New OOTS products from CafePress
New OOTS t-shirts, ornaments, mugs, bags, and more
Page 19 of 50 FirstFirst ... 9101112131415161718192021222324252627282944 ... LastLast
Results 541 to 570 of 1474
  1. - Top - End - #541
    Orc in the Playground
     
    Meg's Avatar

    Join Date
    Jun 2009
    Location
    Minnesota, ya?
    Gender
    Female

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by Lycan 01 View Post
    @ CheeseMuncher: A math... paper? You, sir, have just discovered a previously unknown circle of Hell...
    That's ma'am, to you, bub. And it's not too horrendous, just annoying, because my typical eloquence seems to be ill-functioning.

    ...And that is how I met your father.

  2. - Top - End - #542
    Colossus in the Playground
     
    CoffeeIncluded's Avatar

    Join Date
    Oct 2009
    Location
    New York
    Gender
    Female

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Oh, uhm...Did you like my V/IFCC one?

  3. - Top - End - #543
    Titan in the Playground
     
    MindFlayer

    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    @ CheeseMuncher: Oh, my mistake.


    @ CoffeIncluded: You mean the one with the IFCC singing that song, and V being revived with shell-shock? Yeah, that one was good.
    Anemoia: Nostalgia for a time you've never known.

  4. - Top - End - #544
    Dwarf in the Playground
    Join Date
    Mar 2009
    Gender
    Male2Female

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by Aaron View Post
    ......how so? That V is half-ninja?
    I think Zani's picturing getting the two alone with her together, ifyaknowwhatImean.

  5. - Top - End - #545
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    Sstoopidtallkid's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2007
    Location
    Texas...for now
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by Kyronea View Post
    I think Zani's picturing getting the two alone with her together, ifyaknowwhatImean.
    Study group?
    [/sarcasm]
    FAQ is not RAW!
    Avatar by the incredible CrimsonAngel.
    Saph:It's surprising how many problems can be solved by one druid spell combined with enough aggression.
    I play primarily 3.5 D&D. Most of my advice will be based off of this. If my advice doesn't apply, specify a version in your post.

  6. - Top - End - #546
    Titan in the Playground
     
    MindFlayer

    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    *facepalm*

    Yes. Yes, Sstupidtallkid. They're studying for an A&P test...


    Anemoia: Nostalgia for a time you've never known.

  7. - Top - End - #547
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Dark Faun's Avatar

    Join Date
    May 2009
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    I understood that she would be daydreaming about male V and female V making out with each other when nobody was watching...
    Formerly known as Discord here and Maladin on avatarspirit.net.

  8. - Top - End - #548
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    Sstoopidtallkid's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2007
    Location
    Texas...for now
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by Discord View Post
    I understood that she would be daydreaming about male V and female V making out with each other when nobody was watching...
    I thought the 3 of them making out was implied by "study group".
    [/sarcasm]
    FAQ is not RAW!
    Avatar by the incredible CrimsonAngel.
    Saph:It's surprising how many problems can be solved by one druid spell combined with enough aggression.
    I play primarily 3.5 D&D. Most of my advice will be based off of this. If my advice doesn't apply, specify a version in your post.

  9. - Top - End - #549
    Titan in the Playground
     
    MindFlayer

    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Anybody else have anything to say about my V x Cain crossover?



    I'm pondering writing something else tonight. I just feel creative right now... Should I do another chapter of the V x Cain thing, a random pairing, or another chapter of my Miko x RC fic, which I finally came up with some inspiration for?
    Anemoia: Nostalgia for a time you've never known.

  10. - Top - End - #550
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    Sstoopidtallkid's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2007
    Location
    Texas...for now
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by Lycan 01 View Post
    Anybody else have anything to say about my V x Cain crossover?



    I'm pondering writing something else tonight. I just feel creative right now... Should I do another chapter of the V x Cain thing, a random pairing, or another chapter of my Miko x RC fic, which I finally came up with some inspiration for?
    MikoxRC. I'm liking that one, and you need to go where the bunnies take you.
    [/sarcasm]
    FAQ is not RAW!
    Avatar by the incredible CrimsonAngel.
    Saph:It's surprising how many problems can be solved by one druid spell combined with enough aggression.
    I play primarily 3.5 D&D. Most of my advice will be based off of this. If my advice doesn't apply, specify a version in your post.

  11. - Top - End - #551
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Cracklord's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2008

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by Lycan 01 View Post
    Anybody else have anything to say about my V x Cain crossover?



    I'm pondering writing something else tonight. I just feel creative right now... Should I do another chapter of the V x Cain thing, a random pairing, or another chapter of my Miko x RC fic, which I finally came up with some inspiration for?
    Either is good.
    Nadir We,
    Youth Born,
    Blood Letters,
    Axe Weilders,
    Victors Still.

  12. - Top - End - #552
    Colossus in the Playground
     
    CoffeeIncluded's Avatar

    Join Date
    Oct 2009
    Location
    New York
    Gender
    Female

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    One Miko/Redcloak to go, please!

  13. - Top - End - #553
    Titan in the Playground
     
    MindFlayer

    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Crap.

    I had several ideas for the Miko x RC fic, but I forgot how most of the dialogue was supposed to go. And that's where most of the jokes are... It'll probably take me awhile to remember/rebuild most of the lines, especially since I'm having trouble concentrating. Sorry...

    Grah... I'm gonna go munch on a brownie. Hopefully, it'll help me concentrate. If I can't figure anything out, I'll just write up the next section of V x Cain, since its still very fresh in my mind...
    Anemoia: Nostalgia for a time you've never known.

  14. - Top - End - #554
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    Sstoopidtallkid's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2007
    Location
    Texas...for now
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    I tried the roller again:
    Yok-Yok+all the demon roaches at once...no.
    The IFCC+Soon Kim(incorporeal)...
    Horace Greenhilt+Therkala+Xykon.
    Tsukiko+Jephton/Haerta/Ganneron...that's workable. Definitely workable.

    Rolling plot:Pregnancy. NO! You'll get a nice, normal fic about a necromancer necrophiliac sleeping with 3 spirits of massive evil. I'm not that depraved. Yet.
    [/sarcasm]
    FAQ is not RAW!
    Avatar by the incredible CrimsonAngel.
    Saph:It's surprising how many problems can be solved by one druid spell combined with enough aggression.
    I play primarily 3.5 D&D. Most of my advice will be based off of this. If my advice doesn't apply, specify a version in your post.

  15. - Top - End - #555
    Colossus in the Playground
     
    CoffeeIncluded's Avatar

    Join Date
    Oct 2009
    Location
    New York
    Gender
    Female

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Can I try the first one tomorrow?

  16. - Top - End - #556
    Titan in the Playground
     
    MindFlayer

    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    *munches on chips and a brownie while trying to come up with ideas for M/RC*

    Yeah, no luck... I had a little progress, but nothing major. If anything, I came up with more stuff for V x Cain. Talk about counter-productive...



    Oh, and I can see the IFCC x Soon Kim working, for some reason...
    Last edited by Lycan 01; 2009-11-09 at 10:54 PM.
    Anemoia: Nostalgia for a time you've never known.

  17. - Top - End - #557
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    Sstoopidtallkid's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2007
    Location
    Texas...for now
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by CoffeeIncluded View Post
    Can I try the first one tomorrow?
    Of course. I could see any of them working, I just don't want to write most of them. They're all up for grabs.
    [/sarcasm]
    FAQ is not RAW!
    Avatar by the incredible CrimsonAngel.
    Saph:It's surprising how many problems can be solved by one druid spell combined with enough aggression.
    I play primarily 3.5 D&D. Most of my advice will be based off of this. If my advice doesn't apply, specify a version in your post.

  18. - Top - End - #558
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Cracklord's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2008

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    OK, felt a burning need to write something.
    I need all the critique I can get on this, so tell me what you think.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Durkon stumped along, making no pretences of stealth. It was a labyrinth that twisted and turned back on itself and stretched onwards seemingly without end. Without ryme or reason, the tunnels varied between worked and unworked stone. It seemed clear they were not made by any thinking, being – or at least, not a rational or sane one. The tunnels were rarely level, plunging and ascending, curving, intersecting and re-intersecting themselves again and again and again for no evident purpose beyond simple misdirection.

    The maze had seemed simple and straightforward on the outside, he thought darkly. ‘An excersise of the mind,’ according to Vaarsuvius. Right. More like a death trap shaped by the insane sorceries of a peerless illusionist completing his lifeswork. Progress was so slow he suspected he had in fact wove his way further from his eventual goal.

    Durkon had yet to run into the actual illusions or sorceries, but the maze was no less daunting for that. And the dwarf didn’t delude himself into thinking it would be long before he did.

    The tunnel he was following came to an abrupt end a door of carved ebony that stretched open at the slightest touch. Taking a deep breath, the dwarf steeled himself and stepped into the room.

    There was no bottom. He was standing at the edge of a great chasm, surrounded by staircases that led down to gallery’s and deeper still, as far as the eye could see.

    Gritting his teeth, Durkon chose a staircase at random, and started upwards. It was a narrow, twisting stair, without rails or supports, columns or even supporting walls to anchor it, but the stone was steady as bedrock beneath him anyway. It led down to a gallery, then turned left, branching of into four tiny rooms, each with a further four staircases leading down, deeper into the chasm.

    Stay consistent. Durkon told himself sternly. These things have a pattern to him. Make the same choice every time so you don’t lose your place.

    Thus reassured, he picked the leftmost room, and the leftmost staircase. A niggling voice reminded him that it was probably and unreasonable assumption to believe the engineering of this place would be consistent, and for all he knew, the architecture rearranged itself, but good old dwarven common sense bulldozed over the top of it. If he spent all his time worrying about things that might be the case, he’d never get started. Stick to what you can see, and deal with problems as they arise.

    He made his way lower, grumbling under his breath. The stairs made their way through a mist that smelled like incense, and ended in a wall. Durkon felt himself drawn to it, as if by gravity. He took one more staggering step, and walked onto the wall. He swayed with vertigo, shook his head and closed his eyes, then opened them as his perspective realighned.

    …He was exactly where he had started. He could even see the doorway he’d come through.

    Taking another stairway with bad grace he stumped along, trying each of the staircases. Sometimes he would make it as far as two galley’s before being thrown back. He had been right, he realized. The staircases were moving, without any reason or order.

    “This be madness.” He muttered, trying again

    Part of him wondered what would happen if he simply jumped over the edge. He’d probably die, hundreds of meters below the surface, but part of him wondered if that might be the only way down. Another part of him thought he’d probably just find himself back at square one again.

    He was once more on the second gallery, about to pick a staircase at random, when a mist swirled around him, moving on some breeze he couldn’t feel, through the still, dead air.
    He closed his eyes desperately, humming loudly as he forced his thick, blunt fingers in his ears.

    Dinnae look, Durkon. Dinnae look.
    Dinnae dae it. Ye’ll be sorry.
    Ae willnae….
    Joost ae quick yin. Ae willnae believe it anyway…


    The magic roared past him, as though he was flying at a tremendous speed.
    And then calm.

    He was in Azure City once again. The city was whole, as though the war had never happened, brilliantly, radiantly blue as the waters of Sapphire Bay (Beautiful as it was, their department of Nomenology desperately needed funding).

    Beside him was a women he recognised, and his heart leapt. Her pale skin glowed, her short blue hair cascaded to her shoulders like a waterfall, her eyes still gleamed with intelligence, wisdom and mischief. Perhaps he remembered more mischief and less wisdom, but her full lips still seemed to contain more smiles then most elves would experience in a lifetime.

    She was wearing that dress she’d worn on their first date, cut to emphasise the perfection of each curve. Her stomach was flat and athletic, and her build was lean and strong, yet she had a build most women would only dream of.

    “You’re back.” She said, resting a smooth arm around his shoulders. The heat of her flesh warmed him to the bone. “I thought you’d be gone for much longer.”

    “Sae did Ae.”

    He tried to take her hand, but there was something interfering with the motion. It didn’t matter. She was here, and she was perfect.

    “I missed you.” She said with a giggle, a sound not the least bit girlish, but both husky and womanly at the same time. Not ladylike either, but that wasn’t really what he was looking for.

    “Ae missed ye to, lass.” He replied quite honestly.

    She raised an eyebrow and gave a coy smile, which made him take a deep breath in an attempt to control his suddenly pounding heart.

    “Really?” She said, her voice breathy. “Didn’t meet anyone else?”

    He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. But she didn’t relent. She wouldn’t be herself if she did.

    “No pretty dwarven women with blond braids?” She said, leaning over. “No nymphs knocked head over heels by your polite chivalrous nature?” She continued, her lips barely a foot from his. “No one at all?”

    It took Durkon a few moments to remembeber he was supposed to answer.

    “Maybe next time then.” She whispered, and kissed him as he leaned forwad.


    It was a few moments before he noticed a feeling. Wind was whistling around him, and he felt light.

    He was flying…

    No. He was falling.

    In the grips of the vision he’d stepped of the edge of a staircase, and was plummeting into oblivion. The walls were a blur, and while he still couldn’t see the bottom he knew the rest of his life could be measured in a matter of seconds. And then he stopped, hanging motionless for a moment before being released to sprawl on the ground in an undignified heap.

    “What joost-“

    “You’re brave, and strong. The sort of man I want beside me, when fimbulvinter blows.” A deep voice answered before he could finish his question. “Wouldn’t have you die this way. Someone like you needs a death with meaning. And you don't have long left.”

    Durkon pulled himself upright quickly, reaching for his hammer. “Ah’d thank ye, but Ae dinnae ken who ye are joost yet, an’ if ah hae tae kill ye it would be a waste, sae…” He said, leaving it hanging while taking the measure of the figure.

    He appeared an old man, stooped with age and time, but strong enough to have gotten that old despite plenty of people trying to see to it his natural lifespan was unduly shortened. He had a long grey beard any dwarf would envy, and a heavy fur lined cloak that masked the majority of his features. He was leaning on what looked like a staff, although it was hard to tell in the dim light.

    He seemed out of place, realer then his surroundings, though Durkon wasn’t sure why. He supposed it could be Girard, but that was unlikely. Everyone they’d asked said he was dead.

    “You know my name.” The hooded man said softly. “Just as I know yours. I’m an old friend of yours, Durkon Thundershield.”

    “Ae cannae claim tae hae seen ye before.” Durkon said, more then a little confused.

    The man turned slowly, and Durkon could see a single blue eye, beneath a heavy brow that glittered with unknowable wisdom. “You claim not to know me.” The apparation said, pushing away from the wall to stand over the dwarf, and he suddenly seemed very tall, even to a dwarf who’d grown used to looking up at people, and in his eye burned a keen and commanding light. “Yet you call me often. You swear by my beard, beg my son for favours and ask me to take your soul if you are lying.”

    A terrible suspicion entered the dwarf’s mind. Suddenly he felt unsteady, and pressed his shoulder against the wall for support.

    The figure moved across the floor in four quick strides and stared down at Durkon “You know me.”

    Durkon knew the figures name as well as his own, but the realization was so stupefying he couldn’t wrap his head around it, so shook his head instead. “You can’t be…”

    “You know I am. I am Allfather and lord, wizard and fool, and I have as many names as there are ways to die. I am called Father of Men, and World Builder, Terror and Evil Worker, Chieftain and Wanderer, and Lord of the Earth.”

    “I am called Glad of War, and Father of Victory, Singer, Deceiver and Father of Hosts. I am called Grímnir and Highest, Mighty One and Battle God, and many other things.”

    A dark shape formed behind him in the shadows, slinking over behind him, a lean, grey shape with burning, yellow eyes. It’s twin loped behind it, catching up and resting on it’s haunches, it’s gaze not wavering from the dwarf for so much as a second.

    “My wolves are Geri and Freki, my ravens are Memory and Thought, and my horse is Sleipnir.” Two enormous, scruffy carrion eaters alight on each of his shoulders, pressing their sharp beaks in his ear, their red eyes fixing on the dwarf.

    “I am Odin.” He said, his chin jutting as though proud at the very mention of his name. "And I have a proposition for you."
    Last edited by Cracklord; 2009-11-10 at 03:30 AM.
    Nadir We,
    Youth Born,
    Blood Letters,
    Axe Weilders,
    Victors Still.

  19. - Top - End - #559
    Titan in the Playground
     
    MindFlayer

    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    I felt like writing, and all I could come up with was more V x Cain... So, anyone up for Chapter 2?



    --- Chapter 2 ---


    Spoiler
    Show

    Commissar Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium, had finally run out of luck. Completely drained, he sank to his knees, panting for breath as he steadied himself with one hand and held his softly humming chainsword in the other. He'd lost his laspistol during the last assault, and his chainsword had many damaged or missing teeth after going toe-to-toe with the last Ork. His black greatcoat was stained with varying colors of mud and blood, and his uniform was ragged and tattered from the many close calls and flesh wounds he'd recieved during the close quarters fighting he'd barely managed to survive. Somehow he'd managed to keep his cap on, though the peaked cap was crooked atop his head and seemed to be barely clinging on for dear life. Gasping for air, Cain looked around himself to examine his surroundings. Several dead Orks were piled in the trench around him, though he was sure most of them were Jurgen's doing.

    Cain noticed the body sprawled out next to him was not an Ork, though it smelled the part. He realized to his horror that it was Jurgen - part of this was fear for the well-being of his friend, while part of it was the realization that he was finally out of human meatshields. Rolling his friend over, he found Jurgen alive but unconscious. A large dent was obvious on the side of his helmet, and Cain realized that he'd seen a bolt round ricochet off of his comrade's helmet during the fight, though he hadn't registered it during the fray. "Lucky..." Cain sighed, jealous of the fact that Jurgen wouldn't be awake to experience whatever fate the Orks had in store for them.

    As if on cue, a loud cry of "WAAAAAAAAAGH!!!" roared from nearby, as the Orks launched another assault towards their position. Cain feebly sat back, fishing an extra service laspistol from the jumble of pouches on the combat webbing Jurgen always wore. There was no use in running. He didn't have the energy, and even if he did, the Orks would cut him down the moment he emerged from the trench. So, as he flicked off the safety of the laspistol, he prepared to make one final stand against the coming tide of green. Suicide was out of the question; Cain was too much of a coward for that.

    The footfalls of the approaching Ork assault grew louder and louder. In seconds, they would be upon him. Cain sighed. He'd been a Hero of the Imperium all his life, according to everyone but himself. He'd always been a coward, looking out for his own skin. But, with no other alternative available, he decided he should at least die like a Hero of the Imperium... There was just one thing that kept him from acting out this resolution, though, and that was the creature that materialized in front of him at that very second.

    There was a bright flash of light, and the sound of electricity discharging into the air. In front of Cain in the trench, where nothing had been the moment before, now stood a human. No... With a gasp, Cain realized that what stood before him was not human at all. Tall, slender and elegant, the creature was clad in red robes and a crimson cape, all of which wore strange golden glyphs and sigils along their borders. The creature had fair features, clear and pristine skin, pointed ears and purple eyes, as well as long purple hair tied back into a ponytail. No... No, it was not human at all. Standing before Commissar Cain, having just appeared from nowhere, was the most dangerous, mysterious, and feersome breed of Xeno in all the universe - an Eldar. And it was staring straight at him!

    ---

    Vaarsuvius was confused. Previously, she'd been sitting around a campfire with her friends, playfully insulting Roy about his airborne prowess. Now she was standing ankle deep in mud in what appeared to be a trench, surrounding by dead bodies, and there was a man in black sitting on the ground staring up at her with a horrified expression on his face. He was holding some sort of handheld weapon, it seemed, and he stank of fear and shame. Also, he seemed to have just pissed himself. There was another man sprawled out beside him, though he seemed to be unconscious, and he gave off a stench so horrific that V considered making a Fortitude Save.

    She turned her attention back towards the man in sitting on the ground in front of her. His mouth was hanging open, his jaw slack with what appeared to be shock. The weapon in his hand was shaking, and he appeared to be making some sort of strange choking or gagging noise. Either he was suffocating, or she'd scared the sense out of him with her random appearance. Probably the latter. She started to ask him about his identity and their location, but she suddenly noticed the sound of feet stomping and armor clanking. Wheeling about, she realized that someone or something was charging the trench they were in.

    It was at that exact moment that the first Ork reached the trench. Appearing atop the wall, he let out a loud roar upon setting his eyes on the elf below him. Vaarsuvius found herself momentarily stunned - what kind of Ork was this!? It was even larger than the Orcs she was used to facing, and it was weilding a rather viscious looking battle axe, which appeared to have some sort of metal teeth moving along the edge of the blade! However, her instincts quickly took over, and Vaarsuvious raised a hand up towards the brute to cast a spell. "Magic Missile!" she yelled.

    Vaarsuvius had expected the spell to work on what she expected to be a slightly stronger-than-usual Orc. She had expected it to hit the Orc in the face, his eyes turn into large black X's, and his body simply slump to the floor dead. Instead, the results were a lot more... brutal, than she'd hoped. An orb of purple arcane energy materialized in her hand. In an instant, it shot through the air and collided with the Ork atop the trench wall. The results disturbed the wizard the moment she witnessed them.

    The missile of arcane might, instead of dissappearing, impacted violently against the creature's skull before dissipating into a shower of sparks and whisps of energy. In a hideous display of physics, the Orks face was warped in a disturbing fashion as its forehead and nose caved into, its eyes ruptured, and the majority of its brain matter erupted from the back of its head. Its body was sent cartwheeling backwards, and the battle axe it had been holding managed to hang in the air for a moment or so before gravity brought it crashing to the ground in front of Vaarsuvius. A strange whimpering noise came from somewhere behind her.

    Vaarsuvius gaped in horror at what she'd just witnessed - at what she'd just done. (: Welcome to GRIMDARK, baby!) But before she could fully grasp what she'd just experienced, a sharp electrical crack exploded from behind her. A beam of vibrant red energy lanced through the air beside her, and her eyes quickly raced to follow it. It came to a stop in the dead center of another Ork's forehead, just as it emerged atop the trench to replace its fallen comrade. An instant later, she heard the man behind her begin to yell...

    ---

    Commissar Cain gaped at the Eldar standing in front of him. It was an alien, a filthy Xeno, the enemy! He needed to attack it, to kill it! But his hands were shaking to the point that even if he had the mental capacity to pull the trigger, he would miss no matter what. He tried to speak, but words could not come to him. All he could make were random choking noises, which he did so without thinking. At some point, he had lost control of his bladder. He was about to die, either at the hands of the Orks, or at the hands of an Eldar. And he didn't know which would be worse...

    The Eldar suddenly spun about, just as an Ork reached trench. The Ork, which was wielding a viscious looking chain axe, roared down at them and prepared to attack. But it never got the chance. "Magic Missile!" he heard the Eldar exclaim, its voice revealing its gender to be female, or so he believed. An instant later, a blast of blasphemous Warp energy ruptured forth from her hands, obliterating what had milliseconds before served as the Ork's skull. Cain whimpered at the sight he beheld, before he realized that the Eldar had barely put any effort into the attack. If killing the Ork had been that easy for her, she could have killed him without a second thought moments before. Which meant she did not - at the moment, at least - intend to kill him. Which meant there was a chance he could get out of this...

    Another Ork suddenly appeared at the top of the trench wall, which the Eldar failed to realize. She seemed to be distracted by something. The Ork was weilding some sort of ramshackle gun, which was aimed straight at the Eldar's head! Cain realized that if he didn't do something, he'd lose his only chance to suvive this thing! So, without hesitation, he opened fire with his laspistol, incenerating the Ork's face before it had a chance to fire. The Eldar seemed caught off guard by his killing of the Ork. "THERE WILL BE MORE OF THEM ANY SECOND!!" he yelled, taking aim at the top of the trench and preparing for the next Ork to appear. "WATCH OUT!!"

    --- End Chapter 2 ---


    I'm having too much fun with this...


    Well... What do ya'll think?

    Be honest! Is it okay? Boring? Not interesting enough? Complains? Comments? Compliments? C'mon, any feedback is appreciated!
    Anemoia: Nostalgia for a time you've never known.

  20. - Top - End - #560
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Cracklord's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2008

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by Lycan 01 View Post
    I felt like writing, and all I could come up with was more V x Cain... So, anyone up for Chapter 2?



    --- Chapter 2 ---


    Spoiler
    Show
    -magnificent crossover-


    I'm having too much fun with this...


    Well... What do ya'll think?

    Be honest! Is it okay? Boring? Not interesting enough? Complains? Comments? Compliments? C'mon, any feedback is appreciated!
    Ah. I like it. Much more my style of writing.
    Nadir We,
    Youth Born,
    Blood Letters,
    Axe Weilders,
    Victors Still.

  21. - Top - End - #561
    Titan in the Playground
     
    MindFlayer

    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    I thought the carnage might suit your fancy...


    Do you have anything else you might like to add? Like constructive criticism, questions or concerns, comments, et cetera?

    I like to know the pros and cons of my work. It helps me know what is good, and what needs work, that way I can provide the reader with a better product...
    Anemoia: Nostalgia for a time you've never known.

  22. - Top - End - #562
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Cracklord's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2008

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Well, if that's your issue, than you lapsed a bit into keeping the plot moving in detriment to the story (i.e, the plot moves faster then the characters, giving it a hurried feel), and while Cyphus is wonderfully in character, but V feels a tad flat. Try exploring his/her reactions a bit more. V's personality is too over analyze and try to find explanations for everything, so give the readers an insight into his/her cognitive process.
    Not to say I didn't like it. The opposite is true.

    Incidentally, could you do this for mine?
    Nadir We,
    Youth Born,
    Blood Letters,
    Axe Weilders,
    Victors Still.

  23. - Top - End - #563
    Titan in the Playground
     
    MindFlayer

    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Aaaaah... See, this is what I'm looking for. A good analysis or my work, for better of worse...

    I understand why you feel Chapter 2 seemed rushed - the latter half/third was written in a more hurried manner, since I was getting tired and felt a need to get it down before I lost focus. I also felt it was getting long enough, and going to into much more detail would drag it out to a length the average reader may not enjoy in one sitting.

    I'm glad you think Cyphus is in character, although I'm quite sure I was writing about Ciaphas Cain. I get what you mean, though. I tried to portray him accurately... V does seem a tad flat, but again, this is due to me leaving out some details due to length and tiredness. I can assure you, though, I intended to start Chapter 3 with V trying to analyze the while situation and understand what is going on... Thus, more character developement. I hope...

    And I'm very glad to hear you liked it.


    Why, certainly! Which ones would you like analyzed? I'm a bit too tired to do it tonight, and I'm about to head off to bed. But just tell me which ones you want reviewed, and I'll work on them tommorrow after class.
    Last edited by Lycan 01; 2009-11-10 at 01:39 AM.
    Anemoia: Nostalgia for a time you've never known.

  24. - Top - End - #564
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Cracklord's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2008

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by Cracklord View Post
    Spoiler
    Show
    Durkon stumped along, making no pretences of stealth. It was a labyrinth that twisted and turned back on itself and stretched onwards seemingly without end. Without ryme or reason, the tunnels varied between worked and unworked stone. It seemed clear they were not made by any thinking, being – or at least, not a rational or sane one. The tunnels were rarely level, plunging and ascending, curving, intersecting and re-intersecting themselves again and again and again for no evident purpose beyond simple misdirection.

    The maze had seemed simple and straightforward on the outside, he thought darkly. ‘An excersise of the mind,’ according to Vaarsuvius. Right. More like a death trap shaped by the insane sorceries of a peerless illusionist completing his lifeswork. Progress was so slow he suspected he had in fact wove his way further from his eventual goal.

    Durkon had yet to run into the actual illusions or sorceries, but the maze was no less daunting for that. And the dwarf didn’t delude himself into thinking it would be long before he did.

    The tunnel he was following came to an abrupt end a door of carved ebony that stretched open at the slightest touch. Taking a deep breath, the dwarf steeled himself and stepped into the room.

    There was no bottom. He was standing at the edge of a great chasm, surrounded by staircases that led down to gallery’s and deeper still, as far as the eye could see.

    Gritting his teeth, Durkon chose a staircase at random, and started upwards. It was a narrow, twisting stair, without rails or supports, columns or even supporting walls to anchor it, but the stone was steady as bedrock beneath him anyway. It led down to a gallery, then turned left, branching of into four tiny rooms, each with a further four staircases leading down, deeper into the chasm.

    Stay consistent. Durkon told himself sternly. These things have a pattern to him. Make the same choice every time so you don’t loose your place.
    Thus reassured, he picked the leftmost room, and the leftmost staircase. A niggling voice reminded him that it was probably and unreasonable assumption to believe the engineering of this place would be consistent, and for all he knew, the architecture rearranged itself, but good old dwarven common sense bulldozed over the top of it. If he spent all his time worrying about things that might be the case, he’d never get tarted. Stick to what you can see, and deal with problems as they arise.

    He made his way lower, grumbling under his breath. The stairs made their way through a mist that smelled like incense, and ended in a wall. Durkon felt himself drawn to it, as if by gravity. He took one more staggering step, and walked onto the wall. He swayed with vertigo, shook his head and closed his eyes, then opened them as his perspective realighned.

    …He was exactly where he had started. He could even see the doorway he’d come through.

    Taking another stairway with bad grace he stumped along, trying each of the staircases. Sometimes he would make it as far as two galley’s before being thrown back. He had been right, he realized. The staircases were moving, without any reason or order.

    “This be madness.” He muttered, trying again

    Part of him wondered what would happen if he simply jumped over the edge. He’d probably die, hundreds of meters below the surface, but part of him wondered if that might be the only way down. Another part of him thought he’d probably just find himself back at square one again.

    He was once more on the second gallery, about to pick a staircase at random, when a mist swirled around him, moving on some breeze he couldn’t feel, through the still, dead air.
    He closed his eyes desperately, humming loudly as he forced his thick, blunt fingers in his ears.

    Dinnae look, Durkon. Dinnae look.
    Dinnae dae it. Ye’ll be sorry.
    Ae willnae….
    Joost ae quick yin. Ae willnae believe it anyway…


    The magic roared past him, as though he was flying at a tremendous speed.
    And then calm.

    He was in Azure City once again. The city was whole, as though the war had never happened, brilliantly, radiantly blue as the waters of Sapphire Bay (Beautiful as it was, their department of Nomenology desperately needed funding).

    Beside him was a women he recognised, and his heart leapt. Her pale skin glowed, her short blue hair cascaded to her shoulders like a waterfall, her eyes still gleamed with intelligence, wisdom and mischief. Perhaps he remembered more mischief and less wisdom, but her full lips still seemed to contain more smiles then most elves would experience in a lifetime.
    She was wearing that dress she’d worn on their first date, cut to emphasise the perfection of each curve. Her stomach was flat and athletic, and her build was lean and strong, yet she had a build most women would only dream of.

    “You’re back.” She said, resting a smooth arm around his shoulders. The heat of her flesh warmed him to the bone. “I thought you’d be gone for much longer.”

    “Sae did Ae.”

    He tried to take her hand, but there was something interfering with the motion. It didn’t matter. She was here, and she was perfect.

    “I missed you.” She said with a giggle, a sound not the least bit girlish, but both husky and womanly at the same time. Not ladylike either, but that wasn’t really what he was looking for.

    “Ae missed ye to, lass.” He replied quite honestly.

    She raised an eyebrow and gave a coy smile, which made him take a deep breath in an attempt to control his suddenly pounding heart.

    “Really?” She said, her voice breathy. “Didn’t meet anyone else?”

    He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. But she didn’t relent. She wouldn’t be herself if she did.

    “No pretty dwarven women with blond braids?” She said, leaning over. “No nymphs knocked head over heels by your polite chivalrous nature?” She continued, her lips barely a foot from his. “No one at all?”

    It took Durkon a few moments to remembeber he was supposed to answer.

    “Maybe next time then.” She whispered, and kissed hm.


    It was a few moments before he noticed a feeling. Wind was whistling around him, and he felt light.

    He was flying…

    No. He was falling.

    In the grips of the vision he’d stepped of the edge of a staircase, and was plummeting into oblivion. The walls were a blur, and while he still couldn’t see the bottom he knew the rest of his life could be measured in a matter of seconds. And then he stopped, hanging motionless for a moment before being released to sprawl on the ground in an undignified heap.

    “What joost-“

    “You’re brave, and strong. The sort of man I want beside me, when fimbulvinter blows.” A deep voice answered before he could finish his question. “Wouldn’t have you die this way. Someone like you needs a death with meaning. And you don't have long left.”

    Durkon pulled himself upright quickly, reaching for his hammer. “Ah’d thank ye, but Ae dinnae ken who ye are joost yet, an’ if ah hae tae kill ye it would be a waste, sae…” He said, leaving it hanging while taking the measure of the figure.

    He appeared an old man, stooped with age and time, but strong enough to have gotten that old despite plenty of people trying to see to it his natural lifespan was unduly shortened. He had a long grey beard any dwarf would envy, and a heavy fur lined cloak that masked the majority of his features. He was leaning on what looked like a staff, although it was hard to tell in the dim light.

    He seemed out of place, realer then his surroundings, though Durkon wasn’t sure why. He supposed it could be Girard, but that was unlikely. Everyone they’d asked said he was dead.

    “You know my name.” The hooded man said softly. “Just as I know yours. I’m an old friend of yours, Durkon Thundershield.”

    “Ae cannae claim tae hae seen ye before.” Durkon said, more then a little confused.

    The man turned slowly, and Durkon could see a single blue eye, beneath a heavy brow that glittered with unknowable wisdom. “You claim not to know me.” The apparation said, pushing away from the wall to stand over the dwarf, and he suddenly seemed very tall, even to a dwarf who’d grown used to looking up at people, and in his eye burned a keen and commanding light. “Yet you call me often. You swear by my beard, beg my son for favours and ask me to take your soul if you are lying.”

    A terrible suspicion entered the dwarf’s mind. Suddenly he felt unsteady, and pressed his shoulder against the wall for support.

    The figure moved across the floor in four quick strides and stared down at Durkon “You know me.”

    Durkon knew the figures name as well as his own, but the realization was so stupefying he couldn’t wrap his head around it, so shook his head instead. “You can’t be…”

    “You know I am. I am Allfather and lord, wizard and fool, and I have as many names as there are ways to die. I am called Father of Men, and World Builder, Terror and Evil Worker, Chieftain and Wanderer, and Lord of the Earth.”

    “I am called Glad of War, and Father of Victory, Singer, Deceiver and Father of Hosts. I am called Grímnir and Highest, Mighty One and Battle God, and many other things.”

    A dark shape formed behind him in the shadows, slinking over behind him, a lean, grey shape with burning, yellow eyes. It’s twin loped behind it, catching up and resting on it’s haunches, it’s gaze not wavering from the dwarf for so much as a second.

    “My wolves are Geri and Freki, my ravens are Memory and Thought, and my horse is Sleipnir.” Two enormous, scruffy carrion eaters alight on each of his shoulders, pressing their sharp beaks in his ear, their red eyes fixing on the dwarf.

    “I am Odin.” He said, his chin jutting as though proud at the very mention of his name. "And I have a proposition for you."
    The one I posted a few minutes before you did.

    Quote Originally Posted by MasamuneSSX View Post
    The "Playa" award - Given to the character that treats fellow lovers as disposable pleasures, en masse.
    The "Village Bike" award - Given to the character that has starred in the most stories. Pretty much a forgone conclusion....
    The "Tainted Love" award - Given to the character that treats the object of their lust with the same care and attention as the Marquis De Sade.
    I nominate: Oracle for the 'Playa' award, followed by Nale.

    Both have a surprising number of stories of this nature written about them, and none of them treat it like it meant anything in later installments, even by the same authors

    Village Bike: Vaarsuvius, followed by Zz'Dtri.

    Zz'Dtri has been a very popular subject, but the winner is clear.

    Tainted love: Lee (Belial) has this one hands down, followed by Belkar.

    Belial skins Belkar alive, violates him, burns him, and so on. (full details in the story). Other uses involve playing mind-games with an innocent Baker, and messing with the heart of a Chimera.
    Belkar, well there is no tender and loving individual beneath his bluster, lets leave it at that.

    Quote Originally Posted by MasamuneSSX View Post
    Best Series - A crack story that stretches over 3 or more episodes
    Best Newcomer - Awarded to an author that has so far only written one story (and we hope will write more)
    Most Romantic Story - Pure fresh squeezed "awwwwww".
    Most Disturbing Story - Pure fresh squeezed "ohgodmakeitstop". Arguably the most coveted award.
    Watersmurf has best series. Sorry Zanaril, but I find myself far more immersed in her work.

    Best newcomer goes (in my mind at least) to Asta Kask, because I actually quite like Wagner.

    Most Romantic... pass.
    Kidding. Esmerelder or Zanzaril. Probably Esmerelder.

    Most disturbing. Well, either blow my own trumpet, or Zanzaril. Or perhaps Discord.
    Last edited by Cracklord; 2009-11-10 at 02:01 PM.
    Nadir We,
    Youth Born,
    Blood Letters,
    Axe Weilders,
    Victors Still.

  25. - Top - End - #565
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Zanaril's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2006
    Location
    England

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by Cracklord View Post
    Watersmurf has best series. Sorry Zanaril, but I find myself far more immersed in her work.
    I don't blame you, she's much, much better making stories work.
    Last edited by Zanaril; 2009-11-10 at 10:52 AM.
    This post may contain sarcasm.
    DeviantArt

  26. - Top - End - #566
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Dark Faun's Avatar

    Join Date
    May 2009
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    I agree that she has the best series, but my favorite series is Zanaril's.

    Cracklord, I just read your last installment. Very well done. I actually want Morathi and V to be together.

    And she was shaking with exhaustion? She? V must have a Constitution score higher than O-Chul's.

    Lycan 01, I like your story. I find the demon roach's comment takes away from the story though.

    I'm surprised Ciaphas managed to oneshot an ork with a flashlight though.
    Last edited by Dark Faun; 2009-11-10 at 01:00 PM.
    Formerly known as Discord here and Maladin on avatarspirit.net.

  27. - Top - End - #567
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Cracklord's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2008

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by Discord View Post
    And she was shaking with exhaustion? She? V must have a Constitution score higher than O-Chul's.
    Who said it was just v. It is a Slaaneshian party after all. Anything goes. She was probably doing a whole lot of other, less savory things as well.


    Quote Originally Posted by Discord View Post
    Cracklord, I just read your last installment. Very well done. I actually want Morathi and V to be together.
    We'll see.
    Last edited by Cracklord; 2009-11-10 at 02:02 PM.
    Nadir We,
    Youth Born,
    Blood Letters,
    Axe Weilders,
    Victors Still.

  28. - Top - End - #568
    Titan in the Playground
     
    MindFlayer

    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Quote Originally Posted by Discord View Post
    Lycan 01, I like your story. I find the demon roach's comment takes away from the story though.

    I'm surprised Ciaphas managed to oneshot an ork with a flashlight though.
    Thanks. I figured people would either like them or hate them...

    Sometimes you roll 6s.



    I'll try to write Chapter 3 later on, but I've got to read and analyze Cracklord's last story first, though. Should be interesting...
    Anemoia: Nostalgia for a time you've never known.

  29. - Top - End - #569
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    Water-Smurf's Avatar

    Join Date
    Aug 2009
    Location
    Among the spiders
    Gender
    Female

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    Alrighty, then. Thanks to everyone who told me about Right-Eye!

    And thanks for the tips about photobucket and the hotlinking things. I'll try to figure that stuff out... once my techno-geek friend is in the vicinity...

    And I'm done with the spawnfic. I may do another--I'm not sure. And this is not necessarily canon to my stories, so events mentioned here may not happen in the future, though you'd be right to assume that the things already written in my series have happened and other things have happened as well (stuff like everyone finding out and things like that). If you find any plot holes, ask me about them, because I actually did a lot of stuff intentionally. I've put an unhealthy amount of thought into fanfiction. Questions are always welcome.

    I'm not sure how happy I am with it, but I always get that feeling before I get feedback, so I'm not too worried. Enjoy!

    Spoiler
    Show
    The wind rustled through her hair, making it fly out in wild tendrils and chilling her face. Her legs swung gently over the edge of the small canyon she was sitting on the edge of. If she looked directly down into it, she would get a slightly dizzying feeling, but it was only about five feet deep. She knew that it wasn’t deep for adults. It looked deep to her. Maybe she should jump, just to feel the rush that came with the fall and the bounce that came with landing in the sand

    “Does she even pay attention to anything?”

    The canyon had been dug out a long time ago. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe one of the adults would know.

    Her pink dress lovingly caressed her ankles, making the little elven runes on the seams dance. If she concentrated, she could read it. It was an old poem. A favorite of her mother’s.

    “Octavius, be nice.” A gentle, wistful sigh. A sigh of a romantic. “Remember all the games we used to play? She’s just thinking. Remember how we used to see if we could snap her out of it? She loved that game.”

    “Oh shut up.” Not the voice of a romantic. “It’s not like Tiasal ever noticed that we were playing with her. She just automatically giggled at everything. Never spoke. Have you ever heard her say anything? I haven’t.”

    Tiasal hugged her knees, looking up at the other side of the canyon, staring at the rolling fields. Nothing but grass for miles. And a giant open sky.

    It would be nice to fly in it. Just perfect blue.

    She looked down at her hands. Blue and pale green worked out together. Pale green and milky white and pink didn’t mix well. She hated looking at her hand on Aunt Haley’s or Uncle Elan’s any other pale human’s or elf’s. It just reminded her of things she didn’t want to remember.

    She wanted to know what her father was like. Was he a beast? A gentleman? Something in between?

    “Just look at her. Staring at herself. Like she can’t believe she’s what she is. Do you think she even knows? She doesn’t say anything, so who knows how much she understands?”

    “Octavius, just stop. You were just talking the other day about how much you love her and how you expect me to team up with you to beat up any and all future boyfriends. She’s our sister.”

    “No sister of mine.”

    Deathly silence followed. The temperature went down several degrees. Tiasal kept her eyes glued to her hands. They were a little harder than most elves’, but her years of no manual labor had softened them so it was difficult to tell the difference. One would think that she would have calluses—she loved climbing trees—but her skin had been resistant to them.

    “She’s a little green girl. Other Parent would’ve never touched some goblin thug. You know she wouldn’t.”

    “Will you ever get over it? Other Parent had someone else after she and Parent got divorced. Parent still loves her and we do too.” There was a sigh. “Do we need to go over this again? Say it with me: ‘Other Parent fell in love with a goblin named Redcloak after she left Parent. They had a baby together. That baby’s our little half-sister.’”

    “That baby killed Other Parent.”

    Tiasal blankly looked up at the fields. Her brothers. Half-brothers. Right behind her.

    “Octavius, stop. Now.”

    “Oh, getting angry? Who should you be angry at? Your twin brother who’s been with you through everything? Or the little brat who murdered OUR Other Parent?!” There was a horrible sound of snarling. “She had a stupid, raping brute for a father. She’ll turn out just like him, the bastard goblin child.”

    She jumped up, her hands curling around a stone, and she spun to face them, hurling the rock towards the two dark-skinned wild elves. The stone hit Octavius point-blank on his temple, sending him back several steps, opening up a gash, and Tiasal ran at him with a roar. She slammed into the teenage elf, grabbing a handful of red hair and scrabbling viciously at every part of him she could get to. His brother, Terentius, immediately jumped to his aide, grasping the green girl by long purple hair, ripping her off of the bigger boy.

    Octavius snarled, blood flowing freely from the gash on his temple, and he stood, punching the little girl hard in the stomach. “YOU TOOK OTHER PARENT FROM US!”

    “Octavius, stop!” Terentius didn’t let Tiasal go, but he tried dragging her further away from the wrathful teenager. “She’s a kid!”

    “She’s a monster, that’s what she is! Look at her! All green! The gods made her kind to kill!” Octavius lunged forward, viciously punching her in the stomach again, provoking a squeal. “How many experience points are you worth, bastard?!”

    “Octavius, stop!”

    Tears started flowing freely from Octavius’s dark eyes, mixing up with the blood and giving his chocolate-colored skin a red tint. Tiasal bared her teeth, squirming in Terentius’s grip, growling at Octavius savagely.

    Tears splashed on the ground and Octavius grabbed the girl’s hair, using the unwilling Terentius as a restrainer, and slammed a fist into her face. Tiasal shouted in pain, snapping at the teenager’s fingers, and Octavius planted another fist in her stomach. “YOU KILLED OTHER PARENT!” Another punch. “IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT THAT SHE’S NOT STILL WITH US!” Another. “I HATE YOU!” Another. “I HATE YOU!” Another. “I HATE YOU!

    “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

    A blur of pale pink tackled Octavius to the ground, morphing into a brown and pink and red and yellow mess wrestling in the ground. Terentius, apparently only just realizing that he had just help beat up his little half-sister, picked Tiasal up and backed away, staring at the fight on the ground.

    “Tiasal? Are you okay?”

    The girl glared, twisting in the wild elf’s arms.

    “Wait, no! You’re not getting in on this too!”

    “YOU BASTARD! SHE’S A KID!”

    Now a familiar blond human teenager had Octavius pinned on the ground, both of them bruised and bleeding. “SHE’S YOUR LITTLE SISTER!”

    “LIKE HELL!”

    “GUYS!” Terentius cradled Tiasal, trying to keep her from getting out of his hold. “Tiasal needs to see someone! She’s bleeding!”

    Tiasal twisted viciously, desperate to get at Octavius. Her lips pursed up. Her eyes were practically on fire. She started to scream, furiously starting to bite at Terentius’s arms. In surprise, the elf dropped her. She hit her head on the ground, knocking her head on a rock, and darkness promptly overcame her.

    ---

    Tiasal looked up at the sky through the trees, squinting against the light and judging it to be noon. She should probably go home. Aunt Haley, Uncle Elan, and Aarindarius would get worried.

    She shrugged, shook out her tangled purple hair, and started running through the forest, savoring the feeling of her bare feet against the ground. Her pants and loose shirt were muddied and torn beyond recognition. She’d probably earn an exasperated lecture from Haley for it. Maybe an admonition from Aarindarius. She wasn’t afraid of that. She was more afraid of Elan trying to teach her how to sew the stuff back together. (It usually just devolved into Elan sheepishly going to his wife and asking for something to bandage up his bleeding fingers.)

    The sound of water reached her ears. They twitched madly and she let out a happy whoop, running towards the source until she came to a pond, jumping in without stopping to see if it was safe.

    Water wrapped around her tightly. Tiasal opened her eyes to watch the bubbles she breathed out float up past her, watching the little pond creatures swim by, flicking her with their little tails. She remembered her brothers once taking her out here. Octavius taught her to swim (“No, Tia, not like that! If you keep flailing, you’ll just get tired and sink like a rock!”) and Terentius told her about the tadpoles and fish that lived in the water (“I remember tadpoles are tadpoles because they look like—” “Octavius!” “…Uh, never mind.”). Were these tadpoles or fish?

    Her lungs started to squirm for air. She started to swim up, but she met resistance.

    The pressure in her chest to breathe was getting a little uncomfortable.

    The girl looked down, making a little sound at the back of her throat, and tried to see what was keeping her from the surface.

    Her foot was caught in the crevice of a breaking log.

    She needed to breathe. She kicked at the log, starting to thrash, and pain started flaring up from her arms, legs, and torso. The girl savagely started ripping at the wood, fear and panic growing in her chest like a monster, darkness edging her vision, and she opened her mouth to breathe…

    A hand pulled her out. Light exploded in her eyes. She fell on the forest floor, scraping up her knees and shaking, coughing and whimpering in fear and pain.

    “Can you breathe?”

    The voice was unfamiliar. Tiasal had never met someone outside of her field and home, though, so she couldn’t imagine that a stranger could hold ill-will towards her. She nodded, letting her eyes open a crack to look down at her body.

    She shrieked. Black things wriggled and stuck to her skin, causing pain even though she didn’t know why. She resisted the urge to thrash in panic, instead trying to shake the things off wildly.

    “Don’t worry, don’t worry. Calm down. They’re harmless if you get them off, but they can’t be shaken like that.”

    Tiasal’s screams subsided into whimpers and she forced herself to stop panicking, hugging herself tightly, trembling, and she glanced up at her benefactor.

    He was green like her, only it was a darker shade—emerald. And his skin was different. Scaly. A goblin? A real goblin?

    She looked up at his face. There was an eye patch over his left eye and he looked a little like her, but that was probably because he was a goblin. (Was he glowing? Tiasal could swear that he was glowing.) He sat in front of her, smiling encouragingly, and gestured with his hands. She noticed that he had a lot of scars on them. “It’s scary the first time you see them, but they can’t hurt you beyond a bit of a sting. Slip your nails between them and your skin and they’ll be forced to detach.”

    Tiasal nodded, sniffing, and obediently did as the older goblin told. With a weird pop, one of the first black creatures fell off. She was bleeding where it had been. She was bleeding much more than she should have.

    She let out a fearful whimper.

    “Don’t worry. It’s something they do—make you bleed a little more. You’ll be better soon. Just try to get them off.”

    Tiasal bobbed her head, sniffing again and starting to work on getting the things off. The adult murmured soft words of encouragement all the while, making tiny motions with his hands as if he intended to hold or help her, but then stopping with sad realization on his face. Tiasal never spoke.

    Finally, green skin was only stained red without blotches of black. The things were gone, wriggling on the ground and crawling back into the murky pond.

    She looked up, biting her lip gently enough so that her sharp tusks didn’t break the skin, and cocked her head curiously, silently questioning the other goblin.

    He stood up, a sad smile playing across his lips. “I wish I could bring you to your home or wrap up your cuts, but I can’t do that. You’ll understand when you’re older, I hope.”

    “TIASAL!”

    The girl looked up at the shout from her aunt.

    “It looks like someone’s looking for you. Hurry and tell her that you got bit by leeches. She’ll know what to do.”

    Tiasal looked up at the goblin again, question more insistent in her face.

    The goblin hesitated briefly. “Just call me Uncle, if you want a name.” He smiled, a hint of playfulness mixed with wistfulness sparking in his eyes. “I’m probably going to get in trouble by coming out like this, but I think it was worth it to meet you.”

    Tiasal’s face was the picture of a question mark. Then Haley stumbled into the clearing, letting out a shout. “Tiasal! What did you do to yourself?!”

    The girl looked at her aunt blankly, then glanced back at the goblin. He wasn’t there anymore.


    ---

    The shouting was much too loud, but it was completely deserved. Beating up your little sister? Really? When she was less than a third your age?

    Terentius stared at his shoes as Inkyrius shouted at him about ‘a sense of responsibility’ and ‘realizing that some people need his protection more than his brother.’ Octavius actually looked genuinely guilty. He knew that he had let his anger out on the wrong person, and Tiasal was probably in for one hell of an apology and really nice treatment after this was over. A blond human teenager with big blue eyes and a wiry build, Haley and Elan’s son, Abram, looked thoroughly indignant that he had to be shouted at too, sometimes giving a bitter mutter about ‘no good deed goes unpunished.’

    The beaten and bloody boys stood in one straight line in front of the kitchen counter. Durkon, looking disappointed, made his rounds through them, healing up all the cuts and bruises they had received in the scuffle. Belkar sat on the kitchen counter, a disapproving scowl on his face. He probably would have high-fived each of the boys if they had just been fighting with each other, but even he seemed to draw the line at ganging up on little girls. Inkyrius and Haley stood shoulder-to-shoulder, raining hell on their children, and Elan stood to the side, content in letting his wife handle the discipline. Blackwing glared down from his perch on the fridge like an omen of death. The only reason Roy and Aarindarius weren’t there was because of the fact that no one had informed them of what had happened. Aarindarius was probably contentedly reading up in his tower and Roy was probably in the fields, training with his sword.

    Blackwing let out a sigh and started cleaning his feathers, too tired to deal with this. Ravens weren’t supposed to live so long. It was only by virtue of magic that the bird was still young, and he had to admit it: ever since Vaarsuvius died, he had been rather listless. He did his best with his late master’s kids, though. That’s what they all were trying.

    “Vaarsuvius is dead?”

    Aarindarius stared at the humans before him in shock, slowly lowering himself into a chair so he could be at eye-level. “No… she couldn’t be… She can be revived! She is much too young to have died of old age.”

    Roy and Elan, the only two Order members with a high enough Charisma score to be trusted with this, both exchanged glances nervously. Elan fidgeted, sniffing and eyes getting glassy, and quickly looked down at his knees from his seat on the couch. Roy touched his shoulder gently before looking back up at the elven wizard.

    “That would be true, yes. But a lich named Xykon bound Vaarsuvius’s soul before we could do any revival. We’re looking for the sapphire he used, but we need to find him first. That may take a long time.”

    Aarindarius bit his knuckle, closing his eyes silently. One jewel in the hands of one epic-level lich. It could be discarded or carried anywhere.

    He had a feeling that it would be a very long time until he saw Vaarsuvius again.

    “I’m sorry.” Roy looked down, rubbing his hands together. “Do you know where Vaarsuvius’s ex-spouse lives?”

    Aarindarius looked up, taking his knuckle out of his mouth and placing his hand firmly on his knee. “Inkyrius? I think I should be the one to break the news. Kyrie has been rather fragile as of late.” Well, an attack from a dragon quickly followed by a divorce would do that to an elf.

    “We don’t ask because of the news.” Roy took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Vaarsuvius died of childbirth.” V didn’t help it by fighting right afterwards, but then again, there had been little choice. “It’s a girl.”

    Aarindarius froze, staring, lavender eyes wide and back stiff. “Excuse me?”

    “She had a daughter.” Roy looked up, gaze steady. “We know what we’re asking is huge, but none of us knew where else to turn. The father…” there was an awkward pause as the fighter searched for the words, “the father is in just as much a state to handle this as Vaarsuvius is, and he didn’t exactly leave any family for us to go to.”

    Aarindarius nodded numbly, questions bubbling but mind too tired and grief-stricken to care. “I don’t think that Inkyrius is a good choice.” He slowly laced his fingers, staring at his palms. “Kyrie will accept responsibility no matter what the situation and parentage, but the child won’t be supported properly. Inkyrius doesn’t have the emotional, physical, or financial resources to care for a third child right now.” It was generally a bad idea to give the child of an ex-spouse to an elf that could barely afford the therapy already needed for its entire family. “It would be the end of everything.”

    Elan looked up, struggling to smile and hide the tears he had rubbed away. “Th-Then maybe Haley and I can try to take care of her. Haley’s pregnant, so we’re going to have a family soon anyway.”

    Aarindarius roused himself from the vague daze he had fallen into, looking up at the blond. “With all due respect, the ability to have children does not equal the emotional maturity to raise them.” He kept his hands clasped, shaking with the effort to keep the rising grief from meeting the surface. “Vaarsuvius, in all senses of the word, was like a daughter to me. I do not have what is needed to raise a child alone, but I would be able to help you if you allowed me to stay with you. Because of my love for Vaarsuvius, I ask that you allow me to help take care of her daughter.”

    Aarindarius expected to meet some resistance. He didn’t. Roy and Elan both looked at each other as though a miracle had occurred. “Of course you may!” Roy smiled gratefully. “None of us really know the first thing about raising kids, and we owe it to V to do our best.”

    “I am glad for your loyalty to her.” The wizard nodded, unable to really smile, standing up slowly. “Where is the child?”

    “She’s with the rest of our party downstairs. Here, we’ll show you.”

    The humans went down the stairs first. Aarindarius’s pace was more sedate. His own body felt too heavy to carry. Vaarsuvius was dead. The little elf that he had practically raised, watched grow, and eventually sent into the world was gone.

    Was it his fault that she was dead? Should he have never forced her out of the tower? He had a feeling that the question would plague him for a long time.

    When he was down, Roy had taken a little bundle from a red-headed girl’s arms, surprisingly skilled at holding her and slowly giving her to Aarindarius.

    The wizard took her slowly, wondering if he should risk looking at her or not. He did.

    The little baby in his arms had mint green skin and teeny tiny tusks, hinting at goblinoid ancestry, but that didn’t bother Aarindarius at the moment. He was too tired to care at all just then. She had wisps of purple hair on her head, the delicate features of an elf under the roundness of babes, and deep violet eyes. The marks of her mother.

    Tenderness grew in the shadow of the wizard’s heartbreak. The baby smiled silently, reaching out and grasping one of his fingers in a green little fist, skin smooth against his. Just like the first time he held Suvie.

    He placed a very gentle kiss on the girl’s forehead, giving her a silent blessing before he realized that he had forgotten to ask an important question—the one question he really had the strength to know the answer to.

    “What is her name?”

    Everyone in the rag-tag team he saw before him glanced at each other.

    “…Well, V and the father called her Tiasal. That’s elven, right?”

    Aarindarius’s face broke in a sad smile.

    “What?”

    “Tiasal. It means ‘child of sweet dreams.’” Aarindarius rocked the baby in his arms gently. “Vaarsuvius, if she realized what it meant, loved her and the father dearly. ‘Sweet dreams’ translates from Ancient Elven to Modern Elven as an idiom for a short love affair that will never be regretted, even if it ends badly, because the love will always remain. It can also be translated to mean ‘beloved,’ so she declared her love for the father and the child at the same time.” Aarindarius looked down at the baby, noting that she was falling asleep. His eyes reflected the light unusually well, even with all his blinking. “Vaarsuvius always was fond of meaningful names.”

    The baby remained asleep.


    Due to the word limit (holy crap I actually reached it!), the second part's in my next post.
    Last edited by Water-Smurf; 2009-11-10 at 05:51 PM.

    Spoiler
    Show

    The April Squickies Award for Best Crack Pairing Story


    Thank you so much to Kaytara for the avatar! It's of Redcloak's and Vaarsuvius's love child.

  30. - Top - End - #570
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    Water-Smurf's Avatar

    Join Date
    Aug 2009
    Location
    Among the spiders
    Gender
    Female

    Default Re: Crack Pairings 3 - 50% More Squick

    And next part!

    Spoiler
    Show
    It was a pity that the day had to be spent punishing kids. It was one of the few times when the entire remainder of the Order and Tiasal’s technical family were together. (Admittedly, the elf twins were spending more and more time there without Inkyrius—maybe a sign of the baker’s declining health?) Blackwing wasn’t so sure about Tiasal’s relationship with Inkyrius, Terentius, and Octavius (what was with the high elves of Ivyleaf and ‘ius’ endings to their names?). Inkyrius was still a little fragile after all these years (Blackwing didn’t think that the baker ever really recovered from the rapid-fire trauma that was suffered) and, while there was an obvious effort to look past Tiasal’s parentage and focus only on the natural love that Inkyrius seemed to hold for all children, it looked to be almost too much. The green skin combined with Vaarsuvius’s eyes—a constant reminder that, even after all those years, Vaarsuvius loved another more. Of course it was painful, and all things considered, Inkyrius did an admirable job of giving the little girl a fair shake. No one thinks that it would have been a good idea to make the baker raise her, though.

    Octavius and Terentius were interesting. Terentius was constantly passive, sometimes distant and sometimes affectionate depending on his feelings towards his little sister that day. Octavius alternated violently between hating Tiasal so deeply for being the proof of his Other Parent’s ‘betrayal’ that he was willing to beat her up and loving and protecting her so fiercely that anyone who so much looked at her the wrong way should quickly be praying to their deity of choice that their end be quick.

    Octavius seemed to be a violent teenager in general, come to think of it.

    Blackwing finished cleaning his wings, jumping and gliding down to the wood ground, pecking at the door to be opened. Elan, the only one to see him doing this, complied and allowed the bird out.

    He hopped into the warm living room and marveled at the insulation in the walls and door—the shouts were barely murmurs here.

    Tiasal sat in front of the burning hearth, curled up in a blanket and a leaf between two fingers carefully cut free of their claws. Haley had to cut the girl’s nails at least once a week to keep them from getting so sharp that she could hurt herself. The tiny tusks were worrisome enough.

    Blackwing hopped closer, noting that the girl seemed to be trying to set the leaf on fire with magic. She was covered with magic’s scent, at least, and the leaf was looking a little scorched.

    She did look a little odd, Blackwing had to privately admit. Probably due to her parentage.

    Her skin was mint green, but it seemed to be darkening with age. Her tusks had grown until they were just shy of a half inch—not very big for goblins, but it seemed really big on little girls. Her pointy ears peaked out from under her hair, much more prone to twitching, drooping, and generally revealing her mood than Vaarsuvius’s were. Blackwing didn’t think that a day went by when someone didn’t thank a deity for that. Tiasal was many things, but expressive she was not. Her ears and occasionally her face were the only signs of distress or joy that she had.

    Her eyes and hair matched her mother’s. Blackwing always found himself playing with purple strands of hair because of it. It reminded him of his old master. That was always a nice feeling.

    But at the same time, he was constantly reminded that this girl wasn’t just a little Vaarsuvius with green skin. He didn’t think that he had ever heard Tiasal speak; in fact, he was sure that she was mute. Vaarsuvius never stopped talking.

    He missed Vaarsuvius.

    “You know, you’re more like your parents than you’d think.”

    Tiasal curled up around the fire, gesturing for the bird to fly where she could see him. She had known he was there already. Blackwing complied, flying in between the girl and the fire, giving into temptation and starting to play with errant strands of her hair, quickly falling under the spell of bird-like pastimes. “They both were secretive. I think that’s part of the reason they were initially attracted to each other. They could tell that they had a lot in common, and they both understood the other’s quirks and flaws without needing to observe too closely. It was kind of funny to watch. They were really open about the fact that they would probably need to kill each other eventually, and yet they ended up falling in love anyway.”

    The girl’s ears practically swiveled to hear better, twitching faintly, and she slowly put the leaf she had been practicing on down.

    Blackwing responded by pulling at a small tendril of royal purple hair. “You’re secretive in your own way. You flat-out say nothing. They were secretive in their own way. Redcloak only said what needed to be said and Vaarsuvius said several things that meant the same, making everyone feel like she was telling them everything when in reality she told them nothing. They were very private people, so I guess that they had to figure out ways to get others off their back fast.”

    More ear swiveling.

    “Maybe that stuff’s genetic.” Blackwing started getting tangled up in the hair. “That’s not to say that neither of them had flaws. They had them. They had a lot of them. Redcloak was too focused on his big Plan and was too stuck on cost his own bitterness. Vaarsuvius was arrogant and self-centered as all get out. Both of them ended up giving up their families for what they perceived as the greater good. Both were too logical and prone to denying what feelings they had about anyone or anything. Came back to bite them both more times than I bother to count.”

    He tried pulling out of the hair. Tiasal gently helped him untangle. “Well, that’s not to say that they were bad people. They were really something, and I was glad that I was V’s familiar after all was said and done. Both of them were proud, passionate, powerful, and strong. Not only in the physical sense, but in the psychological sense.” Blackwing hopped back out of the hair, but he quickly started playing with it again. “Life beat them both down. They both got up and kept going. It takes guts to do that. They had separate goals and all, but they were very similar.”

    Tiasal felt the pockets that Elan had sewn on her dress (after several failed attempts), taking out a string with a perfect sphere made out mirrors fixed on the end. She hung it in front of the raven.

    “Is that a bauble on a dangly thing?!”

    Blackwing immediately started staring at himself in the mirror, almost hypnotized by the way his reflection was warped. “I love these… anyway, they were admirable. Not good, not bad, not baubles… sorry, but I’m glad I knew them. I have to admit that they were sort of cute together. Once they got past the ‘I really like you but you’re my enemy’ phase, they made each other really happy. They would smile a lot, laugh more, snuggle up, keep each other safe… they were one of those couples that, when they thought they were alone, were so sweet that you would think you’d get diabetes but instead you just felt warm.” He started pecking at the bauble, thoroughly distracted from the situation. Tiasal’s ears twitched hard.

    “‘Course, there were a couple species issues to work out. Vaarsuvius never really cared much about distinctions like that—she always considered them arbitrary—but Redcloak had a bit of a chip on his shoulder about the suffering of goblins and everyone thought that he raped V when they found out that she was pregnant, mainly because he was an evil goblin. Vaarsuvius was always fast about saying that it had been completely consensual, and Redcloak always pointed out with some exasperation that goblin and evil did not necessarily equal to ‘complete monster.’ It was funny for me to watch them get all flustered over it. It took a bit, but they really smoothed the edges out of each other. Redcloak stopped getting so hung up on the fact that V was an elf and V became more open about emotional intimacy.”

    Blackwing jumped at the bauble, pecking at it playfully, a tiny voice in the back of his head trying to point out that he was saying all this stuff to their daughter. He was supposed to be going on about how perfect her dead parents were and how wonderfully smooth their relationship had been. He was too enchanted by the bauble to notice.

    Tiasal, for her part, only twitched her ears again and waved the little mirrored ball on string a little more, eliciting a delighted squawk.

    “They loved you a lot, you know. V was too delicate to handle anything to do with pregnancy, from abortion to childbirth, but she had a higher chance of living through birth so she tried that.”

    The voice of common sense that had been muted by the presence of the mirror squawked loudly, screaming that that was not something you said to a kid! The bauble was too distracting for Blackwing to take note of the common sense that he usually so cherished.

    Tiasal’s ears went around in a semi-circle before drooping.

    “You should have seen her when she had you, though. She was bleeding everywhere and Redcloak and Durkon were scrambling to get her healed and she still completely perked when she heard you crying. Red and Durkon did what they could and she demanded to see you.” Blackwing hopped in a circle around the mirrored ball, staring at his distorted reflection in every which way.

    “Alright, Vaarsuvius. Yer na’ bleedin’ anymore, but ye lost a lot o’ blood and ye c’n start bleedin’ again easily, so don’t move around or exert yerself too much.”

    “Yes, yes, I see.” Vaarsuvius impatiently sat up, one arm wrapped tightly around a pained abdomen, and Haley, the only non-mother and non-cleric present in the room, cleared away the bloodied linens silently and with a pale face. “Please let me see the child.”

    Redcloak didn’t really seem up to talking. His skin had paled several shades over the course of the birthing. He stood at the head of the bed, stroking Vaarsuvius’s hair half-consciously, staring at Durkon. The dwarf gently wrapped the softly crying baby in a blanket that the townspeople had generously provided, looking up and smiling at the couple. “She’s a girl.”

    He slowly gave the baby to Redcloak. The goblin automatically knew how to hold her correctly, remembering holding his little brother and sister when they were infants.

    He tentatively looked down at the baby’s face.

    The goblin’s chest heaved gently, something that only Vaarsuvius was observant enough to notice. His only seeing eye went wide with an odd combination of love and pain. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it, realizing that he didn’t possess words anymore.

    The little light green child stopped crying, instead yawning and squinting in the bright light, the tiny buds of tusks starting to grow. Redcloak ran a finger along the girl’s soft cheek, completely aware of the fact that he may never see her again after this and that he was actively working on something that could unmake her and her world entirely. That knowledge combined with the feeling that had bloomed inside of him at the sight of his daughter threatened to rip him apart entirely.

    He swallowed hard and slowly sat beside Vaarsuvius, slipping the baby into the elf’s arms.

    Redcloak wrapped an arm around the elf, understanding fully when Vaarsuvius’s eyes went wide and glassy. The mage cradled the child tenderly, hands shaking very slightly, and the elf lovingly brushed warm lips against the baby’s forehead.

    “What are we going to name her?” Redcloak asked, voice barely strong enough to classify as a whisper.

    “Tiasal.”

    Redcloak nodded, resting one arm on the elf’s shoulders and keeping the other around his daughter, savoring the last moments of closeness he knew for sure that he would enjoy with them.

    Haley and Durkon both glanced at each other, realizing that they were intruding on something personal. They backed up, making themselves as little as possible, and allowed the family to savor what would turn out to be the last time any of them would be with another.


    “Durkon gave you to Redcloak first. You should have seen his face! It was so odd, but sweet at the same time. He had snuck away from Xykon and their crazy Theurge, Tsukiko, to see you and make sure the birth went smoothly.” Well, he failed at that. “He was going to have to go on with this Plan of his and Xykon’s and it was likely that he’d never see you again. Before when he was talking with V about it, you could see that he knew it would be painful, but the love and pain in his face when he held you for the first time…”

    Blackwing pecked at the mirror, letting out a soft warble. “You could see all of his so-called grand-scheme-plans for the greater good dissolving. I bet he would’ve quit the whole thing right there if he could’ve.”

    Tiasal’s ears moved from drooping to erect in quick succession, unsure of how they should position themselves, and her eyes became glassy.

    “He gave you to V and, by the gods, I never thought that she could look so emotional. I think I know her pretty well, what with an empathetic link and all, and when I say that she loved you, I mean she loved you. It was just instant. I didn’t think that that could happen, but there you are.”

    Tiasal’s ears decided that they should be quivering.

    “Well, I guess that the gods just didn’t feel like letting them be happy that day. Xykon burst in with Tsukiko at his heels. I think that he had caught on that Redcloak was thinking of withdrawing from the whole Plan now that he had a child and someone who was practically his wife to think about. He couldn’t possibly unmake all of creation if that meant the unmaking of you and Vaarsuvius. It’s easy to do stuff like that when you only have an idea to live for. Now he had people.”

    Xykon leered down with a dark grin from the giant hole he made in the side of the building. His hands were glowing with pure magic. The gems fixed in his eyes were bright to the point of making his entire sockets glow red. Tsukiko, looking considerably less intimidating, floated under him, a smile plastered all over her face and mismatched eyes flashing out of sync with each other.

    The rest of the Order, banished to the hallway, burst in with their weapons drawn. Vaarsuvius quickly hid the still-silent baby from view, eyes wide with a fear that no one but a parent was capable of. “Redcloak, he won’t spare her.”

    “I know. Make sure Xykon doesn’t see her.”

    Roy swung his sword, walking forward with the stride of a true warrior who knew what he was dealing with. “Get out of here, Xykon. Usually, I’d be happy with a chance to kill you again, but this isn’t the time or place to fight.”

    “You know, it’s stuff like that that annoy me. Arbitrary distinctions.” Xykon’s mouth went into an odd grin and he turned his eyes to Redcloak. “You know. One place is more appropriate to fight in than another because one happens to be someplace where kids are being born. One person is more important than another because they happen to have not crossed their legs when they should’ve and now they’re carrying around your baby.” He made a gesture around the room, sending a blast of energy into the ground dangerously close to Redcloak, forcing the goblin to recoil. “Well, I guess not carrying it around anymore. The point is, we have more important stuff to do. I thought Reddy knew that, but I guess he needs a reminder.”

    “Not while I’m around!” Roy lunged forward and jumped up, planting his glowing sword into the lich’s side. Xykon let out an indignant shout, saying something along the lines of ‘watch where you’re swinging that thing’ and twirling out of the way, his attention diverted. Tsukiko immediately tackled the chance to fight and went for Belkar, eager for revenge after the cat incident. Battle had broken out.

    Redcloak and Vaarsuvius looked at each other, both immediately knowing what their partner was thinking. “Redcloak, they won’t survive if I do not help.”

    “You won’t survive trying to fight!”

    “If they do not live, Tiasal and I have no hope of it.” The elf gently placed the baby in Redcloak’s arms. “Please make sure she is safe.”

    The goblin cradled the baby close, staring at the elf in horror. “Vaarsuvius, please don’t do this…”

    “Durkon and you are here. You both can heal me. If I still die, there is always resurrection.” The elf went on tiptoes and kissed Redcloak tenderly. “I love you. Simply remember that if nothing else.”

    The goblin kissed back, a pit in his stomach telling him that this would be the last kiss he’d share with the elf. “I love you too.” He meant it.

    Redcloak knew when he couldn’t dissuade Vaarsuvius from something. He backed away, forcing himself to come to terms with what was happening and grateful that the Order was distracting his ‘colleagues’ long enough for them to get their bearings. “I promised you that we would be okay. I intend to keep that promise.”

    The elf nodded, smiling, and in looking up at the lich who dared to threaten the newborn child, the violet eyes lit on fire. Redcloak carefully put the newborn in a cross between a bed and a rolling tray that she was supposed to have gone on to see a nurse, covering her with blankets and rolling her in a protected corner, both parents stationing themselves so that they could protect their hidden child with their lives.


    Blackwing fluffed up his feathers, freezing up, staring at the swinging mirrored ball and pausing in his story.

    “So Vaarsuvius started to fight to protect you and the Order. She knew what she was doing to herself. The bleeding started up again.”

    “Oh come on! Can’t a whore who just gave birth put up a better fight than that?!

    Tsukiko cackled, holding up a hand and sending a wave towards Vaarsuvius. The elf sharply dodged, blood starting to pool at small feet, raising up delicate hands and frowning grimly. “Disintegrate.” The spell hit Tsukiko point-blank. She fell to the ground like a rock, alive but thoroughly dispatched.

    Xykon twirled out of the reach of the rest of the Order, twisting to avoid Haley’s arrows, and pointed his hand towards the elf. “Meteor Swarm.”

    The flaming rocks hit home. With a soft grunt, the elf fell to the ground, blood starting to pool at a worryingly fast rate. Vaarsuvius shook, skin becoming increasingly pale, and violet eyes glazed slowly. “No, I…” The blood kept running down pale legs, staining the white ground red. The little body hadn’t had a chance to replenish the blood it had already lost. It was losing the last of what it had.

    “Vaarsuvius!”

    Redcloak was at the mage’s side in a flash, putting his hands on small shoulders.

    “Redcloak, I’ve lost too much blood.” Vaarsuvius leaned against the goblin, eyes closing halfway, hand lightly brushing the cleric’s. “I love you. Please remember that…”

    The blood bloomed in a dark red flower, staining the floor.

    “Cure Critical Wounds!”

    Nothing happened. There was nothing divine magic could do. The elf was already gone.

    A raven that had been perched invisibly on the elf’s shoulder let out a wail, flying up into the rafters and out of sight. There were furious shouts from the rest of the Order. All of them were too wrapped up in the fight to come.

    Redcloak’s hand shook as he checked his lover’s pulse. It confirmed what he already knew.

    Grief and rage tore at him. The person within wailed and threatened to consume him entirely. Vaarsuvius was dead. Xykon killed the elf he loved. Xykon had killed mother of his child. Xykon had
    taken her from him!

    His chest heaved. Every fiber of his being told him to destroy the lich he had created. He wanted revenge. First his brother’s family, then his brother, and now Vaarsuvius. Everyone he loved, the lich had destroyed. He could already see a film of red coming over his sight.

    But then the scientist reminded him softly of his daughter. He still had to protect her. She was completely defenseless against Xykon’s wrath and Tsukiko’s sadism. No matter what, he couldn’t abandon her.

    For once, in regards to his lover, he listened to the scientist.

    Redcloak gently rested the body on the ground with reluctance, kissing a cooling forehead before standing and slipping quietly to the bed he had put the baby in, making sure that Xykon was distracted by enraged adventurers before picking up his daughter.

    The little girl looked up at him, eyes holding nothing but love and trust, and his heart ached at the sight of it. The love was so strong that it hurt. He knew what Xykon was doing. It was too late for now to save Vaarsuvius, but his daughter could still be spared.

    He knelt to the ground, feeling the floorboards for one loose one that he had noticed earlier. These houses had been built by the families of pirates. The homes had been designed to hide illicit material. And people. Finding what he was looking for, he bent the floorboard back just enough for his purposes.

    “Stay quiet until the skeleton is gone. Then cry as loudly as you can.”

    He didn’t know why he was trying to reason with a baby, but it was all he could think to do. The little girl reached out for him, violet eyes wide.

    His heart started to ache again. He didn’t want to let her go.

    “I love you. You won’t remember it, but I hope I’ll be able to say it to you again soon.”

    Redcloak gently slipped the girl under the floor, making sure that she was only resting on the insulation before placing the board loosely over her. The good thing about places like this was the fact that there was actually enough space between boards and insulation to hide something up to the size of a small child or a couple bars of stolen gold. In all the years Redcloak knew Xykon, he’d always torn things apart to find what he wanted, but he usually left the walls and floors alone. He was depending on the lich’s lack of thoroughness now.

    He stood up quickly, praying to the Dark One with every ounce of his being for his daughter’s safety, and he looked to the battle.

    Xykon was standing over Vaarsuvius’s body, surrounded by the unconscious or barely alive bodies of the Order, grinning with an unfamiliar necklace in his hands. The necklace was fixed with three black sapphires.

    Redcloak’s heart sank.

    “Alright, Reddy. Where’s your little squalling bastard?”

    The goblin felt a growl rise in his chest but he forced it down. If he had any hope of keeping his daughter alive and saving Vaarsuvius’s soul, he had to think fast.

    “Where is the little half-breed?”

    “She was stillborn.” Redcloak forced himself to look down and played the part of a grieving father the best he could. He had been able to pull off acting to fool Xykon about matters before. He gave another prayer to his god for this to work.

    Xykon clapped his phalanges together, slowly putting the necklace around his neck. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind me doing this. Meteor Swarm.”

    Redcloak flinched in surprise when the medical bed the birthing had occurred on flew into the wall, crushing the baby bed that his daughter had been in mere moments before. “She was stillborn, Xykon. Vaarsuvius’s body couldn’t provide enough for her. We’ve already disposed of the body.”

    Xykon paused, searching Redcloak’s face slowly. He seemed satisfied with what he saw, brightening up exceptionally. “Good. Baby souls are hell trying to bind—they don’t have any levels so you have to do the spell really fast. Well, I still have your whore’s soul. Just in case you were thinking of going turncoat on us. Go and pick up the necromancer chick—we’re out of here.”

    Redcloak didn’t risk so much as a glance towards the place he hid his child. He lightly touched his dead lover’s hair, the last touch he believed that he would ever have, and quickly scooped up Tsukiko, reining in his emotions and following the lich out.


    The bird slowly lapsed into silence, eyes glazed with memory. He rocked back and forth, falling back under the spell of the bauble, his eyes practically glowing with the light of it. Recounting his master’s death hurt.

    “Well, Xykon had V’s soul hanging over his head, so Redcloak was forced to finish whatever was going on with the gates and the Snarl. Xykon would’ve used you against him too, but he had been able to make sure that you at least had some hope of getting out of this unscathed.”

    Blackwing started hopping about the bauble again. Tiasal’s ears twitched madly.

    “Durkon found you. Things were looking pretty dim, but he gave you to a nursemaid to take care of while he and the rest of the Order ran off to stop Xykon and find V’s soul. I wasn’t any use to them without Vaarsuvius, so I stuck with you to make sure you were okay. I don’t think I’ve ever been around such a quiet baby! Your nursemaid—Mary, I think—couldn’t get over the fact that she was actually getting a full night’s sleep even when she was taking care of you.”

    It was a little awkward when Durkon and Redcloak ran into each other in Kraagor’s dungeon.

    Both quickly glanced around to see if there was a lich or Theurge to keep tabs on the goblin before Redcloak quickly walked forward, one eye wide and openly afraid. “My daughter. Tiasal. Is she safe? Did you find her?”

    “Aye. Ye were smart t’ hide ‘er like ye did, though I gotta say, if she dinnae cry, we woulda ‘ad trouble findin’ ‘er. She’s back in town wit’ Blackwing an’ a nursemaid.” Durkon smiled sadly. “She’s a healthy baby. Yer goin’ t’ be back wit’ ‘er soon.”

    “I hope you’re right. I doubt you are.” Nonetheless, Redcloak looked greatly relieved. “Xykon has the necklace he bound Vaarsuvius in around his neck all the time now. You’ll be able to see it easily next time you see him. We should hurry up and get as far away from each other as possible—I’m not risking Vaarsuvius’s soul, and the first thing Xykon would want me to do is destroy and torture you. Not necessarily in that order.”

    “Dinnae worry. I understand.” They quickly parted.


    “When the Order came back, they had good and bad news. They had managed to stop Xykon and Redcloak had helped them, but Xykon killed Red and bound him in a sapphire before flying off with V’s and his gems.”

    Blackwing pecked the mirror again. “And we’re still looking for him. Things are looking up since Roy, Durkon, Haley, and Belkar are going to travel to the Oracle again to get more specific information about where Xykon is and where the stones are.” The raven started flapping. “We might be able to have them revived within two years. They’ll be surprised when they see you. It could be one happy family soon.”

    The bauble dropped to the ground. With that, Blackwing suddenly realized all the things he had said and the grave mistake he had made.

    Everyone had gone out of their way to paint the most flattering picture possible of Redcloak and Vaarsuvius and the circumstances of Tiasal’s birth to her. They had also abstained from mentioning the whole ‘her parents are imprisoned in separate stones that could be anywhere and they’re not in any afterlife’ thing. And the ‘everyone thought that Redcloak was a rapist’ thing. And the ‘her father was prepared to destroy the world’ thing… and especially the ‘her mother meant to abort her’ thing!

    “Uh…”

    Tiasal didn’t burst into tears like Blackwing expected. Her ears stopped moving. Her eyes were serene. Her mouth slowly bloomed into a smile.

    “Thank you.”

    She stood up and walked to the kitchen, leaving a gaping raven in her wake.

    Everyone looked up from the shouting session when Tiasal bounced in, smiling widely and practically twirling where she stepped. She stopped in front of Abram, giving him a big hug, then twirled to Terentius, holding up her arms for him to pick her up.

    The green-haired elf blinked in surprise, picking up his little sister silently. She hugged him around his neck, careful to not hug too tightly. “Tia, I’m so—”

    Tiasal shook her head at Terentius and looked to Octavius, reaching for his face.

    “Tiasal, I’m sorry for wh—”

    The girl grinned, shook her head, and pulled his face closer, kissing the tip of his nose sweetly. “That’s okay. She loved us all.” She let him go and smiled. “Want to play hide and seek?”

    All three teenagers looked at each other in shock, anything and everything they were going to say dying on their lips. The adults in the room went deathly silent.

    Tiasal had spoken for the first time in six years.

    “O… Okay.”

    Terentius bounced the girl a little in his arms and the kids filed out of the kitchen, leaving thoroughly baffled adults behind.


    Phew. Alrighty then.

    Thoughts and questions are appreciated. (I've actually made up psychological profiles of all three of V's kids. What the hell's wrong with me?)

    Spoiler
    Show

    The April Squickies Award for Best Crack Pairing Story


    Thank you so much to Kaytara for the avatar! It's of Redcloak's and Vaarsuvius's love child.

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •