Shipping itP II: Scourge of the Seven Seas

[RabbitHoleLost]

I am always interested.
((Jeez, I'm a ship whore))

I promise, since tomorrow is my day off, there will be ship fics.

[randman22222]

Ok, after many lies, postponing and delays, I present to you the first chapter of the Escapees series.

Escapees

An Ethrael & Co. Production

Chapter One: Accounts from the Air

Starring:

randman22222 as Cyclops/Randy Summers
Kaelaroth as Marvel Girl/Kael Grey-Summers
Calamity as Nightcrawler/Cal Wagner
FF Fanboy as Shadowcat/Stefania "Fan" Pryde
Haruki-kun as Archangel/Warkun Worthington
Ethrael as Storm/Ethrael Munroe
dallas-dakota as Beast/Dr. Dak McCoy
Lykan as Wolverine/James "Lykan" Howlett
And a brief cameo by Kneenibble!

Spoiler

Show

Dipping slightly downwards after every wing flap, Archangel slowly climbed his way into the sky. Gradually, as he ascended, his wing beats became more and more ineffective as the air thinned and Storm’s weight dragged him down.

She was far heavier than last time he remembered lifting her, not three years ago. Had she put on weight on her honeymoon with the Black Panther? No matter. He had to find a cloud before the planes spot them. Warkun clenched his teeth and beat his wings even more often and strongly.

They had been soaring for three or four minutes when he began to tire of pumping his wings so regularly and hard. He dropped a little and began soaring, interrupting a graceful glide every now and then with a few flutters from the pearl-white, feather canvasses on his back.

As he drifted, now lower, he was able to take in the full beauty of the land below. Between white, overly plumped-up clouds Warkun gazed upon a seemingly endlessly stretching pure azure lake, fortified on its southern side by an equally long forest, as green as the lake was blue. On the opposite side, the landscape descended more steeply into the lake. Narrow slashes of white meandering steeply through the young cliffs exposed to Warkun that a few streams ended up in foaming cataracts and eventually in the lake. There was no sign of where exactly the waterfalls entered it, as the lake was as still as a corpse.

Relishing in the beauty of the land slowly and unnoticedly brought him down below the cloud cover. He only realized this when it was too late.

The valley had once again filled with the roar of engines, almost as if the jets had been waiting to pounce on him whenever they had the chance. Panicking slightly, Archangel beat his wings manically, trying to lose himself and Storm in the dense blanket above.

Ascending, and almost at his goal, he was nearly knocked to the ground as a jet shrieked by, the noise nearly deafening him. Why hadn’t they shot at him? They were relishing the thought that he was at their mercy, enjoying it while it lasted. Toying with him, the bastards. Well he wasn’t at their mercy, certainly not their toy, and he was very capable of proving it.

Hovering in mid-air, he turned and watched the plane zoom off into the distance, flip upwards and twirl its course back to him, much like an Olympic swimmer. His superhuman eyes could make out the pilot inside leaning forward eagerly.

Smiling slightly, Warkun readied himself.

The jet neared, growing every so slightly larger by the second. The pilot leaned forward even more. Warkun could even see foam in the corner of his mouth.

The plane closed in on him even more. A hundred metres, fifty, twenty-five metres, 10…

Warkun lifted his wings - and was gone.

The pilot slowed down and switched the hover shafts on. Mid-air, he searched visibly and invisibly around to see where the avian monstrosity had disappeared. “Angel to Weather-witch. Target has vanished. I repeat, target has vanished. Be aware of any-”

Slowly floating down onto the windscreen from the through the clouds came a white, small feather. It touched down lightly and settle there. Despite the wind.

“Angel? Angel, do you read me?”

The feather lay still.

And in the feather, the pilot could see a perfect reflection of himself.

“Weather-witch!” he shouted, grapping the microphone, “Angel is now Archangel! I repeat, Angel is now-“

The windscreen smashed, the jet shuddered and the engine screamed. Lying embedded amongst the many buttons and switches was a glittering, hard, cold feather.

The jet began to fall. One of the feathers must have pierced the hover engines. The plane span and twirled rushing to meet up with the ground eagerly.

The pilot picked up the microphone one last time and ordered, “Fire upon sight.” Slamming his fist down on the Escape button, the shot up into the sky, abandoning his plane.

Further above, through the foggy clouds, Archangel watched as the jet fell. He watched as the pilot ejected and his parachute caught the wind. Should he fire once more? No, he wasn’t that cruel. He noise began to ease and die down, then begin again.

Warkun searched immediately for the source of the new noise. No jet to be seen, not even to his hawk-eyes.

“Warkun?” came a weak and bemused voice from below.
“Ethrael? We’re being attacked. A jet, but I can’t find it. I-”

He was cut off by a sonic blast aimed right his back. Aimed. He screamed and fell forwards, dropping storm.

“Warkun!” she shrieked as she fell.

Trying to regain his flight pattern and searching for Ethrael through the cloud, Angel was in a state of panic.

The roar of engines brought him back to his senses and priorities. Turning mid-air, he came face-to-face with his attacked. A giant B-2 Spirit, with an equally giant cannon underneath. Spray-painted on top were the capitals KNB.

“KNB? Wha…” his eyes widened upon seeing the cannon begin to glow and spin. “Oh, sh-”

He stopped beating his wings and fell out of the way just in time. The cannon re-aimed and fired. The Spirit growled and began chasing. He twisted out of the way. It fired again. The Spirit zoomed up ahead. He flipped up and around. The pilot pressed the button on t he aiming lever. Locked on. Warkun panicked. He was right in front of him. Clear shot. Point-blank. The pilot grinned and pressed. The cannon fired.

No air came out.

The sky was filled with outrage, the clouds fevered and furious. The bellow of an enormous beast wakened from its slumber made the engines sound like a whining kitten, drowning out the sound of the cannon. Unrest was the very essence of the air. Maelstroms of twisting and spinning winds sprouted up arbitrarily. And in the middle of it all rose up Storm. Eyes arcing with lightning, palms glowing with energy.

With a sudden chop of her hand, the wind screamed and a dent appeared on the plane. Then more. Then limbs began to drop off as if the jet had leprosy, first the cannon, then wings and the rest. Slowly and steadily, Ethrael was dismantling the plane.

Through the slowly floating metal debris, Storm managed to remain serene. Feet together, cape billowing gracefully behind. She looked like a floating ballet dancer. She looked like a goddess. She looked astonishing. The illumination of the lightning behind her outlined the near-perfect curvature of her silhouette with an eerie blue glow. Angel had never seen her like this before. Completely in her element.

Finally finishing with the dismantling, Storm brought out the pilot, reluctant as he was. “What does KNB mean?” her voice boomed and echoed from every direction, reverberating sweetly and yet demandingly throughout all.

“Ngh, not – telling you!” the pilot managed.

Storm raised an eyebrow and a bolt of lightning shrieked down, skimming the pilot by inches. The howls of the wind increased. “Would you care to re-think that answer?”

The pilot, now terrified, stuttered. “M-m-my n-name.”

“What is your name?” Warkun demanded.

The pilot bowed his head and muttered something inaudible in the uproar all around. Either Storm managed to hear it or she heard it from the winds, for she looked bemused and far more human now. “What? Knenibble?” What kind of a name is that?”

“I like it, all right!” spat the pilot. He looked as if he would taken the argument far beyond verbal. “It suits me.”

“What, you nibble knees?” chortled Warkun, hand covering mouth, trying to suppress a laugh.

Kneenibble looked dryly at him, “Yeah, cos you’re made as God’s messenger and she’s a puff of water vapour with electricity flashing through it.”

The storm seemed to die down. The clouds dispersed to their own congregations, and the winds began to murmur softly rather than scream. “It doesn’t matter what your name is now, who sent you?” inquired Storm.

Kneenibble grinned, “You know who sent me.”

The X-men exchanged glances. “You’re dismissed.” Announced Storm, and let go. A split second before he fell, the pilot’s eyes inflated and his mouth opened and closed like a fish gulping air.

Watching him drop and scream, Warkun asked, “You’re not actually going to let him fall, are you?”

“Oh no, what do you take me for, a savage?” replied Storm. “The winds do not take being used against their will lightly, and they have their own justice system.”

The corner of his mouth twitched it into a half-smile. “Hrmph. Oh well, we have a long way to travel, we best get started.”

Storm turned round to look at him for the first time. Behind her, the setting sun was now visible and cast her face in even more darkness and dyed her hair a deep blood red. Smiling, she said playfully, “Try to keep up,” and she set off.

Warkun smiled back at her distancing form.

Next: The Tale of the Subtle Ones.

If anyone's interested to have a role in the next parts, PM me or post here.

Oh and on a side note, I have an idea for a random ship, anyone in particular interested?

You killed Kneen!
Excellently written, though.

[CurlyKitGirl]

And out of MSN comes this delightful fic; courtesy of the local shop for local people. ANd me 'n' 'zira.

'zira/EE:
Office Matters

Spoiler

Show

It was the middle of the war and EE was consulting with his secretary in his private office. Outside the sky was shifting pearlescently through the shades of softest grey and inside the fire crackled away to itself peacefully as the two spoke on matters of the greatest urgency.
"Well then 'zira, my . . . 'secretary', will you go over the notes from the previous meeting?"
"Why certainly." With a shuffle 'zira drew closer to EE and began to read out what their last . . . discussion was about. Gazing at his secretary EE nibbled away on his favourite selection of cookies until he ran out. Frowning slightly he stood up and wrenched open the door. "JOSEPHINE!! More cookies!"
Frustrated, his normally calm face burning red as the fire simmering on the warm hearth he sat back down to see 'zira looking at him in consternation. "Are you okay sir?" he queried drawing ever closer. He could feel 'ziras' gentle breaths caressing the sensetive skin on his neck. EE frowned slightly and leant closer; he opened his mouth to whisper something to his secretary when someone knocked on the door.
"Dave, is that you Dave?"
The pair glanced up annoyed. And just when they were going somewhere too "There's no Dave here!" shouted 'zira petulantly as he walked to the door.
"Open up Dave." 'zira was starting to get pretty freaked out now. Come to think of it, who could get this close to EE's private study when he was in a meeting without getting intercepted by all those guards and that cheating wife of EEs'?
"But . . . there's no Dave here."
"Dave. Open up Dave." Mesmerised by the gravelly voice 'zira found that he'd opened the door to a man who must have escaped from the grotesquery! A horrid man with frizzy black hair, a blacked out face and gaping white rings of makeup around his eyes and mouth.
"Will you be my wife Dave?" said Papa Lazerou as he luched into the inner sanctum of the Emperor of half of Europe. The Emperor had risen out of his seat and begun shouting for guards and at the grotesque man - thing in his room. But his attention was all on 'zira.
"But I'm a man."
"Dave, you said you'd be my wife. Give me your ring Dave." All unthinking 'zira slipped off his personal signet ring and placed it in the gloved hands of Papa Lazerou.
"Your my wife now Dave." he grinned disturbingly and took 'ziras' hand.
"Dave, let's go back home now." and they left, leaving EE aghast at what had happened. This shouldn't have happened. And who was that, that, that thing that took the man he wanted to steal a kiss from.
"I really need some more damn cookies."

Yuhuh. You can't unread it.

@Thes: I'll be writing the next part up tonight or tomorrow.

[Ethrael]

@rand: Who ever said he died? Maybe he will return in future chapters as King of the Winds!

[turkishproverb]

were do we get the lists of who we're allowed to ship?

[CurlyKitGirl]

First post. Link to permission thread.
Also check through the old thread for permissions given there.

[Dallas-Dakota]

[QUOTE=Ethrael;4905004]
If anyone's interested to have a role in the next parts, PM me or post here. /QUOTE]
Ship meee!
*ship whore*

[Madmal]

well, i just recently posted on the permission thread.

You can use me if you want.

[Vespe Ratavo]

*raises hand, jumps up and down eagerly*

Come on! Use me! Use me! No one's shipped me yet! It would be totally new and original!

[Moff Chumley]

And out of MSN comes this delightful fic; courtesy of the local shop for local people. ANd me 'n' 'zira.

'zira/EE:
Office Matters

Spoiler

Show

It was the middle of the war and EE was consulting with his secretary in his private office. Outside the sky was shifting pearlescently through the shades of softest grey and inside the fire crackled away to itself peacefully as the two spoke on matters of the greatest urgency.
"Well then 'zira, my . . . 'secretary', will you go over the notes from the previous meeting?"
"Why certainly." With a shuffle 'zira drew closer to EE and began to read out what their last . . . discussion was about. Gazing at his secretary EE nibbled away on his favourite selection of cookies until he ran out. Frowning slightly he stood up and wrenched open the door. "JOSEPHINE!! More cookies!"
Frustrated, his normally calm face burning red as the fire simmering on the warm hearth he sat back down to see 'zira looking at him in consternation. "Are you okay sir?" he queried drawing ever closer. He could feel 'ziras' gentle breaths caressing the sensetive skin on his neck. EE frowned slightly and leant closer; he opened his mouth to whisper something to his secretary when someone knocked on the door.
"Dave, is that you Dave?"
The pair glanced up annoyed. And just when they were going somewhere too "There's no Dave here!" shouted 'zira petulantly as he walked to the door.
"Open up Dave." 'zira was starting to get pretty freaked out now. Come to think of it, who could get this close to EE's private study when he was in a meeting without getting intercepted by all those guards and that cheating wife of EEs'?
"But . . . there's no Dave here."
"Dave. Open up Dave." Mesmerised by the gravelly voice 'zira found that he'd opened the door to a man who must have escaped from the grotesquery! A horrid man with frizzy black hair, a blacked out face and gaping white rings of makeup around his eyes and mouth.
"Will you be my wife Dave?" said Papa Lazerou as he luched into the inner sanctum of the Emperor of half of Europe. The Emperor had risen out of his seat and begun shouting for guards and at the grotesque man - thing in his room. But his attention was all on 'zira.
"But I'm a man."
"Dave, you said you'd be my wife. Give me your ring Dave." All unthinking 'zira slipped off his personal signet ring and placed it in the gloved hands of Papa Lazerou.
"Your my wife now Dave." he grinned disturbingly and took 'ziras' hand.
"Dave, let's go back home now." and they left, leaving EE aghast at what had happened. This shouldn't have happened. And who was that, that, that thing that took the man he wanted to steal a kiss from.
"I really need some more damn cookies."

Yuhuh. You can't unread it.

@Thes: I'll be writing the next part up tonight or tomorrow.

O.o
I don't know wether to applaud or just not say anything... >.> <.<

[Volug]

I don't mind being shipped, Ethrael =\

[Raistlin1040]

*Ships Vespe*

My Eyes Have Seen You: Vespe/Haleyintraining

Spoiler

Show

Vespe walked off the concert stage, holding the neck of his bass, and got in his limo, the screams of the adoring fans still ringing in his ears. He sighed, unhappy. Nobody noticed him. Raistlin dominated the band. He sang, and played lead guitar, the two most easily identifiable members of any group. Vespe was just the bass player, easily replacable. He'd even heard the other guys talking about getting rid of him, because some hot chick who could play.

It had been even worse recently. Raist had been getting into glam rock, wearing bright clothes, long scarves, makeup, stuff like that. Vespe didn't have much of a problem with it, but it just reinforced Raist as the band's image even more.

He arrived at his apartment, and his driver opened the door. He thanked the driver and walked inside. A small bag was on his table. It had a tag which read "Vespe's fanmail" on it. He groaned. Raist got huge bags of fanmail daily. Even Randy got a lot, because he had a lot of fangirls. Vespe got maybe 10 a week, if he was lucky.

He opened up the bag and took out the first letter. He read it, questions about the album. Next few were the same. Another was about Raistlin, apparently it had been in the wrong bag. Another was a bill for Vespe's bass getting fixed at GuitarCenter. Another was a complaint about a tour date being cancelled.

Vespe sighed, and picked up the bag to throw it out. However, a letter that had been clinging to the bottom of the bag fell out. He rolled his eyes and opened it up to read it.

Dear Mr. Ratavo,

You probably won't read this letter, I'm sure you have a bunch of fan mail already, but on the chance you do, I wanted to tell you how cool I think you are. I've been to a dozen of your concerts, but I never can get backstage passes to meet you, which is something I always wanted to do.

Well as long as I'm writing this, which you'll probably never read...

I think you're cute. Also call me.

-Haley-in-training

A small piece of paper with her number on it fell out. Vespe smiles and dug out his cell phone to call her. Might as well make her day.

[Moff Chumley]

*Ships Vespe*

My Eyes Have Seen You: Vespe/Haleyintraining

Spoiler

Show

Vespe walked off the concert stage, holding the neck of his bass, and got in his limo, the screams of the adoring fans still ringing in his ears. He sighed, unhappy. Nobody noticed him. Raistlin dominated the band. He sang, and played lead guitar, the two most easily identifiable members of any group. Vespe was just the bass player, easily replacable. He'd even heard the other guys talking about getting rid of him, because some hot chick who could play.

It had been even worse recently. Raist had been getting into glam rock, wearing bright clothes, long scarves, makeup, stuff like that. Vespe didn't have much of a problem with it, but it just reinforced Raist as the band's image even more.

He arrived at his apartment, and his driver opened the door. He thanked the driver and walked inside. A small bag was on his table. It had a tag which read "Vespe's fanmail" on it. He groaned. Raist got huge bags of fanmail daily. Even Randy got a lot, because he had a lot of fangirls. Vespe got maybe 10 a week, if he was lucky.

He opened up the bag and took out the first letter. He read it, questions about the album. Next few were the same. Another was about Raistlin, apparently it had been in the wrong bag. Another was a bill for Vespe's bass getting fixed at GuitarCenter. Another was a complaint about a tour date being cancelled.

Vespe sighed, and picked up the bag to throw it out. However, a letter that had been clinging to the bottom of the bag fell out. He rolled his eyes and opened it up to read it.

Dear Mr. Ratavo,

You probably won't read this letter, I'm sure you have a bunch of fan mail already, but on the chance you do, I wanted to tell you how cool I think you are. I've been to a dozen of your concerts, but I never can get backstage passes to meet you, which is something I always wanted to do.

Well as long as I'm writing this, which you'll probably never read...

I think you're cute. Also call me.

-Haley-in-training

A small piece of paper with her number on it fell out. Vespe smiles and dug out his cell phone to call her. Might as well make her day.

Very nice. But why no fanmail for the small... green man?

[EvilElitest]

Wow, i don't know what to say to that ship. I just...........draw a blank.......mmmmmmm, cookies

from
EE

[randman22222]

*Ships Vespe*

My Eyes Have Seen You: Vespe/Haleyintraining

Spoiler

Show

Vespe walked off the concert stage, holding the neck of his bass, and got in his limo, the screams of the adoring fans still ringing in his ears. He sighed, unhappy. Nobody noticed him. Raistlin dominated the band. He sang, and played lead guitar, the two most easily identifiable members of any group. Vespe was just the bass player, easily replacable. He'd even heard the other guys talking about getting rid of him, because some hot chick who could play.

It had been even worse recently. Raist had been getting into glam rock, wearing bright clothes, long scarves, makeup, stuff like that. Vespe didn't have much of a problem with it, but it just reinforced Raist as the band's image even more.

He arrived at his apartment, and his driver opened the door. He thanked the driver and walked inside. A small bag was on his table. It had a tag which read "Vespe's fanmail" on it. He groaned. Raist got huge bags of fanmail daily. Even Randy got a lot, because he had a lot of fangirls. Vespe got maybe 10 a week, if he was lucky.

He opened up the bag and took out the first letter. He read it, questions about the album. Next few were the same. Another was about Raistlin, apparently it had been in the wrong bag. Another was a bill for Vespe's bass getting fixed at GuitarCenter. Another was a complaint about a tour date being cancelled.

Vespe sighed, and picked up the bag to throw it out. However, a letter that had been clinging to the bottom of the bag fell out. He rolled his eyes and opened it up to read it.

Dear Mr. Ratavo,

You probably won't read this letter, I'm sure you have a bunch of fan mail already, but on the chance you do, I wanted to tell you how cool I think you are. I've been to a dozen of your concerts, but I never can get backstage passes to meet you, which is something I always wanted to do.

Well as long as I'm writing this, which you'll probably never read...

I think you're cute. Also call me.

-Haley-in-training

A small piece of paper with her number on it fell out. Vespe smiles and dug out his cell phone to call her. Might as well make her day.

That one was cute.

[Dallas-Dakota]

Wow, i don't know what to say to that ship. I just...........draw a blank.......mmmmmmm, cookies

from
EE

*steals and NOM's EE's cookies*

[Ethrael]

Ok, here's one inspired by our English lesson yesterday. It was a little different, but most of it is set or based off that. Enjoy.

Wish you were here
MasatoHyuga/RHL

Spoiler

Show

“Just…keep quiet.”

The teacher’s weak attempt at restoring order could barely make itself heard over the raucous undulation of noise. Looking around for support, completely drained of all hope, she eventually decided to give up and leave the outcome to fate. Maybe the other teachers nearby will hear them. Maybe not. She slumped into her chair and began to tidy her desk humbly.

The idea at a free, creativity-related lesson as a vague attempt to appease the soon-to-be tyrants had blown up so much in her face it left ash stains. She went to open her mouth as a student stood up and shot a well-aimed paper aeroplane at one in front, but then closed it like a dumb-struck fool. Completely powerless and yet the authority of the room. Another student simply walked out the classroom. She didn’t even manage to notice him. Children ruled the day, and adults rued the day they let them.

And yet, miraculously, there just to happened to be one pupil who stood out amongst this primordial mess. He stood out and yet stood unnoticed. The pupil who normally sat at the front had chosen to sit and the very back, not throwing, not working, but wondering. Staring out the window at the picturesque London skyline across the pillowcloud-strewn sky, he wondered whether she was wondering too.

Picking up his pen with his crimson-bracelet adorned hand, and yet still gazing out the window, he wrote on a blank piece of paper, almost in a trance, four words.

Wish you were here...

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the graveyardly silent room on the bottommost floor of any dump in London, the girl lifted her head, stopping for a second, despite the teacher’s undisobeyable orders of eternal work. And yet, he didn’t notice her pause, wonder and drift.

She smiled at the window, and it seemed that for a split second the steel gauze of cloud parted to let a single beam of light to pass as she blushed slightly, adding the least amount of colour to the room. Turning back to her doodle-rabbit decked paper, she wrote two more words softly.

Me too

[Kaelaroth]

Deleted. Forever.

[Vespe Ratavo]

*Ships Vespe*

My Eyes Have Seen You: Vespe/Haleyintraining

Spoiler

Show

Vespe walked off the concert stage, holding the neck of his bass, and got in his limo, the screams of the adoring fans still ringing in his ears. He sighed, unhappy. Nobody noticed him. Raistlin dominated the band. He sang, and played lead guitar, the two most easily identifiable members of any group. Vespe was just the bass player, easily replacable. He'd even heard the other guys talking about getting rid of him, because some hot chick who could play.

It had been even worse recently. Raist had been getting into glam rock, wearing bright clothes, long scarves, makeup, stuff like that. Vespe didn't have much of a problem with it, but it just reinforced Raist as the band's image even more.

He arrived at his apartment, and his driver opened the door. He thanked the driver and walked inside. A small bag was on his table. It had a tag which read "Vespe's fanmail" on it. He groaned. Raist got huge bags of fanmail daily. Even Randy got a lot, because he had a lot of fangirls. Vespe got maybe 10 a week, if he was lucky.

He opened up the bag and took out the first letter. He read it, questions about the album. Next few were the same. Another was about Raistlin, apparently it had been in the wrong bag. Another was a bill for Vespe's bass getting fixed at GuitarCenter. Another was a complaint about a tour date being cancelled.

Vespe sighed, and picked up the bag to throw it out. However, a letter that had been clinging to the bottom of the bag fell out. He rolled his eyes and opened it up to read it.

Dear Mr. Ratavo,

You probably won't read this letter, I'm sure you have a bunch of fan mail already, but on the chance you do, I wanted to tell you how cool I think you are. I've been to a dozen of your concerts, but I never can get backstage passes to meet you, which is something I always wanted to do.

Well as long as I'm writing this, which you'll probably never read...

I think you're cute. Also call me.

-Haley-in-training

A small piece of paper with her number on it fell out. Vespe smiles and dug out his cell phone to call her. Might as well make her day.

That was really, really awesome. Thanks Raist!

[CurlyKitGirl]

Wow, i don't know what to say to that ship. I just...........draw a blank.......mmmmmmm, cookies

from
EE

Royston Vasey scares everyone. Especially Papa Lazerou.

Tears of the Innocent's second part, Blood and Rain will be up tonight.

[Volug]

Ok, here's one inspired by our English lesson yesterday. It was a little different, but most of it is set or based off that. Enjoy.

Wish you were here
MasatoHyuga/RHL

Spoiler

Show

“Just…keep quiet.”

The teacher’s weak attempt at restoring order could barely make itself heard over the raucous undulation of noise. Looking around for support, completely drained of all hope, she eventually decided to give up and leave the outcome to fate. Maybe the other teachers nearby will hear them. Maybe not. She slumped into her chair and began to tidy her desk humbly.

The idea at a free, creativity-related lesson as a vague attempt to appease the soon-to-be tyrants had blown up so much in her face it left ash stains. She went to open her mouth as a student stood up and shot a well-aimed paper aeroplane at one in front, but then closed it like a dumb-struck fool. Completely powerless and yet the authority of the room. Another student simply walked out the classroom. She didn’t even manage to notice him. Children ruled the day, and adults rued the day they let them.

And yet, miraculously, there just to happened to be one pupil who stood out amongst this primordial mess. He stood out and yet stood unnoticed. The pupil who normally sat at the front had chosen to sit and the very back, not throwing, not working, but wondering. Staring out the window at the picturesque London skyline across the pillowcloud-strewn sky, he wondered whether she was wondering too.

Picking up his pen with his crimson-bracelet adorned hand, and yet still gazing out the window, he wrote on a blank piece of paper, almost in a trance, four words.

Wish you were here...

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the graveyardly silent room on the bottommost floor of any dump in London, the girl lifted her head, stopping for a second, despite the teacher’s undisobeyable orders of eternal work. And yet, he didn’t notice her pause, wonder and drift.

She smiled at the window, and it seemed that for a split second the steel gauze of cloud parted to let a single beam of light to pass as she blushed slightly, adding the least amount of colour to the room. Turning back to her doodle-rabbit decked paper, she wrote two more words softly.

Me too

>_<
......
O_O

[Ethrael]

Is ^ a good or bad response? I can't read. Hope you liked it, and as I explained to RHL I know it's an odd pairing (I seem to have a knack at that) but I just put in the two people who posted at my request.

[Volug]

It's good, just odd pairing...

[Moff Chumley]

...IIIIIInteresting...

[RabbitHoleLost]

Well, I've promised a lot...and as usual, I didn't do what I said I would =P
And this totally isn't because I stalk Kneenibble's youtube account, I swear...
:: is a creepy fangirl::

Kneenibble/Raistlin1040

Spoiler

Show

It had been nearing twilight as Raistlin caught the trailing notes upon the air, putting his homework aside as he peered out the door to his dorm room, confused.
A Piano?
With measured steps, the boy walked down the steps, following the dancing notes which hung deliciously in the air like heavy morning dew. It lead him to the commons, where there sat a man playing.
Raistlin hadn't even known there was a piano in the dormitory building, but he stood silently, watching the other male figure playing, his long, beautiful fingers connecting with the keys in just the perfect way, a mug of tea, still steaming, placed to the side. Raistlin had never really been fond of piano music, but he couldn't tear his eyes away, couldn't stop watching with his mouth agape.
And, as Kneenibble wrapped up the particular piece he was working on, Raistlin noted for the first time that he hadn't yet breathed in that room, and suddenly took a loud gasp of air, alerting the pianist to the intruder. The younger boy became alarmed, terrified of how Kneenibble would react to his unexpected audience.
Instead, Kneenibble only smiled knowingly.
"Good evening, Raistlin."

[Ethrael]

@^ Nice, slightly creepy but overall I found it...classy.

@V Very strong pictures, not all beautiful. Really gets you into the head of the characters. Realllllly well done.

[CurlyKitGirl]

*blinks*
Out of curiosity I decided to collect all the fics I've ever written or helped write and I've so far got close to 11 000 words (including Tears of the Innocent) and I've only just done page 20 of the old thread!
I've writ a heck of a lot.

Not exactly shipping, more 'fan'fiction than anything.
Disclaimer: the characters are real, however, their actions and moods are shaped to fit the circumstances.
Depending on, I may or may not continue this.

Characters:
Mordokai
Cristo
Thes
Shadow
Sundry others

Tears of the Innocent

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It was nearing noon, the time of safety. Bandits and monsters never attacked then, it was as if an unspoken rule of truce existed where none would fight from mid - morning to afternoon; and all were lulled peacefully in calm.
That was why Thes, Hunter of the Gilded Rayth, leader of her own brigand band was just a few short minutes away from a village. Quite an unremarkable one really - small, unassuming, but slightly too close to the tree line while possessing one unique thing: an artefact crafted of a rich, unknown metal that was gilded in gold and electrum. It was worth far more than a pretty sum. It was worth a stunningly beautiful sum. And the Hunter of the Guilded Rayth wanted it.
So she was going to take it.
She and her band of men and women were small but far more trained than the normal bands that littered the lands like a disease. But then, what could one expect when the leader was once the General of the Eastern Quarter?
The sun was high overhead when she led the attack. It was merciless, "Kill anyone, if you see something you want take it. No burnings." None of her lot knew why she was adamant for there to be no burnings, however, such a small restriction was no matter. They attacked.

Mordokai felt a tic develop in his eye. For ages nor that accursed Mi'ir had been travelling with him , but just last month he'd picked up a kid from somewhere. By All That Was Good Mi'ir swon that he was his cousin, "And seventeen too." even though he and the brat, what was his name now . . . Shadow? Something ridiculous like that, looked absolutely nothing alike. The kid did however, look the age he claimed to be. But the incessant chatter, singing, arguments and lack of morals those two displayed had the knight wishing he could kill them. Would be fun.
The group were walking their steady way through a wood and Mordokai found his mind dwelling on the best way to remove the irksome pair from his life forever. He was pulled from one particularly delightful death scenario by the brats' sensitive ears. "There's something happening out there." he called before running like the truly naive idiot that he was towards the fields that lay beyond the safety of the woods. That idiot bard followed him. He was tempted to walk on, leave the two to their fate, but he wanted to see how they'd get themselves killed. He hoped they'd do something blessfully moronic.
Instead the brat was just standing there, lurking terrified in the last shadows that hid him from sight with the innocence ripped from his face; the bard pulled desparately at his arms so he could hide the awful massacre from the child's eyes but Shadow was unmoving. Mi'ir was panicking and as Mordokai approached, mild curiousity showing on his face Shadow finally looked away. Horror in his deadened eyes he merely looked at the knight, his face asking the question he couldn't speak. "It's bandits brat, best to keep on moving. Nothing we can do anyway." He moved away from the pair and tried to walk away. The bard had left the kid and had seized onto his arm. "Help them! Somehow! You can't just leave these people to be killed."
"There's nothing to be done for them. Noone will survive. It's none of my concern." he said leadenly. Screams and tears trickled up from the village and the kid winced as the high pitched screams of children added a petrifying harmony to the murderous orchestra. Inwardly the knight winced. Mi'ir had a soft spot for children. The bards eyes shone with unshed tears and he stepped away from him. He drew his seldom used sword and began the inexorable walk to the village and death. Silently the kid fell in, awkwardly drawing out the sword he'd drawn only a few score times before in practice. The words the bard spoke in a harsh voice so unlike his normal one made the knight wince openly, shock on his face "They can't be ignored! Those tears are the tears of the innocent!"

Characters:
Mordokai
Cristo
Thes
Shadow

Blood and Rain

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'Tears of the innocent!' The accusatory words rang in his ears. He blinked. He'd never thought Mi'ir would have the temerity to rebuke him like that; in fact, By All That Was Good he'd never thought Mi'ir would have done it. "That bloody bard's certainly got a gift for the rhetoric." he mumbled under his breath to the backs advancing towards the village.
He didn't move from the area. He just leant against a tree and argued with himself and his conscience. DIstantly, in the echoes of his childhood he heard a child's laughter. "I'm going to regret this." Rising fluidly to his feet he slunk off like a chastised dog in search of the two idiots. I bet they're not even using cover he thought to himself.
Leaving the safety of the cover afforded by the forest he just gazed at the morons who called themselves his troupe. "What?" The enterprising new heroes were all but charging down the gentle incline on their non - existant horses; charging straight into certain doom.
Mordokai cast his experienced eye over the battlefield. And allowed his taut posture to relax minutely. For Good or Bad the raid on the village was nearly over. He could see what he thought to be the whole band of raiders riding or walking back to the lurking growth to the west of their village. Fortunately for Shadow, Mi'ir and himself that was the exact opposite to where they were.
But; what was good for them was not good for the village. And that, he thought to himself privately, was a horrifying image.
In all his years of travelling as a knight he'd never seen such ravaged places. At least, never a place that wasn't the site of a cataclysmic battle. This.
This . . .
It was sickening. He had to approach though. Evaluate the damage.
He shook his head sadly. Normally he avoided officials, especially the Martial Officials, but this would have to be reported. It was like one of the Fukai Moriin had attacked. And it would have had to have been one over three hundred years old. In fact, he'd have sworn on the Altar that this was what had happened if he hadn't - couldn't - see the perpetrators leaving the scene of their depravity.
Shuddering inwardly, he approached. The tension in his body ringing through the air.

Mi'ir was scared. He'd seen bloodshed before. He'd walked the fields of battles and witnessed the carnages that lurk in the deepest forests. The children were scattered like jigsaw pieces cast about in a fury. Little broken pieces of the world of this unnamed village.
Fitting them with the families is impossible now. Too many of the adults were mutilated by identification by the bandits' ferocity. The worst were the older children, scarely into adulthood and the mothers and fathers crouching over the bodies of some cherished infant.
Shadow was barely older than one young girl huddled against a wall cradling a babe in her arms. Oh, By All That Is Lyrical. She was barely thirteen. And her young face was obliterated by some kind of a mace. He couldn't look at the babe she'd died trying to save.
It was heartbreaking.
Shadow clung to the back of his shirt like a toddler. He pressed his forehead to Mi'irs' back and he began to feel wet warmth seep through his shirt and onto his skin. The ladling was crying.
He felt like crying too.
"The sky should be crying. This blood deserves the tears of heaven. Why won't it rain?" He nodded. Words had left his silver - tongue. Tarnished by the site before him.
That little babe carried by a youngling.
"It should rain and wash this away."

JIbar will appear in the next one.

[Cristo Meyers]

ya know, usually seeing one of my characters act so wildly out of character is a pet peeve of mine, but this just works so well (and I'm just getting such a huge kick out of this bizzaro-Mordokai) that I honestly am enjoying it.

Don't stop, madame, I want to see this one go on for a long time

[Raistlin1040]

What? No, of course I haven't been obsessed with the Doors album Strange Days. That's preposterous.

Also I took creative license with you, Cobra. Sorry >.<

Warning, fluff, cheese, and unhappiness ahead.
Unhappy Girl: Raistlin/RHL

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I've just been feeling so...so trapped recently. Like I'm in a prison or something. RabbitHoleLost said to Raistlin. He nodded, like he always did. It's what he did, he listened to people's problems. He liked to make people feel better by being their venting space, the one person they could always tell everything to.

Care to elaborate? Raistlin asked politly.

It's just that I feel empty. There's nothing worth getting up in the morning for. Well, except Cobra of course. Raistlin brushed a hair from his eyes, inwardly rolling his eyes. There was something he didn't like about the snake, not that he'd ever say anything. The two chatted some more, and then she gave him a hug, thanking him for listening. She left to go home.

Raistlin went back to his dorm room. He could never sleep after talking with her. She made him think, about people, about life, and he could never put it aside for something as wasteful as sleep. Finally, at about 3 in the morning, he managed to force himself to rest.

He woke up a few hours later. He flipped open his phone to check the time. It was almost 7:30, he had a test in 15 minutes. He was about to run off to class, when he noticed the little "Unread Message" sign at the bottom corner. He opened his text inbox.

I need to talk to you. Can you come over?

-Rabbit

He frowned. That was odd. She knew he hated texting. Still, he sent back a quick text in the affirmative, figuring that he could just skip the test. After all, what possible applications could Advanced Calc. ever have for someone who wanted to be a doctor? He grabbed his car and drove over to RabbitHoleLost's house, letting himself in.

Rabbit? You here? He asked loudly.

I-I'm in the living room. Came a quiet answer. Raistlin went into the living room, to see RabbitHoleLost sitting on her couch, her eyes red.

What's the matter? He asked, concerned.

He...he broke up with me. Cobra broke up with me Rairai. She said, looking on the verge of tears. He walked over to the couch and sat down, putting his arm around her.

Wanna tell me about it? He asked.

...No. I don't wanna ruin your day. She replied.

He pulled her into a hug. It won't ruin my day. Promise.

He just...called me this morning, and said that...he just didn't think it was working out. She sniffed, fresh tears flowing from her eyes. He continued to hold her. A moment later, he let her go, and looked at her.

You can't believe what it does to me. To see you sad, to see you cry, it kills me. She blinked, confused.

You're my best friend. Don't cry, please. He wiped away the remnants of her tears, and gently kissed her forehead, like a friend comforting a friend.

And he stayed there, all day on the couch, supporting her, being her person she could tell everything to. It was a shame he couldn't do the same for her. But she didn't need that. She didn't need the drama it would cause. So he kept quiet. He still loved her though. Always would.

[Cobra_Ikari]

v.v

...makes me sad. *snuggles Rabbitloves*