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  1. - Top - End - #181
    Ogre in the Playground
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    Meeting of Champions - Trisha

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    If it weren't for the four battalions of different Kingdoms surrounding it, the red and yellow striped tent could have been confused for a circus tent. It stood about thirty feet high, as according to Truce Regulations, and was exactly one hundred and three feet on each side. The origin of such precise measurements being needed is unclear after so long, but any failure to follow them was met by outbursts among the self-proclaimed Truce-ers that set up these meetings among generals before a true declaration of war could be made.

    Within, there were only ten people. Two represented each of the four armies, while the ninth person was the Truce-er Negotiator assigned to the war. The final one didn't belong to any of the sides so much as to one of those that did.

    The first of the four Generals was a short man with quite the large girth. He looked more like a merchant than anything else, dressed in red and gold finery. He came from the Vrissan Empire, a Napoleonic Era kingdom of rank and file musket-men and cannon. It was only a medium sized planar empire, covering a mere three worlds.

    The second was a tall priestess in white robes. She was the First Quadrant of Arithma, God of Purity and Mathematics. As silly as it sounded, the followers of Arithma were powerful people. They could call down their divine Math-a-majicks to warp reality into ways that suited them. Their technology level was little better than the Vrissan's, but they controlled a greater territory of four worlds won through math and blood.

    The third could barely be described as living. He seemed to be more machine than man and stood at nearly seven feet tall. All but the right half of his face seemed to be either clockwork or circuit board, and he carried a powerful steam cannon upon his shoulder. The Half-Clock was part of the Cog Syndicate, a vast organization that "sheltered" seven worlds as near as anyone could tell, but there were estimates that it could be twice as many. They were a secretive type, making it hard to get true numbers on them. Even the Arithmaticks had a difficult time with them.

    Finally, the fourth general was a young man, barely in his 20s, dressed in mail and a dark green tabbard that bore a black skull outline. He was the appointed Commander of the Verdant Crusaders. They were a small group, massing only one world and with few numbers, but their bravery was second to none, and while they lacked much magic, their blades seemed to shear through most materials with ease.

    Currently, the four were in a heated debate over a complicated map of the worlds and the "bridge points" to each, trying to lay out terms for surrender to each other. Sadly, with four of them, it was getting rather messy, even with the Negotiator involved.

    The four Champions that had been appointed to the armies had grown quite bored with the arguments and had went off to the side to enjoy the tea and treats set aside for the occasion.

    "So you're the new Champion of Purity?"
    Vrask asked a rather large demon who was currently eating one of the delicate pastries that adorned the table. Vrask was a tall and rapier thin man, and anyone who didn't know better would assume he was a pushover. In reality, he was an expert tactician and the Champion of War, serving the Vrissan side for the moment. Few people were his peers, and if he actually cared about the Vrissan's drive for profits and resources, he could have easily replaced the blubbering idiot who was the general at the moment.

    The demon, named Atticus, gave a small sigh. He was tall, taller than the Cog General, and broader of chest and shoulder. His red wings were tucked behind his back for the moment to keep from knocking into things. "Freshly appointed. It's a long story." He admits before smiling wryly. "And if you or I were shocked, imagine how the Arithmaticks were when they summoned me to serve their cause. I had never seen so many people screaming heresies before." He says with a chuckle before he slips his arm around a third Champion. "But thanks to Joff, I've gotten used to things." He says with an affectionate squeeze around the Champion of Justice.

    Joff chuckles and sets his glass of wine aside as he slips his own arm around Atticus with a more than friendly squeeze. Joff was a dark skinned man with a thick beard and a turban, but he was clothed in a suit of steam-powered armor, etched with stars and crescents. The pair were obvious lovers, but that didn't bother any of those presence. Even Trisha. "How about you, Hate? What's happened? You look...happier." Joff asks with a tilt of his head, smiling beneath his mustache.

    Trisha was wearing her armor and sword, but unlike the last time she had met any of them, she seemed to have a slight smile to her lips as she shook her head. "Nothing much." She says with a strength to her voice that betrays her to the others, causing Joff to gasp in shock. "You met someone, haven't you?!?" He theorizes with a grin. "Who's the lucky lad?" He asks.

    Vrask rolls his eyes at the question when Trisha actually blushes. "Leave the poor lass alone, Joff. Can't you see she's not ready to tell us?" At that, Joff sighs. "Pleeeeease?" He asks the Champion of Hate, causing Atticus to sigh this time.

    "Now you're acting like a chi-"


    "It's not a lad." Trisha mutters quietly, interrupting Atticus and trying to hide her face by looking down.

    The others look at her with some shock before sharing a look. After a moment, the Steam-knight chuckles and hugs Trisha tight. "Congratulations. Your Master would have been proud." Joff tells her right before a loud shout comes from the generals as they renew their arguments.

    Vrask sighs deeply at that and sets a hand on Trisha's shoulder. "Return to your Fey lover, dear. This is going to be a while..." He suggests, causing Trisha to nod and do just as suggested, heading towards the corner of the tent where Michicora awaited. Trisha couldn't help but smile and sit down next to the elf, slipping an arm around her waist as they waited it out.

  2. - Top - End - #182
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    Quote Originally Posted by happyturtle View Post
    Kerfuffle

    Memories series: The pacing on this is really slow, and one thing that seems missing is how Zel feels about the things happening to her. Being told in first person, there should be more emotional content to the memories.

    Sisters series: I'm not crazy about the 'I'm so evil, lulz!' character type that Zavi seems to represent, but the life bond is interesting. I like playing with that theme - my Jekyll/Hyde characters (Gus/Jake and Billie/Elaine) are two personalities in the same body, while Felis and Vita share all their thoughts and memories but don't share physical sensations. I suppose it has a lot in common with the theme of lycanthropy, demonic possession - basically the idea of one's self not being entirely autonomous.
    I know the pacing is a little bit slow for Memories at the moment, and that's mostly cause I'm getting into the part with the most story to it. This part will also tie in to the Base Spirits from her world. I will try to add more of her thoughts and feelings to it. Not very good at that, but, hey, need to practice, right?

    As for Sisters, I think you might have meant Ivaz for the "I'm so evil!" character. With Zavi, it's supposed to be less about her liking it, and more her just accepting it. More of "Eh, whatever" sort of thing. Their story won't be as long as Zel's, just cause I don't really have a lot worked out for it. Just felt the need to get it out there.

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  3. - Top - End - #183
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    Alright, this is the official version, rewritten so as not to have Remnant involved, though Part 3 on should still make sense even if you've only read the originals:

    Dreams and Nightmares (Rewritten) - Part 1: Entrance (Talina, Nycca)


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    I've done what I can, for now. The Harbingers have been informed that there's a slave-brothel in Fenwood. Or rather that there's one at a specific place, currently in operation; I'm sure they knew that there are probably dozens, given the size of the district, but sending enough people out to find them is impossible, even with magic, psionics and whatever crazy tech they've got.

    Now it's just a matter of doing what I can to help the girls there while I wait, whether with potions when they get sick or just giving them a shoulder to cry on. Nothing else I can do, without getting myself arrested, and probably letting the ones running the place get away in the process. So why do I feel like crap for not doing more?


    Dreams and Nightmares (Rewritten) - Part 2: Cleansing Flames (Talina, Nycca)


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    It's been two weeks, and the Harbingers have done nothing. Apparently, it was easier for them to 'misfile' my report than actually do something about it. Bloody bastards.

    But it doesn't matter now, I suppose. The place is burning merrily as I write this, despite the drizzle. Turns out they weren't expecting the 'healer-witch' who came in and tended to the girls to be able to sling combat spells for some reason. Guess they didn't realize that when most of what you do is sympathetic magic, anyone clever and with power can figure out all sorts of nasty things...

    Anyway, everyone is out now. Finding work for them, and a place to stay in the meantime, is going to be hard, but they seem to be pretty resilient, so at least they should be mostly okay once I have. Not that they're fine, of course, but they will recover, with time and help.

    Or most of them will, anyway. I'm worried about one in particular; a batgirl of some kind. From what one of the others could tell me - she wouldn't, or couldn't, speak, and I didn't push her - her name is Nycca, and she just... Stopped eating soon after she was captured. Poor girl looks like she was in one of the Veilking's prison camps back in the Starsong War. But all I can do is my best, and pray to Chaedarcha she recovers, and worrying about her here isn't going to help, even if it does make me feel better.


    This part hasn't changed, but if I'm reposting the other two, I figured there was no reason not to put this one up again at the same time...

    Dreams and Nightmares - Part 3: That Sleep of Death...


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    Nycca’s started writing a journal now. She doesn’t like to talk, so I suggested she might find it worked better for her, and judging by the fact that she's using the one I gave her, it seems like it does. Of course, spending her time hidden off upstairs writing has made her even more withdrawn. Sometimes it feels like whatever I do to try to help her, she turns it around somehow so that the consequences leave her worse off than she was before... Not that I think she's doing it because she has something against me or anything like that, but it does get frustrating.

    And she's still shivering all the time, and not putting on any weight. I don't know why. She's been getting food, and the supplements and potions I've been giving her should have helped with the malnutrition by now.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Apparently, Nycca doesn't want to keep living; she's been giving her food to Lenia, and putting the blankets we give her back as soon as we aren't looking. The same with everything else.

    I'm not angry with her, more... Sad, and frustrated that I can't seem to help her. I did sit with her for a while, though, which she seems to like. I don't know if she could be said to enjoy it, exactly, but she seems like she appreciates it, and it does seem to make her feel better for a bit.

    She's also hooked up to an IV now, so that she'll at least be getting some sort of nutrition, and I can make sure that the potions I make are actually used. She doesn't like it, but what am I supposed to do? Let her starve herself? If she asked me for poison, I don't know what my answer would be at this point, but I won't let her die like that.

    Her nightmares are still bad too, but Sherry's going to be sleeping next to her, and I'm working on figuring out the sympathies to help. I'd do the same thing Sherry is while I am - I don't think Nycca would mind - but there are just so many other things I have to do... Most nights I've ended up falling asleep over my work, or laying down on the couch to wait for my head to clear because I can't see straight, and then finding out in the morning that the minute or two it was supposed to be ended up with my passing out for a few hours.

    Last edited by Lady Serpentine; 2012-08-05 at 05:36 AM.

  4. - Top - End - #184
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    Nycca Eat Nothing, Entries 3, −1, & 0
    (Nycca)
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    Entry III - seeing dead clients in my dreams
    It's been a while since I've felt like writing---about one and a half weeks, actually---so here's what's happened since then.
    Every night, Sherry would stay with me and try to calm me down when the dreams started up. It didn't take long for her to find out that this meant she ended up getting little to no sleep, but she kept at it even when I told her she didn't need to stress herself out like this... until a few days ago, when she nearly fell down the stairs because she couldn't keep awake, even standing up.

    Even then, Talina only got her to agree to stop by volunteering to take over herself... so for the past few days it's felt a little weird, though it's comforting to still have someone there when I wake up in the middle of the night, though when I find myself shivering in her lap I always feel smaller than normal---she's tall. It's both a little unsettling and kind of comforting, both in weird ways.
    I also started eating a little today, mostly because everyone seemed really disappointed that I wouldn't.
    I'm not giving up on this, though---I'm just going to have to wait a while.


    ---

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    Entry −I - sometimes you're taken places
    {Archivist's note: This entry is a recently-discovered and mostly-intact letter sent from Nycca (no surname on record) to an unknown relative or friend no more than one week before her enslavement. The letter never reached its intended recipient and was lost, incurring damage before it was found. Some damaged parts were repairable to the point that they're readable, but some parts are left ruined.}
    Dear [unreadable],

    It's nice having gotten to the city, finally, especially since I found a job so quickly---I'm working at this bar called Smokander, and it's pretty nice. I have to share a room and bed with another girl named Sherry, but since we work different shifts (early for her, late-night for me of course) it doesn't feel as cramped as it could. And hey, I have a place to stay and money to [rest of sentence unreadable]
    Some of the guys who come here are a little creepy, but when your bouncer is one of those [unreadable] golem things you don't get all that nervous.
    None of us have had to clean the back room yet, and that's the only weird thing... the manager always does it himself. Says it's [unreadable] and we girls have enough work already. Nice of him, just slightly odd.

    I'll be sure to come back and visit when I find the time, but for now I've got to focus on my work here.

    Love,
    Nycca [unreadable]


    ---

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    Entry 0 - bloody sheets in springtime
    {Archivist's note: This was recovered from the belongings of the girl referred to as "Lenia" in the first entry; in a moderately-damaged sketchbook (presumably Lenia's). Several folded scraps of paper were put between the pages of the sketchbook, and appear to be products of Nycca's distress during her enslavement, as well as other victims' writings (judging by content and handwriting)}
    guess it was too good to be tru after all
    i'm still sharing a room with sherry but there's no shifts, we mostly just wait and hope nobody comes
    but they do, usually send out the one that's not picked
    nice to have someone to lean on when it's over tho
    ~
    sherry lasted a few days before she just stopped smiling. after knowing her before this it just feels wrong not seeing her happy
    they took my tinted glasses so she keeps the lights dim most of the time she's in the room
    she visits next door a lot to see this girl marina, and she looks a little more okay when she does thats nice i guess
    ~
    good thing about getting hancuffed in this place, most of the cuffs are padded
    bad thing about getting cuffed YOU STILL GET CUFFD they have my wings bound already so yeah it's great to hav more muscles thatll get achy from tension
    not regretting it though, i got it caus i bit a guy for hitting marina
    hell even getting kicked was still worth it
    ~
    i bit another one they didn't care he had it coming
    said somethin abot "put the little bitch in the blindroom" i dont care
    sounds like a totally dark room, oh no it's not likemy eys are senstive an i got good nihtvision or anything
    oh wait i do
    ~
    {This particular note is severely crumpled and has exceptionally bad penmanship, but is still recognizable as Nycca's}
    NOT DARK
    BRIHT

    ~
    {The next two notes are not Nycca's, but appears to be that of another girl whose job it was to tend to Nycca in the "blind room"; the writer's specific identity is not certain, but may be Lenia.}
    i don't kno where they got all those photography lights for the blindroom
    but it's HOT in there hot an dry she's always getin nosbleeds
    evertime i go in ther to clean her up i have to scrub her face and chest down to get the stains off
    and the light THE LIGHT
    it's so bright i have to wer shades when i'm in there, i'm sure she's half-blinded now
    like permanent
    that healer lady's gonna go nuts about this when she comes back, wonder if i should show her the note nycca slipped me today

    ~
    i was rigt, talina (found out her name) nerly had a fit about it
    she took her out, put something in her eyes, bandagd them, said she couldn't work for a few days
    i think she even let her stretch her wings an hour or two gods bles er
    nycca won't eat though, i have to force her to eat an if she trys to cough it up i don't know what i'l do
    Last edited by Beans; 2012-08-04 at 11:43 AM.
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  5. - Top - End - #185
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    DoomITP's Avatar

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    Hey, everyone. For my own writing of characters on the FFRP area, the one thing that bothered me about my own was how little substance was given to one of my own character's back story. So I decided that I would put together a few entries. I hope you like em.

    The First
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    There was a deafening roar that ended as suddenly as it began. In the midst of all the noise a sharp flash of light as well as a thick burst of heat struck the young researcher as she stood, observing through a pair of binoculars a hundred feet or so away.

    The post explosion silence was broken by the groan of a young man who stumbled away from the site of the flash. He was clad in a gray uniform that had a thirteen point star on the left shoulder and a large black number one on the right shoulder.

    "Hello," the researcher called out as she lowered her binoculars, "my name is Juna. Are you alright?"

    The young man looked at Juna with a pair of blue eyes that seemed to glow slightly. He remained silent before collapsing where he stood.

    Juna rushed forward, dropping down to her knees to survey him for injury. Though there were no injuries on his person, there was on the inside of his left wrist, in what looked like black ink, another thirteen point star, similar in design to the one found on his coat.

    Once Juna was satisfied that he wasn't injured, she radioed her assistant who came to pick them both up.

    "Who's the guy?" The assistant called out as he lifted the young man into the back seat of the car.

    "I'm not sure," She responded as she sat in her own seat, "I was told that someone would appear here, tonight but not who. I suppose we will just have to ask him when he wakes up."

    The assistant silently nodded as he turned on the car and drove them both away.
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  6. - Top - End - #186
    Troll in the Playground
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    Sue Stonethrower
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    "Charlotta wants us to try again," Sue said.

    The words fell heavy on the tangled sheets and tangled limbs. Alice buried her face close against her lover, feeling his heartbeat which was now accelerated by more than physical exertion. When she finally answered, she tried to keep the heartbreak out of her voice.

    "What did you tell her?"


    "I said I didn't know how. She said she meant really try, for Lottie's sake." There was a hitch in his voice. "She said she'd ended things with Mortimer. I said I'd think about it."

    Alice crawled up so she could kiss him in the dark. The lights were off, so everything was simply by touch. "If she's willing to really try, then I think you should. You loved her once."

    "I love you now,"
    Sue said, tangling his hands in her hair. It shouldn't hurt so much to say those words, but his heart wasn't free. It had been wrapped in chains for years, tied to a woman he didn't love by a child that he adored.

    "I know," Alice said. She realized that she'd always known, though this was the first time he'd spoken the words. "You owe it to Lottie to at least try. A real try, without me."

    "I know."

    There was no sleep that night. They cried and they laughed and they loved as they celebrated everything they'd been to each other. And in the morning, they said goodbye.


    1

    The weeks that followed were a sort of slow torture for Delisle. She had control of the schedules, so she did her best to make sure she was never on the comm when Sue was on duty. It wasn't always possible. It wasn't always possible to avoid him in the Rec Centre or the Training Grounds or the Armoury. Whenever she saw him, it took all her strength not to stare, to devour him with her eyes, to watch to see if he stared at her and ached for her as much as she ached for him. It took every ounce of her strength.

    But she did it.

    For Sue, the weeks that followed were full of contradictions and capriciousness. Charlotta said she trusted him, but she asked him every day if he'd seen her. Sue told her the truth every day, and on the days he said 'yes' the grilling continued. How long had he seen her? Had they been alone together? Was she trying to get him back?

    He endured it all for Lottie's sake. She was so happy at seeing her parents together again that he couldn't walk away. And Charlotta really was trying. It wasn't fooling either of them, but they kept it up, day after day, pretending to be in love in the hopes that if they pretended long enough, it would come true. Keeping up the charade took up every ounce of his strength.

    But he did it.

    They all knew it couldn't last. Even Lottie knew in her own way, and she started anxiously monitoring her parents, making them gifts, trying to make them happy again.


    1

    The facade started to crack after Lottie's craft class started. Sue dropped her off on the first day, and a few of the parents went out to coffee together. One of the mothers had a lot of information about some dance classes that were starting soon, so Sue sat down with her and transcribed the class dates. He never noticed that she bore a superficial resemblance to Alice.

    "You were with her today!"

    "What?"
    Sue's dumbfounded look was taken as a sign of guilt.

    "Marisa saw you with her, at the coffee shop! You put Lottie in that class to make it easier to see her, didn't you?"


    Sue had no recourse against irrationality like that. He simply shook his head sadly and walked out.

    Charlotta apologized later, but the damage was done. It was getting harder and harder to make it work.


    1

    It ended with a crash. Of all the things that had ever put Sue in the infirmary, this was the most mundane. Someone ran a red light and plowed into his car after he'd dropped Lottie off for a birthday party. He was comatose for several days, and only in and out of consciousness for another few weeks. Sometimes when he opened his eyes, he saw Charlotta, and once he thought he saw Alice, but neither seemed real to him in his drugged state.

    "Lottie? Is she hurt?"
    he often asked. Charlotta had refused to bring Lottie to visit the hospital, convinced she shouldn't see her daddy in such a state.

    "She's fine. She wasn't even in the car," he was reminded often, by his doctors and nurses and visitors, but every day that passed without him seeing her convinced him otherwise.

    "You need to go to him,"
    Vasquez told Alice. "He'll believe it from you, if you tell him."

    Alice shook her head. "Me going will just make things worse."

    It was Jyarl who finally took matters into his own hands. He forged a permission note and picked up Lottie from school. Yeah, it was kidnapping, and he'd rip anyone limb from limb who tried it with Jefferies. But he'd also rip anyone limb from limb who kept him from seeing his daughter, so he figured it evened out.

    Lottie had been much more traumatized by not seeing Sue at all than by seeing him hooked up to tubes and covered with bandages. The visit did wonders for them both, however frightened and furious it had made Charlotta at the time. She was prepared to scream at Jyarl, but Lottie was hugging him goodbye and thanking him for taking him to see her Daddy and when Jyarl turned a thunderous glare to Charlotta, she quickly decided to drop it.


    1

    The day Sue left the hospital, Charlotta had news for him.

    "I'm pregnant,"
    she said.

    Sue didn't know how to feel. He knew he should be happy, but it felt like a lead weight in his gut, tying him down by more chains. But before he could register this, she had another blow for him.

    "It's not yours. You were so hurt, and Lottie was so scared, and it was all too much for me to handle alone." She looks down at her hands. "I'm leaving, Sue."


    There was a long silence. "What about Lottie?"

    "She needs you, Sue. We'll work something out."


    1

    Sue was ashamed to return to Alice, and she didn't know if he still cared for her. Vasquez let them act like idiots for a week, and then arranged for them to get "accidentally" locked together in the armoury.


    1

    The bride was beautiful in cream lace. The groom rather dapper in his gray tux. The flowergirl stole the show with her pretty blonde curls.

    Sue sat near the back to avoid blocking anyone's view as he watched Charlotta and Mortimer speak their vows. The family breakup hadn't been easy, and there were still times that Lottie wanted her parents back together, but she liked Alice and Mortimer, and she was thrilled that she was getting a baby brother or sister soon.

    When the bride kissed the groom, Sue put an arm around Alice and squeezed her tight. The chains had finally fallen from his heart, and he was free to love again.


    Last edited by happyturtle; 2012-08-04 at 11:44 PM.
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  7. - Top - End - #187
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    Dreams and Nightmares - Part 0: Thank you, please come again (Talina, Nycca)

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    Gods. I feel like finding someplace quiet and drinking hemlock, or something like it. Not that I will, because then no-one would look after the girls - the people here listen to me when I tell them they need to change something, maybe because I'm one of the few people willing to come here and help the girls without reporting them, and they're afraid I'll leave - but...

    I didn't come three days ago because the streets were flooded, and then I had other places where I was supposed to go help people until now, so I didn't get a chance to get back here until I would have anyway. And after all, it's not like anyone had anything that the instructions I'd left with the girls wouldn't cover, so in theory, it should have been fine.

    The thing is, they stuck Nycca into what they call the 'blind room'. The place is filled with photo lights; everything but the floor is covered with them, and they're left on permanently. And of course, her eyes are sensitive enough even to normal light, besides the fact that the damn things made it an oven, and got rid of pretty much any water in the air.

    I pulled her out, and got something that will hopefully repair at least the worst of the damage into her eyes, plus some painkillers and a potion to restore her fluid levels, since she was dehydrated as hell, then got the bindings off her wings, and sat with her until she managed to get to sleep (which didn't take all that long, as she'd barely been able to get any sleep in there), but she wouldn't be anywhere near as badly off if I'd gotten here as soon as the streets weren't flooded...

    I also want to take the one who ordered it, give him something to dilate his pupils, and shove him in there for a while, but I'm not going to do that, either, for the same reasons.

    I did throw a royal fit once she was out, though. Told them that if they put anyone - but especially her - in there again, I'd make sure whoever did it got something to make them impotent for the rest of their lives, so at least that shouldn't happen again. Though I'm going to start coming in every day now, instead of every three anyway.
    Last edited by Lady Serpentine; 2012-08-05 at 05:31 AM.

  8. - Top - End - #188
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    @Doomy: Your story is interesting, but I'm a little confused---I think the person in question is Grant, but it's honestly pretty vague. Then again, this is just the first part, so future chapters might be more clear; I just think it might have been good to have this first entry be a little clearer.

    @Happy: This may sound weird, but I'm honestly not the right person to review this story. I can tell there's lots going on among all the characters involved, but I have very little idea who any of them are (which is on my head anyway) and as such I'm not really able to appreciate what I'm sure is a great and touching story. Sorry.
    ---
    And here's my next entry in the D&N/NEN storyline.
    Nycca Eat Nothing, Entry #4
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    B]Entry IV - sehnsucht[/b]
    It's been a little more than 2 weeks since my last journal writing, and things are getting nice, I guess. The wing exercises were hard at first, and kind of painful, but it's felt worth it---which is something I can't remember feeling in a while.
    She says she'll find me somewhere to go flying if my health comes up, and it's hard to explain how tempting that is---I haven't flown since I came to the city, and it's the best way I've ever had to feel free from my troubles, at least a little while.

    It feels so weird looking at what I wrote before, though. Every time I look at my empty glass when I finish my nutrient drink, I feel conflicted. Part of me likes the way I'm not feeling exhausted all the time, the way I don't get aches from just walking around.
    The other part feels like I'm giving up on promises I made to myself.

    Should I be feeling like this for looking forward to something? Is it right to start wanting to live again?
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  9. - Top - End - #189
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    @ Beans: It's okay. The character arc started so long ago I doubt anyone even remembers it (or cares) other than me and Wolfy. I wrote the story for him as a sort of going away present because he wanted a happy ending for the characters, and we'd never seen a way to do it.

    For anyone interested:
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    Sue, a (male, giantkin) Mortal Coil soldier had been in a relationship with Charlotta for years. The love had ended long ago, but he stayed for little Lottie's sake. Even though she wasn't his biological daughter, he'd raised her from infancy and was the only father the little girl had ever known. Charlotta couldn't handle his military career, and started an affair with Mortimer (who never appeared onscreen.) Sue knew, but never confronted her.

    Meanwhile, the outwardly very straight-laced and reserved logistics officer Alice Delisle had been in love with Sue for some time. She let Sue know she was interested, and curtains fell after he'd had a particularly nasty fight with Charlotta. Alice knew he wouldn't leave Charlotta for her, since it would mean leaving Lottie. There was always the fear that Charlotta would use legal means to block his access to Lottie.

    So for maybe... idunno, a year or so of RL time?... Sue and Alice have been having an affair while he tried to keep things from falling irretrievably apart with Charlotta.

    It was an attempt to write a couple where all of the conflict in the relationship was from mundane things rather than anything supernatural (i.e. "I can't be with you because I hunger for your soul / I'm still suffering the psychological scars of having my sapience removed / I'd lose the blessing of my goddess, etc.") and I'm not sure it was very successful. But Sue deserved a happy ending and I was glad I had the inspiration to write that story in time for Wolfy to read it before he left.

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  10. - Top - End - #190
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    The Dawn
    Calvin Witt

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    The dawn had often been seen as a symbol of hope and new beginnings. A symbol of powerful houses and regions through the ages. But to Calvin it hurt. Dawn brought the sun which burned his eyes that hadn't seen it in over a year. Dawn took away his shield of darkness that hid him from the monsters hunting him.

    He heard them crashing through the forest behind him. They had been chasing him ever since he had been shoved out of the cavernous tunnels that he had been living in. The order that housed and trained him there had decided to test him in this new environment. He had been chased from the deeper and darker parts of the woods into the meadows with less cover. So far he had eluded whatever was chasing him. As a matter of fact he hadn't even spotted what was following him.

    It seemed like he was being herded somewhere. Every time he tried to double back to more familiar territory he heard them moving around him, or felt their eyes watching him. So he ran, barefooted through the woods, which was a pleasure after a year of walking on stone floors. If it wasn't for the fear of being hunted he might even enjoy it, like a normal 9 year old boy.

    Reaching the edge of a large meadow Calvin crouches low and his eyes sweep across it, he senses the trap laid for him. Squinting into the sun he can't see anything that would look like a trap, but he feels uneasy and that is enough for him to not want to head forward. He had been taught to trust his instincts.

    Then there it was, a man, dressed like a beast, a cruel looking demon mask, sharp metal claws, animal skins and furs. How he had managed to sneak up so close with Calvin hearing him was impressive. The metal claws lash out and Calvin dives away catching only a scratch on his left side. He scrambles a few feet backwards into the meadow. The man growls and lunges again Calvin scrambles to her feet and leaps forward scratching and clawing at the mask covering the mans face.

    The man easily throws Calvin off of him into a near by tree stunning the young boy. Two more figures wearing red demon masks rise up out of their hiding spots in the meadow and move to flank the other figure, all watching the boy rise to his feet and face the three men in front of him. He knows he is done running he has to try to fight, even though one of these men weighs more then three times him. He grabs a large branch from the ground and charges them.

    The fight is brutal and fast. One of the men has a broken knee, another lost his mask and part of his ear, the third was stabbed by the firsts sharp claws in the thigh and is still bleeding from the wound. Calvin is in worse shape. Several cuts and punctures from the claws bleeding, a swollen shut eye, and a head wound from hitting the ground. He is also pinned under one of the men who pulls out a long sharp looking piece of metal. The other two hold him down his arms, Calvin remembers the sun shining off the metal in the man's hand. Then he just remembered screaming.


    @Happy: Thanks for the feedback Happy. Yeah the second part I felt was weaker. I sort of rushed through it to get it done I think. It might make since in my head, but necessarily when I type it up. Might rewrite it sometime to clear it up.

    I really enjoyed Second Chance as well. I picked up on pretty much what was going on in it without too much trouble. I will admit I though Sue was Female for way to long into this story. Sometimes my reading comprehension can suck. I liked the jumps through time that gave it the real sense of it taking a long time to really have the relationship grow into something special.
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    The stars glimmer
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    Do they cry on those worlds,
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  11. - Top - End - #191
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    *pops in for just a moment from away-ness to toss in a story*

    Final Rites - Trisha

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    “We are His axe upon this world.”
    The leading knight prayed as he knelt in front of all those who followed him, looking up at the figure of a Green Knight at the front of the chapel. He ignored the sounds of the steam cannons blasting at the walls of the Keep, choosing to continue in his sacred duty instead. “It is in the name of the Green Knight that the Verdant Order shall sweep across the heretic planes, testing the humility of all those that oppose us and striking down any of those fail even as we test ourselves. It is in our knowledge that our blades and bodies shall pave the path for The Green Knight and Sir Gwain, costing many their lives, yet we refuse to turn away from our sacred task.”

    He reaches up for a moment to adjust the green garter that wrapped his neck, the symbol of his office as Verdant Lord, leader of this chapter of the Order, before opening his mouth to speak once more. Before he can though, a pale-skinned woman kneels down next to him and speaks in his stead. It would normally be considered a terrible insult and breach of conduct, but her words spoke of true belief even if all present knew she served a different Calling. “We refuse to turn away from our Path as it is the Trial that had been offered to each and every one of us.” Trisha, Champion of Hate, said reverently. “Upon taking the task, all of us understood that we will fail for there is no success. At our core, every one of us is human and has faults and we realize there is no such thing as a perfect being. But upon the day that I fall, giving into the humanity within me, I will be able to kneel before the Green Knight and his Servant, smiling and bowing my head to them in respect as the Knight swings down his axe to sever me from my mortal shell.” Her calm voice intones; reaching into the core of each of the knights left standing after the hard battles of the past month.

    “I will be able to bow my head, proud that I have served them both to the utmost of my ability, welcoming the peace that Death’s axe will bring as it frees me from my humanity, purifying my spoiled soul.”

    The Verdant Lord bows his head at the end of the prayer. “In Their names, we welcome death.”

    “We welcome death.”
    The knights gathered say in turn, ending their prayers.

    Trisha gets up to her knees and gives the knights a nod as she and the Verdant Lord walk side by side to the open door of the Keep in time to see the first of the Cog Syndicate’s clanks breach the walls. Her blue eyes begin to turn black as she draws a glowing blade from her back. “For Death and Hate!!” She shouts!”

    “For Death and Hate!”
    The Verdant Lord shouts as he draws his own broadsword before the pair of them lead the charge against the overwhelming forces, the powers of their Faith infusing their souls.

  12. - Top - End - #192
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    Patient 413 - Dr. Stroffelnburg, Titular Character Who I'd Rather Not Name-Drop Right Away. Oh, and this is Non-Canon

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    Dr. Stroffelnburg's hands shook and trembled as his next patient was wheeled in. Blasted nerves, showing such blatant disregard for logic and common sense. As much as he protested against such ridiculousness, there was simply no escaping it. Every precaution had already been taken, and yet his hands still shook. Drugs had been administered, orderlies were standing by on both ends of the room, and every inch of the next subject had been bound and secured behind thick leather bindings, a la Hannibal Lecter. None of that did anything to quell the instinctive fear, the irksome dread rattling the good doctor at his very core. Dr. Stroffelnburg was afraid of Patient 413, wholeheartedly terrified by the man, and he absolutely despised himself for it.

    "Good evening, Patient 413. This is our...third interview, yes? Since your arrival upon the island. As per our usual arrangement, your muzzle is being removed, and you are free to speak of absolutely anything that might be on your mind."

    Silence, the usual response from Patient 413. Brown, beady little eyes glared at the good doctor, cutting into him with icy spears of contempt. The most hateful stare Patient 413 could throw at Doctor Stroffelnburg, because literally stabbing at the old man just wasn't an option right now. You didn't need to ask, you could tell just from looking into those eyes what Patient 413 wanted to do.

    Just as well, of course, because Patient 413 would never speak. You see, whereas most men with the Nexus sickness thought themselves dragons, cyborgs, wizards, or the like, Patient 413 had an especially bizarre self-image. Though there had been a great many strange cases in these white halls, never once had Stroffelnburg encountered one quite like this. The kind of mind it must take to convince oneself that they are a mute, pumpkin-headed magical murder golem in an expensive Italian three-piece suit...Patient 413, or 'What Pumpkin,' as they called him back in the Nexus, was absolutely the most delusional and psychotic individual Dr. Stroffelnburg had ever met.

    "It may interest you to know we ran a few tests during the periods you've been under sedation, Patient 413. Minor health examinations, nothing more. Your bloodtype, B Negative. Height is five foot and seven inches, our ophthalmologist confirms that your vision is a perfect 20/20, and your shoe size is a nine point five. Weight is slightly below where it should be though we've been working to help you with that, and...oh, there's one more thing I'm forgetting, what could it-oh yes, YOU ARE NOT A ****ING PUMPKIN!"

    It wasn't often that Dr. Stroffelnburg raised his voice when speaking to a patient, but it wasn't very often he'd go this long without making any progress on a patient, either. His therapeutic skills were unrivaled in these parts of the world, and even should those fail him, the drugs administered both orally and via injection should have been more than enough to make What Pumpkin more open to suggestion.

    "Your vocal cords are fine, lungs are as healthy as can be according to the X-rays, and I know you can understand me, because every time we've allowed you a notepad, you-"

    Stroffelnburg finally catches himself. He stops, notices he'd risen out of his chair at some point during that impassioned scolding, and promptly falls back into his seat with a sigh. The subject just continues to glare with those beady brown eyes, expression as rigid as stone. As a pumpkin, Stroffelnburg thinks to himself, before chiding himself for entertaining such childish fantasies. For a moment, the two men know nothing but the blackest of hate for one another, before our doctor remembers his mission.

    "Mister What, or Mister Pumpkin, or...or whatever your real name actually is, we can help you. But we can only do that if you're willing to work with us. I know you're scared, after killing as many people as you have I'm sure anyone would fear for their soul. But we can help rehabilitate you. If only you speak up, we can guarantee that you don't spend the rest of your days in a padded cell. I firmly believe anyone, Patient 413, that anyone can be cured of their Nexus madness with enough time and effort, but to start on that road, you need to take the first step. You have to admit you are wrong about these pumpkin things, and speak."


    Silence again. Of course, Stroffelnburg hadn't really expected anything else. He'd hoped, sure, and prayed, certainly, for this unrepentant mass-murderer to see the light. For now, however, it seemed that day would never come. With a heavy heart, the good doctor clears his throat, preparing to command the orderlies to take Patient 413 away. His lips part for only a moment, dancing just on the edge of that first syllable, when something strange happens.

    "Hate," says Patient 413, in a voice barely above a whisper. And then again, louder, with more bile and animosity in it than even the worst of his glares.

    "Hate."


    Comments, explanations, etc. to come in later edit or something.
    Last edited by Lord Magtok; 2012-08-13 at 01:26 PM.
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  13. - Top - End - #193
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    Made me laugh. A little creepy. Dr. S is so going to get a pen jabbed through his head somehow.

    It's like treating the Joker though. A terrible idea at the best of times. ._.
    Last edited by Reinholdt; 2012-08-12 at 09:17 PM.
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  14. - Top - End - #194
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    Patient 413, Part 2

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    I took about four weeks for Stroffelnburg to recover from the events of his third interview with Patient 413. Part of the problem was that he was very much afraid of What Pumpkin, and loathed to step in front of those merciless, cold, empty little eyes. Most of the problem, however, is probably the huge chunk of nose that Patient 413 bit off of Stroffelnburg's face.

    You see, the good doctor was just so sure he'd finally hit a breakthrough when 413 spoke. He was just so ecstatic and pleased with himself, he'd completely let his guard down. Forgetting all too quickly just how dangerous the reports said that What Pumpkin could be, he stood up out of his chair with a smile beaming all about his face, leeeeeaned in towards What in case he had anything else to say, and then-

    ...Well, I'm pretty sure you can figure out what happened next. The orderlies flew into a panic the moment blood shot up into the air, rushing to subdue the patient. Unfortunately, the shock of their stun batons only served to make Patient 413 instinctively clench his teeth even tighter. Very soon afterwards, Stroffelnburg found himself feeling exceptionally grateful that the island facility was equipped with such state-of-the-art medical technology. His nose would never be quite the same again, but at least they staunched the bleeding before the doctor could...well, you know.

    Meanwhile, as Stroffelnburg spent a month or so having his schnoz rebuilt, the orderlies set about reinventing the solitary confinement protocols that were in place for Paient 413. His security escort around the facility tripled in size. Stun batons were replaced with riot shotguns filled with non-lethal rubber slugs (the Patient supposedly refused to use guns). When they weren't pumping enough drugs into both his food and injections to get an elephant drunk, they were experimenting with all kinds of straitjackets, manacles, handcuffs, blindfolds, ball-and-chains, and any other restraining devices you care to think of, trying to find a combination so potent, even Mr. Nosebiter wouldn't be able to pull a fast one on any of them ever again.

    Long story short, 413 outmaneuvered them all again anyway.



    Explanation Owed To Everyone: This is Stroffelnburg. This is what used to be his Psychiatric Hospital. What wasn't around when all of this stuff happened, but if he was, this story is my best guess as to what might've occurred instead.

    Anyways, Part 2 is a little short, mostly because I owe Jacklu a post in the MagCave right now, and also because I just made it up as I went along, instead of tinkering with it in a Word document for a day or so until everything was just right.

    Oh, and on an unrelated note, everything Happy and Wolfy write in this thread is gold. *Skedaddles to go post now*
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  15. - Top - End - #195
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    Jyarl / Jefferies / Missy
    Part 4: Tumbling Down

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    Alice Delisle read the letter three times, the disbelief fading into a growing sense of sick dread. Not trusting her voice at this moment, she texted the message. "Come by my office when you get a chance. - Delisle"

    The sick feeling lasted most of the day, and only got worse when Jyarl finally arrived. "What is it?"

    "Close the door, please. And take a seat," she said. Jyarl did so, clearly puzzled, but waited for her to begin.

    "It's about the adoption. It's been six months, so I sent off the application for it to be finalized. I thought it would be a fairly routine matter, but I was mistaken. They want to do some interviews first, with you and Jefferies."

    "This is just a formality, right?" Jyarl asked. "They just need to see she's happy and healthy and that I'm not mistreating her, and that'll be it?"

    Delisle met his eyes. "Jyarl, they've raised some concerns. I don't think it's likely that they'll reject you. But... it's possible."

    Jyarl just stared at her for a moment, before he said in an deceptively calm voice, "Concerns?"

    "There are some questions about your past. Enough testimonials on your behalf - and I will bother Vas on her vacation for this - should take care of that. But the other issue is the species thing. Apparently there is a wish that children should be raised by same-species parents wherever possible."

    "****ing hells, Delisle! She was practically feral when I took her in! All her ribs were showing and she had signs of rickets! Now she's happy and healthy and able to be around other children, and knows she's a person and not a ****ing greenie! For Throne sake, I gave up my House for her! What more do they want?" Jyarl had gotten to his feet, shouting at her.

    "I know, Jyarl. And I'll say all that, every bit. Bugs will write a report on your behalf for the health stuff - physical and mental. We all know you've been a good father to her, and that--"

    "THEY WANT TO TAKE MY DAUGHTER AWAY FROM ME!" Jyarl roars.

    Delisle decided not to respond. He was angry - he had every right to be angry - but nothing could be done until he'd spent his rage and was able to listen.

    Then suddenly he was calm again - too suddenly. Delisle realized his implant must have dispensed something that calmed him. Did he control it, or had that happened automatically? She didn't know enough about how it worked to say.

    "Tell me what I need to do to keep Jefferies."

    ***

    Jyarl had made five different plans. Two different plans for running away with Jefferies, one plan to use blackmail, and one involving taking hostages. If he'd still had access to House funds, bribery would have been on the table too. But of course the plan that was best for everyone, especially Jefferies, was to convince the social workers to approve the adoption.

    "We're going to meet some grownups today who are going to talk to you and ask you a lot of questions," Jyarl said to Jefferies, while Missy braided her hair. "I want you to answer them truthfully, but if they ask you anything you don't want to answer, you don't have to."

    They were trying to hide their worry, but of course she picked up on it. "Can you come wif me, Daddy?"

    "Me and Missy will be in the next room. Very close. But I know you're brave and smart enough to answer the questions without me."

    "Are dey hard questions? Like how to read?"

    Missy shook her head. "No, they already know about how well you do at school, and how smart you are with numbers. They'll ask you questions you know the answers to."

    "Can Master Chief come wif me?"

    "Sure thing, slugger. She can even help you answer questions if you want."

    They'd discussed whether to coach her answers, and decided that anything Jefferies said from the heart would be more convincing.

    "Why are dey asking me stuff?"

    This was the question they had dreaded, and had decided on an answer that would best satisfy Jefferies without giving her a hint of what might be at stake.

    "Their tribe boss said they had to. They aren't Remnants tribe, but they want to be friends." By agreement, it was Missy who had to say this, as Jyarl couldn't bring himself to speak the last part without growling.

    "Oh." Jefferies said. "I be nice to dem den."

    ***

    The three of them walked hand in hand from the Riftline, the two adults occasionally swinging Jefferies off the ground between them to make her laugh. At the social welfare office, they were introduced to the three social workers making the decision. They were Aliswyn, a female elf; Kardo, a male goblin; and Nurmi, a male human. As they took Jefferies into the interview room, Missy's neural net transmitted their faces to Remnant's database.

    When the result came back, it took all her cybernetically imposed self-control to keep her expression neutral. Jyarl would have to be told, but not here. Not now. Not while Jefferies was in this building.

    Missy intended that the three of them would be safely home before she told him that Nurmi was in Remnant's records as a known sympathiser of the human supremacist movement.

    Last edited by happyturtle; 2012-08-13 at 07:52 PM.
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  16. - Top - End - #196
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    It's a pretty good thing remnant has more than enough clout to keep Jeffries with Jyarl.

    And on the off chance that doesn't work, at least Jyarl had planned for running away.

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  17. - Top - End - #197
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    That's the flaw in the story premise. Remnant is tasked with enforcing the laws, and theoretically can break the law with impunity. Sort of have to squint and imagine a lot of political infrastructure that isn't actually there onscreen for the story to work. >.>
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  18. - Top - End - #198
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    Jyarl / Jefferies / Missy
    Part 5: Figuring Out

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    Jefferies knew this meeting was Very Important. She could tell by how Daddy was holding his mouth tight, and how Missy was extra calm. So she held her chin high and walked into the room with the three grownups, squeezing her plush beargon Master Chief in both arms. This was a sneaky kind of test, Jefferies knew, and she'd have to pay very careful attention to know how to win at it.

    "Go ahead and sit down here, Jefferies,"
    the goblin said. "We have some juice and cookies for you." Jefferies knew goblins at Remnant, and more at school, and his ears said he was friendly. So she climbed into the big soft chair that the goblin pointed to and sipped at the juice box. She felt like she was supposed to remember something, and after asking Master Chief, she remembered.

    "Thank you, Mister Kardo," she said to him. Kardo smiled at her - Jefferies knew he was using a human smile by his ears, and not baring his fangs to her, so she grinned back.

    She looked to the other two grownups, and her grin faded. The elf lady looked very serious and a little scary. But the human man was looking at her in a way that made her feel worried and bad at the same time.

    Jefferies had to remind Master Chief that Daddy was in the next room, and if the human man, Mister Nurmi, started to hit her, she could punch him between his legs and scream really loud. That made Master Chief feel a little bit braver. But only a little bit. Jefferies fidgeted while she waited for the questions to begin.

    "Do you like living with Jyarl?" the elf lady, Miss Aliswyn, asked.

    Good! This was an easy question. "Mhm. He is big and strong and keeps me safe and neber hits me and der is lots of food."

    "Do you like it better than where you lived before?"

    "If I try to 'member before, it hurts here," Jefferies said, indicating a spot on her head. "I like living wif Daddy, and being a Remnants."

    "Does he give you rules to follow?" Kardo asked.

    "Mhm." Jefferies starts ticking them off on her fingers. "No eating dogs or people. Orcs is people. Dun hit people unless they hit first. Dun break tings. Dun bite Gorgutz. If I get mad, hit de punching bag. If somebody touch me where my underwear is or try to hurted me, I hit dem and scream really loud. I has to go to bed when Daddy says." She squeezes her beargon harder. "I forgetted if der are more. But if I forgetted, Daddy tells me."

    "What happens if you break the rules?"


    "I has to go to time-out or sometimes I lose minutes of boxing."


    "Why do you call Jyarl Daddy?"
    Mister Nurmi asked.

    The worried-bad feeling got even stronger, but Master Chief reminded Jefferies to be brave. So she looked directly at the human when she answered. "Because him my Daddy."

    "Did he tell you to call him Daddy?"


    "Nuh-uh. I figured it out my own self,"
    Jefferies says, straightening a little. She's proud of this, and sneaks a glance at Mister Kardo to make sure he's listening. "Cause I had a mommy and daddy one time, but dey was orcs, and dey died in the fire. I dun remember dem, but I knowed dey are dead. And so I thoughted I couldn't has another mommy or daddy. But den Lottie telled me about how she got a doption, and it made Mr Stonethrower into her daddy. And den I remembered hearing Jyarl talking to Missy about a doption, and I knowed then that Jyarl would give me a doption and be my daddy. So I started to call him daddy and it maded him happy."

    "But wouldn't you rather have a Daddy who is an orc, like you?" Mister Nurmi asked.

    "No."

    "What's wrong with orcs?"

    "Nothing's wrong with orcs! Orcs is just as good as humans. I know dat, because Jyarl says so. I didn't know orcs was people before, but Daddy said dey is."

    "Then why wouldn't you want to live with orcs?" His voice was nice, but it was pretend-nice. She didn't know how she knew that, but she knew, and she shrunk a little and squeezed Master Chief tighter. Pretend-nice people were scarier than people who were all the way mean. So she figured out the first part of this test. Dis was the guy she had to beat.

    "Because dey isn't Jyarl. Jyarl is my Daddy and I live wif him."

    She looked at Mister Kardo, and his ears still said he was friendly. Then she looked at Miss Aliswyn. She was still very serious, but Jefferies thought she was the kind of grownup who did time out for bad kids instead of hitting them. Jefferies hated time out, but she wasn't scared of it.

    But what if the mean human tries to hit you while you are in time out? Master Chief asked. And Jefferies didn't know the answer. She wasn't supposed to do anything in time out, so she probably wasn't supposed to hit and scream if she was there. And that would mean she would lose the test.

    "Tell us about Missy," Miss Aliswyn asked

    "Missy is the lady who came wif us. She helps to take care of me and teach me stuff and she helps me wif my hair and to buy dresses. And she gived me Master Chief."
    Jefferies held up her plush beargon and made her wave at Kardo. "And sometimes she kisses Daddy when dey think I is asleep."

    Kardo chuckled. "Do any other ladies kiss Daddy?"

    Jefferies shook her head. "No. Sometimes Dizzy comes over and sometimes Tracey and sometimes Charity, but none of them kiss Daddy. Only Missy does dat. Sometimes when Daddy has to go and fight bad guys udder Remnants stay at night, but dey sleep in the guess room. Not Daddy's room. Only Missy sleeps der. Or sometimes me when I has nightmares."

    "Do you like Missy?"


    Jefferies nodded. "I wished she would give me a doption and be my mommy, but maybe doptions are only for getting daddys. I asked Lottie but she didn't know."

    "Does Jyarl ever do anything you don't like?" Miss Aliswyn asked.

    Jefferies knew this one. "Mhm. He makes me eat veshtables. I dun like dem, but if I dun eat dem, I not allowed to eat ice cream. I hate veshtables! Acept for corn on the cob. I like dat one."

    The human leaned forward, and Jefferies started to feel worried-bad again. "What kind of nightmares do you have?"

    Jefferies shrunk back in the chair completely, hugging her knees and squeezing Master Chief between her legs and body. "I has nightmares dat der might be a fire and dat Jyarl dies and dat I forget him. I dun want to forget him."

    She didn't want to cry in front of Mister Nurmi and Miss Aliswyn. She wouldn't! That's when Master Chief reminded her of what Daddy had said - that she didn't have to answer any questions she didn't like. That's how she would beat Mister Nurmi and win the test. "I dun want to talk to you anymore. I want my Daddy!"


    Last edited by happyturtle; 2012-08-16 at 01:12 PM.
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  19. - Top - End - #199
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    It's worth mentioning even with out suspending my "Remnant Clout" belief, that was still really tense.

    Jefferies might be one of my favorite things to read. I love everything about her. Attitude, her dialect, how she interacts with people, all of it.

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  20. - Top - End - #200
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    *waves from hospital as I help my sister after her baby arriving*

    Wrote this a couple nights ago. Working on others when I find the time.

    The First Night - Vita/Rugal

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    That first night, when Vita had fallen asleep in his arms, Rugal couldn’t help but continue to be awake, looking at the innocent blond woman that was curled up with him. The V’traani couldn’t help but smile slightly at her as he reached over to stroke her cheek and hair lovingly. So much like them… He thinks to himself as buried memories swelled up within him. So much, but so very different too. The Matriarchs would have loved her.

    The thought of the leaders of the Castes of his home city getting involved with a celibate priestess nearly made him laugh, but he was able to restrain himself to a smile in an effort to keep the noise down so Vita could remain asleep. As one of the few males of his species, and as one of the even rarer Seer Caste, he had originally been the consort to each of the Matriarchs at least a few times each. It’d been his duty, like that of every male, to see to it that the race would continue. In a harsh Deathworld like his home, he really hadn’t had much of a choice even if he had been somewhat disinclined to be used as a member of the Breeder Caste.

    The thought of how it had been made him chuckle quietly before he leaned over to kiss his betrothed’s forehead. The happy little sigh she gave in her sleep made his heart melt and he couldn’t help but run his rough hand over her shoulder gently. If Matron-Warrior Elizaan could see me now… He thinks with an amused mental tone. The Matriarch of the Warrior Caste had been quite the powerful and forward woman, but she had seen it as her job to help nurture Rugal into the sage he had wished to be. For all her physical prowess, brash attitude, and zealous nature, Elizaan had been rather gentle and understanding. It was something of a peculiar trait for one of the Warrior Caste who were generally given over to bloodlust and barbarism. She was undoubtedly long gone by now, but he had no doubt that she’d laugh at his circumstances. She’d mock that he’d agreed to waiting thirteen years to be with a woman, and probably take offense that he’d wish to do so for a Soft Skin. He’d just look up at the Matriarch, smile slyly and shake his head before leaving her.

    Somehow, he knew that Vita was worth it.

    For all his five centuries of life, Vita was the first young woman he’d seen for a long time that took a vow this seriously. As he looked over her sleeping form, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Being a follower of both Slaanesh and his race’s own goddess, Eclipsia, chastity was almost akin to blasphemy. And for a young woman like Vita, having taken a Vow that was reinforced by the powers of her own Goddess…

    It wasn’t something he could understand with ease, nor was it something he’d wish upon those who he hated. It was in his opinion that one should be able to partake of the pleasures of life.

    You could have her. She wishes for you to take her and lay claim, showing her how to fully enjoy herself. She’d love you for it and you know it.
    A dark little voice in his head and heart told the Seer. That is exactly what I am worried about and why I won’t do such a thing. After finding Slaanesh, Rugal had committed unnumbered atrocities and sins for his gods. He could see the faces of each of his victims, of the people he had cheated, defiled, manipulated, or murdered. People were so weak-minded when one could introduce them to new pleasures. Even Elizaan hadn’t been able to resist his efforts for long. Vita however…

    He wouldn’t be able to bring himself to do such a thing to her. Never. Having such a bright ray of innocence in his life made him feel like his old self once again and he wasn’t willing to give it up. Even if it took thirteen years to get her fully into his life, he was hoping she’d stay. Taking in a deep breath, he leans forward to give the back of her neck a soft kiss before opening his third eye, the mark of being a Seer.

    At first, he sees her body heat through thermal vision, but with a bit of focus, it shifts to a Sight much more powerful. His lips form into a soft smile as the pale white flame of Vita’s soul dances before his eyes, full of hope and devotion and blessed innocence to most of the ways of the world. Yes, thirteen years would be quite the long time, but with the vision of innocence playing before his eyes, thirteen years of waiting was hardly anything to pay to have that part of his life back.


    For those who don't know, Rugal is one of my V'traani. To put it simply, they are a matriarchal tribal society where only 1 in 20 are born male and they gain strengths through ritual cannibalism and devouring of honored foes and prey. There's a lot more to it, but that's the base of it.

  21. - Top - End - #201
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    Showtime- Cassius Godlark

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    Cassius couldn't help but feel a cringe of fear as he stood at the back of the rest of the Penal Company, watching as they went through the so-called "Confidence Course" one by one. It was a half mile long obstacle course filled with walls, razor wire, pits full of spikes or mud, and even electrical fencing. The worst part was far from the potentially lethal hazards that riddled the course however; it was from the "Valkyries" that were Jyarl's officers that would take potshots at anyone moving too slow through any of it. Sure, they never did more than graze a bullet, but the thought of them missing their mark was more than enough to drive most of the Legionnaires to make haste.

    As this was Cassius' first time, the threat Jyarl had said about the Valkyries made him more than a little nervous. No fear. Cassius tells himself, running his hand over his smooth cranium. He could have looked like his "hero" self, all muscular, blond, handsome, and suave, but he didn't believe that he deserved that after what he did. No hero would murder four people like that.

    Penance had to be done first.

    Despite the fear, Cassius watched as the other convicts ran the course ahead of him, paying close attention to the more experienced ones and where they put their hands or feet when they climbed. One in particular seemed especially good at it, much to his distaste. Leah Loveman was yet another of the damnable Human Supremacists and had made her hate for him quite clear on their first night there. Cassius was thankful for Halifax's warning about her, especially after he saw the deadly glint in Leah's eyes.

    He hadn't slept that night, choosing to keep up instead to watch his back. He'd have to be wary around her.

    She was by far the quickest and most experienced, and proved it when she completed the course well under the standard time. With a glance up at the watchtower, Cassius could see Jyarl nod and write down the time. When he looked back, the son of Magtok could see Leah give him a proud sneer, daring him to beat her.

    Setting his jaw, Cassius walked up to the line, knelt down slightly, and decided to do just that. As my father would likely say...Go Big or Go Home.

    With the bark of Jyarl's pistol, Cassius darted forward at more than human speed as he headed towards the first eight foot timber wall. He thanked his mother for the enhancements she had built into his body, and with a bit more tweaking, he thanked his father as well for his gift of shapeshifting.

    As he slammed into the wall, forcing the chitin wedge of sledgehammer into a seam in the boards, a quote popped up in his head, even though he couldn't remember what it was from.

    The quickest way to get through an obstacle is to get through it. Never around or over.

    The cracking of the boards as they busted apart, the wall collapsing behind him as he continued through the course at his high speed, couldn't keep his laughter from being heard. Looking ahead, he saw the ten meters of razorwire he was supposed to crawl under, and soon enough the hammer switched to a long razored blade.

    I am Cassius Godlark and I will NOT be cowed into compliance!



    1

    Up in the watchtower, Jyarl allowed a small smirk to come to his lips, amused at the destruction of the course. Maybe Cassius would get through three inches of hardened steel that was the core of the last "wooden" wall.

    Maybe, but he doubted it.

  22. - Top - End - #202
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    Jyarl / Jefferies / Missy
    Part 6: Listening In

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    They'd thought of planting a transmitter on Jefferies, but decided that was too risky. Instead, Missy had gotten an upgrade to improve her already enhanced hearing. If the room had been soundproofed, it wouldn't have worked, so it was a gamble, but it had paid off. Missy heard every word, and her neural net held a recording she could play for Jyarl later.

    Another 'later'. ugh. It felt wrong that she had so much data that she couldn't safely share with Jyarl. His cybernetics didn't have a data receiver built in, so she couldn't just zap the info to him. Besides, Jyarl didn't have the fine muscle control enhancements that allowed Missy to listen without betraying any sign that she knew what was going on. Prophet knew he didn't have the natural self-control. So everything had to wait until they got back to base, which meant Jyarl would be going into his own interview without it.

    After reading through Tauno Nurmi's entry on the Remnant database, Missy was both relieved and disappointed. He didn't seem to have any criminal record or any history of violence, which meant that Jefferies probably wasn't in any immediate danger. But it also meant there wasn't anything they could use against him. It wasn't a crime to frequent a humans-only restaurant, or to be on speaking terms with Brian Starling.

    At least Jefferies sounded like she was handling the situation well. If they'd told her there was a possibility that she'd be taken from her Daddy... but no. There was no possibility of that. The only possibility was that they might all have to leave the city and Remnant. That would hurt, but Jefferies would still have--

    Missy's train of thought abruptly derailed.

    Jefferies wants me to be her mommy.

    Jefferies wants me to be her mommy.

    Jyarl, fully alert and wound tight with tension, noticed Missy giving the barest squeeze of his hand. "What is it?"

    Missy pulled his hand up to quickly kiss it. "It's fine. I'm sure she's doing well." He'd know that meant 'I can tell she's doing well'.

    He put his arm around her. "I've been thinking. You should go ahead and take her home while I'm being interviewed. It might be a while, and she'll need a nap after this."

    "Mhm. That's probably a good idea."
    Also bull****. After a socially trying event like this interview, their girl would need physical exertion to burn off her pent up energy, as Jyarl well knew. So this was code for 'I want her to not be here', even though the adoption decision wasn't due for another week.

    Missy had to put her eavesdropping on record only mode so she could listen to Jyarl, but the sound of Jefferies calling for her Daddy was loud enough to be heard by unenhanced ears. Jyarl and Missy were instantly on their feet. Before they reached the door, Kardo had opened it.

    "Go ahead, mushroom," he said in a kindly tone, and Jefferies marched out defiantly, with only the tiniest chin wobble to tell Missy that she was close to crying.

    "Our interview hasn't been completed," Nurmi said. "We can give her a short break but then we need to go back in."

    Jyarl scooped Jefferies up in his arms, and glared at Nurmi. Missy put a hand on his arm, which stopped him before he swore at the man.

    "I don't believe that's necessary. We've heard enough from Jefferies, wouldn't you agree, Kardo?"
    Aliswyn said.

    "Certainly," Kardo said. "A break before we speak to Mr Olear- Mr Hellstomper would be nice though. Perhaps an early lunch? Shall we reconvene in an hour?"

    Everyone agreed, though Missy thought Nurmi's agreement was rather perfunctory. It was clear he was set against Jyarl's adoption, and interviewing him while Jyarl was unsettled and angry about Jefferies' distress would have helped that cause.

    "Can we go home?" Jefferies asked.

    "Sure thing, slugger." Jyarl said.

    As they left the building, Jefferies and Master Chief told Daddy that Mister Kardo was nice and gave her some juice, but it wasn't orange juice. She thoughted maybe it was apple juice...

    Missy kept her focus on the social workers behind them for as long as her enhanced hearing let her, but she didn't learn anything useful. Kardo was flirting with the receptionist and offering to bring her some lunch. Nurmi was pacing a few rooms away, and occasionally speaking to Aliswyn, who generally didn't respond or made non-committal replies.

    They boarded the Riftline, and Jefferies pressed close to the window as the city sped by. "Anything I should know?" Jyarl said quietly to Missy.

    "It could go either way. The elf is the swing vote, and I don't know how she'll swing," Missy said. "Kardo seems to be on our side."

    "And the human?"

    Missy shook her head. "Focus on the other two. He's a lost cause."

    Jefferies squealed as the train went past a flock of flying sheep, and Jyarl smiled at her excitement.

    "Just talk about Jefferies. As long as you do that, no one can doubt you're her dad."
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  23. - Top - End - #203
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    Not sure if anyone cares, but my motivation to write the last part of Rise of the Prophet is pretty much gone. I might pick it up later, or I might not. Writing anything else is equally unlikely.
    Instead, I'll offer some comments. Not to everyone, I'm afraid, so I used an entirely objective criterium (i.e. what I felt like) to pick them.

    @ New Location Discovered: Amusing. Inside being what it is, finding an abandoned building that still has power and water isn't too hard. Of course, Justin was lucky it wasn't haunted or worse.

    @ Jefferies: Great, really great. The romance between Jyarl and Missy doesn't really do it for me, but the little orc girl and Jyarl's struggle to hold on to her are really endearing. The human supremacist is appropriately slimy... the kind of racist you actually meet in real life.

    @ Luke Goodfellow: Adorable. Poor Carl, though.

    @ Meeting of Champions: This one is kind of strange. I've never liked stories about inter-planar wars, to be honest. But the constrast between the various armies and champions made it really colorful, so to speak.

    @ Second chance: I'm really not the one to appreciate relationship drama, but it was good for what it was.

    @ Final Rites: Not sure what to make of it. It feels like I'm lacking some context.

    @ The Final Night: This one really didn't do anything for me, I'm sorry to say. I have no idea who the characters are and it feels too much like dry exposition.

    @ Showtime: Hah. It's amusing to see adopting his father's approach to life backfiring on Cassius.
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  24. - Top - End - #204
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    Vita / Rugal
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    Twenty families stood in the courtyard in front of Vesta's temple, with citizens gathered around to watch. On the dias stood the Governor, Uncle Octavius, with the white and red robed Vestales nearby.

    Her twin brother Felis clung tightly to her hand. Not Vita, not Vita, not Vita, she could hear him thinking.

    We'll still hear each other, she reminded him.

    What if we don't? What if Vesta stops it?

    She won't. She's the goddess of hearth and home and family.

    But what if she does anyway?

    Vita didn't answer. Felis wouldn't stop worrying, no matter what she said. If she was chosen, she would serve thirty years. One decade as student, one decade as servant, one decade as teacher. Vestal Flavia had just finished her third decade, and was standing next to Uncle Octavius, ready to relinquish her duties to the girl who was about to be chosen.

    Please not Vita.

    Vita wasn't afraid. Her parents and her uncle had spoken to her about it, and Vestal Flavia had as well. She understood what was expected if she was chosen. Vestal Flavia had answered all of her questions.

    Please please not Vita.

    The Vestal lifted the glass bowl, containing twenty tiles, and Vita's uncle put his hand into the bowl. He drew a tile and Vita suddenly knew by the way his shoulders moved sightly that it was her name on the tile and that...

    ... you think he didn't want you to be chosen? Why would he let your name go in the lots?

    "Vita Aemilia," he read as he pointed directly at Vita.

    I don't know! He said it was an honour! Vita kept her face calm, despite her panic. She wouldn't bring shame to her Uncle at such an important event.

    Are you sure he didn't want you?

    Her Uncle was stepping down off the dais, moving towards her. She kept her eyes on him even as her mother was leaning down to hug and kiss her, and her father was accepting the congratulations of others.

    His shoulders slumped a little. The way they do when he gets bad news.

    I don't want you to go!

    "I take you, Vita, to be a Vestal priestess, who will carry out sacred rites which it is the law for a Vestal priestess to perform on behalf of the Thessalonikian people, on the same terms as her who was a Vestal 'on the best terms'" Her Uncle said. He took her by the hand.

    Vita turned to her twin, who still gripped her other hand, and kissed him.

    I'll always be with you. Let go, Felis.

    Finally, reluctantly, he did, and then he clung to his mother and cried.


    1

    Vita had invited Rugal to reach into her mind to share the memory of her captio, her "capture" as a Vestalis, but she ended it here. The memory of Felis's pain was too strong - and too similar to what had just occurred - to relive it again. Rugal recognized this and pulled her closer physically while withdrawing from her mentally.

    "They had to carry him home, because he wouldn't stop crying or looking through my eyes," Vita said. "He didn't stop until I was led into the temple and felt Vesta's protection descend on me. He didn't believe until that moment that she would allow us to stay bound."

    "I can understand why your Uncle wouldn't have wanted you chosen. I wouldn't want such a thing done to a child I cared for. But why did he allow you to be a candidate at all?"

    "It must have been for political reasons. It would have looked bad if he had not been willing to commit his niece to the service of the city. Even so, I was given the opportunity to refuse. They would not have entered my name without my consent."

    "You understood what the vows entailed? At that age?" Rugal asked.

    Vita laughed ruefully. "No. Of course not. How can a child of eight understand celibacy, or have a grasp of how long three decades really is? All I really understood was obedience and duty."

    It was too much to ask of you.

    Felis, go back to sleep.

    You took the vows to protect the city, but now you are an exile. All your vows are doing is keeping you from happiness.


    "You're frowning," Rugal said.

    "Felis wants me to repudiate my vows to be with you." Vita said.

    Rugal ran the back of his fingers along her cheek. "You know I won't ask that of you."

    "I know," Vita said. "That is why I love you."


    About the Vestales.
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  25. - Top - End - #205
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    Wolfy

    Meeting of Champions It's certainly an odd way to begin a war, but I've read enough European history to know how plausible it is. I liked the Atticus cameo too. Hope to see more of him and the others.

    Final Rites This is definitely the most interesting interpretation of the Green Knight story that I've ever read. Did you come up with it yourself, or find it somewhere else and adapt it for your own use? Either way, it worked well.

    The First Night I'm biased of course, since Vita is my character, but I loved it, and I am glad to get a bit of backstory on Rugal.

    Showtime I confess, I really had doubts you could make that work when Pat first started her plan to engineer a child for he and Tinman, but Cassius really is a true son of Magtok.


    1

    DoomITP

    The First Not enough here to go on


    1

    Beans / C'Nor

    Talina/Nycca: Thank you for removing Remnant from the story. Also, the blind room was horrifying. A truly nightmarish image.


    1

    McBish

    The Dawn - Calvin's story, as well as his appearances in the Nexus, are intriguing. I should really toss someone at him (besides Jeanne, who wouldn't care) to learn more IC. Would this be okay?


    1

    Magtok

    Patient 413 You are brilliant. Please write more.


    1

    @ People who like Jefferies: Thank you. She's so much fun to write for, and I'm glad that other people enjoy her stories.
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  26. - Top - End - #206
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    About Final Rites

    There isn't much of a context that's there to miss unless you've never read Sir Gwain and the Green Knight. As far as The Green Knight = Death concept, it's something that's always been taught within my family at least, much to the disdain of my numerous English/Literature/Reading teachers.

    As for a cult based around the figure of such, I didn't find it too unbelievable as there have always been cults and religions based around Death. This one was just one given a different form that honestly isn't too far-fetched in my opinion.

  27. - Top - End - #207
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    Time for some comments I didn't do last time, for Talina and Nycca. I'm sort of commenting on them together because they're intertwined.

    Talina's part isn't bad but I can't say I found it very good either. Overall it's decent, but I feel like it's a bit too... impersonal, I guess, for something written in first person.

    Nycca's part feels a little too detached, although that might be on purpose, I'm not sure. Still, the stylized writings before and during the enslavement looked very authentic.

    Please tell me if there's anything else you'd like me to comment on. Since I'm not going to write anything anytime soon, I can at least contribute this way.
    Last edited by Morty; 2012-08-23 at 03:00 PM.
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  28. - Top - End - #208
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    Not a part 3 for Alfred/Agneau per se, but it does give insight on what happened if I ever do write it. (Though probably not.) It takes place after Alfred and his mother's conversation with Shadowcaller's Sir Correl.

    Fair is Fair

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    The Extent of OrchestraHc's Command of the French Language

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    As they reached the greenery of the grove, the woman began to hold tighter to her son's hand. It was heartbreaking to have to be lead through the dangerous forest by her son. Though none could bring harm upon her, faeries and elves were at their full power in this forest, and at their full wickedness. She was his mother, so it should have been her leading them through this frightening place, but this was Alfred’s playground. He walked without a fear in the world, as comfortable as walking down a sidewalk, saying hello to passing satyrs and talking flowers. All she could do was cringe away from them. Don’t offend them, don’t provoke them, and don’t be noticed by them.

    With his hand to his heart, Alfred led his very human mother to his very inhuman mother’s home. It was a simple looking hut that seemed to have been grown from the grown rather than built. As they approached the door, they were greeted before they could even knock. It was the dryad who answered the door with a very polite, “Please come in.”

    “Auntie!” Alfred shouted, leaping into the arms of tree-dweller. “You’ll never be able to guess what we’ve come to tell you!”

    “I’m sure I won’t, Honeysuckle, but let’s save it for later,” the nymph replied, “You’ll want to tell your Mére first.”

    “Uh-huh!” He says running to the only other figure within the hut.

    An abnormally tall woman with long arms and legs and, damn if the mother would ever admit it, a beautiful face, sat in a chair at the end of the room. The mother’s heart ached a little as Alfred ran to that woman’s arms. “Mon petit Agneau, how are you today?” she asked with that damn perfect voice. And that name. Alfred had learned that name before he ever learned his own name. His real name.

    “Amazing, Mére! Do you remember Sir Correl?” Alfred asks, taking a seat in her slender lap.

    “Le chevalier? Oui. Did you see him again?”

    “Oui! He once said I could be his squire, so when I asked him when we met today he said yes!”

    The faerie cheered along with Alfred, and gave him a congratulatory kiss on the fore head. “Tres Merveilleux, mon Agneau!”

    “Mother even agreed to let me do it. I cannot wait! This is going to be wonderful!”

    “She did?” the fair woman asked, turning her attention to Alfred’s mother, who shrank at her gaze. “I would not have expected that of you, Mouton, you’re normally such a fuddy-duddy.”

    The mother said nothing at the insult. Any human would seem like a bore compared to a magical faerie.

    “Mére, please,” Alfred said, not completely unaware of the hostility between the two women.

    “Alright, mon petit,” the fair-mother conceded to the child. “Auntie, please take Alfred outside. Mouton and I have some things to discuss.”

    “Right away, Mére. Come little Honeysuckle, we’ll discuss your future as a knight,” the dryad says, taking him by the hand.

    “Alright,” he said reluctantly. He was lead out of the hut and around the back, where he was unable to hear inside the hut.

    So it was just the two of them alone. “Have a seat, Mouton,” the fair-mother offered. She motioned to a stool in front of her. The only other pieces of furniture in the hut were her chair and a bed off to the side.

    “I’ll stand,” the human said, simply.

    “Fine then,” the faerie said, her smile unchanged. “What is on your mind, Mouton?”

    “We need to decide how this will affect our agreement,” she answered.

    “How shall what affect it, Mouton?”

    “Don’t play coy. Alfred’s squirehood. How will this affect our arrangement?”

    “Oh? You care about what I have to say now? You are acting strangely, Mouton,” she laughed as though it was the funniest thing in the world. “You didn’t care when you tried to send mon Agneau to school. When you tried to hide him away from me. When you tried to run from me, Mouton. I had to put a stop to it all those times. Since when do you ask for permission rather than forgiveness, Mouton?”

    “I’m his mother,” the woman asserted, trying to stand tall. “I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

    “Which still doesn’t answer why you’re here, Mouton,” the faerie said, finally standing from her chair. The faerie dwarfed the woman, and though it should have been impossible for her to stand in the small hut, she stood at full height looking down on the woman. Her hands reached down and cupped the mother’s face. Though they felt as soft as silk they had the grip of an iron vice on the woman. She stared her in the eyes, her smile unwavering as he spoke. “I bet it was to gloat, wasn’t it, you petty little woman. You’ve finally found a way to send my Agneau away from me and still have my support? Congratulations Mouton. This decision takes him away from you as well.”

    “I want what’s best for him, and what’s best for him is being far away from you.”

    “That’s what I think I hate most about you, Mouton. You’re so ungrateful. You stumble into the forest one day and happen upon Agneau. I let him spend time with you out of kindness and you think you can keep him. From his pure heart, he offers you pity, and you have the gall to make him love you like my equal. I give you an inch and you try to take a mile.” She began to raise her thumbs over the human’s eyes.

    “I’m his mother!” she yelled, still bravely staring at the faerie beyond her thumbs.

    “I raised him for three years.”

    “That doesn’t diminish that you stole him from his crib!”

    “Still ungrateful. I gave you a fair trade that night. That doll was more than enough for you. Why couldn’t you just be happy with it?” Pointing her thumbs inward, the nails begin to grow towards her eyes, barely an eyelash away from blinding the human mother.

    Without fear or hesitation, and in as even a tone as possible, the woman answered the Faerie. “If a doll is all Alfred is worth to you, I’d be happy to make you one of your own.” The faerie released her and she dropped a few inches onto her feet. At some point in the exchange had she been lifted off the ground, or did she simply feel light from how forcefully she managed to argue with the faerie?

    The tall faerie returned to her chair and began to dictate the new rules of the arrangement, apparently trying to pretend that conversation hadn't happened. “The rules are the same but with a third ground. No going after Agneau, or restricting his movement from one ground to the other is still the golden rule. The knight can harvest his hair if mon Agneau lets him, though that’s unlikely. Do also let le chevalier know I will hold him responsible should any ill befall Agneau.”

    The woman nodded consent. This was acceptable.

    “They will enter now, not a word of the rules or our conversation to Agneau.” She didn’t have to tell the woman twice. They both would hate to have Alfred see them in such a light. It was the one thing they agreed on, even if silently.

    The dryad and Alfred both entered the hut, hand in hand, a moment after. “Come on Alfred, we can go home now.” His mother said, extending her hand to take his.

    “I don’t see why he should have to leave so soon. You can stay for the night, mon petit Agneau.”

    The woman’s heart sank as she watched her son run past her to the seated faerie and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, Mére, but Mother will need my help leaving the Grove,” he said as he ran to his mother and took her hand. “Au revoir,” he added, leading them out of the hut. Happy to have his hand to hold onto, the mother was lead by her son out of the greenery of the grove and back to civilization.


    proper reviews to come later.
    Last edited by OrchestraHc; 2012-08-26 at 02:49 PM.

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  29. - Top - End - #209
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    Prologue: At the Mouth of the River
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    Quote Originally Posted by Slii Arhem View Post
    "And so here we are again..." At the far end of Northside, where the river meets the walls, Dionysus stands on the banks. He stares into the water with his staff in hand, contemplating his next actions.

    Would imposing his will on the city be a proper response to this crime against a single follower? Probably not. Would this interfere with his other plans? Probably so. Could he twist it around into even greater gains for himself?

    Of course.

    He lifts a finger, the tip stained red with blood from a wound he already inflicted, smearing it over the tip of his thyrsus and mixing the deep red blood with the honey that coats the pinecone so liberally. When he removes the finger and holds it over the water below, three drops fall in succession.

    One for himself.

    One for his followers.

    One for his enemies.

    The magic takes hold quickly as he swears a silent oath over the waters, and vines begin to take hold along the river's bottom. They will spread, and within a matter of weeks anyone drinking of the city's waters will feel his influence, from the pipes or the river itself. That on its own will not be enough to turn them to a god they never knew, but he's merely touched a foot to the dancefloor now. There's still time for him to remember how the steps go.

    Billie stumbles out of the garret of a man she'd met a few hours ago whose name she now couldn't remember. "No, YOU shut up!" she yells into the door, then begins flouncing down the rickety steps. Selfish bastard. Five minutes. Five lousy minutes, and he was done and ready to roll over and go to sleep, without having lifted a finger to make sure she was enjoying herself. In fact, he made it rather clear that he expected her to leave now. So she'd punched him, had a screaming match with him while pulling on her clothes, and had swiped his wallet while he was busy staunching his nosebleed.

    She makes it down most of the way with her pride intact, muttering about men being selfish jackasses, when she trips and sprawls down the last few steps, landing hard on the ground and busting open her chin. She's up again in seconds, her only seeming notice being a hand against the bleeding wound and her kicking off her heels and leaving them behind on the street, continuing on in torn fishnet stockings.

    She's still drunk, and walking at random. Is it fate that leads her steps towards the river? Or simply chance?

    She spots a man in a toga, sitting on the river bank with his feet in the water. A man she recognizes.

    "Hey! You were at that party!"

    "I was! And you must have been too, if you recognized me so quickly. Still, you might have to be more specific. I've been to a lot of parties, and we might have even met at more than one of them." The man calls back. "Dionysus, at the service of those that want me."

    "I'm Billie," she says, tipping her hat. Or rather, failing to do so. She's forgotten she was wearing a fascinator held on with an elastic band, jostles it down over one eye, and looks a bit silly as she works to straighten it. "It was the party with all the animal scrolls. Sorry I didn't make it to the orgy, but my buddy Vinny wanted someplace more private for nookie. I gotta tell you, Vinny's a swell ****. Not like that flat tire up there. Serve's him right I lifted all his jack." She's too drunk to notice the pronoun ambiguity, but Dionysus has no difficulty following the series of events. Sometime in the past, there had been someone named Vinny, who was a good lover. Tonight, her luck had not been as good in choosing someone to play with.

    "Ah, you mean my party. The hosts made it happen as a little favor to me between friends. You missed the orgy then? A damned pity that is." A damned pity indeed. Right under his nose and he never got the chance at a second glance or some words with this woman - someone who radiated such a desperate call to be guided down the path that ended in self-gratification. "Knicked his dosh did you? Right fine example of justice that is."

    "If I'm gonna get treated like a doxy, I 'spect to get paid," Billie says. She takes out the wallet and flips through it, chortling. "Ha! He'd have saved himself a lot of dough if he'd just told me he wanted a 5 minute lay and asked for a price. Dumb sap."

    "I'll tell you something Billie, that party back then was half dead and buried even before you left, and only got worse when some gatecrashers showed up later. I've been fed up with the sorry state of the events that the Nexus can provide, so I'm enlisting some outside help of my own to throw the biggest party this place has seen since its heyday. How's that sound to you?"

    Billie grins and sits down next to him. "When it comes to parties, I'm your dame. Heck, I'm rolling in mazuma. Need some help buying the giggle water?" She grabs a wad of money out of the wallet and offers it to him.

    That gets a laugh out of Dionysus, "Billie darling, I own all the giggle water. I'm the god of wine and high spirits, and they're about to get as high as they possibly can be. Ever witness a miracle firsthand?" As he speaks, the god dips a wooden cup from this side of nowhere into the river and offers it to Billie casually; clear water flows over its lip and spills on the ground as his hand dips slightly at the wrist.

    "No way! You're feeding me a line!" Billie laughs. "Cheers to your cheek!" she says, and drinks. Of course he's an obvious con man. But he was pleasant company, and if it was just a prank to get her to drink mucky river water, then she has no problem laughing at herself. If he's slipping her a mickey, she's confident it won't incapacitate her, and she'll realize it in time to get in a few good punches and leave him bleeding.

    "No, I'm feeding you my wine. How does your first miracle taste?" He inquires, tongue firmly in his cheek.

    Actual dark currant wine - the best wine she's ever had, though she's really too drunk to appreciate it properly - she was not expecting. Her eyes go big, and she might have spit in surprise if it weren't an absolute sin to waste wine this good.

    She doesn't say a word, just looks at him in awe, until she finishes it all. Dammit! What did he say his name was?

    "That is one fine tasting Miracle you got there, Sir."

    "Dionysus, or Dio if it's easier for you to remember and pass around. So, still don't believe me when I say I can provide enough liquid memory eraser to get this whole town right and rowdy?" The god smirks twirling his fingers in a slow circle as he limbers up his wrist.

    At the end of the superfluous gesture, a rose dangles from his fingers, yellow petals glistening with dew. He runs the index finger and thumb of his other hand down the stem, causing all the thorns to fall off and clatter to the ground before offering it to Billie as if she were a proper lady.

    "Because that's just what I plan to do. Before the week is out, if this whole town hasn't abandoned the comforts of home and family for my desirous delights, I will eat your tiny little hat."

    Billie lets her fingers brush against his, brings the rose close to inhale deeply, and then tucks it behind her ear. "I believe you, Dionysus," she says, and leans close to him, looking up into his eyes. The cup slips from her fingers to roll along the grass, and it'd be clear to a stammering virgin that she's making an offer.

    "You do? It's been a very long time since someone believed me, rather than just believing in me. Even longer since someone has approached me like you are now." Dionysus is certainly no stammering virgin, and interest shines in his eyes. "What if I proposed to finish you off where John Dunce barely started?"

    Billie had been considering him for this purpose since she first saw him on the riverbank. What better balm for disappointing whoopee than another try with someone new? Of course she's never been propositioned by a god before, and that leaves her uncharacteristically unsure of herself - enough that she actually colours a bit. Normally her next move would be a kiss or a grope, but is she allowed to do that? So instead, she just puts her hand on his arm and answers him in words. "That'd be swell."

    Dionysus snaps his fingers and denudes them both, in a burst of magic that leaves the clothes folded on the grass, "No time to waste on the eve of celebration then." And without any more flowery speech, Dionysus pulls the curtain there, in full view of the street.

    For a mortal, without the least bit of succubus blood or any other form of magical sex appeal, Billie is pretty damn good. Lots of practice gets the credit, as well as never having been burdened with the slightest bit of body shame. But for now, all Dionysus seems to be interested in is bringing her pleasure through the act, neglecting himself until he's sure she's taken care of. Once that's done with he allows himself some enjoyment before drawing the curtain back.

    "You know, I think you're too good to just be caught up in the tumult to come with no clear direction. I think you should help me give the directions. If you're interested of course."

    "I'm interested in anything you want from me," Billie says with the fervency of a True Believer. She has found religion for the first time in her life, and has decided she rather likes it.

    The moment is interrupted by an angry voice. "Hey! Hey, you **** ****! Give me back my wallet!" The man from the garret had finally noticed his wallet was missing. He'd hardly expected to find the thief still this close to his garret, and he certainly hadn't expect to find her lying on the riverbank wearing nothing but her glasses, blissed out on god sex. This seems a stroke of good luck in his mind.

    He couldn't be more wrong.

    "Then give me some direction. Ferret, weasel, or some other small mustelid?" Dionysus gestures placidly at the obviously irate scumbag Billie stole from earlier. Other than that, he seems to be ignoring the cad entirely.

    "No. Vinny was a ferret the night of the party, so I have a fond spot for weasel-kind." Billie says, then tries to think of an alternative. "How about a pigeon?"

    "Of course, how foolish of me." Dionysus gestures with the hand not currently occupied with Billie and the grass around them grows a bit taller, each strand turning a darker yet more visbile shade of green.

    As the man walks into the half-circle of grass, each step changes him a little. The first step causes his hair to turn into feathers. All of his hair. The second step causes his face to start changing shape. The third step changes his hips and legs, and he stumbles over trousers that no longer fit, and involuntarily run a couple steps forward to keep from falling, scoring him wings and a tail.

    But he stops here. Just past the halfway line. Trying to say "What did you do to me, you ****?!" but as he opens his mouth... beak... it only comes out as a squawk.

    "All problems can eventually be solved through the right abuse of nigh unlimited godly power. Since you're sorely lacking in your own, I'm afraid you're going to have to find another way out of this one young sir. Pray to any god you like, but I doubt many of them will answer you if that's the kind of language you use." While Billie is laughing uproariously, Dio picks up his thyrsus and gestures with it at the more-than-half pigeoned man. A vine rises up from under his talons, snares him around the legs and flings him out of the circle he ran into. He probably wouldn't take a hint if it was glued to his eyelids, so maybe this will prevent him from suffering any more for his actions.

    And lo, the Pigeon Man, whose only crime was being a selfish lover, is defeated. He runs away, squawking in terror!

    Billie decides to reward this act of morally questionable gallantry by straddling Dionysus again for more carnal pleasure. Dio lets out some merry laughter of his own. Billie has turned out to be the silver lining in this grey cloud of a day.

    The debauchery doesn't end until sunrise. Billie eventually remembers her other half. "Say, Dionysus, when is this big event happening? I have to make arrangements to make sure I'm me at the right time." Not that she gives two hoots what Elaine thinks, but she knows that if she doesn't keep up her end of the deal, then Gus will be angry at her, and she might end up locked up in Remnant for good.

    "A week or so. There will be some small stirrings before then, but after a week passes the real event will have begun one way or another. There's no way of tell how long it might last though. Are you not always yourself then?" Dio seems interested, but that may just be the afterglow.

    "There's another person inside me. A real Mrs Grundy type. I used to fight her for control, but now we take turns all polite-like because my son and her son are making us. They're the same way as us, two people in one body, only they are actually friends." Billie pulls a face at the idea of being friends with Elaine, but then she has a happier thought. "Nah, it'll be okay. If I tell her what's going to be happening, she'll thank me for staying in charge until it's over. I'll just make up the time later."

    "Hmm... I'll leave those arrangements to you then. So long as you don't miss out on all the fun." He takes a moment to smooth the hair back from her forehead and leave a kiss there instead. "I wouldn't want to have to eat that hat of yours just because your other half turned out to be a stick in the mud."

    "Hat-eating will not be necessary," Billie says. She takes off her hat and flings it off into the river. A show of faith. "I don't want to miss a minute of it."

    "Glad to hear it. For you." Dionysus pulls a bottle from the folds of his discarded toga and places it on the grass. "Once the contents are gone, I'll leave you a message so you'll know what to do. I'm going to have to think up similar ones for all the rest of the disorganizers I'll need here just to show the Nexus how to have a proper good time." He explains, grabbing his toga and beginning to fasten it on properly. This has been a magnificent distraction, but it's past time he starts preparing for things to get interesting.

    "Wait! Should I pray or anything? I don't know how to be religious!" Billie asks. She grabs the bottle and gets to her feet to help him on with his toga and cop a last feel or two.

    Dionysus laughs merrily, "Drink! And when you need me, raise a glass to my name and call it out loud. That usually gets my attention better than some half-hearted prayers. Other than that, just wait for my instructions and follow them when you can, and have fun when you can't." Dionysus almost invites the gropes with how slowly he's dressing, and runs a hand through Billie's hair to straighten it out a bit when he's done. "Anything else you need to know? This isn't how my crash courses in godly worship usually go."

    "Is there anything I shouldn't do? Um... should I give up other guys?" Billie asks, which is something she really doesn't want to do, and probably can't do even for Dio. But she's very much smitten, and at the moment is drunk enough on lust and god-wine to make the offer.

    "I wouldn't dream of asking such a thing. Besides, if all my followers went to me and me alone for those kinds of things, I'd have no time to devote to my wine!" It's true after all. Wine is very important to a god of, well, wine.

    Billie impulsively hugs Dio. "You're the best."

    He plants a surprisingly chaste kiss on her forehead in return, "That's why I exist. To bring my followers happiness and freedom when I can. It must be the greatest treasure in the world for me to covet it like this." The hand still holding his staff thumps it on the ground with a quick motion, and a few vines rise up from between them to pull Dio back, and then down into the earth without another word. This goodbye was getting long, and he wasn't lying to himself about having work to do.

    Billie lets him go, blowing a kiss at the ground, and then slowly gets dressed herself. Mostly. She tossed her shoes and her hat already, and now she decides her ripped stockings deserve the same treatment.

    She puts the bottle and the remains of the yellow rose in her bag, and then lies back on the grass, holding the wooden wineglass in her hands, and replaying the encounter in her mind to fix every moment of it in her memory.

    If this turned out to be a dream, she wanted to make sure she never forgot it. Not one word. Not one touch.


    ((Revised from IC interaction, with Slii's permission.))
    Last edited by happyturtle; 2012-08-27 at 09:57 AM.
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  30. - Top - End - #210
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    What accent is Billie supposed to have? She's using a lot of slang I think is british, but I don't actually know. It feels kind of old too, like dated foreign slang. I think that would be fitting actually.

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