Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

[Meg]

Anyone?

I saw it. I liked it.

[Cracklord]

I don't see Lien with anyone but Durkon, and found it too short, but it certainly shows potential. Try describing things a bit more. Rather then stating things, show them. Remember, 40% of communication is body language.

[The Dark Fiddler]

No, I liked them. Sorry I can't say anything more. Right now my life's like trying to fix a really old piece of plumbing. Every time I think I patched something up--BANG! There's another leak...

Anything I can do to help? I like to help people.

[Meg]

No, I liked them. Sorry I can't say anything more. Right now my life's like trying to fix a really old piece of plumbing. Every time I think I patched something up--BANG! There's another leak...

Sorry to hear that. Will it make you laugh if I tell you that today in English class I accidentally wound up having to defend a pro-cannibalism law?

[CoffeeIncluded]

A bit, I guess.

...Physics hates me.

[Kaytara]

A bit, I guess.

...Physics hates me.

Today I said in physics that all electrons go to the South Pole.

Well, close to it. XD

I was intending to say how the electrons go to the nevatively charged plate in the experiment, but got distracted.XD

[BatRobin]

I don't see Lien with anyone but Durkon, and found it too short, but it certainly shows potential. Try describing things a bit more. Rather then stating things, show them. Remember, 40% of communication is body language.

Thanks for the CC.

And yeah, that was pretty short, but it'll get longer.

[Omergideon]

Aww, that was cute.

Although you confused me a bit; why does V have black hair?


And what Silverraptor said: we usually spoiler stories. Even if they're short, it helps distinguish them from the rest of the text.

Now how exactly would I spoiler a story then? As I said I do not know how.

And fixing the hair colour when I spoiler it. Thanks.

[Meg]

Now how exactly would I spoiler a story then? As I said I do not know how.

And fixing the hair colour when I spoiler it. Thanks.

You use [ spoiler ] Stuff [ /spoiler ], only w/o the spaces.

[Omergideon]

OK, done.

[Thor Person Guy]

I just looked at the OP. What happened to all of Zanaril's wonderful banners?


...And the avatar I was using...

[BatRobin]

Everything's there, but your av expired, apparently.

[Thor Person Guy]

Everything's there, but your av expired, apparently.

*goes back to double-check*

...If the banners are there, why can't I see them?

[Water-Smurf]

So what's the name of RC and V's child, and when do we get crack-fiction with her and Xykon?

Crack fanfiction about crack fanfiction?

...Now I'm wondering whether or not to give Tiasal a love interest. Damn.

Well, I'm planning on screwing her up anyway. It's too much fun to traumatize characters. I doubt I'll deal with love.

Anyway, here's the next V/RC chapter!

Spoiler

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“My foes dote on me more than my allies.”

Vaarsuvius leaned against a tree trunk, staring up at the perpetually dark sky, half-eaten meal placed neatly on the ground. Blackwing, glad to be visible for once, was pecking at the forest floor, picking off little insects to eat. Tsukiko seemed fascinated by the raven, staring so hard that Blackwing actually flew to Vaarsuvius’s lap to hide.

“Hey, just eat the whole thing. Anyone with the glow should have a bunch of healthy food.”

Vaarsuvius’s head shook a little, irritated, pale fingers absently running through Blackwing’s feathers. “What is this ‘glow’ you keep speaking about?”

“The glow.” Tsukiko grinned, glancing at Redcloak. “My mom worked with the glow a lot, and my sister had it all the time. I know when a girl has the glow.”

Redcloak shook his head, adding a few sticks to the fire they sat around. “I suggest just eating it, Vaarsuvius. She’s crazy, but she’s stubborn. And she’ll probably be talking about ‘the glow’ all night.”

Vaarsuvius sighed irritably, leaning forward and taking the plate, quietly finishing the meal. “Are my nursemaids happy?”

Tsukiko shrugged, smirking and mismatched eyes flashing out of sync. “Hey, it’s not because I like you. Mom always said to take care of women with the glow.”

“I am not glowing.”

“Yes you are.” Tsukiko stood up, dusting herself off and stretching. “You both are boring. I’m going to go get some more firewood.” She winked. “Don’t let me catch you naked again. If I do, you’d better let me watch.”

Redcloak and Vaarsuvius both glared at her fiercely, provoking a cackle as the Theurge walked into the forest. Blackwing looked between the elf and the goblin, squawked disapprovingly, and flew up into the great branches.

“I believe that he takes a dim view of our relationship,” Vaarsuvius said, glancing up after the bird.

“Wisely.” Redcloak sidled up closer to the elf, leaving a safe gap between them so Vaarsuvius could close it or leave it as wished. Vaarsuvius chose to close it.

The elf leaned on the goblin, lightly touching his hand and stroking it. Redcloak wrapped an arm around his lover’s waist, smiling and a cross between a purr and a growl gently emanating from his chest. “You’re not usually this affectionate.”

“I find that there is greater need for warmth in this dungeon.” Vaarsuvius grasped the goblin’s hand tightly. “Thank you for yesterday. I am not sure what I would have done if you were not there to ground me.”

“Likewise.” Redcloak brushed their lips together. “I’m glad you’re here.”

A flicker of pain went through the elf’s abdomen and chest. Vaarsuvius gently slipped delicate arms around Redcloak’s neck, resting a tired head against his shoulder. “As am I. It is unwise, but I am happy that we are together.”

The goblin stroked the elf’s back gently, completely content with their position, but he knew well enough that it wouldn’t last forever. “Vaarsuvius? Are you okay?”

Vaarsuvius looked up, eyebrow arched. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m a cleric.” Redcloak kept stroking the elf’s back. “You were dizzy today. You needed to stop walking a lot. This isn’t the first time that’s happened—you’ve been doing that since we met up, and I’d guess you were doing it beforehand as well.” He kissed Vaarsuvius’s forehead, subtly feeling for a fever. “I can help you if you tell me what’s wrong. Are you sick?”

“No, Redcloak. I am simply light-headed. This dungeon has not been good for me.” The elf shifted, eyelashes lightly brushing against the goblin’s scales. “I would prefer to not speak of it.”

The goblin sighed, kissing the elf’s forehead again. “Alright, then. As long as you’re safe.”

“Why would you care about my safety?”

Redcloak arched an eye ridge, looking down at the elf. “Aren’t we past that?” He kissed Vaarsuvius, careful about putting too much emotion into it. He knew well enough that the elf barely permitted affection and caring. Vaarsuvius would never allow love. “I care about you. I want you to be safe. Whether or not that’s realistic is up for debate.”

“I care about you as well, but I fear the wisdom of admitting to it.” Vaarsuvius kissed back gently. “We cannot forget that we are enemies.”

“We haven’t.” Redcloak ran his hands along the elf’s shoulder blades soothingly, parting their lips. “It doesn’t mean that we have to focus on it for now. Leave it for when we have to fight.”

“We are setting ourselves up for pain.”

“I know.” Redcloak pressed their lips together again. “I’ve done it before. It’ll be okay.”

“I do not wish to be apart again. Not after yesterday.”

“Neither do I.” Redcloak securely wrapped his arms around the elf, bringing Vaarsuvius on his lap and kissing the mage tenderly. “We’ll be okay. I promise.”

As the lovers started kissing more and more deeply, a certain Theurge clasped her hands and looked down at her feet from the tree she was eavesdropping behind, barely containing her titters. By the gods. The idiot had actually gone and fallen in love with the elf. It was so obvious that she was stringing him along, too!

She used to think that Reddy was savvy, but she guessed that he’d gone so long without a lay that he was willing to believe whatever the hell the whore told him. The slut was using him to keep safe—a tactic that was smart, but underhanded. And perfectly hilarious for Tsukiko to watch.

And the glow. The glow. The whore probably didn’t know that she was preggers yet. Well, that was what sluts got when they didn’t cross their friggin’ legs. And Reddy was going to be the daddy of the bastard. How cute.

She wondered if she should tell them, but oh! It was so hilarious to see Reddy all confused and worried about the whore’s dizzy spells. Tsukiko would keep them in the dark for a little longer, if only to watch them squirm.

Stupid goblin. Falling in love? Getting the whore knocked up? The enemy?! They both totally deserved whatever hilarious misfortune they brought on themselves.

And she wasn’t averse to helping said misfortune come along.

With that, she left to find some wood.

---

Belkar crouched, glaring, his daggers poised. “What are you?”

The creature sauntered forward slowly.

“Hey! Stay where you are!”

Mr. Scruffy mewled loudly, fearfully hiding behind Belkar’s leg. The creature started going faster, a simple silver chain with a heart, looped for strangulation, appearing in its hand.

“Stop!”

The creature smirked darkly.

Belkar would never be able to strike it.

Belkar recoiled, darkness coming on with only a desperate meow from his cat.

---

“Who are you?”

Aarindarius looked up from his seat on a blue chair, closing his spell book and tucking it away in his robes, eyes settling patiently on the confused young man in the doorway.

The man was clad in blue armor and couldn’t have been past his mid-twenties. One hand was resting on the hilt of his katana, his stance guarded but not openly hostile.

The wizard smiled, having the grace to look sheepish, and stood up. “My apologies for making myself at home in your living room. I attempted to enter through your guards, but I found that rather difficult so I resorted to teleportation.” He came forward, keeping a safe enough distance so there wasn’t any need for the man to jump back in defense. “My name is Aarindarius. If I have intruded on the correct household, you are Lord Hinjo of Azure City?”

“Yes. I am.” Hinjo warily edged towards the fire. “May I ask why you are here?”

Aarindarius smiled again. “I am a friend of Vaarsuvius.”

Hinjo immediately relaxed, his hand dropping from the hilt of his katana, but he obviously hadn’t completely let his guard down. Aarindarius understood. He wouldn’t instantaneously trust a stranger who had teleported into his home either. “Vaarsuvius! Well, welcome, Aarindarius. Vaarsuvius helped the Azurites more than I can say.” The paladin gestured for the wizard to sit down. “Make yourself comfortable.”

They both sat down across from each other, Aarindarius crossing his legs and keeping his gaze impassive. “I came to ask after Vaarsuvius, actually. She has been away from our village for many years, and the news we have received regarding her has been fragmented and outlandish. I wished to make sure that she was still alive, as well as see her and see if she if she is recognizable as the elf that left us.” He allowed another sheepish smile to cross his lips. “I fear that I watch too much after those that are close to me. I am sure that my concerns are unfounded.”

Hinjo’s eyes sharpened slightly, obviously picking up on the fact that Aarindarius wasn’t sharing something, but he let it go. “Well, Vaarsuvius was alive last I saw. That was roughly a month and a half ago. We traveled together for quite some time, but I can’t tell you much about him.”

Aarindarius spent less than a second wondering about the error in pronouns—he had found that non-Ivyleaf natives did that a lot. He arched an eyebrow, clasping his hands on his knee and keeping his knuckle away from his teeth. “Oh?”

“He spent a lot of his time working on spells to find a part of his adventuring party that we separated from in Azure city.”

Aarindarius cocked his head curiously.

“He’s become part of an adventuring party since you last saw him. They are a good group—heroes of Azure City.” Hinjo put his hand on his knee, smiling with a hint of wariness in his eyes. “If I may ask, how do you know Vaarsuvius? Are you his spouse?”

Aarindarius covered his mouth, stifling a laugh. “No, I am not.” His eyes on the surface were merry, but if Hinjo looked deep enough, he could see a core of worry and seriousness. “But Vaarsuvius and I are rather close. Do you know where I could find her?”

Hinjo hesitated, shifting suspiciously, trying to weigh the elf before him. Did he trust it or not? “…Last time I saw him, he was leaving to go to Sandsedge. I can’t tell you much about where he may have gone beyond there.” Can’t, won’t, it was all the same. He had told the stranger enough.

Aarindarius dipped his head, noting that the paladin was hiding something but unwilling to press him for anymore information due to the circumstances. “Thank you kindly.” He smiled and stood up. “I shall see myself out.”

He did.

Thoughts?

[The Dark Fiddler]

*Sigh of relief* Back to normal length, not scary V/Rc.

I really enjoyed this chapter. Can't wait for the next part.

Umm... I had a typo I was going to point out but I can't remember it now...

*goes back to double-check*

...If the banners are there, why can't I see them?

Weird, I can still see them.

Well, I just replaced them with new ones, so [stolentechnobable]perhaps your browser still has the first page cached with the old banner. Trying clearing the cache or forcing a refresh (ctrl-f5 on a PC)[/stolentechnobable].

[CoffeeIncluded]

Nice chapter!

EDIT: Well, Roland told me to change my sig. Anyone got a more PG-rated CP banner of a work I did to show me? Maybe that one, but without Julia in it?

[Cracklord]

Nice.
But of course, you already know that.

I'll admit, I miss the scary stuff.

[Lycan 01]

Coffee, what sig were you using that got you in trouble?


Sooo... Anybody got anything to say about my last V x Cain update? Constructive criticism? Concerns? Suggestions? Misc thoughts? *hates to ask, because he feels rude*


Btw, how would GRIM DARK lightning bolts affect an Ork boy? Would it just drop dead and twitch a few times, cartwheel into the sky, explode, or what? I'm having trouble figuring this one out...

[CoffeeIncluded]

One from one of my fics. Pompey/Sabine.

Problems was that in the sig, Julia was tied up and watching them. Remove Julia from the sig and we're good to go.

[Cracklord]

Coffee, what sig were you using that got you in trouble?


Sooo... Anybody got anything to say about my last V x Cain update? Constructive criticism? Concerns? Suggestions? Misc thoughts? *hates to ask, because he feels rude*


Btw, how would GRIM DARK lightning bolts affect an Ork boy? Would it just drop dead and twitch a few times, cartwheel into the sky, explode, or what? I'm having trouble figuring this one out...

Burn a whole in their chest?

Yes, I liked it. Just forgot to comment.

So...
No chance of Yarrick?

One from one of my fics. Pompey/Sabine.

Problems was that in the sig, Julia was tied up and watching them. Remove Julia from the sig and we're good to go.

What the crap?

What's wrong with that? I mean, the comic actually said they were hiding her in the hentai district. That's far rougher then your sig.

[Lycan 01]

Well... Maybe I could work Yarrick in there. ... Actually, I suppose Cain could be helping out on a planet where Yarrick is dealing with some of Grkha-whatever's Orks, and the old Commissar decides to stop by and see if its true that Cain actually found an Eldar on the planet, and what that could mean for them...


Edit: And how was that worse than the K x V with tentacles sig?

[CoffeeIncluded]

Yeah, but I don't want to anger the mods, you know?

Best to stay on their good side. Especially since I'm relatively new here.

[Mystic Muse]

thanks Cracklord!

[Cracklord]

The Order's adventures In Girard's gate continue. Roy next, then a truly horrible sequal that will be balanced by a kharmic conclusion.

Spoiler

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Belkar trotted calmly Mr Scruffy at his heels. If the cat had any sense of dramatic awareness, it would have refused to go any further, scratched and clawed at anyone who tried to make it. But what did a cat have to fear from illusions? They don't dream beyond the next meal. And even the most domesticated cat still acts as it wants.

At last he came to a room, totally empty of any furnishings, with a door at the far end. Somehow he knew that the dungeon itself had ended, and the maze that Girard had spent his life protecting lay beyond that door. He sighed in disappointment.

"Giant dungeon and there isn't one person to kill. Why would anyone..." His voice trailed of when he realized no one was watching. Suddenly, with no one to act tough in front of, he felt a lot less confident.

Wetting his lips he looked over his shoulder, at the ceiling, then finally pushed the door open with a violent thrust, trying to make up for his indecision.

Beyond was an emptiness so deep it pulled at him, drawing him into it's embrace. A cool wind blew across his face as he plummeted into the blackness.

A soft weight pressed against his side. Arms enclosed his chest, rising and falling with the rhythm of each breath. Belkar started, abruptly sitting bolt upright in the lavishly appointed room, hung with drapes and furs. He was naked, save for the silken sheets wrapped around him.

The bed was low, and wide enough to fit an entire extended family, surrounded by drapes to trap body heat. They also meant he couldn't see anything beyond them, except a tiny arc of light opposite the foot of the bed. All else was shadow.

There was a moan to his left as the woman rolled languidly onto her back. The faint light limed her chocolate skin, gleaming off a shoulder and single, perfect breast. Her hair fell in perfect tresses, a dark chocolate color, and her lips were a striking red, the exact color of fresh blood.

Belkar reeled from the sight, stumbling awkwardly from the bed and and landing naked on the hard, cold, slate floor. The icy shock of the cold tiles jarring his bones with the sudden impact brought everything into sharp focus.

He didn't know where he was. Not unusual, but never quite this much of a jump. He had no idea who the girl was. Again, hardly unusual, names were always hard and irrelevant. Any girl would be replaced soon by another one, and you'd move on or kill her, and then you'd spared the effort for nothing.

No. Wait. This had happened too him just two days ago, when the rest of the party tracked down the slavers with divinations and found his corpse picked clean. So. One of the illusions must have killed him or whatever, and the rest of the party had pulled it off, brought him back (suckers), then dumped him here and hired this girl as a consolation prize.

Glad that he'd come to a conclusion, if not a conclusion that anyone with a decent wisdom score would consider, he closed his eyes, making a mental note to be nice to them one day, then opened them with a wide grin.

His eye caught a hint of movement to his left, in the chambers shadowy corner. He looked around for a weapon and saw his daggers, draped across an expensive divan near the bed.

Evacuating a fluid roll he nimbly grabbed them, rasping icily from their sheaths as he launched himself towards the source of the movement. For a brief, fleeting instant he thought he saw a hooded figure, little more then a deeper shadow among the dark folds of the hanging drapes, but when he reached the corner there was no one there. He probed the heavy drapes with the points of his blades, but nothing lurked in their depths.

"Trick of the light." He muttered, a diplomacy check so unconvincing he couldn't even make himself believe it. He turned back to the bed, unable to shake the vague feeling of foreboding. He wasn't used to this. Normally he never had second thoughts, or anything more then sudden impulses that he obeyed to the letter. All this subtle nuances were disquieting, and he wished they'd go away.

Without thinking he crossed the room to a nearby table and plucked a goblet of wine from a silver tray. He'd set the wine just before bed, he could remember it clearly (though he could remember not remembering it. It hurt to think about, so Belkar didn't), so clearly it was as though he'd done it moments before, and yet the very act of touching it felt wrong somehow.

"Come back to bed, you scoundrel," the women said, her throaty voice sending a shiver down his spine. "I'm cold."

He could think of nothing more he wanted to do then to return to her side and breathe the scent of her chocolate skin - but even that had a undercurrent of foreboding he couldn't explain. Not used to uncertainty he hesitated, trying to figure out what was wrong with him, but equally unused to self-reflection made this a hopeless task.

Another face, identical but for a slightly wider mouth and darker eyes, peeped up above hers from behind. Ye gods. Twins. And yet...

He heard their bodies whispering against the sheets, and imagined the wrapped around his. Even that erotic thought was disquieting rather then tempting. He looked over to see his hand clutching the thick drapes in a white knuckled grip. Stark terror was washing over him, and through him in waves, even as another part reacted with irresistible lust, he took a step towards the bed, then another step, then turned an bolted, reaching for the ring set in the dark paneled door. Wrenching at it he pulled the door wide. She called for him, sending a stab of longing and wasted opportunity through his chest as he fell into the darkness's waiting arms.



He smelled blood and the stink of ruptured bodies, of ash and of smoke. It smelled glorious. It smelled like victory. He was still naked, a fact he wasn't going to examine, lying exhausted and satisfied atop a tremendous pile of broken bodies, in the center of a burning village, a fact that he was only to eager to examine.

They were all halflings. They were all dead. And he was home. He wanted to cheer. He wanted to bring one, any one, back to life so he could rub it in, then kill them again.

And yet...

He had imagined more. A succession of elaborate, ironic and violent scenario's, each to make them pay for what they had done to him. He was going to rip of Bingo's arm and beat him to death with it, he was going to blind old Gosskar and kill his family, leaving him to wander their big house alone until he eventually starved. And as for Rosie, who had ignored his earnest attempts at courtship before during the Junior Prom in favor of Sam...

It just wasn't as good as he's thought it would be.

But it was good.

"Oh please." He said softly but earnestly, still reclining atop the corpses like a sultan on a couch. "Please let this all be true."

"It is." a familiar voice that he couldn't place said behind him.

Belkar rolled his head to the side. That wasn't right..."This isn't really happening. I'm lost in the maze..."

"Time is an illusion. A series of moments and impressions, stretching on forever. And now, you are outside it. While you are navigating the maze, you are slitting your friends throats, squalling in your mothers arms and taking your last breath."

"No, no, I'm dreaming."

"You are wrong. Isn't this what you always wanted, deep down in the darkest places of your heart?"

The halfling staggered amongst the unsteady footing of the corpses."Yes." The word rumbling from deep in his chest. "Is this my destiny?"

"A destiny."

"Why do you show me these things?"

"I? Not my doing. These are the truths the labyrinth is has revealed to you. What will be and may be, your own desires and wishes."

"And I suppose you are the guardian?"

No reply.

Belkar sneered. "Oh, I'm so terrified. No wonder, after all these sweet visions of future success."

"Success?" The figure echoed. "Please. Do you really imagine, even for a second, that your tale ends in triumph?"

Belkar's sneer faded. Cold fear gnawed at his guts. "What do you mean?"

The figure seemed to grow. "You gibber and shudder lying in a pool of your own piss and blood, crying and begging pathetically, abandoned by everyone who ever knew you, and forgotten or scorned by those who bother to remember."

The shock of his fear hit him like a physical blow in the chest, and he realized how terrified he was of it ending, of his achievements being stripped and leaving him with nothing. He'd never considered his own death, he'd lived in the now and couldn't so much as imagine a world without him. The fear he felt - and the ferocity it leant him - was exhilarating in it's intensity.

He leapt upon the figure, knocking him down. The figure struggled, apparently stunned.

"You are wrong. I reject it. I refuse to accept it." He flipped his knife, and drove it down, until it was at the figure's throat. "You think I'm weak? Well what are you, 'cause I seem to be the one about to give you a red smile." He laughed wildly at the thought. The figure lay still, offering no resistance.

"That's what I thought. You're the weakling skulking in the shadows. Now, lets see what you really look like!"

The hooded man didn't move. This only made Belkar angrier. "Come on! Show ME! Show ME!" With a violent movement, he wrenched at the hood.

A wave of disorientation swept over him, then he was lying on the floor of the maze, his knife pressed against his own throat, a thin trickle of blood dripping down his neck. He'd nearly slit his own throat.

The hooded figure was regarding him impartially, his face hidden in shadow. Enraged, Belkar leapt up and pulled away the hood. He didn't know what to expect anymore, but screamed when it fell away.

"Stupid little halfling. Needs to remember it's place." Belial said with a wolfish smirk. Belial bit his lip as memories rushed through him, forcing his unaccounted for three days, the time he'd spent dead. Torture. Violation. pain. Misery. And a terrible empty feeling that mad him long for the pain, as that was all that had given him meaning.

"No... I won't..."

Belial smirked. “Little Halfling! I was burning worlds before your existence was a glimmer in Arneson’s eye! I was breaking people before your pathetic species genesis! I was fighting battles when your only struggle was to climb out of a womb! I was taking over the creation when your universe was a crib! Darkness? Little mortal.... I INVENTED Darkness! I am sin! I am perversion, hedonism and lust! I am the fire that burns in your veins and the passions that suffuse your heart!

Your gods are as nothing to me, specs infesting one pitiful world in creation! You think your sins are original, but I’ve seen it all before. Every time you tortured, every time you plied your pitiful craft over another, I was there. Every time you smiled as you weakened others, as you took advantage of innocence, as you perverted goodness you called to me. Every time you gave in to your own perversions and enjoyed the ecstasy, the hedonistic rush of killing, you were me.

You are me, little Halfling, but I am not you. You have spent your life in one blood drenched, silent prayer to me, but I have barely deigned to recognize your existence. You are a seconds diversion to a primal force of creation, soon to be cast aside and forgotten. I am sin itself. I am a pillar of creation, without me there would be no universe, no choice. I am fundamental, untouchable and eternal. But you, you are nothing, nothing at all.

Now...On. Your. Knees...Bitch.”

* * * * *

On the other side of the Labyrinth, Durkon was lost in Odin's single eye. "This maze, it wins by giving you what you want. Girard weakened reality, until people can lost in their own lives and desires. The only person who could make it through, is someone with nothing to lose and nothing to gain. And no one's like that. But worst, anything can reach it's way in here. Me. Devils. And other, worse things." Odin spake.

He didn't say the words, he spake them. It had been a meaningless verb until this point, but now Durkon understood it. It was an inflection for talking about great things, things beyond the ken of mortals.

"You don't have long." Odin observed. "So here are your choices. One. You ignore what I have to say. You lose the gate, and three of your party die, yourself included. You will be brought bach as a twisted mockery of everything you stood for, then lead an army and burn your homeland to the ground." He held up a finger. "Or: You accept me as your patron. You will lose three friends, but you can stop the lich here. You will never go home, but will live another decade, and you will be happy for a short time."

Durkon didn't answer for a while. At last he choked out "Tha' be yin helluva choice.'

"I will not tell yu what to do, it is your choice." Odin replied gruffly, gliding forward. What Durkon had taken to be a staff rearranged itself into a golder spear, decorated with engravings, fantastic whorls, swirls and curlicues, hinting at unguessable designs beneath. "But you must choose."

Durkon was biting his lip. "Who'll it be?"

Odin rumbled in a thick voice, heavy with time and wisdom "Wanderer, sprite and singer, or Champion, mage and prophet."

[Monzach]

Hi Crack picture makers!

I was wondering if one of you could make me a lovely new avatar based on either of my Crack Fics (ie. Yokyok and the kobold chick or Gender-swapped RC and Yirish)?

Thank you all in advance. I've really been taken by the quality of work in this place. I think I've burnt out a couple thousand synapses with the amount of Brain Bleach (TM) that I've been chucking back.

[Dark Faun]

You'll have to remind me who Yirish is.

And a new banner.

[Saeyan]

And a new banner.

Oh my.

[Dark Faun]

My initial idea was Roy and not Haley, but then I remembered that A) this is the crack pairings thread and B) I write Haley as enamored with Miko's body anyway.

EDIT: Well, Roland told me to change my sig. Anyone got a more PG-rated CP banner of a work I did to show me? Maybe that one, but without Julia in it?

Do you even have a PG-rated story?

I don't know if it was Julia that made it bad, and if so why it's bad, but, heh, mods know more than me about what's acceptable and what's not.

[Meg]

Crack fanfiction about crack fanfiction?

...Now I'm wondering whether or not to give Tiasal a love interest. Damn.

Well, I'm planning on screwing her up anyway. It's too much fun to traumatize characters. I doubt I'll deal with love.

Anyway, here's the next V/RC chapter!

Spoiler

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“My foes dote on me more than my allies.”

Vaarsuvius leaned against a tree trunk, staring up at the perpetually dark sky, half-eaten meal placed neatly on the ground. Blackwing, glad to be visible for once, was pecking at the forest floor, picking off little insects to eat. Tsukiko seemed fascinated by the raven, staring so hard that Blackwing actually flew to Vaarsuvius’s lap to hide.

“Hey, just eat the whole thing. Anyone with the glow should have a bunch of healthy food.”

Vaarsuvius’s head shook a little, irritated, pale fingers absently running through Blackwing’s feathers. “What is this ‘glow’ you keep speaking about?”

“The glow.” Tsukiko grinned, glancing at Redcloak. “My mom worked with the glow a lot, and my sister had it all the time. I know when a girl has the glow.”

Redcloak shook his head, adding a few sticks to the fire they sat around. “I suggest just eating it, Vaarsuvius. She’s crazy, but she’s stubborn. And she’ll probably be talking about ‘the glow’ all night.”

Vaarsuvius sighed irritably, leaning forward and taking the plate, quietly finishing the meal. “Are my nursemaids happy?”

Tsukiko shrugged, smirking and mismatched eyes flashing out of sync. “Hey, it’s not because I like you. Mom always said to take care of women with the glow.”

“I am not glowing.”

“Yes you are.” Tsukiko stood up, dusting herself off and stretching. “You both are boring. I’m going to go get some more firewood.” She winked. “Don’t let me catch you naked again. If I do, you’d better let me watch.”

Redcloak and Vaarsuvius both glared at her fiercely, provoking a cackle as the Theurge walked into the forest. Blackwing looked between the elf and the goblin, squawked disapprovingly, and flew up into the great branches.

“I believe that he takes a dim view of our relationship,” Vaarsuvius said, glancing up after the bird.

“Wisely.” Redcloak sidled up closer to the elf, leaving a safe gap between them so Vaarsuvius could close it or leave it as wished. Vaarsuvius chose to close it.

The elf leaned on the goblin, lightly touching his hand and stroking it. Redcloak wrapped an arm around his lover’s waist, smiling and a cross between a purr and a growl gently emanating from his chest. “You’re not usually this affectionate.”

“I find that there is greater need for warmth in this dungeon.” Vaarsuvius grasped the goblin’s hand tightly. “Thank you for yesterday. I am not sure what I would have done if you were not there to ground me.”

“Likewise.” Redcloak brushed their lips together. “I’m glad you’re here.”

A flicker of pain went through the elf’s abdomen and chest. Vaarsuvius gently slipped delicate arms around Redcloak’s neck, resting a tired head against his shoulder. “As am I. It is unwise, but I am happy that we are together.”

The goblin stroked the elf’s back gently, completely content with their position, but he knew well enough that it wouldn’t last forever. “Vaarsuvius? Are you okay?”

Vaarsuvius looked up, eyebrow arched. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m a cleric.” Redcloak kept stroking the elf’s back. “You were dizzy today. You needed to stop walking a lot. This isn’t the first time that’s happened—you’ve been doing that since we met up, and I’d guess you were doing it beforehand as well.” He kissed Vaarsuvius’s forehead, subtly feeling for a fever. “I can help you if you tell me what’s wrong. Are you sick?”

“No, Redcloak. I am simply light-headed. This dungeon has not been good for me.” The elf shifted, eyelashes lightly brushing against the goblin’s scales. “I would prefer to not speak of it.”

The goblin sighed, kissing the elf’s forehead again. “Alright, then. As long as you’re safe.”

“Why would you care about my safety?”

Redcloak arched an eye ridge, looking down at the elf. “Aren’t we past that?” He kissed Vaarsuvius, careful about putting too much emotion into it. He knew well enough that the elf barely permitted affection and caring. Vaarsuvius would never allow love. “I care about you. I want you to be safe. Whether or not that’s realistic is up for debate.”

“I care about you as well, but I fear the wisdom of admitting to it.” Vaarsuvius kissed back gently. “We cannot forget that we are enemies.”

“We haven’t.” Redcloak ran his hands along the elf’s shoulder blades soothingly, parting their lips. “It doesn’t mean that we have to focus on it for now. Leave it for when we have to fight.”

“We are setting ourselves up for pain.”

“I know.” Redcloak pressed their lips together again. “I’ve done it before. It’ll be okay.”

“I do not wish to be apart again. Not after yesterday.”

“Neither do I.” Redcloak securely wrapped his arms around the elf, bringing Vaarsuvius on his lap and kissing the mage tenderly. “We’ll be okay. I promise.”

As the lovers started kissing more and more deeply, a certain Theurge clasped her hands and looked down at her feet from the tree she was eavesdropping behind, barely containing her titters. By the gods. The idiot had actually gone and fallen in love with the elf. It was so obvious that she was stringing him along, too!

She used to think that Reddy was savvy, but she guessed that he’d gone so long without a lay that he was willing to believe whatever the hell the whore told him. The slut was using him to keep safe—a tactic that was smart, but underhanded. And perfectly hilarious for Tsukiko to watch.

And the glow. The glow. The whore probably didn’t know that she was preggers yet. Well, that was what sluts got when they didn’t cross their friggin’ legs. And Reddy was going to be the daddy of the bastard. How cute.

She wondered if she should tell them, but oh! It was so hilarious to see Reddy all confused and worried about the whore’s dizzy spells. Tsukiko would keep them in the dark for a little longer, if only to watch them squirm.

Stupid goblin. Falling in love? Getting the whore knocked up? The enemy?! They both totally deserved whatever hilarious misfortune they brought on themselves.

And she wasn’t averse to helping said misfortune come along.

With that, she left to find some wood.

---

Belkar crouched, glaring, his daggers poised. “What are you?”

The creature sauntered forward slowly.

“Hey! Stay where you are!”

Mr. Scruffy mewled loudly, fearfully hiding behind Belkar’s leg. The creature started going faster, a simple silver chain with a heart, looped for strangulation, appearing in its hand.

“Stop!”

The creature smirked darkly.

Belkar would never be able to strike it.

Belkar recoiled, darkness coming on with only a desperate meow from his cat.

---

“Who are you?”

Aarindarius looked up from his seat on a blue chair, closing his spell book and tucking it away in his robes, eyes settling patiently on the confused young man in the doorway.

The man was clad in blue armor and couldn’t have been past his mid-twenties. One hand was resting on the hilt of his katana, his stance guarded but not openly hostile.

The wizard smiled, having the grace to look sheepish, and stood up. “My apologies for making myself at home in your living room. I attempted to enter through your guards, but I found that rather difficult so I resorted to teleportation.” He came forward, keeping a safe enough distance so there wasn’t any need for the man to jump back in defense. “My name is Aarindarius. If I have intruded on the correct household, you are Lord Hinjo of Azure City?”

“Yes. I am.” Hinjo warily edged towards the fire. “May I ask why you are here?”

Aarindarius smiled again. “I am a friend of Vaarsuvius.”

Hinjo immediately relaxed, his hand dropping from the hilt of his katana, but he obviously hadn’t completely let his guard down. Aarindarius understood. He wouldn’t instantaneously trust a stranger who had teleported into his home either. “Vaarsuvius! Well, welcome, Aarindarius. Vaarsuvius helped the Azurites more than I can say.” The paladin gestured for the wizard to sit down. “Make yourself comfortable.”

They both sat down across from each other, Aarindarius crossing his legs and keeping his gaze impassive. “I came to ask after Vaarsuvius, actually. She has been away from our village for many years, and the news we have received regarding her has been fragmented and outlandish. I wished to make sure that she was still alive, as well as see her and see if she if she is recognizable as the elf that left us.” He allowed another sheepish smile to cross his lips. “I fear that I watch too much after those that are close to me. I am sure that my concerns are unfounded.”

Hinjo’s eyes sharpened slightly, obviously picking up on the fact that Aarindarius wasn’t sharing something, but he let it go. “Well, Vaarsuvius was alive last I saw. That was roughly a month and a half ago. We traveled together for quite some time, but I can’t tell you much about him.”

Aarindarius spent less than a second wondering about the error in pronouns—he had found that non-Ivyleaf natives did that a lot. He arched an eyebrow, clasping his hands on his knee and keeping his knuckle away from his teeth. “Oh?”

“He spent a lot of his time working on spells to find a part of his adventuring party that we separated from in Azure city.”

Aarindarius cocked his head curiously.

“He’s become part of an adventuring party since you last saw him. They are a good group—heroes of Azure City.” Hinjo put his hand on his knee, smiling with a hint of wariness in his eyes. “If I may ask, how do you know Vaarsuvius? Are you his spouse?”

Aarindarius covered his mouth, stifling a laugh. “No, I am not.” His eyes on the surface were merry, but if Hinjo looked deep enough, he could see a core of worry and seriousness. “But Vaarsuvius and I are rather close. Do you know where I could find her?”

Hinjo hesitated, shifting suspiciously, trying to weigh the elf before him. Did he trust it or not? “…Last time I saw him, he was leaving to go to Sandsedge. I can’t tell you much about where he may have gone beyond there.” Can’t, won’t, it was all the same. He had told the stranger enough.

Aarindarius dipped his head, noting that the paladin was hiding something but unwilling to press him for anymore information due to the circumstances. “Thank you kindly.” He smiled and stood up. “I shall see myself out.”

He did.

Thoughts?

My one complaint is having to do with the first section. For the first several paragraphs of the first section, the action seems to from Vaarsuvius' viewpoint, then switching to Redcloak's, then Tsukiko's. It's not bad or incorrect, it just flows awkwardly in my opinion.

[Monzach]

You'll have to remind me who Yirish is.

And a new banner.

Redcloak's assistant hobgoblin. I may have misspelled his name, though.