Harnel Mithar ni'Therishein Dinner Invitation, Part 1
Spoiler
*stuff*
This was a good introduction to the kind of conditions Harnel lived in before he came to the Nexus. I'm looking forward to the next part.
Quote:
Originally Posted by happyturtle
Willow "Salixtra" Warwick Control
Spoiler
*stuff*
I thought this story was a pretty fun one, there's not really anything I find wrong with it.
So, I decided to retcon the Operative's background a lot. Please leave any criticism you can think of.
Also, this story's quite a bit longer than my previous one.
The Operative Patient Interview 1
Spoiler
"Today, I start the first of my sessions with Mr. Merrick Hayes, confirmed psychic, convicted of multiple counts of hostage execution, espionage, and treason. This man, according to the others that have tried to work with him, is incurable. I, for one, don't think that's true. No man is truly incurable, just a greater challenge. I think my record will speak for myself, and Mr. Hayes's future." Dr. Oakley placed his digital reocorder onto his desk, just as he heard a few sets of footsteps, accompanied by the sound of chains, approaching the door to his office. Instead of a knock on the door, though, the door was flung open.
"Prisoner #735471, ready for your session," The guard said, pushing the other man forward. This other man was thin and gaunt from malnourishment, and had a ball and chain attached to his ankle as well as a heavy pair of handcuffs. He still managed to have the look of someone who was very dangerous in his calm face and black eyes, though. Oakley had to admit that he was a little unsettled by the look in those eyes.
"You can go," he said, gesturing to the guard. The guard looked a little shocked, but went to stand just outside of the door. As soon as he closed the door, Dr. Oakley turned back to the prisoner and laid his hands on the desk. "Do you know who I am, Mr. Hayes?"
"You are Doctor Charles Oakley, the latest psychologist assigned to work with me." Merrick's voice was cold and monotonic. "I assume you've had a look at my file?"
"Yes," Dr. Oakley said, further chilled by that voice. This was going to be difficult. "I think we'll start these sessions with you recounting the events that brought you here."
"You have my trial records, Doctor. Is this necessary?" Another strange thing about Merrick was the way he stared forward, never wavering as he spoke, almost never blinking. He seemed to look through Oakley rather than at him.
"Oh, very necessary, Mr. Hayes. Your opinion is just as important as the facts." Oakley's voice was a sharp contrast to Merrick's. He was attempting to be a little friendly. Merrick was not.
"My opinions are fact," Merrick said, barely moving at all. Not even the chains on him made any noise.
"All the same, humor me." Oakley was starting to see the reasoning behind what his colleagues said about Hayes, but his confidence was insofar unshaken.
Merrick stared forward and remained still for almost a minute, then he said, "Fine. Hostilities between India and Pakistan were erupting once more..."
Merrick was the last to fully suit up and board the helicopter. As usual, all the other SAS members stared at him.
"Hayes, do you really need to wear that gas mask on a diplomatic assignment?" Coutts said, glaring at Merrick.
"You don't know how long this will remain diplomatic. These are orcs we're talking about." Merrick took his seat on the helicopter and resumed his normal position of staring forward and not moving.
Coutts sighed and muttered to the man next to him. Merrick paid little attention, as he was already reading the thoughts of most of the people on the transport. Coutts was wondering why Merrick was even on the chopper, and the other soldiers were mostly feeling their usual contempt towards him, because he was 'strange' or something like that. The Pakistani prisoner was afraid of him. Almost as if they didn't know how essential he was.
Merrick looked straight at their hostage. The Pakistani orc twitched a little. Merrick had to admit that it was a little enjoyable to watch someone twice their size squirm like that. But then, anyone would do that after seeing firsthand exactly what he could do with an ice pick. Now remember, Merrick sent to the orc, you tell anyone why you have those stab wounds and the inside of this helicopter is the last thing you see. In response, the orc just took a few deep breaths.
"ETA to Karachi, three hours," the pilot (and curiously, the only one completely shielded from Merrick's mind reading,) said. "Try to get along until then."
Execuloths are a kind of daemon with the appearance of a humanoid with a second set of arms, a stingered tail, small hooves, and horns; they are born winged but most females are de-winged at birth.
In the Ashen Expanse, one year is 13 months; one month is 4 weeks; one week is 8 days (Primarise, Duorise, Triarise, Tetrarise, Pentarise, Hexarise, Heptarise, Octarise); Heptarise and Octarise make up the weekend.
Tsiln Incident 9985
Spoiler
This personal journal has been confiscated and classified; access is denied under Level Ayin (L16) clearance. Any individual reading any page other than this warning without the required clearance will face immediate review and impending consumption.
N.B.: Dates have been excised and replaced with "Pertinent Entry" (PE) labels.
Peritent Entries begin a certain time before Incident 9985 so as to supply a context.
==========================
PE.1
Mating season has begun again, and my name came up in the roll call---looks like I'll have to accept this year. Last time the male (not expecting to remember his name, really) gave me a rather nice book, so maybe I'll be lucky again this year.
The office has felt so weighty these days---that's what I'm writing this for, after all, since I was advised to use this as an outlet for stress.
I'd really rather prefer letting out stress in some more social way, but once I'm carrying another clutch I'll only have a few weeks before I'm stuck at home.
That reminds me: I've been meaning to get a pet; I suppose I'll need one once I'm frantic and bound to my apartment again. So glad Liache allowed me to borrow her elf girl last time, or I don't know how I would have managed.
I'll get on the pet issue this weekend; for now I'll enjoy a quiet Pentarise evening of tea and a book (am I supposed to have books taken from other planes? Still not sure, but it can't hurt to keep them).
---
PE.2
I've just purchased my pet! Her name is Tsan (it's a little like mine!) and I think she is great; her hair and eyes are such a nice, vibrant green, and so are the lines on her skin! She says she likes books too and there's basically no way we aren't going to be best friends.
I'm going to stop writing about her and get on with getting to know her!
~
It's almost bedtime and I'm so happy to have bought Tsan today.I've never had someone as interested in foreign books as I am living with me! She's actually already asleep right now, and it's nice to know that I'll have my new friend nestled close next to me. Also, I have just noticed that she smells of some sort of fruit. Not the rather dull kind we have here, but the kind grown in other planes. I think it is kiwi.
---
PE.3
Mating season is just about the least spectacular thing ever; I don't care how energetic I'm feeling, I'd be pretty listless with the strange weighty feeling around the office if I didn't have Tsan at home. That and the males---the squabbling and posturing is such a joke.
I'll be picking one of the quieter ones as usual. They are usually quite nice about this whole mess, and it'd be great to get another book...
I'd rather not have to do this, though.
---
PE.4
I've been off this journal for a while, but I might as well get back into writing in it.
I suppose I'll note that today I fulfilled my mating obligation with a fairly quiet, pleasant male named Ossen. Coffee afterwards was a nice touch on his part.
Well, now comes the wait. I really do hope he brings a good host when the time comes... not much to do now but put in a good effort for the next few weeks, then ride out the remaining homebound time with tea and reading and my pet.
This won't be all that bad, I suppose.
The beginning chapterthingies are sort of domestic and slow, but it'll pick up.
Submission-in-Adversity-Brings-Peace ("Missy") Halifax Heart, part 1
Spoiler
"Go to your bosom: Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know."
- William Shakespeare
Submission Halifax, 8 years old, sat in a line with three other children her age. It was their anointing day. Her heart pounded and she clutched at the skirt of her new dress, wrinkling the fabric as her hands balled up in fists. She was nervous about standing up in front of the congregation, and nervous about the anointing. She was afraid the Prophet would see into her heart and find out about the girl at school that she had punched because she was bullying the special ed kids, but it didn't matter that the other girl was a bully, because violence was wrong and Submission had been wrong to do it. But it didn't seem right to just let the bully keep hurting people and -
"Corriane Baxter."
Submission was glad that her name didn't come at the start of the alphabet. The first girl to be anointed was called up, and Missy watched carefully, making sure she would know where to step and what to do.
"Please, Prophet, I just want to be good."
"Honour Laforest."
Honour didn't seem nervous at all as he went through the service. Submission leaned over to Corriane who was just now taking her seat, "Do you feel different?" she whispered. Corriane shook her head no.
"Submission-in-Adversity-Brings-Peace Halifax."
Submission swallowed hard and went to the front, stepping carefully into the ring of flowers around the altar. She put her hands on the Book, and looked up into Pastor Michael's eyes.
"Please please please make me stop wanting to fight."
"Submission Halifax, we bid you to follow the precepts of the Prophets and the scriptures: to show compassion, kindness, and mercy to all beings, friend or foe; to lift no hand in violence and to turn the other cheek when violence is offered to you; to keep fellowship with your fellow members of the Order; and to spread light and friendship wherever you journey takes you. Do you vow to make this your practice?"
Missy's voice shook as she answered "I so vow."
Pastor Michael dipped his fingers into a bowl of water and drew the infinity symbol on her forehead. "Let the Prophet's light fill your heart, Sister Submission. Welcome to the Sacred Order of Cunningham."
She stood there a moment, realizing it was just as Corianne said. She felt exactly the same as she had a moment ago. No, she didn't. She felt much much worse. She'd hoped for a miracle, and none had come.
Was she really anointed? Maybe the Prophet hadn't accepted her. Maybe his light hadn't filled her heart.
"Vanessa Savik..."
Missy returned to her seat, bowing her head in prayer. "Please Prophet. Didn't you hear me? I'm anointed now. You're supposed to fix me. Please. I want to be good."
"Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one's weakness. It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart."
- Mahatma Gandhi
"Faith is a knowledge within the heart, beyond the reach of proof."
- Khalil Gibran
“Jarjom, you’re crazy.” The pair of grigs looked at the sleeping form, a female spider grig, surprisingly shapely. Her eight legs curled up slightly around her, her fair arms wrapped around some strands of the web.
Jarjom, a handsome cricket grig, looked on from the nearby tree. “Are you kidding me, Hehlen? A long as she doesn’t know that it was us, we have nothing to fear. We can go in, throw down an illusion, turn her pink, be gone, and no one will be the wiser.”
“Are you kidding? That girl is dangerous to even be around! You know Chechmet?”
“Yeah, nice guy.”
“She was a girl last year.”
“Really? That… actually, that explains a lot. What did he… she do to annoy Vriveka?”
“Nothing. Vriveka offered her a hug, and now she’s a he.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. The stories about her genderbending whole clearings of people as they sleep? Totally true. She got me once, and I would still be a girl to this day if I wasn’t a transformation specialist myself.”
“Is that why you’re so andro-"
“No. Shut up.”
“Look, what does it matter? As long as she doesn’t find it was us, she’ll never know.”
“But what if she DOES find out? She’s done all kinds of crazy things. Bonemend now has her bones on the outside, Woodcall is unable to leave her hole because her abdomen is too big…"
“I thought Woodcall was a sylph…”
“She is. Minmear used to be a grig-“
“Minmear is a… nymph thing, isn’t she?”
“She was after Vriveka was done with her! And that’s just the people that we know; I’ve heard about people that were turned into full insects-full insects!”
“Wait, seriously? I didn’t- I didn’t think she could effect the mind-”
“She can’t. They were still sentient.”
“That-”
“And that’s just her old work! She’s getting more creative, altering things further form the norm, making… abominations!”
“Okay, now you-”
“I’m not even kidding. You remember Lakevein?”
“…vaguely?”
“TENTACLES! Vriveka replaced her wings with tentacles! I’ve been working to undo it!”
“It’s been, like, months…”
“Eight months. Eight months, and I’m only half done. Her work is top notch! I don’t even know how she managed to do it, but those tentacles are magic resistant! That’s only supposed to be done by enchanters! She manages to fake it with Fleshwarping! That’s impossible on so many levels!”
“Look, we are going to do this.”
“No! No we aren’t!”
“We are going to do this because you know, deep inside yourself, that it’ll be worth seeing Vriveka with a hot pink abdomen.”
A long, long pause.
Hehlen nods. “Let’s be fast. Maybe her tracking method won’t work if we’re fast enough…”
The two of them awoke the next morning, sharing the body of an elvish cat with feathery wings.
I'm just linking this old post of Magtok's here, because it's awesome and I want it indexed. If you haven't read it, go read. Is good!
It's good, but to be honest such... I don't kno what to call it, internal monologues? Aren't my cup of tea.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Rotting Baron
The Operative Patient Interview 1
Spoiler
*snip*
An interesting setup. I'm eager to find out more.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Beans
Tsiln Incident 9985
Spoiler
*snip*
It's pretty good, but I feel like we're missing some context here. Maybe it'll be explained later, though.
Quote:
Originally Posted by happyturtle
Submission-in-Adversity-Brings-Peace ("Missy") Halifax Heart, part 1
Spoiler
*snip*
I like it. Poor Missy. No wonder she grew up so riddled with insecurity.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lost_Deep
Vriveka They Call Her Psycho
Spoiler
*snip*
Hmm. Pure dialogue is interesting to read. Pretty amusing too, even thought I'm unfamiliar with the characters.
Also, I'm thinking than inbetween Inherit the Earth or after finishing it I could write some history of the world Dipsnig, Wenomir, Dorota, Reelshka, Brinika and the Underside goblins come from... but I'm afraid those stories would make little sense without context.
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My FFRP characters. Avatar by Kid Kris. Sigatars by Gulaghar, Kid Kris, Zefir and billtodamax, respectively.
Submission-in-Adversity-Brings-Peace ("Missy") Halifax Heart, part 2
Spoiler
"We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey."
- Kenji Miyazawa
Missy is in the hospital, sedated but dreaming, as hands remove her ruined clothes and wash her burnt body. In her dreams, there are memories of other hands touching her. Her mother's hands, dressing her as a child. The surgeon who implanted her cybernetics. Her drill sergeant. Her first lover. Magtok. Javert. Tarin. Latas. Divaonar. Enemies on the battlefield. Civilians she'd rescued. Healers putting her together afterwards.
One set of hands she'd only felt from the inside, during the last few weeks of her pregnancy as her baby fought for space.
"I never saw your hands," Missy says mournfully. She's speaking to a dark skinned androgynous child with indistinct features. "They'd be so big now."
The child shrugs, and runs away, like it always does in her dreams. Then the scene shifts to the hospital, the moment of pure joy as she heard her child crying for the first time. She puts her arms out, expecting her child to be placed in them, only to hear the cries grow fainter. A door closes.
"It's better this way, Submission. Your child deserves a proper home, and you're much too young," her mother says. It takes some time for the words to sink in, but when they do, she screams, and tries to get out of the bed, despite her feet being in stirrups. Her baby needs her. They're taking her baby.
"The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that - a parent's heart bared, beating forever outside its chest."
- Debra Ginsberg
There was the moment when she stopped fighting, a few weeks later. It was when she realized her milk was drying up. It was the only thing she'd had to offer her child that the adoptive mother couldn't do better.
You'll always be in my heart, my beloved, my angel, my treasured one. I let you go, to give you a better life, but I never stopped loving you for a single minute. You're in my heart, forever, for always.
The indistinct child only waves, then runs away.
"Love is not written on paper, for paper can be erased. Nor is it etched on stone, for stone can be broken. But it is inscribed on a heart and there it shall remain forever."
-Unknown
IIt's pretty good, but I feel like we're missing some context here. Maybe it'll be explained later, though.
I'll be trying to set the context of Execuloth culture and work and all without making it feel like an infodump.
If I fail that, I may just have to have a separate infodump, but I'd really rather not.
I think that in the hands of literally anyone else the famous quotes interspersed with the backstory would have come across as trite and hokey. It's a testament to your skill that you manage to make it actually work.
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Quote:
Originally Posted by IronStylus (on boobplates)
I still consider myself a feminist despite having a biological attraction to certain parts of female anatomy and the desire to now and again see plate metal curvaceously wrapping around their sensual forms in a cradle of cold, sumptuous, steel.
My parents dying left me in a bad spot. Both of them were only children whose parents had died by the time I was born. I had no other family. So, I became just another child in the system. The government stuck me in the local orphanage.
Looking back, it wasn't too bad. I mean...I had a bed, food daily, and shelter. But, at that point, I was a scared, confused little girl who just lost her parents. The only people she really knew.
Needless to say, I didn't take living in an orphanage too well. I became moody and distant. Kept lashing out at the other kids. The appearance of my Kinetic abilities during this time didn't help at all. Just gave me another tool to lash out with.
Technically, they couldn't just kick me out. But, nobody really wanted to adopt me. And I made them miserable. So, the staff did the same. They tried to isolate me from the others. Didn't bring me out when prospective parents came by.
Eight years of this really did a number on me. Shortly after turning sixteen, I snuck out to try to make it on my own. I figured I could do way better on my own than living there.
Boy, was I wrong.
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Ivaz dressed as Bomb Queen done by myself.
Quotes and goodies:
Spoiler
Quote:
This isn't like the Loch Ness Monster or leprechauns. This is something I have to see to believe.
Meant to post this here a bit ago, and while I know it's Inside, I believe it should still get here too. I have more posts like this that I'll move over here in time too.
Captain Jefferies groaned as she sits up from the busted boards. She attempts to use her the hoverboots on her Hot Suit to help her up, but they just fizzle out, killed off by falling through the floor. With a mental curse, she finally gets herself back to her feet and grips the fireaxe in her hands. A warning light appears on her HUD, telling her that one of the coolant tanks om her back was leaking, making her task that much harder.
On her feet, she takes a half-second to look herself over. The painted flame motifs that covered her legs were charring, telling her just how hot she was at the moment, but the image of the naked men(an orc and elf) engaging in intimacy on her chestplate was untouched, telling her that it wasn't too hot yet. Looking at her arms, she sighs when she sees one of the nozzles for the extinguisher sprayers is smashed, useless. It'd been a rough landing for sure, but at least one worked still.
She takes a quick moment to spray her surroundings (84% Capacity Left) before moving through her floor, taking it slow to make sure that she could find the people who needed saving. Unfortunately, most she saw were already gone. Shot or consumed by the flames, nothing she could do. As she walked through the creaking building, she couldn't help but wonder why she did this in the first place.
Was it for glory? No. She thought to herself with a shake of her head as she abandoned yet another lost charred room. Glory was just the word adrenaline junkies and naive eager fools used to explain the rush they felt. Looking for Glory was something that would get you killed. So if that wasn't it, why did she join up? She didn't know the answer yet and felt that she probably never would.
Before Remnant came along, she and her comrades had been left with nothing more than cloth heatshielding, firetrucks and handheld extinguishers for the most part. Anything special came out of their own pocket. The Hot Suits were a blessing to them. It allowed them to do so much mor-
Captain Jefferies stops her remembrances as she notices a little form, wrapped in a civvie issue fireblanket. She didn't see what it was, just that it was breathing, and that was reason enough. Looking around, she spots two adult orcs, shot through the head near the window and probably the little bundle's parents. "Captain Jefferies. Found life. Hot suit damaged, so I have to take the long way down.
"Hustle it up. Roof is getting unstable. 3rd Floor is clean. Four living have been evacuated to the Field Hospital. 15 dead from smoke and gunshots." Jyarl replies.
"Roger that."
With that, the Captain picks up the bundle and begins to walk down the hall as she keep an eye out. Her suit warns her that only 30% of her coolant remains, but that doesn't worry her too badly, so she lets the back of her mind wander over her reasons a little more.
Unlike many, she knows she didn't join the Firefighters to be a hero. Anyone could be a hero here, and that didn't take any special skills or wants or needs in order to do so. With apocalypses every day, being a hero only amounted to being able to survive to Next Tuesday. She begins to get a small feeling about what her reason might have been when she hears a crack above her, making her pay attention to her surroundings once more. "-llapsing! Get out of the way!" Jyarl shouts over the comms. Looking up in shock as an iron beam falls through the ceiling, she finally realizes what the reason was.
She joined the firefighters for the futility of the task.
Anyone could be a Hero or Glory Hound, letting them feel like they're accomplishing something when they're really doing nothing at all, but it was different when you recognized the uselessness of the task well beforehand, but still chose to do it. The child in her arms was likely to die a horrible and terrible death some time, be it in ten minutes or ten years or ten decades. Everyone here was, and none of it mattered in the grand scheme of things. A single life didn't make a difference to this world. A Million lives wouldn't have made a difference either. Fate was a cruel Mistress to each and everyone.
But Captain Jefferies chose this job because it allowed her to spit in Fate's face at every turn. To snatch people from her clawed fingers and allow them to live just a bit longer as she faced Fate's fury alone, accumulating a Karmic debt that would be sure to kill her sooner rather than later. Feeling that the Karmic Debt decided to call itself in, she decided to make one last "futile" action.
She leaned back.
The action caused the beam to barely miss the child in her arms and allowed it to slam right into her pelvis, slamming her through the floor, through the next, and into the basement, crushing a significant portion of her before finally stopping. She lets out a scream of bloodcurdling agony as pain washes over her. The only reason she doesn't pass out is from the massive dose of painkillers and stimulants that get pumped into her, forcing her to stay awake and look at her ravaged body. Even though the child appeared safe in her arms, she can't help but continue to cry out on the open commlink, letting everyone hear until it's cut off.
"Comm Override: Jefferies to Major Jyarl only." Jyarl demands of the system, making it so he's the only one who can hear. "Jefferies, this is me. I'm here and on the way. Try to breathe. You took a hard hit but you aren't down so talk to me, understand?!? That's a Throne-Damned order!" He asks as he leaps down the hole to land by her side. He sees the cracked helmet of the Captain's Hot Suit turn to him and hears her ragged sobs. He doesn't have to look her over to know she won't make it. He kneels down next to her torso and makes his helmet slide back to show his true face, revealing uncharacteristic concern and worry.
"P-Put your helmet back-k-k o-" She tries to tell him, but he shakes his head and gives her a small smile. "I'll be okay. Just stay with me, okay? You'll be fine tomorrow. I promise. Just keep talking. Help is on the way." He assures her, not knowing if any help was really on the way or not. Reaching up, he presses her helmet's tab, making it slide back to let her breathe easier. The Captain is sobbing in pain. "P-Please don't let me die, s-sir. I don't want to leave home." She begs, looking into Jyarl's eyes.
The Major can't help but feel tears form, but he runs a hand along her cheek to try and keep her calm in what they both knew were her last moments. "It'll be okay, I promise. Just hang on for a bit longer. They're almost here." He tells her even though they both know it's bull****. The Captain gives a final sobbing breath before looking at him seriously. "Rites, please." She begs of the man, surprising him.
Jyarl wasn't a priest, hell, he was probably more of an atheist than anything else, but he wasn't going to refuse a dying woman's request. Shifting on his knees, he takes her head gently in his hands as he begins to speak what few words he can think of that might be appropriate. "The God-Empe-" He starts, only to be stopped by Jefferies shaking her head. "I-I want them to know." The Major pauses, trying to figure out what she meant, but gives a nod when he figures it out. He activates his helmet halfway and activates the public comm again before looking down at her. Those on the surface deserved to know. She looks back up gratefully, looking into the sockets of the skull faceplate that gazes down upon her.
"The God-Emperor of Mankind smiles down upon thee, knowing that thou hast done him and all life the greatest service and sacrifice. There shalt be none greater than thee in this dark hour against the forces of entropy and so shall your soul join those others that have offered themselves up to be honored for all eternity. Your soul has been found to be the most pure and worthy of all of us, so thou shall ascend to the heavens above to bask in the greatest of Blisses, Honor, and Glories till the end of days have come and gone..." He speaks to her and over the Comm as the temperature begins to rise in the basement as more of the building starts to burn and come down around them.
"Have you committed any heresies that you believe may bar your soul from entering its rightful afterlife?" He asks of her softly, cradling her head gently. She gives the Major a slight smile."Dozens. But none that matter."
Jyarl can't help but give a choking-sobbing-almost laugh and smiles back down at her, tears running down his face. "I hereby absolve you of your wrong-doings and bless you. You have honored us all in your service and duties. In return, we shall honor you for as long as this world lives. Is this suitable?"
The Captain doesn't answer, her body having fallen limp halfway through the question.
With a bowed head, Jyarl closes her eyes and picks up the child from lifeless arms before making his way out of the building.
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Wolfy Tango by the talented Kid Kris
Starting August 4th, I will be without internet for possibly a very long time. Please PM me if there are any questions for me, but do not expect an answer for weeks at a time. Thank you for your patience.
This next one is an Alt-Fiction, but the Alt-Fiction thread is dead, so it'll go here.
(Spoilered for violence)
Failing Life
Outbreak: Part 1
Spoiler
To most, it was the end of the Multiverse. With how it felt, it may as well have been literally. It all started in Lots of Hope, three days ago. 97% of the population of Inside and the known Orgs had been lost, either Thralled, killed, or fled within that time. Patient Zero's name was never known.
Three days ago, at Lots of Hope Hospital...
"Get out of the way!" Cantal, an ambulance driver, shouts as he and his team rush through the hallways with the stretcher as they try to get to the ER as quickly as possible. One of the doctors, known as Cutter, runs up to the stretcher side as he shoves past others to check the patient's pulse. "What the hell happened?"
The driver shakes his head. "No clue. We were on another call when we saw this guy suddenly fall to his knees and start screaming. Kept shouting something about how he could hear "Them". We had to sedate him just to be able to get him on the stretcher. Thinking Sudden Ability Development or the like if he's simply not sick or "hearing" thin-" He's cut off when the patient begins to thrash about and scream, struggling against the leather restraints. "God-Damn it! I thought you said he was sedated!!!" Cutter shouts before slugging the patient as hard as possible, knocking him out cold.
"He was! Doped him up on Ketamine." Cutter looks at the man in disbelief as they finally push open the door to the ER, where a team was waiting. "Ketamine?!? If he sure as hell wasn't hallucinating before, he damn well is now. And his heart rate's spiking. You thought it'd help?!? Get out of here before you make things worse!"
The driver, shocked, leaves the room, unaware that he'd be experiencing the same thing in a couple hours. But instead with no one to help him when the agony comes.
One of the nurses looks over the patient and frowns beneath her mask as Cutter scrubs up. "What the hell happened to his face? You didn't hit another one, did you?" Cutter just chuckles, a bit embarrassed. "Sorry, had to. He was gonna break the bonds." He says, gesturing to the torn leather. At the sight, the nurse lets out a low whistle before adding a couple metal cuffs. "Alright, let's prep him."
Cutter makes sure to give the man another sedative, something to try and calm his heart from the Ketamine, as the nurses hook him up to monitoring equipment. He watches as the heartbeat slows and lets out a deep breath before nodding to an aide. "Scissors." He asks, and once they're given, he begins cutting off the clothing slowly. Halfway through, he blinks. "What the hell is that?" He asks, gesturing towards what looked like a ruby in the man's abdomen, a red crystal poking through the skin. "Any of you seen something like that before?"
No one gives a nod or an affirmative, so Cutter can't help but poke it with the tip of the pair of scissors. When he does so, it doesn't yield and a thin black line in it seems to squirm. "I...I think it's living." He says as he hears the heart monitor pick up the pace. When he turns to look, the human body on the stretcher sits up suddenly with a roar, snapping the bonds as he delivers a punch to Cutter's jaw, knocking him back and into the wall, dazing him. Several of the aides scream and a pair of half-orc orderlies try to hold him down. "He's berzerking!" One shouts right before the patient's mouth stretches open inhumanly, letting out a deep red cloud onto the pair, making them cough and lose consciousness in his arms.
Dropping them, the man leaps out of the bed in time for one of the nurses to stab him in the chest with a scalpel. Patient Zero doesn't flinch and the blade draws blackened blood. His hand snaps out and grabs her by the neck, and he starts to open his mouth once more, but stops, looking closer at her. Unlike the others, she was mostly cybernetic, nearly a full fledged android.
She was useless.
With a growl, he grips her head and gives a vicious twist, ripping it from her body and tossing it aside as he strolls out, into the hospital proper and leaving a crumpled Cutter against the wall...
__________________
Wolfy Tango by the talented Kid Kris
Starting August 4th, I will be without internet for possibly a very long time. Please PM me if there are any questions for me, but do not expect an answer for weeks at a time. Thank you for your patience.
I'm just linking this old post of Magtok's here, because it's awesome and I want it indexed. If you haven't read it, go read. Is good!
As I already said, it's awesome. Magtok writes good stuff. And this reminds me, people who have previously written story form stuff that's gotten buried in old threads, repost it here!
Quote:
Originally Posted by Rotting Baron
The Operative Patient Interview 1
Spoiler
*snip*
This interests me and I want to read more.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Beans
Tsiln Incident 9985
Spoiler
*snip*
The beginning chapterthingies are sort of domestic and slow, but it'll pick up.
I like this. Nicely alien.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lost_Deep
Vriveka They Call Her Psycho
Spoiler
*snip*
Delightful. Does delightful actually work for this story? I think so. It's delightfully cruel.
Quote:
Originally Posted by KerfuffleMach2
Memories - Part 2
Spoiler
*snip*
Dun dun DUN?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Wolfbane
Meant to post this here a bit ago, and while I know it's Inside, I believe it should still get here too. I have more posts like this that I'll move over here in time too.
Very nice, Wolfy. I'm not all that familiar with the characters in question, but good writing nonetheless.
Speaking for myself, I haven't thought about Inherit the Earth for a while, but I'll probably write the third part today or tomorrow. Not sure if it'll be the last one. And I still have that alt-universe Wenomir story in Magtok's old thread, but it's not finished.
__________________
My FFRP characters. Avatar by Kid Kris. Sigatars by Gulaghar, Kid Kris, Zefir and billtodamax, respectively.
Halifax had fought the heart transplant for years. No matter what cybernetic implants she'd received, her heart had been her own. But using her wired reflexes, especially in Accelerant Mode, put a lot of strain on an organ that wasn't designed to support feats of superspeed. And then she'd gone into a burning building. Hypoxia had done further damage.
"Your heart is nearly dead. Sure, if you did paperwork for the rest of your life and never used your cybernetic enhancements again, it might live until you pass onto old age. You've abused the poor thing too much to be on active duty any more." Bugs had told her. "Unless you take the replacement, I'll be forced to put you to clerical work and deactivate your enhanced speed. I won't even be able to allow you a Reserve Status."
And so the decision was made. In an hour, she would return to sick bay and undergo the operation. She sits on a bench near a raised flower bed, where daffodils are starting to bloom.
"Prophet. I know it's stupid to think I won't be able to love if my heart is gone."
Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub.
"But I'm scared anyway."
Lub-dub.
"Please. Please, can you make it better? Can you make me not afraid?"
Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub.
"Or maybe you don't listen to me at all because I'm a soldier."
Lub-dub. Lub-dub.
"I guess... maybe this is a test. And if I was a good Arnaudin, I would keep my heart and stop fighting. But I can't do that. I can't live with myself if I let innocent people go undefended. Even if it means I'm damned."
Lub-dub.
Her prayer falls silent. She watches the daffodils flutter in the wind.
Alright. I haven't felt much inspiration for Inherit the Earth lately, so I'll make an intermission. It will also get futher parts, but after I finish Sophie's story. I hope it'll explain some stuff Dipsnig and my other goblins say to a degree.
Rise of the Prophet
Spoiler
Hundreds of years before a goblin notoriously lacking in cheer and known in the Nexus as Dipsnig Razortooth was born, his homeland looked nothing like it does now. Instead of inhabitning massive colonies dug deep into the mountains, goblins were scattered in caves all over the northern mountain range... or in Imperial slave mines. Back in those days, mankind ruled supreme, and the Empire stretched all over the continent. But it was changing; the Empire was standing on feet of clay and shaking. As wars and uprisings raged, noone really took the goblins into account; they were vermin and cheap labour, who cared that they did? They underestimated what a truly inspiring leader can do to even the most downtrodden.
The massive cavern on the lower slopes of the Dragonbone Mountain bustled with activity. Thousands of goblins filled it, having been called there by the new chieftain of the Dragonbone Tribe. They arrived in secret so as not to draw attention of the humans who, while busy with the war in their borders, would certainly not look favorably upon such a large gathering of creatures they regarded as vermin and a nuisance. They sat and stood upon every available surface and whispered frantically to each other. "They say he's crazy."
"They say he has a plan." "They say a riding wolf accepted him without being broken in."
"They say he liberated a labour camp and beat an orcish chieftain."
"They say he no longer has a shaman."
All the whispers were cut short - with abruptness that was shocking for goblins - when the one they'd been talking about came up onto a platform raised in the centre of the cave. He was a skinny runt, even for a goblin in that day and age. His skin was pale gray and he didn't have much hair. He looked at the throng of goblins before them, the pale eyes glistening in the faint light of muck lanterns. Finally, he spoke. "Brothers and sisters in the dark. I brought you here today for a purpose. I know you were afraid, afraid of what humans would do to you if they thought you were being uppity. But I want to tell you that we need not be afraid anymore."
A murmur went through the ranks of goblins. "Some of you may know me. I am Hultznim of the Dragonbone Tribe, which now consists of all goblins in this area. You may wonder how I managed to unite so many of us under one banner, and I will tell you - it is because I have aid from a higher power."
An even louder murmur. At that time, goblins worshipped petty gods of earth and rock under the guidance of their tribal shamans. Deep down, they felt like more powerful spirits or gods wouldn't listen. "Yes, you have heard right. While hiding from a human patrol in the caves, I heard a voice. It came from below, from the roots of the mountain. It belonged to the Lord Below."
Now there was just stunned silence from the goblin crowd. "He is the lord of depths and darkness, sovereign of the deep places. He had seen our suffering and hear our cries. Noone else would listen, but he did. He wishes to make the goblin race his children."
There was a burst of agitated discussion from the listeners before Hultznim's voice once again cut above the din. "I know what you're thinking - 'what's in it for us?' I wouldn't make you agree to anything if there was nothing to gain. If we let ourselves be led by the Lord Below, we will finally get back at the humans for what they're done to us."
Hultznim paused and when he spoke again, his - precisely controlled - voice was filled with venom. "We've never had much, but when they came, we lost even that. Right now, thousands of goblins toil for the benefit of the fat, pink-skinned humans in the lowlands. Thousands more are treated like vermin. We are not vermin!" He roared, and there were shouts of approval and agreement from the crowd. In his head, Hultznim breathed with relief. Looks like his method of motivating his kinsmen was working. "I won't stand for this anymore. Now that I have my new god on my side, I will show the humans what "vermin" can do."
More silence. Fight the humans? How? "Lord Below has shown me the way. The humans are fighting amongst themselves and against dwarves. Their Empire is crumbling. If we strike now, we'll hit them at their weakest, hit them where it hurts. And there's five of us for every one of them at this point. What do we have to lose?"
He could feel the growing enthusiasm among the goblin ranks. There wasn't a single one there who hasn't lost family or friends to humans. There was a lot of desire for vengeance there, lots of bitterness and venom. All he had to do was to unleash it and send in the humans' direction. "I say this to you - tomorrow I will begin gathering an army. Each and every tribal leader is welcome to swear fealty to me and bring his tribe to the horde. We will begin by liberating slave mines. Who's with me?!" He yelled, thrusting his fist upwards.
The cave resonated with the closest thing goblins can get to a battlecry.
Soon enough, tribes from all over the northern mountain range began to flock under Hultznim's and Lord Below's banner. The goblins were eager to fight for a cause, looking back only to a lifetime of slavery and fear. Those who were reluctant were... persuaded to do so anyway by the growing horde.
(To be continued.)
So, yeah. I'm basically flexing my world-builder muscles. Hope it makes a shred of sense.
Also, @Happy's latest story: Poor Missy. It's a wonder she hasn't renounced her faith again. And life just keeps throwing rocks at her.
__________________
My FFRP characters. Avatar by Kid Kris. Sigatars by Gulaghar, Kid Kris, Zefir and billtodamax, respectively.
"Oh, look, it's Red the Basket-Stabber!"
"Hey Red!"
"How's the mother? Huh?"
Dorothy Williams sighed as the teasing of the other schoolchildren rang in her ears yet again - every morning when she arrived at the village school, the points and jibes and laughter started, and even in class the occasional snickers could be heard, aimed at her and her younger sister.
Being the daughters of a weaver-woman wasn't easy.
After all, everyone knew what 'weavers' did.
The fact her father had made an 'honest woman' of her didn't stop the comments and snide remarks - after all, everyone knew you couldn't reform a 'weaver', and the fact Mr. Williams had been a mere footsoldier in the guards just added to the shaken heads, smirks, and teases. The fact that her family were the only ones in the village with red hair, another 'gift' of Ms. Williams', provided that much more fuel to the fire.
Her sister was a kind-hearted soul; in her youth, Danielle knew little of the reasons behind the torment, but she merely smiled and shook it off, like lava off the back of a Stygian Fireduck.
Dorothy wasn't as sanguine. But, for her sister's sake, she kept the pain and anger of the words of her classmates bottled up inside.
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me, she thought bitterly as she settled into her seat behind her desk in the classroom. Whoever said that clearly never had to deal with words.
More Sevet to come and definitely some opinions on everyone's stories. But for now, a bit of backstory on my latest character Alfred/Agneau.
Once upon a time...
Spoiler
There was a married couple who loved each other very much. The wife was pregnant and couldn't be happier. She was so excited about having a baby she would spend days making toys for her coming baby, for she was a seamstress, and skilled at making dolls. She didn't know whether it would be a boy or a girl, so she made dolls for both, pretty princesses and brave knights.
When her baby was finally born, she and her husband were overjoyed. He would be a big strong boy, smart and brave! But they were not the only ones overjoyed at the birth. A faerie who had been watching the couple with interest would always visit the child at night. For though the baby had hair as black as night, when the faerie was present he had hair of gold and it entranced her.
One night, a little after the baby's first year, the faerie could not stand the temptation any longer. She took the child from it's crib, and for the parents, she enchanted one of the many dolls in the child's room. Making it take the shape of the baby. It would act just like a baby for all it's days and never grow old. Perfect for the couple. With that, the baby was whisked away into the night.
__________________
Pirate Justin avatar by myself. Emmi avatar by Gulaghar, Much Thanks!
Just to let people know, this story is going to start getting darker from here. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Memories - Part 3
Spoiler
A sixteen year old kid living on the streets wasn't rare in Rembress. The city was in decline, the government was changing its policies, and people just couldn't take in stray kids anymore. Long as they didn't cause problems, nobody cared.
Course, without having any money, it's hard to get by without causing problems.
The first few weeks, I found myself in back alleys, scrounging through dumpsters for food. I don't even want to remember how many half-rotted things I ate. I had to, though. I was determined to never go back to that orphanage. A couple people would yell at me and chase me away. I learned quickly which diners had the people who actually cared about that.
I found myself sleeping mostly in any tree I could find. I tried to practice my abilities as much as I could, and I'd use them to lift myself into the branches. Helped keep the number of homeless guys trying to feel me up while I was sleeping down.
Course, I couldn't prevent it entirely...
About two months later, I was seeing just how bad of a decision I made. I could find food at least a couple times a day, but that was just enough for me to keep going. At least in the orphanage, I was fed regularly. I hadn't had a proper bath or shower since I left. I'd had to get in a couple fights to protect myself. And run when reinforcements showed up.
Simply put, I was a mess.
Now, by this point, I was desperate. I would do almost anything to gain some kind of normal life back. So, when a kind of sleezy guy came up to me one day in an alley and said he had a job for me, I listened. When he said it included housing, I jumped at it.
He took me to what looked like an abandoned warehouse towards the edge of the city. He brought me inside, took me to "my room". It was mostly bare, save for a bed, a couch, and a tub. I was kind of confused, kind of frightened. But, it was a bed. With a roof over it. I wasn't gonna say no. He told me to take a bath, and that I'd find some clothes in the little closet next to the couch. He said he'd come back in a while to discuss my job. So, soon as he left, I practically ripped my clothes off and jumped in the tub. It only had cold water, but that was fine. Better than relying on the rain.
When I was cleaned, I went to the closet, hoping to find a towel in there. I found a stack of them, as well as the clothes he mentioned. I started pulling out the clothes, and that's when my gut was finally being heard. There wasn't much to them. Tiny shorts and skirts, thongs, lacy bras, and shirts that could barely be called such. I tried to find the most conservative combo I could. I may have been a teen still, but I had started to develop before I even left the orphanage.
Not much later, the man came back. Slate was his name. He was a smooth-talker. The kind of guy that could talk you into giving him your pants, cleaned and ironed, without ever realizing it.
So, he sat me down on the couch and started his routine. In hindsight, what he said was probably a well rehearsed speech he gave to all the girls and young women he "employed" at that place. But, at that moment...it felt like he was doing this just for me. Like he was actually looking out for me. He reassured me that I would only have to sleep with maybe a guy a week, and that I wouldn't really be doing much beyond oral. He made it fell...well, like it was okay. Just a temporary thing. Maybe a couple weeks, and I'd have enough cash to be out on my own again.
By Eram, I hate youthful stupidity.
I'll give the man credit. He eased me into it. It was a little while before I started noticing that I was doing way more than what he promised. But, by then...I couldn't get out. Because...as horrible as the stuff I was doing was...I had a room. I had food. It was better than not knowing when or where my next meal would be. Or where I might be able to get at least a nap. And the dangers that were present were ones that I knew and expected. Not the unknown of the alleys in the city.
Plus, I was afraid of what Slate could and would do if I took off.
For the next two years, I slowly died inside. I wasn't your average eighteen year old woman. Not by a long shot.
Maybe that's what gave one of my regulars the idea to recruit me for some new military project that was happening...
__________________
Ivaz dressed as Bomb Queen done by myself.
Quotes and goodies:
Spoiler
Quote:
This isn't like the Loch Ness Monster or leprechauns. This is something I have to see to believe.
The young drowess perched on the roof of her family's home, watching the city below, and thinking of what would happen tomorrow, which was her thirtieth birthday, and thus the occasion of her Blooding. To the best of her knowledge, it would be the first time she had ever killed another drow who wasn't part of an attack on her House.
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't realize her younger sister, Llolfaen, had come onto the roof with her until the other elf spoke.
"If you knew you could leave now, before your Blooding, would you?"
Lellienth shrugged, placing the dagger she'd drawn at the sound of a voice back in its sheath
"The other one would still live or die whether or not I was the one to fight them. My hand or another's, it doesn't make much difference. Maybe, if I knew they could win by facing the other, but I don't. And even then, I'd just be condemning their opponent... So I don't think I would, unless I was going up against you, and your Blooding isn't for two more years," she replied, after a minute's consideration, reaching out and ruffling the other drow's hair. "So no, I don't think I would."
"Not even for Jaldrym? I know you two are pretty close, Lell...", the mage-in-training asked quietly, smiling a bit at the contact with her sister, though her voice didn't entirely match her expression, sounding almost sad.
"Probably not, Faen. If I did, Halisstra would have him flayed alive and dumped out for the driders, and it would be kinder for me to just kill him..."
Unlike her sister, she simply sounded resigned, though, again, her voice didn't fit her face, which also had a smile on it, as she was apparently enjoying Llolfaen's company.
----------
Lellienth leaned back, dodging a sword stroke that would have gutted her had it hit, and, carefully balancing, brought her left foot up, kicking her opponent - Ilivarrra Rilynt'tar - in the ribs, hard enough to knock her off balance, though not to crack them.
Coming back down onto both feet, she lashed out with the other, catching the second drowess in the outside of her right thigh, and dropping her to the ground, striking her head on a stalactite as she did.
Stepping forward, she placed the tip of her rapier against the other elf, and paused, causing Ilivarrra to raise her head as much as she could, looking sad and resigned.
"Just do it, Lelli... You can't get around it, unless you let me kill you, or have me run into the caves and say I got eaten by something, and they'll want to know where I died and what you got to kill me, so that they can check your story."
Lellienth nodded, once, and twitched her arm forward, neatly stabbing her friend through the heart. And then, that done, she pulled out her blade, wiped it on the corpse, and picked up the body, slowly carrying it back to Ched Nasad.
__________________
Plague Rat in the Playground
Quote:
Originally Posted by Grim ranger
I support the godly magazine idea, and hope that Eld can serve as mix of town crier and incredibly deadpan game show host in some sections. Also, for some odd reason, he will also make appearance when it comes to godly fashion tips, for even if he is grim reaper he will be the most bishounen god there is. Just you wait
Quote:
Originally Posted by Moonwolf
Damn you and your comprehensive understanding of synergistic tactics. :|
"Oh, look, it's Red the Basket-Stabber!"
"Hey Red!"
"How's the mother? Huh?"
Dorothy Williams sighed as the teasing of the other schoolchildren rang in her ears yet again - every morning when she arrived at the village school, the points and jibes and laughter started, and even in class the occasional snickers could be heard, aimed at her and her younger sister.
Being the daughters of a weaver-woman wasn't easy.
After all, everyone knew what 'weavers' did.
The fact her father had made an 'honest woman' of her didn't stop the comments and snide remarks - after all, everyone knew you couldn't reform a 'weaver', and the fact Mr. Williams had been a mere footsoldier in the guards just added to the shaken heads, smirks, and teases. The fact that her family were the only ones in the village with red hair, another 'gift' of Ms. Williams', provided that much more fuel to the fire.
Her sister was a kind-hearted soul; in her youth, Danielle knew little of the reasons behind the torment, but she merely smiled and shook it off, like lava off the back of a Stygian Fireduck.
Dorothy wasn't as sanguine. But, for her sister's sake, she kept the pain and anger of the words of her classmates bottled up inside.
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me, she thought bitterly as she settled into her seat behind her desk in the classroom. Whoever said that clearly never had to deal with words.
Interesting to see Shrike and Dani as kids. You can see their future personalities in there and how being bullied shaped them.
Quote:
Originally Posted by OrchestraHc
More Sevet to come and definitely some opinions on everyone's stories. But for now, a bit of backstory on my latest character Alfred/Agneau.
Once upon a time...
Spoiler
There was a married couple who loved each other very much. The wife was pregnant and couldn't be happier. She was so excited about having a baby she would spend days making toys for her coming baby, for she was a seamstress, and skilled at making dolls. She didn't know whether it would be a boy or a girl, so she made dolls for both, pretty princesses and brave knights.
When her baby was finally born, she and her husband were overjoyed. He would be a big strong boy, smart and brave! But they were not the only ones overjoyed at the birth. A faerie who had been watching the couple with interest would always visit the child at night. For though the baby had hair as black as night, when the faerie was present he had hair of gold and it entranced her.
One night, a little after the baby's first year, the faerie could not stand the temptation any longer. She took the child from it's crib, and for the parents, she enchanted one of the many dolls in the child's room. Making it take the shape of the baby. It would act just like a baby for all it's days and never grow old. Perfect for the couple. With that, the baby was whisked away into the night.
Classic changeling tale, I see. Poor parents. I'm curious to see where this is going.
Quote:
Originally Posted by KerfuffleMach2
Just to let people know, this story is going to start getting darker from here. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Memories - Part 3
Spoiler
A sixteen year old kid living on the streets wasn't rare in Rembress. The city was in decline, the government was changing its policies, and people just couldn't take in stray kids anymore. Long as they didn't cause problems, nobody cared.
Course, without having any money, it's hard to get by without causing problems.
The first few weeks, I found myself in back alleys, scrounging through dumpsters for food. I don't even want to remember how many half-rotted things I ate. I had to, though. I was determined to never go back to that orphanage. A couple people would yell at me and chase me away. I learned quickly which diners had the people who actually cared about that.
I found myself sleeping mostly in any tree I could find. I tried to practice my abilities as much as I could, and I'd use them to lift myself into the branches. Helped keep the number of homeless guys trying to feel me up while I was sleeping down.
Course, I couldn't prevent it entirely...
About two months later, I was seeing just how bad of a decision I made. I could find food at least a couple times a day, but that was just enough for me to keep going. At least in the orphanage, I was fed regularly. I hadn't had a proper bath or shower since I left. I'd had to get in a couple fights to protect myself. And run when reinforcements showed up.
Simply put, I was a mess.
Now, by this point, I was desperate. I would do almost anything to gain some kind of normal life back. So, when a kind of sleezy guy came up to me one day in an alley and said he had a job for me, I listened. When he said it included housing, I jumped at it.
He took me to what looked like an abandoned warehouse towards the edge of the city. He brought me inside, took me to "my room". It was mostly bare, save for a bed, a couch, and a tub. I was kind of confused, kind of frightened. But, it was a bed. With a roof over it. I wasn't gonna say no. He told me to take a bath, and that I'd find some clothes in the little closet next to the couch. He said he'd come back in a while to discuss my job. So, soon as he left, I practically ripped my clothes off and jumped in the tub. It only had cold water, but that was fine. Better than relying on the rain.
When I was cleaned, I went to the closet, hoping to find a towel in there. I found a stack of them, as well as the clothes he mentioned. I started pulling out the clothes, and that's when my gut was finally being heard. There wasn't much to them. Tiny shorts and skirts, thongs, lacy bras, and shirts that could barely be called such. I tried to find the most conservative combo I could. I may have been a teen still, but I had started to develop before I even left the orphanage.
Not much later, the man came back. Slate was his name. He was a smooth-talker. The kind of guy that could talk you into giving him your pants, cleaned and ironed, without ever realizing it.
So, he sat me down on the couch and started his routine. In hindsight, what he said was probably a well rehearsed speech he gave to all the girls and young women he "employed" at that place. But, at that moment...it felt like he was doing this just for me. Like he was actually looking out for me. He reassured me that I would only have to sleep with maybe a guy a week, and that I wouldn't really be doing much beyond oral. He made it fell...well, like it was okay. Just a temporary thing. Maybe a couple weeks, and I'd have enough cash to be out on my own again.
By Eram, I hate youthful stupidity.
I'll give the man credit. He eased me into it. It was a little while before I started noticing that I was doing way more than what he promised. But, by then...I couldn't get out. Because...as horrible as the stuff I was doing was...I had a room. I had food. It was better than not knowing when or where my next meal would be. Or where I might be able to get at least a nap. And the dangers that were present were ones that I knew and expected. Not the unknown of the alleys in the city.
Plus, I was afraid of what Slate could and would do if I took off.
For the next two years, I slowly died inside. I wasn't your average eighteen year old woman. Not by a long shot.
Maybe that's what gave one of my regulars the idea to recruit me for some new military project that was happening...
This is indeed quite dark. In a different way than other dark stories in here, more... down-to-earth darkness, with desperation, degradation and abuse. Nice to see someone tackle such unpleasant topics.
Quote:
Originally Posted by C'nor
Lellienth Mizrym Scars, part 1
(Nexus-canon.)
Spoiler
The young drowess perched on the roof of her family's home, watching the city below, and thinking of what would happen tomorrow, which was her thirtieth birthday, and thus the occasion of her Blooding. To the best of her knowledge, it would be the first time she had ever killed another drow who wasn't part of an attack on her House.
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't realize her younger sister, Llolfaen, had come onto the roof with her until the other elf spoke.
"If you knew you could leave now, before your Blooding, would you?"
Lellienth shrugged, placing the dagger she'd drawn at the sound of a voice back in its sheath
"The other one would still live or die whether or not I was the one to fight them. My hand or another's, it doesn't make much difference. Maybe, if I knew they could win by facing the other, but I don't. And even then, I'd just be condemning their opponent... So I don't think I would, unless I was going up against you, and your Blooding isn't for two more years," she replied, after a minute's consideration, reaching out and ruffling the other drow's hair. "So no, I don't think I would."
"Not even for Jaldrym? I know you two are pretty close, Lell...", the mage-in-training asked quietly, smiling a bit at the contact with her sister, though her voice didn't entirely match her expression, sounding almost sad.
"Probably not, Faen. If I did, Halisstra would have him flayed alive and dumped out for the driders, and it would be kinder for me to just kill him..."
Unlike her sister, she simply sounded resigned, though, again, her voice didn't fit her face, which also had a smile on it, as she was apparently enjoying Llolfaen's company.
----------
Lellienth leaned back, dodging a sword stroke that would have gutted her had it hit, and, carefully balancing, brought her left foot up, kicking her opponent - Ilivarrra Rilynt'tar - in the ribs, hard enough to knock her off balance, though not to crack them.
Coming back down onto both feet, she lashed out with the other, catching the second drowess in the outside of her right thigh, and dropping her to the ground, striking her head on a stalactite as she did.
Stepping forward, she placed the tip of her rapier against the other elf, and paused, causing Ilivarrra to raise her head as much as she could, looking sad and resigned.
"Just do it, Lelli... You can't get around it, unless you let me kill you, or have me run into the caves and say I got eaten by something, and they'll want to know where I died and what you got to kill me, so that they can check your story."
Lellienth nodded, once, and twitched her arm forward, neatly stabbing her friend through the heart. And then, that done, she pulled out her blade, wiped it on the corpse, and picked up the body, slowly carrying it back to Ched Nasad.
I'll admit I'm not a huge fan of drow, so I'm having trouble commenting on this one. Still, it's well-written, even if the dialogue feels a bit... stiff? Especially the line in the second part.
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My FFRP characters. Avatar by Kid Kris. Sigatars by Gulaghar, Kid Kris, Zefir and billtodamax, respectively.
I'll admit I'm not a huge fan of drow, so I'm having trouble commenting on this one. Still, it's well-written, even if the dialogue feels a bit... stiff? Especially the line in the second part.
A bit, yes. Probably it could have used more polishing, but I didn't see that at the time... One of the dangers of posting when ill, I suppose. I might try to tweak it at some point.
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Plague Rat in the Playground
Quote:
Originally Posted by Grim ranger
I support the godly magazine idea, and hope that Eld can serve as mix of town crier and incredibly deadpan game show host in some sections. Also, for some odd reason, he will also make appearance when it comes to godly fashion tips, for even if he is grim reaper he will be the most bishounen god there is. Just you wait
Quote:
Originally Posted by Moonwolf
Damn you and your comprehensive understanding of synergistic tactics. :|
Alright. I haven't felt much inspiration for Inherit the Earth lately, so I'll make an intermission. It will also get futher parts, but after I finish Sophie's story. I hope it'll explain some stuff Dipsnig and my other goblins say to a degree.
Rise of the Prophet
Spoiler
Hundreds of years before a goblin notoriously lacking in cheer and known in the Nexus as Dipsnig Razortooth was born, his homeland looked nothing like it does now. Instead of inhabitning massive colonies dug deep into the mountains, goblins were scattered in caves all over the northern mountain range... or in Imperial slave mines. Back in those days, mankind ruled supreme, and the Empire stretched all over the continent. But it was changing; the Empire was standing on feet of clay and shaking. As wars and uprisings raged, noone really took the goblins into account; they were vermin and cheap labour, who cared that they did? They underestimated what a truly inspiring leader can do to even the most downtrodden.
The massive cavern on the lower slopes of the Dragonbone Mountain bustled with activity. Thousands of goblins filled it, having been called there by the new chieftain of the Dragonbone Tribe. They arrived in secret so as not to draw attention of the humans who, while busy with the war in their borders, would certainly not look favorably upon such a large gathering of creatures they regarded as vermin and a nuisance. They sat and stood upon every available surface and whispered frantically to each other. "They say he's crazy."
"They say he has a plan." "They say a riding wolf accepted him without being broken in."
"They say he liberated a labour camp and beat an orcish chieftain."
"They say he no longer has a shaman."
All the whispers were cut short - with abruptness that was shocking for goblins - when the one they'd been talking about came up onto a platform raised in the centre of the cave. He was a skinny runt, even for a goblin in that day and age. His skin was pale gray and he didn't have much hair. He looked at the throng of goblins before them, the pale eyes glistening in the faint light of muck lanterns. Finally, he spoke. "Brothers and sisters in the dark. I brought you here today for a purpose. I know you were afraid, afraid of what humans would do to you if they thought you were being uppity. But I want to tell you that we need not be afraid anymore."
A murmur went through the ranks of goblins. "Some of you may know me. I am Hultznim of the Dragonbone Tribe, which now consists of all goblins in this area. You may wonder how I managed to unite so many of us under one banner, and I will tell you - it is because I have aid from a higher power."
An even louder murmur. At that time, goblins worshipped petty gods of earth and rock under the guidance of their tribal shamans. Deep down, they felt like more powerful spirits or gods wouldn't listen. "Yes, you have heard right. While hiding from a human patrol in the caves, I heard a voice. It came from below, from the roots of the mountain. It belonged to the Lord Below."
Now there was just stunned silence from the goblin crowd. "He is the lord of depths and darkness, sovereign of the deep places. He had seen our suffering and hear our cries. Noone else would listen, but he did. He wishes to make the goblin race his children."
There was a burst of agitated discussion from the listeners before Hultznim's voice once again cut above the din. "I know what you're thinking - 'what's in it for us?' I wouldn't make you agree to anything if there was nothing to gain. If we let ourselves be led by the Lord Below, we will finally get back at the humans for what they're done to us."
Hultznim paused and when he spoke again, his - precisely controlled - voice was filled with venom. "We've never had much, but when they came, we lost even that. Right now, thousands of goblins toil for the benefit of the fat, pink-skinned humans in the lowlands. Thousands more are treated like vermin. We are not vermin!" He roared, and there were shouts of approval and agreement from the crowd. In his head, Hultznim breathed with relief. Looks like his method of motivating his kinsmen was working. "I won't stand for this anymore. Now that I have my new god on my side, I will show the humans what "vermin" can do."
More silence. Fight the humans? How? "Lord Below has shown me the way. The humans are fighting amongst themselves and against dwarves. Their Empire is crumbling. If we strike now, we'll hit them at their weakest, hit them where it hurts. And there's five of us for every one of them at this point. What do we have to lose?"
He could feel the growing enthusiasm among the goblin ranks. There wasn't a single one there who hasn't lost family or friends to humans. There was a lot of desire for vengeance there, lots of bitterness and venom. All he had to do was to unleash it and send in the humans' direction. "I say this to you - tomorrow I will begin gathering an army. Each and every tribal leader is welcome to swear fealty to me and bring his tribe to the horde. We will begin by liberating slave mines. Who's with me?!" He yelled, thrusting his fist upwards.
The cave resonated with the closest thing goblins can get to a battlecry.
Soon enough, tribes from all over the northern mountain range began to flock under Hultznim's and Lord Below's banner. The goblins were eager to fight for a cause, looking back only to a lifetime of slavery and fear. Those who were reluctant were... persuaded to do so anyway by the growing horde.
(To be continued.)
So, yeah. I'm basically flexing my world-builder muscles. Hope it makes a shred of sense.
Also, @Happy's latest story: Poor Missy. It's a wonder she hasn't renounced her faith again. And life just keeps throwing rocks at her.
Well, besides a little blip with inhabitning in the beginning and perhaps a poor choice of words later on (seriously, what kind of ancient goblin prophet says "uppity? ) it was fairly decent.
A few things though.
The speech seemed effective, and well written, but I would have liked to see more dissent and reaction from the other tribes, perhaps in the form of another tribe leader saying "what's in it for us" instead of the Prophet.
I just think hearing more voices would have made the story more natural feeling.
A bit, yes. Probably it could have used more polishing, but I didn't see that at the time... One of the dangers of posting when ill, I suppose. I might try to tweak it at some point.
My point is mostly that it doesn't seem like something a person about to die would say. Even a drow.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Slii Arhem
Well, besides a little blip with inhabitning in the beginning and perhaps a poor choice of words later on (seriously, what kind of ancient goblin prophet says "uppity? ) it was fairly decent.
A few things though.
The speech seemed effective, and well written, but I would have liked to see more dissent and reaction from the other tribes, perhaps in the form of another tribe leader saying "what's in it for us" instead of the Prophet.
I just think hearing more voices would have made the story more natural feeling.
I didn't think "uppity" was out of place. Why did you think it was? It seemed to sum up the humans' feeling on the goblins, i.e. dregs who should know their place.
As for voices of dissent... yes, you have a point. I was basically making it up as I went along, riding on a flash of inspiration, as it were. Also, I figured that the goblins were desperate enough not to question him. Still, you're right that some more reaction from the crowd would have made it better.
__________________
My FFRP characters. Avatar by Kid Kris. Sigatars by Gulaghar, Kid Kris, Zefir and billtodamax, respectively.
My point is mostly that it doesn't seem like something a person about to die would say. Even a drow.
Looking back, I agree on that. There are several ways that scene could have gone, and I'll probably write up an alternate version when I'm feeling better.
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Plague Rat in the Playground
Quote:
Originally Posted by Grim ranger
I support the godly magazine idea, and hope that Eld can serve as mix of town crier and incredibly deadpan game show host in some sections. Also, for some odd reason, he will also make appearance when it comes to godly fashion tips, for even if he is grim reaper he will be the most bishounen god there is. Just you wait
Quote:
Originally Posted by Moonwolf
Damn you and your comprehensive understanding of synergistic tactics. :|
Interesting to see Shrike and Dani as kids. You can see their future personalities in there and how being bullied shaped them.
Thanks. That is kinda what I'm aiming for; well, that and narrowing the 'broad strokes' I've always painted their backstory with before.
*********
Shrike and Dani Red, part II
Spoiler
"I still think we could get along with everybody just fine if they'd just try, and we just need to talk to them to get them to listen!"
The older of the two redheaded girls in the clearing in the woods rolled her eyes at her sister's words, which were delivered with conviction...despite their having had essentially the same conversation at least twice a month for as long as she could remember. "If you want them to listen, you'll have to pound their heads against the wall," she retorted, as she eyed a piece of wood, hanging on a vine across the clearing, swinging in the soft breeze...
BZAAAAAP!
...and directed a blast of electrical energy from her outstretched fist, leaving the wood slightly smouldering. And, purely coincidentally, keeping her from hearing Dani's squawk of protest at the thought of 'countering their meanness with our own meanness' which she knew was coming.
Again: twice a month.
"...but I wish they would just understand. And I know you and dad both say they'd be freaked out by that," she waved in the general direction of the target to indicate her sister's electrical display as the subject of her comment, "but why? It's just so cool!"
Dorothy sighed, running a hand through her hair, and went to sit next to her younger sister. "Because it's magic. And what do the holy books say about magic?"
"To burn the witch." Dani frowned, almost poutingly. "But you're not a witch. You're my sister!"
"Yeah, and I'm glad you think so." Chuckling, Dorothy ruffled her sister's hair. "Now how about we go find some crawfish? Mom wants to fix some for dinner."
The grin on her sister's face was enough to make her forget about everything that worried her, if only for a time.
Yes... er... this. Because Kris needed a new character.
Kal/Lanthil backstory coming soon in this thread, I promise!
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Quote:
Originally Posted by IronStylus (on boobplates)
I still consider myself a feminist despite having a biological attraction to certain parts of female anatomy and the desire to now and again see plate metal curvaceously wrapping around their sensual forms in a cradle of cold, sumptuous, steel.
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