lies with our new Rook, Gotou; he seems like he might not take kindly to this. I'll just have to make him see that this is what is best for everyone, because otherwise I'll just be holding the cap on a bottle with pressure building up inside it and it'll blow into a war that'll get us stamped to splinters in moments. Learn to play nice or we all get made into sand.

    If I do not stop my race from telling itself how great it is, it will never live to be half as great as it likes to imagine.

    I will rule from a castle of bookshelves and comfortable sweaters and contentment, and they will have to learn to like it.

    Not so much a story as an internal monologue, but eh. Things be is.
    🔜 🆒️ 🚰
    Spoiler: My Stories And Things
    Show

  12. - Top - End - #282
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    5a Violista's Avatar

    Join Date
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Beans: I think internal monologues make fine stories. I love the chess symbolism. You do it well.


    Now, I have stories, called: Decisions. It's yet another one about Harley Zorzo, which I wrote during the endless hours I spent on all those planes. Mostly backstory. For the sake of helping me keep things straight, I'll have a short commentary before each one, and also how it fits in in the previous backstory thing I wrote, and how it brings her to be where she is now.

    The First Decision happens chronologically between Pain and Lies. She's a young adult/late teenager at this moment. The way I see it, it's her first life-changing decision in her life, which defines who she wants to be, in spite of her weaknesses.
    Spoiler: First Decision
    Show

    The wind blew through my hair. The wind blew like an angry tiger chasing after its prey. To me, it seemed like the wind was portending a dark future - warning me to not go on. Warning me not to plunge into the storm I knew was coming. No matter what it said to me, I decided not to listen. I had already made my choice, and nothing would stop me.

    I had decided to flee from here and go join a knight's order. NOt just any order - the same one my father belonged to. Or, rather, the one of the man whom I believed to be my father. I didn't really know, for sure. It's just that I suspected that man locked down away in the dungeon to be him. He was such a grand knight, or at least he looked to be one. My mother - often known as the "witch queen," among other similar names - didn't know I went down there or even that I knew about the secret entrance in the corner of that room. . . .

    Maybe I'm not actually related to him and it was just my young mind that imagined up fantastic stories of knights and dragons and shadows and heroes. Nevertheless, I decided to join up and claim to be his daughter. I'd have his sword and sheath. I'd know what he looks like and what his voice sounds like when pleading and begging and threatening for his freedom. Nobody would have proof to the contrary - after all, he did go "missing in action" around the time I was born. He's still locked up in that dungeon - although, i would tell the knights he had died an honorable and brave death. That's what I had decided to do.

    I turned away from the ominous winds and went inside, looking for the secret entrance. Upon finding it, I also found a brand-new lock on the door. I suppose she knew more about my secret voyages than I had thought.

    The lock was no matter - I quickly broke it apart with the knife I had brought along. Then, the next step in my decision was the stairs. I rand down them much more quickly and much more loudly than I had initially planned. I guess I was just nervous. The new lock was also a bad sign. The coming storm was a bad omen. The impending darkness was a misfortune - it was dangerous to be out at night, even for a trained band of knights. Everybody knew that. I had decided what to do. I had decided what I was going to do. There was no going back.

    I reached the bottom of the stairs and made my way through the dark corridors, not distracted at all by the many other doors and pathways. I had gone through this path so many times, I could take every step blindfolded and backwards. This would be my last time traveling through this trail, so I proceeded confidently and not sneaking as I had done before.

    Finally, I reached the last door - the one he was behind. I opened it, and there he was, as always: chained to the wall, looking tired and haggard, but brave and knightly. If he was wearing armor instead of rags, I'm sure it would be shining. He was asleep though - and it wasn't my objective to talk to him this time. I wanted his sword and scabbard, which were always kept near him, even though it was locked just out of reach.

    As soon as I grabbed the blessed weapon, he woke up. I could feel his hand on my leg. It took all my strength to get away. I didn't look back, but his angry voice echoed throughout my head all the way back up to the surface. It pounded through my ears even louder than the thunder outside.

    There was no turning back. I had already decided what to do. The storm wasn't strong enough to blow me off my course. The rain wasn't strong enough to purify my wicked deed. The darkness wasn't strong enough to frighten me away. The guilt wasn't strong enough to stop me.

    Now, at this moment, I'm not strong enough to keep everything from falling apart.


    The Second Decision happens immediately after the first, and Lies happens during this decision. It continues with the theme of the first: defining who she wants to be and how it contrasts with who she is.
    Spoiler: Second Decision
    Show

    I arrived at the city gates in darkness. It was night. The storm was still raging on. THe wind blew harder than a shipwrecked sailor's thirst for land. The soldiers at the gate were surprised to see anyone still out so late after nightfall. They brought me in and started to question me, but after seeing the knight's insignia engraved on my scabbard, the questions stopped and they sent for someone.

    I waited. I waited longer. I continued waiting. Eventually someone came. He introduced himself as one of the knights. I told him my name - but, instead of giving my mother's last name, I gave the last name of the man I supposed to be my father. He examined the blade and fell silent. "Come with me," he said.

    I was brought to the knight's keep, in the center of the city. Even at night, it was everything I had imagined it to be. Every last brick spoke of honor, bravery, and loyalty. Every last torch shone, casting away the darkness. The swords, the armor, the pictures, and even the doors looked like things that only exist in dreams, for how beautiful they looked.

    He took me to the grandest door I've ever seen. Behind this door was the judgment room, where the highest-ranking knights made important decisions. He brought me in. Dozens of knights - some whose beards showed their great wisdom and whose eyes showed their strength - sat already in the judgment seats around the room.

    They asked me questions about everything, from the man whose sword I bore to where I lived. Half of what I told them was a lie, but they still believed me. They asked me if I would join their order. It took everything I had to not sound too excited. I was to report for beginning training with the other new recruits who had arrived a week ago.

    At that moment, I decided I would be the best knight they had ever seen. Of course, I had to keep my true heritage a secret. If they ever found out my mother was the dreaded Witch Queen, the Vile Temptress, an Evil Shapeshifter, born of chaos and darkness. . .

    I would never let them find out. I would be the best knight they had ever seen. I would hide the truth from them always. I would make my father proud. . . of course, he would never find out, either. I was the only one who would know, but I vowed to myself I would be the best.

    I went to my first training session bright and early the next day, before the sun had awoken.


    The Third Decision takes place just before Freedom, a few weeks before. This decision makes her realize how the two parts of herself are irrevocably in conflict with each other, much like the Chivalric Code. Different parts of her ideals come in conflict, and she has to decide between them, and it leads to one of her greatest regrets.

    Spoiler: Third Decision
    Show

    I had a bad feeling about that mission. Everything about it just felt off. However, it was my job to lead my squad. I had to be the example. Ha! Can you believed it? Me? Why any one of them wanted to follow such a horrible person is beyond - but... I guess they didn't know better.

    The mission was simple enough: enter an abandoned outpost, retrieve some old documents, then return. The first problem came when the documents weren't where it was said they would be. As we searched, we grew careless. After all, we thought we were alone.

    We weren't. We were attacked and captured one-by-one in secret, until I was the only one left. When I looked around for my squad, there were only a few traces and tracks here or there. I found where they were, eventually: surrounded and captured in an enemy camp. Overhearing small conversations, I discovered they were to chase me off and force me to return to the keep - it would disgrace my honor losing the whole squad like that, and I would be demoted. Then, they would kill my squad members - most of whom were fresh from training - so nobody would be the wiser.

    I analyzed the situation. I couldn't leave them to die. They were my men. They trusted me. They had faith in me. For most of them, it was their first official mission. They had so much to live for still.

    However, I couldn't save them. Actually, more accurately, I couldn't save them without using any of my strengths as an Evil Shapeshifter. That would, of course, reveal my heritage. It would destroy everything I've worked for along these past several years. I would be shown a liar. I could be disciplined, or worse - excommunicated.

    I couldn't let that happen. Everything I'd worked for, everything I've done...

    But I couldn't leave them. They trusted in me. They hadn't done anything wrong. They didn't invent lies to become a knight; I did. They didn't steal to get their swords; I did. They weren't born in wickedness; I was. They weren't deceiving everyone who trusted in them; I was. They weren't unforgivable; I was.

    They didn't deserve this. I did. It was my fault.

    I knelt down and prayed fervently, for it could be my last. I asked for my squad's safety, and then I snuck into the camp, shapeshifted. Using my powers, I broke my men out. They questioned how it was possible, but we all escaped.

    Everything was fine until we returned to the knight's keep. I was imprisoned, stripped of my honor, and I awaited the results of my trial.

    I was excommunicated and sentenced to death.


    The Fourth Decision happens simultaneously as Betrayal, years after her third major decision, but it fills in some of the gaps in the story. Something unique about this one (compared to the previous ones) is how time passes during this story. It's not exactly chronological, due to all the flash backs that happen every paragraph. Time and how it works is actually something significant throughout it. Regret is what Harley won from making this decision.

    Spoiler: Fourth Decision
    Show

    The gates pounded. Everything else had fallen. Only these last gates and doors were left, and I soon expected them to fall. I had called all of our defenders across the country back here, but out defenses fell one by one. Only we were left - me and my men, the elite guard. I told them we would fight to the last man against these insurmountable odds. It was our duty to protect the Queen, and we would sooner die than surrender.

    The castle shook. Another wall fell. I gave some more commands and roused them. Reminded them of our strategy: arrows first, then I lead the charge. It was a grim meeting. We knew how much longer we had. We knew how long it would take the catapults or the mages to get through each door.

    The next gate fell and its echo resounded like a death knell. I repositioned my sword and whispered a command to one next to me. This entire assault was, in fact, the Queen's fault. Her daughter - my sister - broke me out of prison before my sentence and brought me back. I became a guard, but her (the Queen's) aggression and dirty manipulations had already offended a lot of people.

    The next door fell. We had to defend from a lot of attacks and assassination attempts. The more we defended, the more frequent and complex they became. We lost several men over the course of the years and received new guards every so often, promoted from other guard positions to the royal guard.

    The next door fell. The attacks had stopped for a moment, and we grew complacent. What we didn't know - we had lost too many spies over the years - was that a large army was gathering from all the kingdoms that wanted to take down the Eternal Queen.

    Another door fell. There weren't many left. The army had come all at once, destroying the cities and countrysides we had previously conquered.

    Another wall fell. I received a message from the back of the room. I was to go and leave with the royal family, out a secret exit.

    The castle shook again. There wasn't enough time for the entire guard to leave; there were only two more doors.

    The next door fell. How could I leave my men? they would have to stay and buy us time while I fled like a coward. I went back with my family - my mother and sister. Nobody knew I was, in fact, related but none protested because I was the leader. What I said was true and they obeyed.

    The final door fell. I left them behind.

    I wasn't fit to be their leader. I betrayed them and let them die while I lived. I betrayed them. Each one of their lives bought me a precious second. I knew every one of those seconds and I could hear their cries. I knew every one of their names. I knew the sound of their voices. I knew everything about them. Each second echoed through the night, ringing for the last time. I felt each and every last second fly away into the cold and eternal night, not to be reborn again until tomorrow. Each second lasted a lifetime but ended too suddenly; their echo fell silent.

    Time clung to my tears as they fell to the ground. Every last one, I counted them all.

    One minute and seventeen seconds.


    The Fifth Decision. These words describe it: Sorrow. Repetition. Despair. Hopelessness. Loss of control. This decision, really, is the big decision that made her stop trying to be heroic. This story is not dictated by chronology or time, by the way - it happens pure psychologically. It takes place between Honor and Change. Interesting fact: the same other character from Honor makes an appearance in this decision, although his name is still unknown.

    Spoiler: Fifth Decision
    Show

    All the soap int he world can't clean my hands. All the soap in the world can't clean my conscience. No matter how many times I wash, I can't forget.

    Several days had already passed and that mantra never left my mind. All the soap in the world can't buy me forgiveness. I wash my hands over and over, but it's still there.

    I thought I had lost everything already. I thought there was nothing left. I couldn't control myself. I couldn't control my powers. As I slept, I shapechanged. As I slept, I had nightmares. Is I slept, I cried out. When I woke, there was blood. He was dead. I was alone. If I were anyone else, this wouldn't have happened. All the soap in the world can't clean my hands.

    I thought I had lost everything already. I thought there was nothing left. It was cold, even moreso in our makeshift hovel. It could barely keep the snow out. The wind blew, and I didn't have the strength to move. The snow fell, and I was too weak to speak. The cold set in, and I wasn't strong enough. Our newborn died from exposure. If I were anyone else, this wouldn't have happened. All the soap in the world can't clean my conscience.

    I thought I had lost everything already. I thought there was nothing left. We were on the run, looking for shelter. There was nothing to eat. Even though I hunted and searched, I couldn't find anything in time. I wasn't fast enough. I didn't search long enough. I couldn't throw far enough. Our son starved. If I were anyone else, this wouldn't have happened. No matter how many times I wash, I can't forget.

    I thought I had lost everything already. I thought there was nothing left. We were chased from place to place, persecuted. Places to flee were running out. I was tired. I was exhausted. I didn't stay up to stand watch. I chose to sleep. I didn't get up fast enough to get everyone out. The house caught fire, and our daughter didn't get out fast enough. I failed her. If I were anyone else, this wouldn't have happened. All the soap in the world can't buy me forgiveness.

    I thought I had lost everything. I thought there was nothing left. Our revolution failed. I wasn't brave enough. I hesitated. I didn't want to repeat my past. I thought I could do it all.I thought they would be safe if I went out alone. I thought they would be fine if I left them behind. I thought my powers were strong enough.

    They were not. If I were anyone else, this wouldn't have happened. All the soap in the world can't change who I am.

    I lost everything. There was nothing left to lose. It has all been taking. I would do anything. Make sure it would never happen again. I'll start a war. I'll turn everyone against another. I'll deceive, trick, lead, and assassinate. I'll whisper lies into ears and give away secrets. Infiltrate. Fight. Betray. The more dangerous, the better. High risk? I'll do it.

    I have nothing left to lose. I have nothing left to gain. I have a vengeance that needs to be filled. I thirst for blood.


    The Sixth Decision is the reason why she came to the Nexus and joined AMEN. It takes place moments before coming to the Nexus. More than a large decision, it's a reflection on her life - on who she was, who she wanted to be, and who she has become.

    Spoiler: Sixth Decision
    Show

    I can't do it anymore. I'm not one of the "good guys" and I can never be one. It's not in my nature. I've been struggling to be a hero, to be a savior, to be someone else. I can't. It's just not who I am. It's not who I was born to be. It's not who I'll ever be.

    I've tried to give up who I've become. It's impossible. Looking back at my life, I've noticed that I've become more and more like my mother. Even though I've tasted the light - seen it, touched it - it was never mine to begin with. I've been trying to be a good person. Over the past two years, I went on missions to help. I've helped defend the weak. I've used my sword to attack the wicked. In the end, though, I always go back to my old ways. Beneath this façade of righteousness, I'm really and truly a terrible person.

    My whole life was a lie. I've been lying to myself. I stole to get my first sword - my "father"'s sword. I know he's not my father now. I lied and deceived to become a knight. I betrayed and abandoned those who trusted in me. I was too weak and foolish for those who needed me. As much as I hate it, I have no control over who I am. My friends - if they can be called that - only want to be with me when I'm doing good. When I needed them, they abandoned me. When I needed strength, they let me be who I actually am. My family wants me back with them - but, to do that, I need to give up this façade of a life I've been living. I don't want to. If I could, I would abandon every last memory of my mother, the Witch Queen, the Eternal Queen. But I can't. Every time I look in the mirror, I see her.

    I lost my father's sword and my new sword hates me. All I have left of him is his old, worn scabbard. In his memory, I'll throw away my own last name - my mother's name - and take his. Rather than Martinez, I'll be called Zorzo. I'll throw away who I've become - the Obsidian Butterfly, a knight - an assassin - and just be myself.

    I can't be anything other than myself. I can't be good. I can't be the hero. I can't be a knight.

    I can only be who I am - a villain - and that's who I'll be.


    The Final Decision hasn't happened yet, and may never happen. That is why it isn't written yet. With the Nexus, anything can happen. Harley can be redeemed. She can die a hero. She can remain a villain. She can become worse. She can become better.

    Spoiler: Final Decision
    Show

    Destiny does not dictate our decisions.
    Last edited by 5a Violista; 2014-05-15 at 04:01 PM.
    Favorite sports:
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    ALSO! Come roleplay FFRPG in the Nexus!
    Nexus Characters.

  13. - Top - End - #283
    Ogre in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Carrie / Agatha / Kynegetis (Alt-Canon)
    Spoiler: What Love Is: A Brief Musical in Six Parts
    Show
    Spoiler: Chapter 1: All That Glitters
    Show
    Carrion Andrews has been a proud Selenite and follower of Ponera, Goddess of Envy, for six years. Ever since druids killed her parents, the Selenites took her in and showed her that the only way to survive is to become the fittest. When they told her it was time to make Vulpania pay, it was so easy to remind her that the enemy king was a druid. A druid with a big happy family...
    That bastard. That absolute bastard. Every moment she thinks about King Tobias, Carrie is driven to greater rage. He gets to be a king and have a loving wife, a son, daughters... and here she is. Sure, she has a gorgeous girlfriend and heaps of power and prestige, but every scrap of it she had to fight and backstab and blackmail and extort for. And it is never enough, it never makes her any happier.
    Some days she feels like she's trying to fill a bottomless pit with diamonds. But right now, straightening her tie and brushing ash from her suit, Carrie rides high on adrenaline and pride.
    ---
    Agatha has always wanted to be a seamstress. Just a seamstress; it makes her happy and she does good work and it's all she's needed... but for the trappings of her society. Even tailoring in the City of Envy is to be part of a war with one's competitors. Even though she knows some very valuable... techniques, she's always wanted to stay just below the radar and work without having to worry too much.
    And then she met a girl named Carrie. A girl with a taste for blood and a taste for suits and an eye for pretty girls with nice figures and dextrous hands. And so Agatha became attached to a beautiful rising star in Ponerian society...
    Or shackled to one?
    The door to their penthouse apartment opens and Carrie sweeps in, frock coat dramatically billowing behind her. Agatha charmed it to do that at her girlfriend's request, of course. Carrie seats herself in the plush lap of the other black-haired girl, amber eyes meeting icy blue as she kisses her. "Hiya, babe, brought you a little something from the battle." Atop the nice smooth fabric Aggie just ironed, she pours from her pocket a few fistfuls of the spoils of war. "Like it?"

    Aggie sighs and prods at the gold and pearls. "Yes, but I'd like them better if they weren't mussing up the satin." She brushes the loot off to the side of her workspace, looking at the dress order for a moment. The man who ordered the dress wants it as an anniversary gift for his wife, a revival of a dress she had and loved as a young girl but lost in a fire. Design notes sit side-by-side with old pictures... would Carrie do that for her? It seems all she does these days is bring back whatever spoils she's collected and... tug her toward the bed like she's doing now.
    Ah well.

    ---

    Carrie looks over her shoulder from the balcony to the bed, eyes flicking over her girlfriend. Standing at the railing stark naked, she knows how many people want to kill her right now. She also knows that they won't, because they fear either what she'll do if they fail, or what backup plans she'll have even if she should be killed. That's easy. But Aggie? Aggie doesn't look happy, even though she has an enthusiastic lover constantly bringing her gifts.
    "Aggs... what's wrong? Is it the gold, don't you like it? Do you want more? Do you want something else, like silver or platiinum? Girl, what's wrong?" She sighs.
    Killed you some Vulpanians
    No tricks at the wheel
    I don't fear anyone
    I won't even just pretend
    Honey, we're Ponerians

    Aren't we all just Ponerians?
    It's the state of the world
    I'm afraid I can't help it
    I'm afraid I can't
    Aren't we all just Ponerians?
    It's the state of the world
    I'm afraid I can't help it
    I'm afraid I can't
    Aren't we all Ponerians?

    Here's a golden hairpin
    Beat the owner in with a rock
    Thought it'd please my woman
    Why's your heart still bound with this lock?
    Aren't we just Ponerians?

    Aren't we all just Ponerians?
    It's the state of the world
    I'm afraid I can't help it
    I'm afraid I can't
    Aren't we all just Ponerians?
    It's the state of the world
    I'm afraid I can't help it
    I'm afraid I can't
    Aren't we all Ponerians?

    Honey, we're Ponerians
    Honey, I'd bring you the stars
    Jade combs for your hair and
    Sparkling gems from afar
    Honey, we're Ponerians
    Aren't we all Ponerians?

    Aren't we all Ponerians?

    Aren't we all just Ponerians?
    It's the state of the world
    I'm afraid I can't help it
    I'm afraid I can't
    Aren't we all just Ponerians?
    It's the state of the world
    I'm afraid I can't help it
    I'm afraid I can't
    Aren't we all Ponerians?

    Aren't we all just Ponerians?
    It's the state of the world
    I'm afraid I can't help it
    I'm afraid I can't
    Aren't we all just Ponerians?
    It's the state of the world
    I'm afraid I can't help it
    I'm afraid I can't
    Aren't we all Ponerians?

    I am a Ponerian


    Turning back from the evening view of the City of Envy, Carrie sees Agatha facing away, laying on her side, probably asleep.
    She makes a frustrated little sound and curls up beside her girlfriend, eyes sliding shut as she sates herself on dreams of glory over the Vulpanians...


    Spoiler: Chapter 2: The Other Side
    Show
    Kynegetis, Angela the Huntress, is understandably a hot item when it comes to Selenites. They all want a go at her, a chance to prove that they can defeat the totally badass daughter of the badass enemy leader, and maybe win her heart because they're super great and this is usually the point at which she has interrupted their train of thought by shanking them in the everything.

    And the creepy fanmail. Oh boy, they just keep finding new ways to get it to her, especially the followers of the god of pride... but this one's more unusual. Both in that a) it's from a follower of Envy's incarnation and b) it was delivered as a memory recording of the last moments of a Vulpanian soldier via his severed head.

    The beginning indicates he was tied to a tree; a girl in a dove-grey suit and paisley tie, black hair blowing in the wind, steps back from her terrified captive. "Now be a good boy and stay there... cripes, I hope this works this time. Ahem... greetings, Kynegetis. See these dead people I arranged in the shape of your name? Yeah, that's for you, doll. I've seen your work and it's hard not to admire... in a "totally hate you" way. So I felt like you deserved a personal message. I want to say... oh, how do I put it?
    Oh! Perhaps like this."
    Come on down to the other side
    Come with me through the gates of hell
    Where I'll drag you from where you are
    To where you belong

    Come on down to the other side
    Come with me through the gates of hell
    Where I'll drag you from where you are
    To where you belong

    There's so much
    To fear
    Your last breaths
    Are here
    This ship is coming down
    This ship is coming down
    This ship is coming down
    Coming down coming down

    You
    You are so precious
    A diamond in the rough
    And when you try to escape
    I'll be holding on

    And I can't sleep until this is done
    You're in my head, you're in my soul

    Come on down to the other side
    Come with me through the gates of hell
    Where I'll drag you from where you are
    To where you belong

    Come on down to the other side
    Come with me through the gates of hell
    Where I'll drag you from where you are
    To where you belong

    I'll
    Take you completely
    And everything you own
    From the cover to the cover
    The cover to the cover
    Your lover (to your brother)
    To your mother (to the others)

    You... you are so precious
    So won't you come my way?
    Your life is falling apart
    Under the waves

    And I can't sleep until this is done
    You're in my head, you're in my soul

    Through the gates of hell
    I know you

    This ship is coming down
    This ship is coming down
    Coming down...

    ...Down to the other side
    Come with me through the gates of hell
    Where I'll drag you from where you are
    To where you belong

    Come on down to the other side
    Come with me through the gates of hell
    Where I'll drag you from where you are
    To where you belong


    "... So. Heh. You know where you'll find me, babe, and you know what I want. As for my girlfriend, perhaps she could use you somehow---you could model her dresses for her, or at least act as a hatrack. Don't leave me hangin', toots."
    She giggled, advancing on the 'cameraman' with a sizzling hum from her right hand, orange energy coalescing into a blade...

    Kyne sighs.

    "... Dad, tell me I can make an example of this one."
    ---
    Agatha had gotten to see the woman's face when she tried on the dress in the mirror. The way her eyes lit up and then went straight to he husband... she looked happy, and it looked like the happiness came from her spouse. She had managed to maneuver them into staying just a little longer as she asked about their marriage, how long they'd been together. What seemed like innocent shop-talk hid a hunger, a jealousy, a yearning for what they had and she didn't.

    It's not fair, she thinks as she watches them go. She cares about Carrie, she really does, and she wants her to be happy... but doesn't she deserve to be happy too? Carrie doesn't make her happy, she just tries to solve the problem with sex and trinkets like it's all she knows to do. And perhaps it is all she knows... but she can't leave Carrie because, damnably, she does love the girl. And yet, the way the Blightwalker warrior acts, it seems doubful that she cares as much---so how long would she put up with being told of her deficiencies before she dropped Agatha like a hot potato?
    Trapped between a rock and a hard place with a girl who tries to substitute warmth with wealth.


    Spoiler: 3. Astonishing Panorama of Your Last Breath - No Longer Numb?
    Show
    The orange energy from Carrie's hands sharpens into blades as she cuts down another Vulpanian soldier. Grinning, she starts to loot the body before it's even cold, the tenth one today...
    She dives to the side a heartbeat before the knife hits the dirt, thus ensuring that's all it hits---rather than taking her right through the spine.
    A lithe, slim redhead drops from a dead tree---Kynegetis the huntress.
    "You called me. Here I am. Get dead."

    Carrie grins as they start to circle each other. "Oh, what an honor... I'm afraid you're going to be the one in trouble, sweetheart." Waves of black pulse across her sclera as her canines seem, for a moment, sharp; sinuous tattoos flicker up her bare hands away up the sleeves of her frock coat. Stepping forward, her speed starts to rival Kyne's. A flurry of silver and orange flashes and hisses between them as they begin their deadly dance.

    This girl's got a head like an atom bomb
    Hang you from the walls, show that I'm number one
    And I've been waiting so long
    To get it on

    Girl, I'm 19, but I'm still 12-gauge
    Wanna hang your daddy's corpse in a cage
    I've already written your last page
    It's the latest rage

    Violence for the people
    We always eat the hand that bleeds
    Violence for the people
    Give the kids what they need
    I'll kill your gods, kill your gods,
    Your family

    I've been purified by the sinner gods
    Burning through your dross like a revelation
    Let the jaws engulf you
    Like a puppet head

    Violence for the people
    We always eat the hand that bleeds
    Violence for the people
    Give the kids what they need
    I'll kill your gods, kill your gods,
    Your family

    This is what you should fear
    I am what you should fear

    Violence for the people
    We always eat the hand that bleeds
    Violence for the people
    Give the kids what they need
    I'll kill your gods, kill your gods,
    Your family

    Violence for the people
    We always eat the hand that bleeds
    Violence for the people
    Give the kids what they need
    I'll kill your gods, your family
    kill your gods, your family
    kill your gods, your family

    ---

    The two stare at each other, each exhausted, panting, and nicked here and there. Kyne glowers at this overconfident mortal, this prettied-up popinjay who thinks herself equal to the Huntress. But Carrie can't take her eyes off Kyne for different reasons---somehow, her lithe, sinuous body captivates her; her fiery red hair, her piercing eyes, just draw her in.

    She's so engrossed that when Kyne gets up and starts to back away, she only blurts out, "W-where are you going?"

    Kyne stares at her like she'd just asked to borrow her car for a few days. "... Both sides are pulling back. I am leaving, and so should you, idiot."

    "Oh... yeah, I guess they are. Um..." Carrie blinks; where's her usual rapier wit? "... Bye then." NO THAT WAS STUPID STUPID DUMB. She gets up and starts to back away, hoping the flush of exertion covers the sudden blush in her cheeks. What's wrong with her?

    ---

    Carrie comes home and Agatha is ready for posturing and lust and all the things Carrie does when she comes home with her pockets full of loot and her kill-count increased by a few handfuls.
    Carrie puts a handful of brooches and pendants and medals on the side of the work table, throwing her clothes on the bed with an uncommon lack of... energy. Not just fatigue---being physically worn has never stopped Carrie's antics---but something deeper.
    "Hi babe, 'm gonna take a shower..." She stumbles over to kiss Agatha's cheek, then walks into the bathroom. The pattering hiss of the showerhead starts up, the roll of the sliding glass door...

    Confused, Agatha walks through the bathroom door Carrie never bothered to close. "Hon? You okay? You seem really out of it..."

    "'m okay." Even at her most laconic, Carrie tends to be more polysyllabic than that...

    "... Well, I'm coming in with you, alright?" Agatha listens closely for the response.

    "'Kay."

    Unnerved, Agatha undresses and steps in behind her lover. Something's just... really, really not right.

    Hello? Is there anybody in there?
    Just nod if you can hear me
    Is there anyone home?
    Come on now
    I know you're feeling down
    Let me ease your pain
    And get you on your feet again
    Sweetie, you need to let me help you first
    Won't you let me in?
    Won't you show me where it hurts?


    There is no pain, it's just confusion
    And you are hazy 'bove the horizon
    You are only coming through in waves
    Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying
    When I was out there, I had a feeling
    My heart felt just like a balloon
    Now I have that feeling even still
    I can't explain, I barely understand
    This is not how I am
    I have become no longer numb


    Carrie, don't tell me this is some trick
    It's just that you---(AAAAAAAAAHHHH!)
    That you sound a little sick
    Can you stand up?
    Sounds like your body's working, good
    Though your face has yet to show
    Why won't you just let me know?


    There is no pain, it's just confusion
    And you are hazy 'bove the horizon
    You are only coming through in waves
    Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying
    When I was out there
    I caught a fleeting glimpse
    Out of the corner of my eye
    I turned to look but it was gone
    I cannot put my finger on it now
    The child is grown
    The dream is gone
    And I have become
    No longer numb.

    ---

    Carrie lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Agatha's barely gotten a peep out of her all evening, just mumbles and uncomfortable silence. The seamstress nestles in under Carrie's arm, an action that would at least earn her a half-joking eyeroll for being 'clingy'.
    Carrie doesn't react at all. Her thoughts are full of Kynegetis and the strange fluttering her heart does around her.


    Spoiler: 4. What Love Is - Nobody Home
    Show
    Each time she's seen Kyne again, Carrie has felt so strange. It's throwing her off her game; she's not bringing home quite as much loot for Aggie as usual, and that's probably why her girlfriend has seemed even more dissatisfied lately. Carrie resents and loathes the Huntress for doing this to her, however she's done it. She's tried killing extra Vulpanians to get back at her, but it doesn't feel as fun any more.

    And now she has her again, another one-on-one. Kyne is beyond words now, already moving to strike, and Carrie's glad of it---she doesn't know what to say other than the strange mess bubbling up inside, this confused collage of emotions...

    And suddenly, between knife parries and lunges, she starts to let it out, the words riding on the breaths between strikes. Something changes on the Huntress's face and Carrie brightens, thinking something she said has clicked and she's finally going to get some sort of answer that makes things make sense, and---

    Foot meets girl.Girl leaves ground. Girl meets tree trunk, reunites with ground.

    Kyne hunkers down a couple yards away, looking at Carrie with more than her usual disgust. Before she looked at her like she wanted to kill her. Now she looks at her like... like... trash? A stain on the carpet?

    "... You just came on to me. You just tried to come on to me in battle, and you weren't doing it just to annoy me---trust me, I know that well enough." She shakes her head, sighing. "I really don't get you... how can a person understand the whole relationship thing even more poorly than I do? You threaten my family, you kill my people, you mock me and bug me and strut and brag and now you turn around and suddenly you're pouring out your feelings to me?" She strides over, reaches down... and takes Carrie's pocket square.

    "I have a lot of trouble dealing with people and my feelings about them. It's hard for me to express what I want a lot of the time, even when I understand what I want, which is rare enough... but I still think that someday, I will find someone. I will raise a child with them, maybe more than one, and I'll try to teach my child or children to be good people. They'll achieve more in one day of growing and learning than I have in a year of fighting. But you? You don't seem to have the slightest inkling how this sort of thing works. What were you going to do if I had responded positively to your clumsy little overture?"

    "I---"

    "Elope with me? Convert me to the ways of glorious Ponera? Join the Vulpanians? Were you planning to bring a picnic basket next time so we could find a quiet spot on the battlefield and hold hands when nobody's looking?" Kyne tosses the soiled handkerchief back at Carrie, who cringes. "What's wrong with you? How broken do you have to be not to realize that your... your little crush, or whatever, means nothing?"

    Turning and starting to walk away, Kyne sighs. "I can't even feel sorry for you. It just makes me sick."

    ---

    Carrie watches her walk away, tears rolling down her cheeks. It's not the rejection that hurts---she's realized now that all she felt there was... lust? Idle infatuation? The hurt comes from what the rebuke made her realize.

    No kindness for a puppet
    And no warmth from a hunter,
    Cold and shivering, showered in gold and bangles.

    What I wouldn't give for
    A way to turn back time now
    Instead all I see is me, not seeing you
    Aching for love

    I've done everything wrong, my dear
    And I'm sorry,
    I'm sorry
    I let you
    down.

    No freedom for a soldier
    And no disobeying orders,
    Bruises on a broken neck from strangulation.

    Pain sears through my body
    Reminding me of my failure
    Is living like this better than fatal exsanguination?

    I've done everything wrong, my dear
    And I'm sorry,
    I'm sorry
    'bout the love I left you without.

    Yeah, I'm sorry I let you down,
    I'm sorry I'll skip town,
    but what good is sorry going to do now?
    If I could die for how I've hurt you
    And you'd find somebody else
    The best I can hope for,
    I hope to high hell,
    I should have never hurt you like myself

    Cold and shivering, showered in gold and bangles.

    I've done everything wrong, my dear
    And I'm sorry,
    I'm sorry
    I let you
    down.

    I've gone over the edge, my dear
    And if I've a right to regret, it's
    That I never loved you til now.

    ---
    Agatha turns as she sees Carrie coming in. "Sweetheart, you okay? You look really---" That's all she can get out before the other girl runs to the smaller guest bathroom, locking the door behind her.

    "... Carrie?" Agatha knocks at the door, baffled and more than a little scared. "What's wrong? What happened?" All she gets in response is the sound of sniffling, which increases to weeping, which increases to sobbing.

    Dinner comes and goes, Carrie's plate of chicken curry sitting under saran wrap in the fridge. Agatha's almost entirely sure she's heard Carrie retching in there. But she can't force the door or pick the lock.
    She sits down in front of the door, starting to work on a small dragon plushie. Beside her is a bottle of vodka.

    "You know, hon... there are couples out there that talk. They have fun, they laugh, and---get this---they hold each other. When one has a problem, the other comes and helps. What's stopping us from being those couples, Carrie, is this door between us... or, I guess, whatever's always been between us, and the door is just a concrete reminder of that." She sips her vodka and sighs.

    I've got a little black book with my designs in
    An apartment with lots of gold crap in
    I want to be held and you just bring me more things
    I've got elastic bands holding my heart in
    Got those swollen-eye blues
    Got thirteen kinds of crap you've brought me to choose from
    I've got electric light
    And babe, I've got insight
    I've got amazing powers of observation
    And that is how I know
    When I try to get through
    On the telephone to you
    There'll be nobody home

    I've got the obligatory gentle curves
    And I've got the inevitable sweet-nothing words
    All bottled up with no one to whisper them to
    I've got rings to adorn my fingers
    I've got a silver spoon on a chain
    I've got a pile of gewgaws to prop up my mortal remains
    I've got piercing blue eyes
    I've got a strong urge to fly
    But I've got no one to fly with
    Ooooh Babe when I pick up the phone
    There's still nobody home
    There's just a pair of your war boots
    And our flower has dying roots...


    ---

    Carrie opens the door a crack. She sees Agatha passed out on the floor, empty vodka bottle beside her and near-finished plushie in her hands. Smiling weakly, the swollen-eyed girl notices how even drunk and conked out, Agatha is still so lovely...

    Cradling her in her arms like a glass doll, she painstakingly tucks her into bed. A few minutes later, a small dragon plushie joins Agatha, and Carrie sits down at the desk to write.


    Spoiler: 5. Goodbye Cruel World - Wish You Were Here - Goodbye (Reprise)
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    Agatha dreams of waking next to a tearstained Carrie, holding her tightly, calling her an idiot and never, ever letting her go.
    Agatha wakes next to a note on Carrie's pillow, her mouth tasting of vodka and an amateurishly-finished plush toy in her arms.
    Sighing, she pulls the letter over and opens it. Maybe Carrie's still in the bathroom being a melodramatic idiot...

    "Dear Agatha,

    Enclosed is an official document stating that in the case of my death, all my possession and titles will pass to you.
    I hope they, and being associated with one who died fighting the forces of the Black Fox, will help you find a girlfriend for real this time, not just a girl who leaves you shivering and unheld in a pile of stolen trinkets.
    This is the only way I can see to atone.
    I'm so sorry."
    Agatha bolts out of bed, scrambling to dress as she realizes what's going on in the mind of the idiot she can't manage to stop loving.

    ---

    Goodbye cruel world
    I'm leaving you today
    Goodbye
    Goodbye
    Goodbye
    Goodbye all you people
    There's nothing you can say
    To make me change
    My mind
    Goodbye.


    Carrie turns slowly, knowing Kyne will be behind her. She gives a weak smile, sighing. "It's a nice morning."

    The redhead stares flatly back. "What are you up to now? Another proposal? Or are you going to beg for forgiveness?"

    "No," the suited girl shakes her head, "though I am going to apologize for... that. But also I want to thank you---"

    "Oh, don't you start, you---"

    "---for helping me realize how badly I was letting someone down and the only way I could do right by her. Which... right now, is to fight you and die."

    Kyne blinks, idly twirling a knife. "Oh, and exactly why should I even give you that much?"

    Carrie steps forward, shrugging. "Not for me, but... if you could do it for someone I've been hurting for far too long, maybe?" She forms the orange blades from the Blightwalker energy of her hands, smiling weakly again. "Or whatever reason works for you."

    "... If you try to throw this fight, if you just let me kill you, I'm going to leave you here. Keep me engaged with a decent effort and maybe I'll be too focused to care about all the reasons I should just let you rot."

    Carrie smiles a little more, nodding. "That's all I needed to hear. Thank you, Huntress."

    ---

    Agatha has never really been cut out for battle. Oh, she's fit and she can take care of herself, but her talents have mostly been sartorial. Nevertheless, she did learn a thing or two about other uses for needles...

    A big Vulpanian lunges for the running girl, black bun coming undone to let her hair stream behind her. She ducks under his axe, plunging a needle into a spot between shoulder and neck, and his arm goes numb and limp. She doesn't pay him any more attention, just running. A boy who can't be any more than 17 shakily starts to get in her way, hands gripping his spearhaft with white knuckles. "H... Halt, Selenite scum! I---"

    She keeps running past him. He starts to run after her, baffled. "I said stop!"

    She skids to a halt, grabbing his sleeve to stop him with her. "Selenite girl in a suit, long black hair, not carrying any weapons. Have you seen her?" She snaps at him, making the teen recoil.

    "W-why should I t---"

    "GIRL. SUIT. WHERE?"

    Cringing, the boy numbly points; the woman lets go of his sleeve, pushes him away, and runs in the direction he pointed. "Sh-she's fightin' the Huntress, I heard! You're gonna get yourself killed!"

    Aggie doesn't care. If the boy had told her the Black Fox himself had been in that direction, she wouldn't have cared. The whole Vulpanian army couldn't stop her from reaching Carrie, her melodramatic idiot of a lover.

    So, so you think you can tell
    Heaven from Hell
    blue skies from pain?
    Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
    A smile from a veil?
    Do you think you can tell?

    Did you think you could sell
    The spoils of your war
    Buy comfort for me?
    Hot air for a cool breeze?
    Cold comfort for change?
    Did you exchange a walk-on part in the war for a lead role in a grave?

    How I wish, how I wish you were here.
    We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
    Running over the same old ground.
    What have we found?
    The same old fears.
    Wish you were here.


    ---

    Agatha finds them behind a low rise in the landscape. Flecks of blood dot the grass all around, shreds of pinstripe grey like fallen petals on the green.
    The Huntress lays on her back, chest heaving, eyes closed, still gripping a knife. A few yards away... Carrie. She's cut up worse than her foe, blood all over her, but she's breathing as she lays on her side.
    Aggie falls to her knees, panting and drenched in sweat, touching Carrie's hair with a shaky hand. "You... you idiot. Even when you realize how bad you messed up, you still wouldn't know love if it stabbed you in the stomach..."

    Slowly, painfully, muscles burning, she hauls Carrie onto her shoulders in a fireman's carry. Reaching into Carrie's shirt, she yanks off the chain bearing two little pendants---one Selenite, one Ponerian. Then she doffs her own, throwing them at the Huntress. They land on her bare arm, and the redheaded girl jerks. She levers herself up on on elbow, looking at them.

    Agatha doesn't look at her, just trudging away. "Good job, Huntress. You killed two Selenites here today, even if one of them was just a seamstress... and the other was just stupid."

    Goodbye cruel war
    We're leaving you today
    Goodbye
    Goodbye
    Goodbye
    Goodbye all you schemers
    There's nothing you can say
    To make me change
    My mind
    Goodbye.


    Spoiler: 6. Wedding Rings and Laughs
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    [One Year Later]

    Agatha's always been a bit curvier than scrawny Carrie, not just from having a less active job. That might make it a bit of a task for her to be carried in the arms of her more thin lover, though offset by the latter being in pretty good shape from her frequent battles.

    But add to that the fact that Carrie now has trouble walking without a cane, the loss of her left eye, and a general decrease in the constant activity that kept her so toned... it's a pretty heavy ordeal.

    As she is carried in over the threshold of the mountain cottage, wearing the dress she designed and made herself, she can't think of a single complaint to make about Carrie's performance. And riddled with scars or not, her bride looks wonderful in a tux.

    She's grateful, for Carrie's sake, that their bedroom is on the ground floor---even she's not so dewy-eyed as to believe the injured girl wouldn't have trouble on the stairs, carrying a whole person and caneless. As she's laid down on the bed, she adjusts a scarf that's been draped around her neck all morning. It's of novice quality, knitted rather clumsily, and the "WILL YOU MARRY ME" on one side is barely amateur-level. Certainly less skillful than even the hastily-fixed knits and purls on the other side that read "YES STUPID".

    Carrie falls to her knees, a little shaky as she rests her head against her prone bride's shoulder. Down the length of her arm her single amber eye travels, stopping on the ring on her finger. Double shifts and overtime at her security job bought that; she couldn't give Agatha some ring she took off a foe. She'd wanted to leave all of their loot behind, in fact.

    Agatha had called her devotion to starting with a clean slate admirable and noble and all that, and then reminded her that this whole "starting a new life" thing required money and savings, and that it was better to leave the spoils of war all behind with someone else who would give them money for it.

    Climbing up next to the seamstress, Carrie drapes an arm around her and closes her eye.

    The Selenite is on the grass
    The Selenite is on the grass
    Forgetting schemes for wedding rings and laughs
    They cannot stray us from the path
    Vulpanians are in the hall
    Vulpanians are in the 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 their heads explode with dark forbodings too
    We'll be here on the dark side of the moon


    The Selenites aren't in my head
    Vulpanians aren't in my head
    You braved the blade, we make the change
    We rearranged us to be sane
    We lock the door
    And throw away the key
    There's someone in my head; it's you, not me
    And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
    You shout and no one seems to hear
    And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
    We'll be here on the dark side of the moon


    This is a story written from an old idea FF reminded me about.
    Last edited by Beans; 2015-05-25 at 01:07 AM.
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  14. - Top - End - #284
    Troll in the Playground
    Join Date
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Index updated through post 287.

    I've requested twice now to have the Nexus prefix added to this thread, but so far nothing. Maybe third time lucky?
    My avatar! Isn't it just utterly diabolical? Ashen Lilies made it!

    "Money cannot buy health, but I'd settle for a diamond-studded wheelchair."
    ― Dorothy Parker


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  15. - Top - End - #285
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Beans's Avatar

    Join Date
    Dec 2008
    Location
    in the glory box

    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Carrie / Agatha
    Alt-canon / I dunno / A folky tale?

    Spoiler: Death and the Seamstress
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    A seamstress sat down in a garden she had found in the city. Nobody knew whose it was, but the small garden was always tended to, full of bright flowers. A small fountain trickled into a pond in the corner, and a brick path curved past a bed of gravel raked into waves.

    She looked about in the garden until suddenly Death loomed through the gate, her wings shaggy like a vulture's and her cloak faded and worn and patched. She turned her amber eyes on the seamstress and gave her a solemn nod, then kneeled before a flowerbed and began to inspect the plants. Wherever she found a sickly leaf, she plucked it away.

    The seamstress knew Death by sight, but she was a proud girl. She folded her arms and stuck out her chin. "Death," she said, "how is it that your garden is so ordinary? You should have a garden full of bones, or black flowers in black soil, or at least some dead bodies under the dirt. But all your flowers are... normal!"

    Death turned to look at the seamstress. "Bones aren't very nice to have in a garden, and black flowers on black soil would be so plain. Just because I'm Death doesn't mean I don't want my garden to be pretty." In one pale hand, she plucked a stem. "Would you like some forget-me-nots? They're my favorites, and they match your eyes."

    The seamstress was about to reply that forget-me-nots were rather silly little flowers, but her eyes caught on the stitches and patches of Death's cloak. Her brain fired into action, and she barely got out a goodbye before she was running home to get the designs in her head onto paper. She concocted a dress of elegant patchwork, the curves and lines of the pieces of fabric flowing and calculated, a dappled garment like no other. She put it together and within the week it was sold and had been worn at some cocktail party.

    The seamstress came back to the garden the next week, looking at the small pool in the corner of the garden. The fountain made the water ripple and glimmer in the sunlight, and the fish flashed and darted in its clear depths. Death came again and smiled at the seamstress, and she sat at the edge of the pool with her great shaggy wings half-opened.

    "Death," the seamstress said, "why is your pool so ordinary? The fish could be skeletal, or the water black as night, or all afire. You could fill it with tiny sharks, or have bones at the bottom." She wondered about telling Death how her cloak had inspired a dress, but wasn't sure how to bring it up.

    Death looked back at the seamstress as the fish darted in and out of the shadows of her wings. "Bones aren't very pretty in a pool either, and black water would make it hard to see the fish. Fiery water would be a little irresponsible, I think, and tiny sharks need salt water, not fresh. Besides, if the fish were all skeletons, it'd be even harder to tell them apart, and I already have trouble telling which is which. I named them all, you know." She smiled, trailing her fingers in the water.

    The seamstress rolled her eyes, but fixed on those great vulturine wings. Her brain went at it again and she was off like a rocket, crafting a masterpiece in her head. She started on a shawl that evening, tasseled and black and a little shaggy, but not disheveled. She even put a trim of black feathers around the edge. Some noblewoman bought it and showed it off at a ritzy soiree, and it was the talk of the town.

    The next week, the seamstress returned. This time she looked at the little rock garden, grey gravel raked carefully into patterns of waves and swirls around large stones. Death came yet again and said hello to the seamstress, then started to smooth away all the paterns in the gravel and rake in new ones.

    "Death," the seamstress said, "why is your rock garden so dull? Those large stones should be gravestones, or there could be bones, or the gravel could be human teeth. You shouldn't have to rake the patterns in yourself, they should form with a flick of your hand."

    Death looked back at the seamstress and blinked. "You seem very set on the idea of me using bones in everything. I don't really want to have a garden that's all... 'Death Things'. I want to have a garden that's nice. And just making the patterns happen with magic spoils the fun. Raking the patterns is very relaxing. You should try it sometime."

    The seamstress looked into Death's amber eyes and was struck by a thought that prevented her from thinking about telling Death how she inspired another success. Instead, she bolted off, knowing what her latest dress was missing. It took some looking around and haggling, but when the buyer saw the amber brooch and the smaller pieces of amber adorning the garment, the seamstress could see her fall in love with it.

    Determined to finally thank Death for the three wonderful ideas she had inspired, the seamstress went back to the garden and waited. But Death didn't come. Every day for a week, the seamstress came. Every day for a week, Death didn't.

    Confused and a little worried, the seamstress looked around for Death, which was not easy. For even though Death walked among mortal men and women, she rarely made herself known, and few had spoken with her as much as the seamstress. She looked in temples and boathouses, in alleys and markets, in ports and the grounds of the palace. Finally, she looked in the grave-fields, and found Death sitting on a hill.

    "Where have you been?" She put her hands on her hips. "I had to water and prune your flowers, rake your rock garden, and invent new names for your fish. Why didn't you come to the garden?"

    Death looked up at her, but only briefly. "Every time we met, you soon ran away. I was afraid I scared you while you were looking for inspiration in the garden, and I didn't want to keep chasing you off."

    The seamstress snorted. "Scared of you? How? You grow tiny flowers, you talk to your fish, you rake waves in a rock garden, and I haven't seen a single skull around the place. I wasn't scared---each time, something about you inspired me, and I wanted to rush home and draw out the design from my thoughts. Now, stop being silly and come back to the garden."

    And Death smiled and stood, and they walked together.
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