Current Status (& Meaning)
[ ✔ ] Open For Business (I'm aching and ready to RP.)
[ ] Limited Hours (I'm warning upfront that I'll be slow.)
[ ] Under Repairs (On hold due to IC changes being made.)
[ ] Closed (I'm in enough RP's or dealing with IRL issue.)
[ ] Limited Hours (I'm warning upfront that I'll be slow.)
[ ] Under Repairs (On hold due to IC changes being made.)
[ ] Closed (I'm in enough RP's or dealing with IRL issue.)
I'm a 31 year old male. I've been roleplaying for the past decade and a half. Though I've been writing as early and often as my life allows me. I've always been interested in trying new things, while improving my craft and potentially helping others thrive in my hobby. I live in Eastern Standard Time and on my own. So my life is generally content, without any severe burdens. (And the reason you might care, is that you won't see me using school, work, or anything else as a frequent excuse for my slowness.)
I'm a verbose fellow and enjoy dabbling in artistic prose. I love writing and partaking in dark and dramatic stories, where violence and psychological tension is my bread and butter. Though my own preferences are incredibly broad, free-form and far from elitism. As I'm willing to roleplay just about any idea proposed to me, if I believe it could lead to an engaging roleplay. Since I write entirely to improve myself through practice, and be rewarded with new experiences. (Meaning I'm eager to do free, casual and advanced settings. Using PM's, threads, Discord, Google Docs or wherever else.)
Plus, I'm perfectly capable of leading (creating the vast majority of the world/characters/narrative decisions) and following along with whatever my partner has in mind. Though I'm also grateful to do a cohesive mixture with my partner(s). But I prefer having an equal input, at the very least. Based on many past experiences of others fearing to be a storyteller, or driving their own plotlines straight off a cliff.
Plus, I'm perfectly capable of leading (creating the vast majority of the world/characters/narrative decisions) and following along with whatever my partner has in mind. Though I'm also grateful to do a cohesive mixture with my partner(s). But I prefer having an equal input, at the very least. Based on many past experiences of others fearing to be a storyteller, or driving their own plotlines straight off a cliff.
For purely legal reasons for me and all involved, please be 18+. (Sorry, kiddos. Good luck elsewhere.) I require communication and activity. Meaning I'll likely alert you preemptively when I'm busy and when I have plans, and I expect you to do the same with the best of your ability. Out of character discussion is welcome and preferable. The amount of posts and variances in schedules can be determined through planning. As I'm simply looking for effort above all else. So if you're capable of using spellcheck and trying to write as coherently as possible, you're good! (Though I might ask you for a writing sample, if I can't already look at your roleplaying history, and get a good enough sense of your activity/skill level.)
Calamity and Collapse!
Humanity desperately needed the digimon’s help. Through conflict and hardship the heroes and their partner digimon struggled for months, but with combined bravery and perseverance they would save their world. But alas, it was time for the digimon to return to a portal into their world where they’d—what happened? Everything had drastically changed for the worse, destroyed lands with various armies going to war through environmental hazards. Their previous friends and allies were divided from the chaos. Digivices and evolution weren’t working as expected, leaving them bereft of options. Was there anyway to reverse the calamity left in their absence? Without getting themselves killed in the process and before the world they beloved collapsed…
Cutting the introduction one might have done millions of times in RP’s of similar nature. We’d be playing experienced tamers and digimon who’ve already experienced a lot. However, we’d also feel incredibly powerless and overwhelmed by the new forces and circumstances surrounding us.
Humanity desperately needed the digimon’s help. Through conflict and hardship the heroes and their partner digimon struggled for months, but with combined bravery and perseverance they would save their world. But alas, it was time for the digimon to return to a portal into their world where they’d—what happened? Everything had drastically changed for the worse, destroyed lands with various armies going to war through environmental hazards. Their previous friends and allies were divided from the chaos. Digivices and evolution weren’t working as expected, leaving them bereft of options. Was there anyway to reverse the calamity left in their absence? Without getting themselves killed in the process and before the world they beloved collapsed…
Cutting the introduction one might have done millions of times in RP’s of similar nature. We’d be playing experienced tamers and digimon who’ve already experienced a lot. However, we’d also feel incredibly powerless and overwhelmed by the new forces and circumstances surrounding us.
Synchronicity Of The Shooting Stars.
They say only the lonely wish upon shooting stars...and who ever knew asking for a friend would grant a wish? The fallen star became a small meteorite crash landing into the backyard. Cautious and curious investigation show that it’s actually an egg that hatched out a strange creature. And it speaks! But, there seems to be no great destiny in store for you. It seemed to land there by happenstance. Even the creature doesn’t know where it came from or what it even is. It was time to do some online searching for similar experiences and explanations but you end up finding nothing. Except when you received a knock on your next door and learned a neighbor had the same thing happen to them. You both suddenly made several new friends in the process and fun times commenced. Until a warning news broadcast is playing on every channel’s screen and radio station, an absolutely enormous meteor shower that seemed to appear from a rip in the sky is very slowly approaching your world. And you both have a better idea than anyone that that may mean...
More slice of life focused at least in the beginning with a slow approach and pacing like Digimon Tamers with all hell potentially breaking loose. But this time the digital world aspect will be left behind, in favor of staying on earth.
They say only the lonely wish upon shooting stars...and who ever knew asking for a friend would grant a wish? The fallen star became a small meteorite crash landing into the backyard. Cautious and curious investigation show that it’s actually an egg that hatched out a strange creature. And it speaks! But, there seems to be no great destiny in store for you. It seemed to land there by happenstance. Even the creature doesn’t know where it came from or what it even is. It was time to do some online searching for similar experiences and explanations but you end up finding nothing. Except when you received a knock on your next door and learned a neighbor had the same thing happen to them. You both suddenly made several new friends in the process and fun times commenced. Until a warning news broadcast is playing on every channel’s screen and radio station, an absolutely enormous meteor shower that seemed to appear from a rip in the sky is very slowly approaching your world. And you both have a better idea than anyone that that may mean...
More slice of life focused at least in the beginning with a slow approach and pacing like Digimon Tamers with all hell potentially breaking loose. But this time the digital world aspect will be left behind, in favor of staying on earth.
An Eponymous Undertaking...
Long before pokemon gym leaders and tournaments, even before the pokeball and pokedex had been created there were explorers charting out an undiscovered and vast world across forests and oceans alike. The economy thrived on rumors and information, but this is where the job required long and tireless hours trying to discover and record every pokemon they could find. Busting myths and crossing paths among legends and sketching them all down and recording their patterns to share their research abroad. Only having their wits to survive potentially dangerous encounters with territorial pokemon, perhaps they’ll inadvertently find some friendly companions that will journey with them...
A prequel world of sorts where character knowledge is scarce. There’s no hospital, escape ropes and repels that can get our characters out of tight spaces. Most of the world is new and full of mystery, it could be as similar or different as we decide.
Long before pokemon gym leaders and tournaments, even before the pokeball and pokedex had been created there were explorers charting out an undiscovered and vast world across forests and oceans alike. The economy thrived on rumors and information, but this is where the job required long and tireless hours trying to discover and record every pokemon they could find. Busting myths and crossing paths among legends and sketching them all down and recording their patterns to share their research abroad. Only having their wits to survive potentially dangerous encounters with territorial pokemon, perhaps they’ll inadvertently find some friendly companions that will journey with them...
A prequel world of sorts where character knowledge is scarce. There’s no hospital, escape ropes and repels that can get our characters out of tight spaces. Most of the world is new and full of mystery, it could be as similar or different as we decide.
Command & Conquer'Em All!
Team Rocket gets a bad wrap, but you know what’s worse than being infamous? Not being known at all, this is where we’ll come in. We’re a small time gang of incredibly capable criminal members that for one reason or another was rejected from every organization we’ve applied to. That’s because we don’t play by the rules. We’ll capture every pokemon we come across whether it’s wild or owned. Our methods are tactical like guerrilla warfare like traps and cloaking material and implementing highly advanced technology to make even the strongest pokemon to submit to our whims. We’ll catch and conquer them all!
No speeches about friendship here. This can be quite varied in tone and plot direction, but generally will let us fulfill one’s dickish side and RP in a much different way than most RP’s you’ve probably been in for this fandom.
Team Rocket gets a bad wrap, but you know what’s worse than being infamous? Not being known at all, this is where we’ll come in. We’re a small time gang of incredibly capable criminal members that for one reason or another was rejected from every organization we’ve applied to. That’s because we don’t play by the rules. We’ll capture every pokemon we come across whether it’s wild or owned. Our methods are tactical like guerrilla warfare like traps and cloaking material and implementing highly advanced technology to make even the strongest pokemon to submit to our whims. We’ll catch and conquer them all!
No speeches about friendship here. This can be quite varied in tone and plot direction, but generally will let us fulfill one’s dickish side and RP in a much different way than most RP’s you’ve probably been in for this fandom.
Immortal Gods.
Where are you? In Rome? The archaic architecture towering over you are far from any modern home you’d recognize if you didn’t have borderline amnesia already. But traces of your identity are still remembered. Your name, along with your occupation and interests. But also your poor health or that you were a ticking time bomb amidst dangerous circumstances. Point being that life sucked, you had many regrets and you didn’t have that long to live. Coming across a whole group of individuals that shared the same feelings giving you all a strange sense of togetherness.
Until a strange talking robotic creature appeared out of nowhere and told us the real reason why any of us were here...we were supposed to kill each other one by one. Hold a trial where we executed whoever the majority agreed was guilty, then move on without ever knowing the truth...unless we inadvertently killed someone who’d already committed a murder. The deal? Kill one person and get away with it, and if you survive until the end you’ll get the rest of that person’s remaining lifespan. Kill two people without getting caught? You get to leave this game behind a victor and become Immortal. Can friendship and teamwork really prevail? When life is literally on the line? Let alone having the opportunity to become; Immortal Gods.
Obviously this would be a working man’s project and likely only for advanced players, but the fairest way for this one to work is to divide the created characters evenly. Each round creating our own mystery/setting. Creating a victim/killer and each having our main characters that can help the other one in case they get off track. Our characters wouldn’t be the killers and won’t die, so the RP will never get stuck as long as we have active imaginations.
Where are you? In Rome? The archaic architecture towering over you are far from any modern home you’d recognize if you didn’t have borderline amnesia already. But traces of your identity are still remembered. Your name, along with your occupation and interests. But also your poor health or that you were a ticking time bomb amidst dangerous circumstances. Point being that life sucked, you had many regrets and you didn’t have that long to live. Coming across a whole group of individuals that shared the same feelings giving you all a strange sense of togetherness.
Until a strange talking robotic creature appeared out of nowhere and told us the real reason why any of us were here...we were supposed to kill each other one by one. Hold a trial where we executed whoever the majority agreed was guilty, then move on without ever knowing the truth...unless we inadvertently killed someone who’d already committed a murder. The deal? Kill one person and get away with it, and if you survive until the end you’ll get the rest of that person’s remaining lifespan. Kill two people without getting caught? You get to leave this game behind a victor and become Immortal. Can friendship and teamwork really prevail? When life is literally on the line? Let alone having the opportunity to become; Immortal Gods.
Obviously this would be a working man’s project and likely only for advanced players, but the fairest way for this one to work is to divide the created characters evenly. Each round creating our own mystery/setting. Creating a victim/killer and each having our main characters that can help the other one in case they get off track. Our characters wouldn’t be the killers and won’t die, so the RP will never get stuck as long as we have active imaginations.
The Sinners and Their Secrets.
A rich and thriving city with safe streets seemed to be the perfect place to live. A place that allowed individual freedoms and access to our greatest excesses. Despair and depravity only exist in the pit of the underground casinos. Only vague internet superstitions live on about “Murder Mystery Gambling”; A game where a small group of players get secluded somewhere and handed a electronic device that gives them instructions. One player is told how to commit a murder and give tips in ways to cover it up. One person dies and the rest must correctly pick out the culprit among the group. If the killer wins a million dollars is transferred into their account, the winners simply split the million and the killer is arrested by security. The naive among them join their first game upon invitation and believing this is all fiction...until the realize too late that this murder mystery isn’t a game.
This will/can essentially act as interactive mysteries created by us back and forth, far smaller in scope and scale, therefore much easier to manage. Even if it still requires some imagination and presentation skills. The game can also have a lot of down time in-between where our morally righteous characters interact and decide how they’ll stop this terrible game from going on.
A rich and thriving city with safe streets seemed to be the perfect place to live. A place that allowed individual freedoms and access to our greatest excesses. Despair and depravity only exist in the pit of the underground casinos. Only vague internet superstitions live on about “Murder Mystery Gambling”; A game where a small group of players get secluded somewhere and handed a electronic device that gives them instructions. One player is told how to commit a murder and give tips in ways to cover it up. One person dies and the rest must correctly pick out the culprit among the group. If the killer wins a million dollars is transferred into their account, the winners simply split the million and the killer is arrested by security. The naive among them join their first game upon invitation and believing this is all fiction...until the realize too late that this murder mystery isn’t a game.
This will/can essentially act as interactive mysteries created by us back and forth, far smaller in scope and scale, therefore much easier to manage. Even if it still requires some imagination and presentation skills. The game can also have a lot of down time in-between where our morally righteous characters interact and decide how they’ll stop this terrible game from going on.
Harvesters Of The Innocent.
Bodies rest above the soil. Society is under turmoil. Our lines of morality blurred as a child turned soldier. The finest examples of technology twisted innocence into duty. The surgery bolted metal onto our backs to properly function, our home was inside a cramped warmachine. Everyone thought the war was supposed to be over? Just because treaties had been signed after the rebellion of Tekkadan had been defeated? No, there’s others in the galaxy ready to succeed where they had fallen. The order will be disturbed once again by true justice, all this violence and bloodshed is necessary...we’re the good guys. And this time...we aren’t alone...
In the future beyond the anime, Gjallarhorn is still acting as a dominating authority and
has slowly been expanding and growing resources through extraction to further dwindle other planets ability to perform acts of rebellions on the same level as Tekkadan. Creating an expansive network of different rebel bases performing similar tactics to indoctrinate children into fighting a war. We’ll be mainly playing two younger soldiers amidst these struggling war times.
Bodies rest above the soil. Society is under turmoil. Our lines of morality blurred as a child turned soldier. The finest examples of technology twisted innocence into duty. The surgery bolted metal onto our backs to properly function, our home was inside a cramped warmachine. Everyone thought the war was supposed to be over? Just because treaties had been signed after the rebellion of Tekkadan had been defeated? No, there’s others in the galaxy ready to succeed where they had fallen. The order will be disturbed once again by true justice, all this violence and bloodshed is necessary...we’re the good guys. And this time...we aren’t alone...
In the future beyond the anime, Gjallarhorn is still acting as a dominating authority and
has slowly been expanding and growing resources through extraction to further dwindle other planets ability to perform acts of rebellions on the same level as Tekkadan. Creating an expansive network of different rebel bases performing similar tactics to indoctrinate children into fighting a war. We’ll be mainly playing two younger soldiers amidst these struggling war times.
Fractured Minds:Souls
Buds of innocence and curiosity spouted into a garden of devotion and we weeded out things we failed to accept which only led to a destructive path. Not everything is coming back with us. We’re attempting to alter the course of the future by continuously going back to the past. It’s not that easy to impact any of the major things that had constructed the present. But every single time we try anyway, memories, our health and other material pieces of the traveler may diminish into nothing. Our mark had been forever left behind and we’ve lost things that we can never truly reclaim. We’ll actively make everything worse interfering with time...but what if one more time can fix everything? Diminishing returns can’t be worth fractured bones, minds and souls...but we had already accepted the risks. Let’s do this...
Buds of innocence and curiosity spouted into a garden of devotion and we weeded out things we failed to accept which only led to a destructive path. Not everything is coming back with us. We’re attempting to alter the course of the future by continuously going back to the past. It’s not that easy to impact any of the major things that had constructed the present. But every single time we try anyway, memories, our health and other material pieces of the traveler may diminish into nothing. Our mark had been forever left behind and we’ve lost things that we can never truly reclaim. We’ll actively make everything worse interfering with time...but what if one more time can fix everything? Diminishing returns can’t be worth fractured bones, minds and souls...but we had already accepted the risks. Let’s do this...
The Bastard's Paradox.
I’m an asshole, with equally low-life friends. We’re self-centered, misanthropic and look scary. And we wear it like badges of honor. We do science to spite those around us and damn the moral consequences. But that doesn’t make us criminals, even if we don’t have any alibis because we’re shut-ins. We’re being convicted for crimes we didn’t commit and nobody will actually believe us. Probably because these sharks in suits are adept at swallowing the fishes of the jury whole.
But we're told in extraneous detail how we'd manage to pull off the world’s biggest heists and strings of armed robberies of this generation. Perhaps, some good can come out of this... We’ll go back in our time machine and apprehend these thieves and get them all arrested to stop them from ever inadvertently getting us into trouble. Meanwhile, we'll rob them blind using the information we had been given. The cruelest irony that they deserve. We'll succeed in our superiority and refuse to be captured. What could possibly go wrong?
I’m an asshole, with equally low-life friends. We’re self-centered, misanthropic and look scary. And we wear it like badges of honor. We do science to spite those around us and damn the moral consequences. But that doesn’t make us criminals, even if we don’t have any alibis because we’re shut-ins. We’re being convicted for crimes we didn’t commit and nobody will actually believe us. Probably because these sharks in suits are adept at swallowing the fishes of the jury whole.
But we're told in extraneous detail how we'd manage to pull off the world’s biggest heists and strings of armed robberies of this generation. Perhaps, some good can come out of this... We’ll go back in our time machine and apprehend these thieves and get them all arrested to stop them from ever inadvertently getting us into trouble. Meanwhile, we'll rob them blind using the information we had been given. The cruelest irony that they deserve. We'll succeed in our superiority and refuse to be captured. What could possibly go wrong?
Paradise Lost.
In our futile efforts to reach Paradise, many of us starved, got lost or sick and died. But all those that tried reached the same apathetic conclusion that there wasn’t a place to look for. We had effectively been separated from humanity. And lived nihilistic existences until the worms ate our flesh. But being the same species didn’t mean we all followed the Alpha’s orders. Some even resent their appearance and resume a human facade to rebel against the established order. In absence of a shared goal the wolves were fractured and divided. Did everyone not truly believe hard enough to attain salvation? Or were we mere wretched creatures meant to die in the bitter coldness of reality...
In our futile efforts to reach Paradise, many of us starved, got lost or sick and died. But all those that tried reached the same apathetic conclusion that there wasn’t a place to look for. We had effectively been separated from humanity. And lived nihilistic existences until the worms ate our flesh. But being the same species didn’t mean we all followed the Alpha’s orders. Some even resent their appearance and resume a human facade to rebel against the established order. In absence of a shared goal the wolves were fractured and divided. Did everyone not truly believe hard enough to attain salvation? Or were we mere wretched creatures meant to die in the bitter coldness of reality...
I Shed My Fur, I Shed My Blood, I Shed My Tears...
Abandoned as the runt of the litter. When I was young and weak, I was beaten bloody by my siblings and the others in my pack. Not even my parents felt sympathy for me, I had nobody to rely on. But fortune smiled upon me as I was taken in by a child that found me, heir to the throne and of a wealthy family surrounded by yes men that wouldn’t tell them I couldn’t be kept. But I couldn't merely become somebody's pet, I revealed my intelligence and abilities to the Prince who still accepted me. Which gave me the determination to decide that I wouldn’t follow that depraved path. I would live this life not as a wolf, but like a human! But that wasn’t without its own hardships and instincts that I had to overcome...
And what would I do when it was decided to hunt down and exterminate the wolf population?
Abandoned as the runt of the litter. When I was young and weak, I was beaten bloody by my siblings and the others in my pack. Not even my parents felt sympathy for me, I had nobody to rely on. But fortune smiled upon me as I was taken in by a child that found me, heir to the throne and of a wealthy family surrounded by yes men that wouldn’t tell them I couldn’t be kept. But I couldn't merely become somebody's pet, I revealed my intelligence and abilities to the Prince who still accepted me. Which gave me the determination to decide that I wouldn’t follow that depraved path. I would live this life not as a wolf, but like a human! But that wasn’t without its own hardships and instincts that I had to overcome...
And what would I do when it was decided to hunt down and exterminate the wolf population?
Lambs To The Slaughter.
It was much darker times on the force than when I was a rookie officer giving aggravated drivers a speeding ticket. Species slurs and coworker pranks were the worst that life had to offer. But something strange had been ongoing these past couple of weeks. Gore and disturbing shrines appearing all over and vandalizing the peace of the town. But paranoia and disturbances were the least of the law’s problems, this strange cult had accepted murderous intentions. These bastards were behaving like ani-monsters and their havoc had yet begun. It got even worse when they started sending our departments mocking letters about our futile efforts to stop them. Decided cops would convert or be considered the cults number one enemy...
How can you trust your neighbors? Your fellow officers? The cult was indistinguishable from one’s outside appearance and their motives didn’t seem rational. Wolves in sheep’s clothing, bringing the lambs to the slaughter...
It was much darker times on the force than when I was a rookie officer giving aggravated drivers a speeding ticket. Species slurs and coworker pranks were the worst that life had to offer. But something strange had been ongoing these past couple of weeks. Gore and disturbing shrines appearing all over and vandalizing the peace of the town. But paranoia and disturbances were the least of the law’s problems, this strange cult had accepted murderous intentions. These bastards were behaving like ani-monsters and their havoc had yet begun. It got even worse when they started sending our departments mocking letters about our futile efforts to stop them. Decided cops would convert or be considered the cults number one enemy...
How can you trust your neighbors? Your fellow officers? The cult was indistinguishable from one’s outside appearance and their motives didn’t seem rational. Wolves in sheep’s clothing, bringing the lambs to the slaughter...
It's A Dog Eat Dog World Out There!
We passed the training and the tests. But we soon learned that the competitiveness of the force had gotten insane compared to our ex-cop relatives sharing their stories of law enforcement. Newcomers to the force weren’t merely given the desk work and expected to do the jobs nobody really wanted to do. But accrue points daily to be evaluated under a strict system every month, everyone who didn’t collect a certain amount of tickets and stop a certain amount of crimes and file a certain amount of paperwork would very soon find themselves being directly sent back to training camps at best. And at worst, find all their progress be for naught.
That desperation and ferocity we needed to display would prove to be our ultimate test. And if we could maintain order underneath all the chaos structured within. We’ll be rookie officers whether on a team or directly competing against one another...maybe we'll find a way to cheat the system.
We passed the training and the tests. But we soon learned that the competitiveness of the force had gotten insane compared to our ex-cop relatives sharing their stories of law enforcement. Newcomers to the force weren’t merely given the desk work and expected to do the jobs nobody really wanted to do. But accrue points daily to be evaluated under a strict system every month, everyone who didn’t collect a certain amount of tickets and stop a certain amount of crimes and file a certain amount of paperwork would very soon find themselves being directly sent back to training camps at best. And at worst, find all their progress be for naught.
That desperation and ferocity we needed to display would prove to be our ultimate test. And if we could maintain order underneath all the chaos structured within. We’ll be rookie officers whether on a team or directly competing against one another...maybe we'll find a way to cheat the system.
Disclaimer: These aren't the only fandoms that I'm familiar with. So don't hesitate to inquire about others. Same applies to the ideas inside, as these are merely examples of my creative ability. Though I prefer original characters only. Very limited on In-Canon characters. (Will also likely be adding more fandoms and ideas in due time...)
The Roaches Keep Us Company...
You wouldn’t normally expect optimism to flourish after what had happened to everything we once knew. There was nobody left but us, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t make the best of it. No. We had to make the best out of it. We learned that we never had to worry about food. As the roaches had survived and through radiation had become wholly altered in size and nutritional value. A supply that spawns and reproduces faster than we ever could reasonably expand and food that will never die or spoil. One irradiated roach would feed a family of four and provide them with all they needed to be healthy. Our government must have predicted this and had produced an underground base with springs that contained a large quantity of untainted and clean water. And it also provided shelter, bedding for those left alive with space to spare. We knew where to avoid danger from certain distances away from our new home. We just needed to remain focused and believe that we could rebuild humanity...
You wouldn’t normally expect optimism to flourish after what had happened to everything we once knew. There was nobody left but us, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t make the best of it. No. We had to make the best out of it. We learned that we never had to worry about food. As the roaches had survived and through radiation had become wholly altered in size and nutritional value. A supply that spawns and reproduces faster than we ever could reasonably expand and food that will never die or spoil. One irradiated roach would feed a family of four and provide them with all they needed to be healthy. Our government must have predicted this and had produced an underground base with springs that contained a large quantity of untainted and clean water. And it also provided shelter, bedding for those left alive with space to spare. We knew where to avoid danger from certain distances away from our new home. We just needed to remain focused and believe that we could rebuild humanity...
We Sleep On A Bed Of Nails.
Life was stressful even if nobody believed us. Our company was a difficult one to explain at the frequent social gatherings were forced into. Effectively, we were hotel reviewers. Constantly traveling for work was a double edge sword, despite the many luxurious stays, we experienced some dumps which we stayed at for weeks before anyone rescued us. It was tiring to inspect and spend most of our time judging the hotel rather than doing anything else. Though always having coworkers around meant having decent conversations on the long plane rides. Since we didn’t exactly get to ride first class, the luggage compartment was closer to our accommodations…
But it all started when we traveled to the luxury resort rumored to be haunted, on a remote island away from most civilization. When we arrived at the hotel late at night, we found it abandoned but decided to rest there anyway having no other options. At least the lights worked and it was surprisingly clean. However, when we laid down we all invariably lunged out and shouted in agony. Nails? But it was an ordinary mattress, as were the couches and the floor. But everything inflicted excruciating pain the moment sleep even crossed our subconscious. But when we tried to leave...all the doors and windows wouldn’t open or break. Were...we stuck here unable to sleep for a whole two weeks? What the hell was going on?!
That will we be for us to decide...
Life was stressful even if nobody believed us. Our company was a difficult one to explain at the frequent social gatherings were forced into. Effectively, we were hotel reviewers. Constantly traveling for work was a double edge sword, despite the many luxurious stays, we experienced some dumps which we stayed at for weeks before anyone rescued us. It was tiring to inspect and spend most of our time judging the hotel rather than doing anything else. Though always having coworkers around meant having decent conversations on the long plane rides. Since we didn’t exactly get to ride first class, the luggage compartment was closer to our accommodations…
But it all started when we traveled to the luxury resort rumored to be haunted, on a remote island away from most civilization. When we arrived at the hotel late at night, we found it abandoned but decided to rest there anyway having no other options. At least the lights worked and it was surprisingly clean. However, when we laid down we all invariably lunged out and shouted in agony. Nails? But it was an ordinary mattress, as were the couches and the floor. But everything inflicted excruciating pain the moment sleep even crossed our subconscious. But when we tried to leave...all the doors and windows wouldn’t open or break. Were...we stuck here unable to sleep for a whole two weeks? What the hell was going on?!
That will we be for us to decide...
Shadows Stalk Us Beneath Our Feet.
Have you ever felt like you were being watched? No, not always in a stalker creeping at you from around a corner. And I certainly didn’t believe in god...Instead something obsessed with your every move seemingly for their own sake? Not knowing if it’s a comforting or sinister presence? What about hearing subtle voices? Not the devil’s whispers in your ears...but directly below you? I’m not crazy at least I hoped...but those thoughts got harder to ignore as mere feelings and the voices became louder and coherent. I’d never thought I’d be told to look down and when I did see my own shadow staring back at me with a haunting glow…
My shadow had a life of its own? We started having conversations about the 'world of shadows' that coexisted with the material world filled and has quietly drifted beneath and more concerning that was apparently in grave danger. And here I was the person to sneer at those people in horror stories why they didn’t just call the cops...
I know that this one can turn into drastically different outcomes. What will happen this time?
Have you ever felt like you were being watched? No, not always in a stalker creeping at you from around a corner. And I certainly didn’t believe in god...Instead something obsessed with your every move seemingly for their own sake? Not knowing if it’s a comforting or sinister presence? What about hearing subtle voices? Not the devil’s whispers in your ears...but directly below you? I’m not crazy at least I hoped...but those thoughts got harder to ignore as mere feelings and the voices became louder and coherent. I’d never thought I’d be told to look down and when I did see my own shadow staring back at me with a haunting glow…
My shadow had a life of its own? We started having conversations about the 'world of shadows' that coexisted with the material world filled and has quietly drifted beneath and more concerning that was apparently in grave danger. And here I was the person to sneer at those people in horror stories why they didn’t just call the cops...
I know that this one can turn into drastically different outcomes. What will happen this time?
The Pastors Premonition.
Every night after praying underneath the moonlight glow of the cathedral. You’re stricken with a premonition of increasingly disturbed events that keep coming true within 3 days time. You’ve been able to rally your fellow pastors despite their envious hatred of you to spread your messages so others may avoid certain catastrophe. But as fear spreads and the premonitions only get harder to prevent through reasonable means. They start to question if you were the creator or predictor of disasters? Nothing would answer that until it was far too late...
But premonitions would not keep the pastor safe. Nor, anyone that they loved. It’s up to fate to decide that...
Every night after praying underneath the moonlight glow of the cathedral. You’re stricken with a premonition of increasingly disturbed events that keep coming true within 3 days time. You’ve been able to rally your fellow pastors despite their envious hatred of you to spread your messages so others may avoid certain catastrophe. But as fear spreads and the premonitions only get harder to prevent through reasonable means. They start to question if you were the creator or predictor of disasters? Nothing would answer that until it was far too late...
But premonitions would not keep the pastor safe. Nor, anyone that they loved. It’s up to fate to decide that...
Your Sacrifices Will Be Cherished...
Young love would have been considered the happiest moments of my life but those scales were always going to be balanced with tragedy. The truth was that the Gods are angry. The world is in chaos and it needed two sacrifices every five years...which seemed fair for collective eyes. No one had to worry about their children being selected, as it was determined unholy to sacrifice children. Nor both parents who still had young to raise. Often the oldest were treated like fruit from the tree, the ripest of sacrifices worthy for picking. Complaining was blasphemous and just led to jail time, so it was better to spend your days as well as you could...
We were picked at the end of yearly festival and that means we have one last year...but surely...our sacrifices will be cherished.
Young love would have been considered the happiest moments of my life but those scales were always going to be balanced with tragedy. The truth was that the Gods are angry. The world is in chaos and it needed two sacrifices every five years...which seemed fair for collective eyes. No one had to worry about their children being selected, as it was determined unholy to sacrifice children. Nor both parents who still had young to raise. Often the oldest were treated like fruit from the tree, the ripest of sacrifices worthy for picking. Complaining was blasphemous and just led to jail time, so it was better to spend your days as well as you could...
We were picked at the end of yearly festival and that means we have one last year...but surely...our sacrifices will be cherished.
Identity Of The Faceless.
Superheroes and supervillains had become so widespread that the government had already stepped in to solve the biggest crisis ever to face a hero; their secret identity. One too many tears and unmaskings could be fatal to their friends and loved ones. So an enforced compromise was achieved, they’d undergo a surgery that would make them faceless. Still able to see, smell and do everything one would expect. But protecting their secrecy from villains that would take advantage of their good-willingness to save face. Such featureless outcomes were not exactly black and white, but what other choice did the heroes have? The villains certainly weren’t going to change their minds...
Superheroes and supervillains had become so widespread that the government had already stepped in to solve the biggest crisis ever to face a hero; their secret identity. One too many tears and unmaskings could be fatal to their friends and loved ones. So an enforced compromise was achieved, they’d undergo a surgery that would make them faceless. Still able to see, smell and do everything one would expect. But protecting their secrecy from villains that would take advantage of their good-willingness to save face. Such featureless outcomes were not exactly black and white, but what other choice did the heroes have? The villains certainly weren’t going to change their minds...
Come One And All To The Coliseum!
Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention please? Tickets were sold at a pretty penny and 'The Coliseum' always had a full house. You expected a seat in the audience to view some poor sucker fight some caged beasts for chuckles. It wasn’t pleasant in hindsight, but was the only source of entertainment this life had. But instead the audience became the participants, competing with and against various challenges and each other for a show nobody would ever forget. There’s a swift death for those that attempt to flee and refuse to participate when summoned. The ringleaders say you had to survive, until they closed for the night. How hard could that be? Actually, that didn't matter...whatever happened you'd never come back. If they'd ever let you go...
Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention please? Tickets were sold at a pretty penny and 'The Coliseum' always had a full house. You expected a seat in the audience to view some poor sucker fight some caged beasts for chuckles. It wasn’t pleasant in hindsight, but was the only source of entertainment this life had. But instead the audience became the participants, competing with and against various challenges and each other for a show nobody would ever forget. There’s a swift death for those that attempt to flee and refuse to participate when summoned. The ringleaders say you had to survive, until they closed for the night. How hard could that be? Actually, that didn't matter...whatever happened you'd never come back. If they'd ever let you go...
Eulogies In Frozen Time For The Another Afterlife.
Your funeral has just come to pass. Your family and friends sing your eulogies. But you don’t find yourself living in the afterlife, but instead a different world entirely and in a new body. You remember your past, but you’re destined to live on. This process is considered the Everlasting Eulogies cycle. You can continue living on in-between worlds and timelines to enjoy life and be good to others. But not solely because you want to either, you’re required to have your Eulogies sung to get another afterlife. If you don’t have anyone to care about your passing and your positive influence on them, your existence will be erased from every timeline. Like you never existed, which tragically promises you and everyone else the same fate.
Could you be somebody that can put this cycle to rest? Or will you simply become a part of it for the greater good?
Your funeral has just come to pass. Your family and friends sing your eulogies. But you don’t find yourself living in the afterlife, but instead a different world entirely and in a new body. You remember your past, but you’re destined to live on. This process is considered the Everlasting Eulogies cycle. You can continue living on in-between worlds and timelines to enjoy life and be good to others. But not solely because you want to either, you’re required to have your Eulogies sung to get another afterlife. If you don’t have anyone to care about your passing and your positive influence on them, your existence will be erased from every timeline. Like you never existed, which tragically promises you and everyone else the same fate.
Could you be somebody that can put this cycle to rest? Or will you simply become a part of it for the greater good?
Life Drips From These Pages
An artist without any other capable talents or ways to put out their mark upon the world. You don’t have much notoriety, nor really make enough money to call it a living...but it kept you smiling in the process of creation. Creating characters and worlds was the only thing that mattered. But everything changed that morning, when you had an unexpected delivery show up at your door. A large art-book with a few blank sheets inside? You quickly discover what you draw on these pages come to life. Though you aren’t the only one. And others may not use it for whimsy...but feel free to draw your own conclusions.
An artist without any other capable talents or ways to put out their mark upon the world. You don’t have much notoriety, nor really make enough money to call it a living...but it kept you smiling in the process of creation. Creating characters and worlds was the only thing that mattered. But everything changed that morning, when you had an unexpected delivery show up at your door. A large art-book with a few blank sheets inside? You quickly discover what you draw on these pages come to life. Though you aren’t the only one. And others may not use it for whimsy...but feel free to draw your own conclusions.
Training Your Replacement
Just when you thought you couldn’t loathe your job any more. Stuck under contract that you’ve been counting the seconds until you could them where to shove their performance reviews. You were the visionary and creator of blueprints for intricate and complicated...somethings...you were never fully confident what is was you were doing. A paycheck was all that mattered when even an idea of achievement was blurry. When you arrived that Monday morning, you received good and bad news. You were receiving a substantial raise for the last year, though the bad news is that it came with specific terms. During a meeting you were shown what they’ve had under wraps on private higher floors that they kept secret all this time. An actual robot designed with highly advanced artificial intelligence that was going to be replacing you by the end of your contract. You want that extra money? Train your replacement!
Was it even stranger still that an unlikely friendship would spawn from this bizarre situation?
Just when you thought you couldn’t loathe your job any more. Stuck under contract that you’ve been counting the seconds until you could them where to shove their performance reviews. You were the visionary and creator of blueprints for intricate and complicated...somethings...you were never fully confident what is was you were doing. A paycheck was all that mattered when even an idea of achievement was blurry. When you arrived that Monday morning, you received good and bad news. You were receiving a substantial raise for the last year, though the bad news is that it came with specific terms. During a meeting you were shown what they’ve had under wraps on private higher floors that they kept secret all this time. An actual robot designed with highly advanced artificial intelligence that was going to be replacing you by the end of your contract. You want that extra money? Train your replacement!
Was it even stranger still that an unlikely friendship would spawn from this bizarre situation?
The Anamnesis Of Your Avatar
Slowly losing your memories of the real world. Wandering like a ghost wearing a suit of flesh and bone, while you searched for your mind. A virtual reality MMO was your last vestige of your recollected past. A sanctuary you built documenting everything that you had ever remembered put somewhere for you to read and recall the thoughts you had lost. You had a family and many friends, coworkers that all tried to help outside...but you only even recalled their names by opening a treasure chest in a video game. Once that helmet came off your head, you were just a hollow shell of yourself. Perhaps, it was best to leave that world behind and dwell in the realm of the virtual forever...at least until dinner.
Slowly losing your memories of the real world. Wandering like a ghost wearing a suit of flesh and bone, while you searched for your mind. A virtual reality MMO was your last vestige of your recollected past. A sanctuary you built documenting everything that you had ever remembered put somewhere for you to read and recall the thoughts you had lost. You had a family and many friends, coworkers that all tried to help outside...but you only even recalled their names by opening a treasure chest in a video game. Once that helmet came off your head, you were just a hollow shell of yourself. Perhaps, it was best to leave that world behind and dwell in the realm of the virtual forever...at least until dinner.
Just Trust Me...
You poor unfortunate soul, do you see all the suffering around you? People’s misery and cruelty. The world’s disasters aren’t actually natural at all. Your perceived reality is an illusion. So wipe those tears from your eyes and don’t fear me for my strange otherworldly appearance. I am your ally. I am someone that understands your pain. You cannot possibly understand the evil that motivates the world around you. Demons are invisible to the naked eye, spreading their plague and infecting the masses. I can make you a magical girl. You alone can stop every sin caused by demons using humanity and the world they inhabit as their puppets. You will create a utopia and I’ll help you achieve such a righteous goal. Just take my hand and trust me...
You poor unfortunate soul, do you see all the suffering around you? People’s misery and cruelty. The world’s disasters aren’t actually natural at all. Your perceived reality is an illusion. So wipe those tears from your eyes and don’t fear me for my strange otherworldly appearance. I am your ally. I am someone that understands your pain. You cannot possibly understand the evil that motivates the world around you. Demons are invisible to the naked eye, spreading their plague and infecting the masses. I can make you a magical girl. You alone can stop every sin caused by demons using humanity and the world they inhabit as their puppets. You will create a utopia and I’ll help you achieve such a righteous goal. Just take my hand and trust me...
Fields Of Dead Flowers
We aren’t just magical girls. We’re The Revivalists! We can bring fields filled with dead flowers back into full bloom with a simple wave of our power. We can cure life threatening diseases and injuries. By simply inflicting ourselves with great suffering, but we never risk fatalities, only the inability to cast our magic for periods of time. Doesn’t that sound like a heavenly blessing? So why does it feel like our world has been cursed? Well we’ve all experienced unexpected death in our friends or family, a terrible accident or a suicide…but why must we go through a burial ceremony? Let’s go into the graveyards, we could resurrect them like dead flowers...but unlike the flowers, they escape their soil prison. And we'll never be able to undo our mistakes for the creatures we unleashed...
We aren’t just magical girls. We’re The Revivalists! We can bring fields filled with dead flowers back into full bloom with a simple wave of our power. We can cure life threatening diseases and injuries. By simply inflicting ourselves with great suffering, but we never risk fatalities, only the inability to cast our magic for periods of time. Doesn’t that sound like a heavenly blessing? So why does it feel like our world has been cursed? Well we’ve all experienced unexpected death in our friends or family, a terrible accident or a suicide…but why must we go through a burial ceremony? Let’s go into the graveyards, we could resurrect them like dead flowers...but unlike the flowers, they escape their soil prison. And we'll never be able to undo our mistakes for the creatures we unleashed...
Expedition:Extraterrestrial:Encounter
Light years away from our home planet. We didn’t expect another indeterminable alien craft to collide into our ship and set our course into a wormhole that teleported us somewhere even to avid explorers proved unfamiliar. Soon immersed in a galaxy the highest advancements in technology hadn’t charted yet. Despite the many different planets with their own systems and environments, we were still quite hopelessly lost in the emptiness of space. Receiving transmission from the alien ship that experienced the same fate had the ability to communicate and express their interest to mutually benefit each other to get back to our own system...which would prove to be a nigh impossible feat. One certainly harder than simply turning back into where we came from...
The dangers and obstacles we can choose to overcome are infinite...
Light years away from our home planet. We didn’t expect another indeterminable alien craft to collide into our ship and set our course into a wormhole that teleported us somewhere even to avid explorers proved unfamiliar. Soon immersed in a galaxy the highest advancements in technology hadn’t charted yet. Despite the many different planets with their own systems and environments, we were still quite hopelessly lost in the emptiness of space. Receiving transmission from the alien ship that experienced the same fate had the ability to communicate and express their interest to mutually benefit each other to get back to our own system...which would prove to be a nigh impossible feat. One certainly harder than simply turning back into where we came from...
The dangers and obstacles we can choose to overcome are infinite...
Invaders Incoming!
In the distant future from what our forefathers could have reasonably predicted. We’ve obtained mutual prosperity with all cultures, races and creeds. We’ve found resources that create an abundance of food, drinkable water and we provide shelter that makes homelessness a statistically null occurrence. We may have still not lived up to the minds of what a utopia is supposed to sound like…after all we still had large authoritarian militaries and weapon technology as essentially threats to maintain the peace. But to the average among us, it was something to call home. Until these strange ships started firing upon our life without warning. An invasion fleet!? Disaster would strike and take away every individual strives for and accomplished through endless work...these creatures were soon to be named, “Humanoids.” And it was just the beginning of our planet’s problems.
We get to play aliens. Worldbuilding to our heart’s content.
In the distant future from what our forefathers could have reasonably predicted. We’ve obtained mutual prosperity with all cultures, races and creeds. We’ve found resources that create an abundance of food, drinkable water and we provide shelter that makes homelessness a statistically null occurrence. We may have still not lived up to the minds of what a utopia is supposed to sound like…after all we still had large authoritarian militaries and weapon technology as essentially threats to maintain the peace. But to the average among us, it was something to call home. Until these strange ships started firing upon our life without warning. An invasion fleet!? Disaster would strike and take away every individual strives for and accomplished through endless work...these creatures were soon to be named, “Humanoids.” And it was just the beginning of our planet’s problems.
We get to play aliens. Worldbuilding to our heart’s content.
Disclaimer: These aren't the only genres that I'm familiar with. So don't hesitate to ask about others. Same applies to the ideas inside. Genre-mixing is perfectly acceptable. (Will also be adding more genres and ideas in due time...)
A Taste Of Flesh
The damned were cast down into the deepest darkest recesses of hell without redemption in sight. But a particular Seraphim blesses a lonely and regretful demon with a second chance of receiving celestial divinity. Being given freedom to roam the earth, under a watchful eye and strict guidelines to commit no crimes, nor cause acts of chaos. If the demon could find true love, he could regain his morality and reclaim his salvation. Accepting this, the demon tries to search for love and instead rejoices in carnal and hedonistic pleasures of drugs, alcohol and sex. But much to the angel’s annoyance, the demon is tightly following the laws of the land and doesn't seem to care much about the consequences. Will this endeavor prove to be fruitless? Either way it’s going to be in poor taste...
The damned were cast down into the deepest darkest recesses of hell without redemption in sight. But a particular Seraphim blesses a lonely and regretful demon with a second chance of receiving celestial divinity. Being given freedom to roam the earth, under a watchful eye and strict guidelines to commit no crimes, nor cause acts of chaos. If the demon could find true love, he could regain his morality and reclaim his salvation. Accepting this, the demon tries to search for love and instead rejoices in carnal and hedonistic pleasures of drugs, alcohol and sex. But much to the angel’s annoyance, the demon is tightly following the laws of the land and doesn't seem to care much about the consequences. Will this endeavor prove to be fruitless? Either way it’s going to be in poor taste...
I'd Reaper Be Dead...
Fate wasn’t kind to you. How were you supposed to ever find a long lasting relationship if your own health was fragile? Love seemed as hopeless as the life that surrounded you. But when the literal reaper came knocking, it gave a peculiar request written in a blood contract. Not only would you be cured of the sickness ailing you, you were promised a relationship that would be everlasting. Because nobody reads the fine print and it seemed infinitely better than death. Waking up had never felt so good. But that’s after the shock that Reaper has become your significant other...oh a heartbeat...at least they were alive?
Fate wasn’t kind to you. How were you supposed to ever find a long lasting relationship if your own health was fragile? Love seemed as hopeless as the life that surrounded you. But when the literal reaper came knocking, it gave a peculiar request written in a blood contract. Not only would you be cured of the sickness ailing you, you were promised a relationship that would be everlasting. Because nobody reads the fine print and it seemed infinitely better than death. Waking up had never felt so good. But that’s after the shock that Reaper has become your significant other...oh a heartbeat...at least they were alive?
Our Flames Burn Bright
As a professional mediator, you could talk yourself and others out of any situation. But words weren’t always sharper in comparison to the sheer cold brought upon by the winter elements. Your wagon was destroyed by the force of the sudden blizzard and you got lost from the convoy with no practical knowledge of the surrounding area. You tried finding shelter or even a road…hearing a thunderous roar from the horizon and knowing the rumors of dragons of their carnivorous appetite, you eventually surrendered to mother nature as something large descending from the sky.
You awaken in a cave beside a warm fire, but notice it was burning despite having no kindling underneath. You find yourself in a magical dragon’s cave who has no real interest in eating you and only saved you because of decency's sake. But wants you gone now that you’ve recovered. And you are NOT riding on their back. You do what you never thought you would have to, you plead to stay until the still ongoing blizzard dies down...and you manage to succeed, now what?
As a professional mediator, you could talk yourself and others out of any situation. But words weren’t always sharper in comparison to the sheer cold brought upon by the winter elements. Your wagon was destroyed by the force of the sudden blizzard and you got lost from the convoy with no practical knowledge of the surrounding area. You tried finding shelter or even a road…hearing a thunderous roar from the horizon and knowing the rumors of dragons of their carnivorous appetite, you eventually surrendered to mother nature as something large descending from the sky.
You awaken in a cave beside a warm fire, but notice it was burning despite having no kindling underneath. You find yourself in a magical dragon’s cave who has no real interest in eating you and only saved you because of decency's sake. But wants you gone now that you’ve recovered. And you are NOT riding on their back. You do what you never thought you would have to, you plead to stay until the still ongoing blizzard dies down...and you manage to succeed, now what?
Paw From Civilization
They should’ve just taken a commercial plane. But their private plane losing control and crash landing into some strange foreign jungle far from civilization wasn’t the weirdest thing that would happen to them. While searching for resources and a way out, they end up stumbling across a highly advanced anthropomorphic tribe that created treehouses connected by many bridges. Learning of savages that were outcast and left to die in the wilderness. Though they have no interest in helping them and tell them to fend for yourself. Which ends up getting them into a lot of trouble, until they come across one of those savages...prey that it doesn’t think you look appetizing.
They should’ve just taken a commercial plane. But their private plane losing control and crash landing into some strange foreign jungle far from civilization wasn’t the weirdest thing that would happen to them. While searching for resources and a way out, they end up stumbling across a highly advanced anthropomorphic tribe that created treehouses connected by many bridges. Learning of savages that were outcast and left to die in the wilderness. Though they have no interest in helping them and tell them to fend for yourself. Which ends up getting them into a lot of trouble, until they come across one of those savages...prey that it doesn’t think you look appetizing.
Love Comes In A Spectrum.
Some people just don’t know what they want. Nor what they find attractive. That’s when you deal with those friends who dictate that you’re just not trying hard enough. Do blind dates, they said. It would be fun, they said. Bleh! So far I’ve only added a few dozen traits for red flags. But that’s where it all really started. There was this one who seemed to get along with me just fine, though they were shy and awkward.
It was a good time, but I feel like I could get someone that relates to me more. But the one after that, was even better. In fact most of my blind dates have been on the steady incline to the point I think I met my perfect match...did they just completely alter their body structure? As it turns out...the shy and awkward date I had those many dates ago was actually every single date I've been on after. And I don’t know how I feel about that...
Some people just don’t know what they want. Nor what they find attractive. That’s when you deal with those friends who dictate that you’re just not trying hard enough. Do blind dates, they said. It would be fun, they said. Bleh! So far I’ve only added a few dozen traits for red flags. But that’s where it all really started. There was this one who seemed to get along with me just fine, though they were shy and awkward.
It was a good time, but I feel like I could get someone that relates to me more. But the one after that, was even better. In fact most of my blind dates have been on the steady incline to the point I think I met my perfect match...did they just completely alter their body structure? As it turns out...the shy and awkward date I had those many dates ago was actually every single date I've been on after. And I don’t know how I feel about that...
The Captive and Captivated
In these harsh times, a territory skirmish gets bloody and cruel. Especially the longer it drags on and on, which keeps the kingdom’s citizenry isolated within their walls for their safety. Oftentimes it was considered being prisoners of war was a fate worse than death. Tortured into becoming lesser valued slave labor, like roaches that multiplied that would rather be stepped on, but never get the comfort to die.
A proud warrior stripped of their weapons, gear and their pride. Finding themselves sleeping in a cold dark cell, expecting the same fate since he was captured in battle. Though instead they find themselves begrudgingly accepting an offering they can’t refuse...
In these harsh times, a territory skirmish gets bloody and cruel. Especially the longer it drags on and on, which keeps the kingdom’s citizenry isolated within their walls for their safety. Oftentimes it was considered being prisoners of war was a fate worse than death. Tortured into becoming lesser valued slave labor, like roaches that multiplied that would rather be stepped on, but never get the comfort to die.
A proud warrior stripped of their weapons, gear and their pride. Finding themselves sleeping in a cold dark cell, expecting the same fate since he was captured in battle. Though instead they find themselves begrudgingly accepting an offering they can’t refuse...
Disclaimer: Don't exactly have an extensive list, because this isn't my forte. But this is my olive branch extending to those interested in romance and/or smut roleplays. Nearly any of the examples could be altered. So feel free to ask about different pairings. But I need an actual plot regardless. I'm also used to the weird. So the more bizarre the situation, the better it is at keeping my interest. I'd prefer MXF relationships...but you can ask anyway. (Though the sex I play doesn't really matter to me. The 'gritty' details can be discussed further in PM's. (Will probably expand upon the list and update ideas in time...)
(More examples may be given in future!)
roleplayerguild.com/topics/167809-the…
A thousand strangers eyes gave fearful glances. A blade leaving a trail of red behind, strapped to the blood covered beast. Carrying a large carcass on his shoulder. He moves through the cobblestone streets. Passing the clamoring crowds from dozens of street vendors peddling their wares, briefly turning silent. Hearing the whispers of his scars and beastfolk stereotypes. He walks straight up to a stocky beastfolk vendor, dropping the carcass down on the table. Waking the sleeping beastfolk vendor, who looks up and lets out a bemused chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, fishing out a leather bag from a chest he was resting beside and extending his arm toward him. The bloody beast grabbed the bag, it was heavy and the sound of jingling when lightly shaken gave him a brief smile.
“Sounds like the payment is all there. Thank you for doing business with me, it was a tricky creature to track and hunt. But it provided me with quite a good workout.” The beast said turning around, stopping when the vendor did an intentionally loud throat clearing.
“Bastian-you may want to go to the bath house and wash that blood off. You’re making the market goer’s uncomfortable, hell I’ve known you for years and you’re making me uneasy. Last thing I need is scared off customers during the biggest influx of new customers, because of the prisoner slave trade that starts later this morning.” The vendor explained. Bastian glanced back at the vender, eyebrows raised slightly, retaining a solemn expression.
“I suppose so, thanks.” “Though I don’t see why blood is so much of a problem in a city as immoral as this one. Though a prisoner slave trade? Maybe I can find someone there…” Bastian thought before heading straight to the bathhouse. Stepping inside and stripping off the little clothing he had, into a steaming hot bath. Feeling relief from his aching muscles, washing himself off for a moment. Staring at the silver ring around his middle finger than letting out a sigh.
“Maybe I should've rested after the night hunt.” Bastian thought letting out a yawn, scratching his chest and stretching backward, hearing a loud crack, looking up at the clear morning skies. Stepping through the gathered crowd of aristocrats, a single article of their clothing probably costed more than the bag of coins he carried. The city guards had their weapons drawn, standing on a tall wooden platform, with several rows of people with balls and chains. It was clear that the prisoner slave trade had just begun...
In The Center Of The Largest City Market
A thousand strangers eyes gave fearful glances. A blade leaving a trail of red behind, strapped to the blood covered beast. Carrying a large carcass on his shoulder. He moves through the cobblestone streets. Passing the clamoring crowds from dozens of street vendors peddling their wares, briefly turning silent. Hearing the whispers of his scars and beastfolk stereotypes. He walks straight up to a stocky beastfolk vendor, dropping the carcass down on the table. Waking the sleeping beastfolk vendor, who looks up and lets out a bemused chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, fishing out a leather bag from a chest he was resting beside and extending his arm toward him. The bloody beast grabbed the bag, it was heavy and the sound of jingling when lightly shaken gave him a brief smile.
“Sounds like the payment is all there. Thank you for doing business with me, it was a tricky creature to track and hunt. But it provided me with quite a good workout.” The beast said turning around, stopping when the vendor did an intentionally loud throat clearing.
“Bastian-you may want to go to the bath house and wash that blood off. You’re making the market goer’s uncomfortable, hell I’ve known you for years and you’re making me uneasy. Last thing I need is scared off customers during the biggest influx of new customers, because of the prisoner slave trade that starts later this morning.” The vendor explained. Bastian glanced back at the vender, eyebrows raised slightly, retaining a solemn expression.
“I suppose so, thanks.” “Though I don’t see why blood is so much of a problem in a city as immoral as this one. Though a prisoner slave trade? Maybe I can find someone there…” Bastian thought before heading straight to the bathhouse. Stepping inside and stripping off the little clothing he had, into a steaming hot bath. Feeling relief from his aching muscles, washing himself off for a moment. Staring at the silver ring around his middle finger than letting out a sigh.
* * *
“Maybe I should've rested after the night hunt.” Bastian thought letting out a yawn, scratching his chest and stretching backward, hearing a loud crack, looking up at the clear morning skies. Stepping through the gathered crowd of aristocrats, a single article of their clothing probably costed more than the bag of coins he carried. The city guards had their weapons drawn, standing on a tall wooden platform, with several rows of people with balls and chains. It was clear that the prisoner slave trade had just begun...
(More examples may be given in future!)
roleplayerguild.com/topics/168840-ken…
The visible miasma escaped through the window the furled wolf rested under, placing a paw on top of his nose to mitigate the surrounding stench, sunlight blocked by the blanket shielding his eyes. Hearing pacing footsteps, sounds of chopping crunchy vegetables, bubbling water, the crackling of flame. His ears twitched, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. Outside the wooden cabin, surrounded by luscious crops, foliage and towering trees. Soaring through skies slowly suppressed by grey clouds coming from the west, until catching the familiar scent coming from home, diving down to a soft fluffy landing. Abruptly, a cacophonous melody squawked in wolf’s ears.
“Wake up, wake up! Never a better moment to move your lazy bones out of bed. Come outside and enjoy this beautiful afternoon.” The raven proclaimed, perched on top of the wolf’s noggin. The wolf jolted upright from the blankets he slept on, swatting the empty space above of his head, growling at the raven, having already landed on Lydrim’s shoulder. Looking at the all the produce, spices and herbs spread across the table, while Lydrim was casually stirring some clear yellow liquid, with tree roots floating inside, smelling like vegetable stock.
“Dammit Vashti! I was sleeping.” The wolf snapped, the raven didn’t need acknowledge his words or his death glare. Lydrim chuckled and turned around, smiling at the wolf.
“Good morning to you too, Lyros.” Lydrim said. The wolf jumped off the bed, giving him a cold shoulder and walking past.
“I’m not responding to some stupid pet name, I’m nobody's pet.” The wolf muttered while leaning down and gulping down some water put inside a bowl. Lydrim grabbed a minced leafy herb from his counter, taking an observant look before walking over and stuck the plant near Lyros’s nose. Lyros reluctantly sniffed it, giving Lydrim a look of revulsion, turning away and letting out a loud retching sound. Lydrim smiled and let out a hearty laugh.
“Looks like I picked the right one after all.” Lydrim said sprinkling the herb into the bubbling pot, still being watched by Vashti.
“So, what are you making for me? Is this all for me?” Vashti asked. Lydrim chuckled, starting to clean up the counter.
“I’m afraid not, it's for a wealthy customer I’m expecting within the hour-” Lydrim replied, the raven flew off his shoulder and landed back on Lyros’s head.
“Good. I much prefer eating raw meats anyway.” Vashti said cheerfully, sitting down. “Something Lyros and I have in common, isn’t that right buddy?”
“Consider yourself lucky I don’t like my food obnoxious.” Lyros quickly retorted.
“Don’t worry you two, after I’ve served my customer. I’ll serve your dinner.” Lydrim assured. Finished preparing his meal, mixing everything into a single pot, grabbing a bowl to pour the steaming concoction inside the bowl and putting in under a platter. Closing the window to kept the draft from blowing in, cracking the nearest door open. Lyros lazily walked out, with Vashti getting in flight, beating him outside and promptly bragging about it. Lydrim shut the door behind them, picking up a sharp kitchen knife. Glancing at his own smirking reflection hearing simultaneous sounds of methodical knocking upon the front door, gently wiping and setting the knife down. “Speaking of the devil...”
Heading quickly toward and opening the front door, the slender noble dressed in noticeably expensive attire, noticing the ashen colors above coating the entire sky. He stepped inside, Lydrim closed the door behind him.
“Welcome, I just finished preparing your meal. So you won’t need to wait, you can eat and we can get into the business proposal you discussed with me.” Lydrim said watching the noble’s eyes scanning the surrounding room, changing his facial expression several times in a few seconds, before stepping inside from the scent coming from the platter set up on a table. The table had been meticulously set up, a perfectly clean white tablecloth, a silver plate with pleasant aroma of steam, with an array of colorful flowers inside a handcrafted vase and fresh fruit inside a basket used for set pieces that were fairly atypical for a noble. With a nearby standing torch, illuminating the entire area surrounding the table. The noble took a seat, Lydrim walked up beside him and picked up the bottle that was sitting on the table, pulling the cork open. The noble raised his hand in a stopping motion, covered with fingerless white gloves.
“I don’t wish to partake in any ch-wine. Just fetch me some clean and disinfected water, if you have that.” The noble remarked, clearing his throat and taking his gloves off. Lydrim put on a pleasant smile, before he could reply. “I’ll leave my coat on.” The noble added. Lydrim simply nodded and left the noble, heading back into the kitchen. The noble removed the top tray, and instantly scoffed looking at the food’s presentation. Seeing a vegetable medley, some hodgepodge stew and some bread, the noble nearly sat up until smelling the scent coming from the stew, instead only leaning back into his seat and picking up the spoon.
Unbeknownst to the noble, four eyes glared at him from behind. Lyros and Vashti stares from the window, ducking from sight when the noble glanced in their direction. The noble scooped the stew inside the spoon and lightly chewed and swallowed the first spoonful, his inner thought gasping, the experience his taste buds were submerged in, was practically orgasmic. The noble took several more spoonfuls of the stew, taking a bite of the bread to cut down the intense earthy sweetness.
“I cannot deny his cooking ability is above par, though he’s foolish if he thinks I’ll be hiring him into my business. I only came to dispose of the evidence that I know he has...” The noble thought with a smirk.
Lydrim casually walked inside, holding a glass of water. The noble glanced in his direction, giving him an perturbed glare, watching Lydrim raise the glass up to his mouth and chugging the water down and setting the glass with a loud clash on the table. The noble opened his mouth, being instantly greeted with a swift fist swung full force in his face. Lydrim knocking him over on his backside and toppling over the stool, causing the noble to sink his teeth into his tongue and ripping a chunk off.
“How dare!” The noble screamed with blood escaping his lips and leaking down of his nose, suddenly feeling his legs, arm and every muscle in his body constrict and freeze like the largest constrictor was wrapped around his body, suffocating him within its grasp. Lydrim quickly grabbing an apple from the table and shoved it into the noble’s mouth, keeping him silenced.
“‘Sylis-Parthexia’, a rare parasite killing herb that resembles a near identical look and texture to a medicinal herb, often used for stomach pain. But instead of the bitterness, it’s pleasantly sweet. However, instead of ailing someone that ingests it, it releases spores into the bloodstream and causes the brain to induce a chemical that absolutely shuts down all muscle function. Leaving anyone unfortunate enough to eat it, paralyzed. It can be identified by talented herbalists or just from the foul odor that only animals can detect.” Lydrim explained in a calm tone, walking over to the front door and cracking it open. Lyros and Vashti came inside out of the darkness. The noble gave Lydrim an enraged glare, lying motionless on the floor.
“Fortunately for you, it harmlessly passes through the digestive system within a couple hours. Unfortunately for you, the moment you decided to interfere in the communities trade routes and purposely raise taxes until families can no longer pay, making duplicitous deals with young women and make them into your concubines. You get enough people that pay me instead…” Lydrim said approaching the noble and kicking his face, subsequently taking the apple out of his mouth. “To kill you…”
The noble coughed out, spitting out a tooth and more blood that poured from his mouth. “You’ll regret this! My constituents know I’m here, they’ll find-” Interrupted by laughter coming from the wolf, shocking the noble unable to speak.
“I understand what you meant earlier, Lydrim. I guess you do love telling your jokes.” Lyros scoffed, pacing around the noble with Vashti sitting on Lydrim’s raised arm. Lydrim chuckled at the thought and walked up to the torch, gripping the stand. Vashti looked at Lydrim.
“Oh my, can we eat everything? I’m famished.” Vashti squawked. The noble's heart raced, his eyes widened looking at the wolf licking his lips and the raven flying up and landing directly on the noble’s upper chest.
“Dinner is served…” Lydrim said blowing the flame out and the room suddenly went pitch black. Walking away from the noble, gazing upon two pairs of glowing eyes.
“W-wait sto-” The noble stuttered out before letting out guttural scream, feeling his eye being penetrated and pulled out of his socket, abruptly cut silent by the wolf’s fangs sinking deep into his neck. Tuning out the sound of his friends getting their fill. Lydrim let out a yawn, laying on his bed with arms crossed behind his head, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep to have dreams about having rugged facial hair.
Waking abruptly to some squawking, with a letter literally dropping his lap from above. Vashti perched on the windowsill. Lydrim opened his eyes and sat upright, looking at the letter pleasantly surprised. Curiosity sparkling in his eye though it quickly disappeared when discovering the only thing inside, was just something written on parchment. Lydrim glanced at the letter, reading over it carefully, inaudibly mumbling the words aloud. Putting the letter aside before standing beside his bed, looking at Vashti, giving her a smile.
“Thank you. Lyros washing himself off at the pond again?” He asked getting a nod confirming his assumptions. Stretching his back until hearing a crack, noticing sounds of sprinkling coming from outside. Opening the window and sharply inhaling the scents coming from the outdoors, fresh air filling his lungs. Before exhaling longingly and rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose it’s time to clean up the mess...” Lydrim started with scrubbing and cleaning his dishes.
“What did the letter say? You didn’t seem too interested.” Vashti said interrupting the silence.
“I’m not. It’s something trying to convince me to use my talents elsewhere. Likely for their own ends. People that send letters like that, are almost always duplicitous.” Lydrim replied looking around. “Oh-yes, the platter.” Lydrim uttered casually strolling into the room, the body was gone and only the blood splattered floors remained, signs of many footprints and the body being dragged toward the front door.
He grabbed the platter without hesitation and headed right back to doing the dishes, disposing of the contents of the stew while thoughts suddenly spilled from his head. Vashti was occupied ruffling her feathers, hearing the sounds of the side door getting scratched at. Lydrim set the platter down, grabbed a towel and let Lyros back inside. Lyros glared as a towel was lightly tossed over him, covering half his head. Lydrim dried him off thoroughly as possible.
“We’re leaving later this afternoon, after I pack my things and do some tidying up. We likely won’t be coming back ” Lydrim stated matter-of-factly before heading off, to scrub the blood off his floors. Lyros turned to Vashti.
“What the hell did I miss?” Lyros asked.
“Being wise doesn’t mean I know everything…” Vashti sheepishly replied before adding. “Just more than you-”
While Lydrim was occupied on his hands and knees, continuously scrubbing, hearing the habitual commotion coming from the other room. “Hey now, don’t ruin my bed!” Lydrim called out, staring the bloody floors being nowhere near clean yet. “In hindsight, I really need to train you both not to eat so messily…”
They hadn’t traveled in a while, but he had enough foregoing knowledge of routes to avoid being arrested and ideas of strangers arriving was the last thing he needed. Lydrim distracted his past memories through exchanging pleasantries with the horse he rode on. Eventually arriving at the docking stations, with nothing but a large brown sack being carried over his right shoulder. Lyros and Vashti staying beside him, paying no heed to the crowds of strangers leering, as they followed without anyone daring to pry. Getting abroad one of the airships, exchanging a ticket and finding a secluded place to drop his luggage and settle, waiting for takeoff.
Scarcely spotting passengers daring to stay nearby for any extended period, from either of his companions presence, watching themselves ascending up into the skies leaving Tellus behind for the very first time in thirty years. Lydrim held the mysterious letter he received, clenching his fist and exhaling. Approaching his destination, Tenebra, the Continent of Darkness. Anticipating more than just who sent that letter to be waiting inside the Courtyard of the Sages.
Underwhelmed was the first thing that crossed his mind and ghastly was the first word to escape his companions mouth when disembarking on the airship and going across Tenebra, wasn’t exactly aesthetically pleasing. Until Lydrim laid his eyes upon an ornate metal gate shaped like a dragon covered with thick thorny vines, stone walls and concealed what lied within. Vashti flapped over his shoulder and flew above the courtyard’s walls, peering into depths of obscurity before giving up and perching on Lyros’s head.
“Couldn't make out anything. Seems like you're the first to arrive.” Vashti said.
“Will you stop using my head to perch-” Lyros grumbled before just conceding his ineffectual protest. Lydrim stepped forward, noticing the gate silently opening on its own, before walking inside and viewing the luscious gardens and the giant fountain in the center. Barely passing the entrance, before turning himself around to focus on the gate shutting behind him.
“Try not getting lost, I’ll be waiting for the others to arrive.” Lydrim said giving permissions to Lyros and Vashti to explore the grounds of the Courtyard of the Sages, promptly taking off to observe their surroundings. Sitting down with crossed legs and leaning forward and resting his crossed arms on his sack, Lydrim stayed there, remaining calm, wondering exactly how many were about to come through those gates and questioning exactly what he got himself into...
The visible miasma escaped through the window the furled wolf rested under, placing a paw on top of his nose to mitigate the surrounding stench, sunlight blocked by the blanket shielding his eyes. Hearing pacing footsteps, sounds of chopping crunchy vegetables, bubbling water, the crackling of flame. His ears twitched, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. Outside the wooden cabin, surrounded by luscious crops, foliage and towering trees. Soaring through skies slowly suppressed by grey clouds coming from the west, until catching the familiar scent coming from home, diving down to a soft fluffy landing. Abruptly, a cacophonous melody squawked in wolf’s ears.
“Wake up, wake up! Never a better moment to move your lazy bones out of bed. Come outside and enjoy this beautiful afternoon.” The raven proclaimed, perched on top of the wolf’s noggin. The wolf jolted upright from the blankets he slept on, swatting the empty space above of his head, growling at the raven, having already landed on Lydrim’s shoulder. Looking at the all the produce, spices and herbs spread across the table, while Lydrim was casually stirring some clear yellow liquid, with tree roots floating inside, smelling like vegetable stock.
“Dammit Vashti! I was sleeping.” The wolf snapped, the raven didn’t need acknowledge his words or his death glare. Lydrim chuckled and turned around, smiling at the wolf.
“Good morning to you too, Lyros.” Lydrim said. The wolf jumped off the bed, giving him a cold shoulder and walking past.
“I’m not responding to some stupid pet name, I’m nobody's pet.” The wolf muttered while leaning down and gulping down some water put inside a bowl. Lydrim grabbed a minced leafy herb from his counter, taking an observant look before walking over and stuck the plant near Lyros’s nose. Lyros reluctantly sniffed it, giving Lydrim a look of revulsion, turning away and letting out a loud retching sound. Lydrim smiled and let out a hearty laugh.
“Looks like I picked the right one after all.” Lydrim said sprinkling the herb into the bubbling pot, still being watched by Vashti.
“So, what are you making for me? Is this all for me?” Vashti asked. Lydrim chuckled, starting to clean up the counter.
“I’m afraid not, it's for a wealthy customer I’m expecting within the hour-” Lydrim replied, the raven flew off his shoulder and landed back on Lyros’s head.
“Good. I much prefer eating raw meats anyway.” Vashti said cheerfully, sitting down. “Something Lyros and I have in common, isn’t that right buddy?”
“Consider yourself lucky I don’t like my food obnoxious.” Lyros quickly retorted.
“Don’t worry you two, after I’ve served my customer. I’ll serve your dinner.” Lydrim assured. Finished preparing his meal, mixing everything into a single pot, grabbing a bowl to pour the steaming concoction inside the bowl and putting in under a platter. Closing the window to kept the draft from blowing in, cracking the nearest door open. Lyros lazily walked out, with Vashti getting in flight, beating him outside and promptly bragging about it. Lydrim shut the door behind them, picking up a sharp kitchen knife. Glancing at his own smirking reflection hearing simultaneous sounds of methodical knocking upon the front door, gently wiping and setting the knife down. “Speaking of the devil...”
Heading quickly toward and opening the front door, the slender noble dressed in noticeably expensive attire, noticing the ashen colors above coating the entire sky. He stepped inside, Lydrim closed the door behind him.
“Welcome, I just finished preparing your meal. So you won’t need to wait, you can eat and we can get into the business proposal you discussed with me.” Lydrim said watching the noble’s eyes scanning the surrounding room, changing his facial expression several times in a few seconds, before stepping inside from the scent coming from the platter set up on a table. The table had been meticulously set up, a perfectly clean white tablecloth, a silver plate with pleasant aroma of steam, with an array of colorful flowers inside a handcrafted vase and fresh fruit inside a basket used for set pieces that were fairly atypical for a noble. With a nearby standing torch, illuminating the entire area surrounding the table. The noble took a seat, Lydrim walked up beside him and picked up the bottle that was sitting on the table, pulling the cork open. The noble raised his hand in a stopping motion, covered with fingerless white gloves.
“I don’t wish to partake in any ch-wine. Just fetch me some clean and disinfected water, if you have that.” The noble remarked, clearing his throat and taking his gloves off. Lydrim put on a pleasant smile, before he could reply. “I’ll leave my coat on.” The noble added. Lydrim simply nodded and left the noble, heading back into the kitchen. The noble removed the top tray, and instantly scoffed looking at the food’s presentation. Seeing a vegetable medley, some hodgepodge stew and some bread, the noble nearly sat up until smelling the scent coming from the stew, instead only leaning back into his seat and picking up the spoon.
Unbeknownst to the noble, four eyes glared at him from behind. Lyros and Vashti stares from the window, ducking from sight when the noble glanced in their direction. The noble scooped the stew inside the spoon and lightly chewed and swallowed the first spoonful, his inner thought gasping, the experience his taste buds were submerged in, was practically orgasmic. The noble took several more spoonfuls of the stew, taking a bite of the bread to cut down the intense earthy sweetness.
“I cannot deny his cooking ability is above par, though he’s foolish if he thinks I’ll be hiring him into my business. I only came to dispose of the evidence that I know he has...” The noble thought with a smirk.
Lydrim casually walked inside, holding a glass of water. The noble glanced in his direction, giving him an perturbed glare, watching Lydrim raise the glass up to his mouth and chugging the water down and setting the glass with a loud clash on the table. The noble opened his mouth, being instantly greeted with a swift fist swung full force in his face. Lydrim knocking him over on his backside and toppling over the stool, causing the noble to sink his teeth into his tongue and ripping a chunk off.
“How dare!” The noble screamed with blood escaping his lips and leaking down of his nose, suddenly feeling his legs, arm and every muscle in his body constrict and freeze like the largest constrictor was wrapped around his body, suffocating him within its grasp. Lydrim quickly grabbing an apple from the table and shoved it into the noble’s mouth, keeping him silenced.
“‘Sylis-Parthexia’, a rare parasite killing herb that resembles a near identical look and texture to a medicinal herb, often used for stomach pain. But instead of the bitterness, it’s pleasantly sweet. However, instead of ailing someone that ingests it, it releases spores into the bloodstream and causes the brain to induce a chemical that absolutely shuts down all muscle function. Leaving anyone unfortunate enough to eat it, paralyzed. It can be identified by talented herbalists or just from the foul odor that only animals can detect.” Lydrim explained in a calm tone, walking over to the front door and cracking it open. Lyros and Vashti came inside out of the darkness. The noble gave Lydrim an enraged glare, lying motionless on the floor.
“Fortunately for you, it harmlessly passes through the digestive system within a couple hours. Unfortunately for you, the moment you decided to interfere in the communities trade routes and purposely raise taxes until families can no longer pay, making duplicitous deals with young women and make them into your concubines. You get enough people that pay me instead…” Lydrim said approaching the noble and kicking his face, subsequently taking the apple out of his mouth. “To kill you…”
The noble coughed out, spitting out a tooth and more blood that poured from his mouth. “You’ll regret this! My constituents know I’m here, they’ll find-” Interrupted by laughter coming from the wolf, shocking the noble unable to speak.
“I understand what you meant earlier, Lydrim. I guess you do love telling your jokes.” Lyros scoffed, pacing around the noble with Vashti sitting on Lydrim’s raised arm. Lydrim chuckled at the thought and walked up to the torch, gripping the stand. Vashti looked at Lydrim.
“Oh my, can we eat everything? I’m famished.” Vashti squawked. The noble's heart raced, his eyes widened looking at the wolf licking his lips and the raven flying up and landing directly on the noble’s upper chest.
“Dinner is served…” Lydrim said blowing the flame out and the room suddenly went pitch black. Walking away from the noble, gazing upon two pairs of glowing eyes.
“W-wait sto-” The noble stuttered out before letting out guttural scream, feeling his eye being penetrated and pulled out of his socket, abruptly cut silent by the wolf’s fangs sinking deep into his neck. Tuning out the sound of his friends getting their fill. Lydrim let out a yawn, laying on his bed with arms crossed behind his head, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep to have dreams about having rugged facial hair.
* * *
Waking abruptly to some squawking, with a letter literally dropping his lap from above. Vashti perched on the windowsill. Lydrim opened his eyes and sat upright, looking at the letter pleasantly surprised. Curiosity sparkling in his eye though it quickly disappeared when discovering the only thing inside, was just something written on parchment. Lydrim glanced at the letter, reading over it carefully, inaudibly mumbling the words aloud. Putting the letter aside before standing beside his bed, looking at Vashti, giving her a smile.
“Thank you. Lyros washing himself off at the pond again?” He asked getting a nod confirming his assumptions. Stretching his back until hearing a crack, noticing sounds of sprinkling coming from outside. Opening the window and sharply inhaling the scents coming from the outdoors, fresh air filling his lungs. Before exhaling longingly and rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose it’s time to clean up the mess...” Lydrim started with scrubbing and cleaning his dishes.
“What did the letter say? You didn’t seem too interested.” Vashti said interrupting the silence.
“I’m not. It’s something trying to convince me to use my talents elsewhere. Likely for their own ends. People that send letters like that, are almost always duplicitous.” Lydrim replied looking around. “Oh-yes, the platter.” Lydrim uttered casually strolling into the room, the body was gone and only the blood splattered floors remained, signs of many footprints and the body being dragged toward the front door.
He grabbed the platter without hesitation and headed right back to doing the dishes, disposing of the contents of the stew while thoughts suddenly spilled from his head. Vashti was occupied ruffling her feathers, hearing the sounds of the side door getting scratched at. Lydrim set the platter down, grabbed a towel and let Lyros back inside. Lyros glared as a towel was lightly tossed over him, covering half his head. Lydrim dried him off thoroughly as possible.
“We’re leaving later this afternoon, after I pack my things and do some tidying up. We likely won’t be coming back ” Lydrim stated matter-of-factly before heading off, to scrub the blood off his floors. Lyros turned to Vashti.
“What the hell did I miss?” Lyros asked.
“Being wise doesn’t mean I know everything…” Vashti sheepishly replied before adding. “Just more than you-”
While Lydrim was occupied on his hands and knees, continuously scrubbing, hearing the habitual commotion coming from the other room. “Hey now, don’t ruin my bed!” Lydrim called out, staring the bloody floors being nowhere near clean yet. “In hindsight, I really need to train you both not to eat so messily…”
* * *
They hadn’t traveled in a while, but he had enough foregoing knowledge of routes to avoid being arrested and ideas of strangers arriving was the last thing he needed. Lydrim distracted his past memories through exchanging pleasantries with the horse he rode on. Eventually arriving at the docking stations, with nothing but a large brown sack being carried over his right shoulder. Lyros and Vashti staying beside him, paying no heed to the crowds of strangers leering, as they followed without anyone daring to pry. Getting abroad one of the airships, exchanging a ticket and finding a secluded place to drop his luggage and settle, waiting for takeoff.
Scarcely spotting passengers daring to stay nearby for any extended period, from either of his companions presence, watching themselves ascending up into the skies leaving Tellus behind for the very first time in thirty years. Lydrim held the mysterious letter he received, clenching his fist and exhaling. Approaching his destination, Tenebra, the Continent of Darkness. Anticipating more than just who sent that letter to be waiting inside the Courtyard of the Sages.
* * *
Underwhelmed was the first thing that crossed his mind and ghastly was the first word to escape his companions mouth when disembarking on the airship and going across Tenebra, wasn’t exactly aesthetically pleasing. Until Lydrim laid his eyes upon an ornate metal gate shaped like a dragon covered with thick thorny vines, stone walls and concealed what lied within. Vashti flapped over his shoulder and flew above the courtyard’s walls, peering into depths of obscurity before giving up and perching on Lyros’s head.
“Couldn't make out anything. Seems like you're the first to arrive.” Vashti said.
“Will you stop using my head to perch-” Lyros grumbled before just conceding his ineffectual protest. Lydrim stepped forward, noticing the gate silently opening on its own, before walking inside and viewing the luscious gardens and the giant fountain in the center. Barely passing the entrance, before turning himself around to focus on the gate shutting behind him.
“Try not getting lost, I’ll be waiting for the others to arrive.” Lydrim said giving permissions to Lyros and Vashti to explore the grounds of the Courtyard of the Sages, promptly taking off to observe their surroundings. Sitting down with crossed legs and leaning forward and resting his crossed arms on his sack, Lydrim stayed there, remaining calm, wondering exactly how many were about to come through those gates and questioning exactly what he got himself into...
roleplayerguild.com/topics/174748-hey…
The burning star’s golden shine bathed the lucid lake in radiance, sharing its splendor with all that frolic happily underneath its reach. Peaceful summer mating melodies chirped by sparrows atop the American elm where Izzy Ivanowski shaded, combined with a dark hat that gave her cat ears and goggles that made her an exception to the rule. Unlike the birds seeking a profound partnership, she was undergoing an analysis under careful consideration. A mere split-second decision could drastically alter her reality and those that surrounded her. She leaned in while staring intensely at the rippling water as she sat like a pretzel with the tenting fingers tapping...nah, drowning around the other kids wouldn’t prove to be a valuable use of her time. Immediately hopping up and crouched like a frog, then leaping forward with her elbows and knees sticking the landing as she lied on her stomach. Her feet swaying through the air gently as the breeze hitting the branches. Nature for her was an inquisitive focus on a pitch-black screen, a meaningless empty void until controlled by its user by pushing the power button. Izzy's eyes lit up like the laptop, soon reflecting on her reflected image viewing her long-messy hair as she casually brushed it back. Double clicking on her “Projects” folder in the top-right corner and opening the only file inside it, the program showered with binary in yellow text despite the lack of clouds on the horizon. Her fingers danced upon the keyboard, rocking her head to the satisfying rhythm of clicks. She considered it like a pianist playing in a concerto, treating every line of code like an array of notes needed to be perfected. Perhaps, unbeknownst to an outsider’s likely perspective of spotting a hyperactive oddball whose self-isolated herself from socializing and instead choose to fiddle with technology, they’d never imagine this was her state of euphoria, probably because of her emotionless expression.
It was still unclear whether this an opportunity for adventure, or just a punishment for her purposely sporadic misbehavior. But her adoptive parents determined that since her younger sibling would be going camp, the sole soul she regularly conversed with, she too could use a little freedom and more importantly some similarly aged company. Persuaded by a soft tone compromise allowing her to bring the laptop her father bought her, a sticker pasted on the front cover displaying her full name, plus a few books from the mother’s library that were quite advanced for her age. Though even with those commodities, her uncertainty lead to inner-anxiety being suddenly cast out like a fishing lure ready to attract piranhas to devour her whole. Learning to let herself relax within a week and be content for the remaining weeks she had left, trying not to think about missing her brother too much...
Izzy concentrated on the progress bar slowly inching closer to completion, noticing another boy’s whistling and heading back to their cabins before looking up at the darkness looming over her. The calm before the storm caused her to sit up straight with legs slightly spread out, waiting — just — long — enough... Standing up to close and pack her laptop in her backpack resting by the tree. Hearing the others calling out, she rushed to catch up with the rest of them. Discovering today was no ordinary day as a blinding beam streaked across the sky and a strange device materialized in matter of moments in-between her cupped palms. She gawked at the gadget and blinked in thought.
“What’s this? Some type of miniature remote digital apparatus?” Taking notice of the peculiar symbols that she stroked with her thumbs. “This doesn’t appear to resemble any computer code that I’ve ever seen...” Her ears struck with the discordant screech of static coming from the laptop, she quickly pulled it out and opened it up seeing the screen began to warp. “Huh? A virus?” She held down the power and tried forcing a shutdown, but realized she was being encompassed in a golden glow. The ethereal caressing of her senses matched the heavenly aesthetic, including her ascension that felt like it was guiding her toward the vast colored spectrum above with the rest of the group. She held on tightly to that laptop as everything disappeared in a flash, followed by an abrupt transition that altered the entire landscape. A bewildering mystery that created clarity about one thing; this was definitely an adventure. Wondering if she was simply dreaming as every tenuous grasp at a rational explanation failed her mind. Her first thought softly escaping her lips...
“Asombroso...”
Current Status: Relaxed
The burning star’s golden shine bathed the lucid lake in radiance, sharing its splendor with all that frolic happily underneath its reach. Peaceful summer mating melodies chirped by sparrows atop the American elm where Izzy Ivanowski shaded, combined with a dark hat that gave her cat ears and goggles that made her an exception to the rule. Unlike the birds seeking a profound partnership, she was undergoing an analysis under careful consideration. A mere split-second decision could drastically alter her reality and those that surrounded her. She leaned in while staring intensely at the rippling water as she sat like a pretzel with the tenting fingers tapping...nah, drowning around the other kids wouldn’t prove to be a valuable use of her time. Immediately hopping up and crouched like a frog, then leaping forward with her elbows and knees sticking the landing as she lied on her stomach. Her feet swaying through the air gently as the breeze hitting the branches. Nature for her was an inquisitive focus on a pitch-black screen, a meaningless empty void until controlled by its user by pushing the power button. Izzy's eyes lit up like the laptop, soon reflecting on her reflected image viewing her long-messy hair as she casually brushed it back. Double clicking on her “Projects” folder in the top-right corner and opening the only file inside it, the program showered with binary in yellow text despite the lack of clouds on the horizon. Her fingers danced upon the keyboard, rocking her head to the satisfying rhythm of clicks. She considered it like a pianist playing in a concerto, treating every line of code like an array of notes needed to be perfected. Perhaps, unbeknownst to an outsider’s likely perspective of spotting a hyperactive oddball whose self-isolated herself from socializing and instead choose to fiddle with technology, they’d never imagine this was her state of euphoria, probably because of her emotionless expression.
It was still unclear whether this an opportunity for adventure, or just a punishment for her purposely sporadic misbehavior. But her adoptive parents determined that since her younger sibling would be going camp, the sole soul she regularly conversed with, she too could use a little freedom and more importantly some similarly aged company. Persuaded by a soft tone compromise allowing her to bring the laptop her father bought her, a sticker pasted on the front cover displaying her full name, plus a few books from the mother’s library that were quite advanced for her age. Though even with those commodities, her uncertainty lead to inner-anxiety being suddenly cast out like a fishing lure ready to attract piranhas to devour her whole. Learning to let herself relax within a week and be content for the remaining weeks she had left, trying not to think about missing her brother too much...
Izzy concentrated on the progress bar slowly inching closer to completion, noticing another boy’s whistling and heading back to their cabins before looking up at the darkness looming over her. The calm before the storm caused her to sit up straight with legs slightly spread out, waiting — just — long — enough... Standing up to close and pack her laptop in her backpack resting by the tree. Hearing the others calling out, she rushed to catch up with the rest of them. Discovering today was no ordinary day as a blinding beam streaked across the sky and a strange device materialized in matter of moments in-between her cupped palms. She gawked at the gadget and blinked in thought.
“What’s this? Some type of miniature remote digital apparatus?” Taking notice of the peculiar symbols that she stroked with her thumbs. “This doesn’t appear to resemble any computer code that I’ve ever seen...” Her ears struck with the discordant screech of static coming from the laptop, she quickly pulled it out and opened it up seeing the screen began to warp. “Huh? A virus?” She held down the power and tried forcing a shutdown, but realized she was being encompassed in a golden glow. The ethereal caressing of her senses matched the heavenly aesthetic, including her ascension that felt like it was guiding her toward the vast colored spectrum above with the rest of the group. She held on tightly to that laptop as everything disappeared in a flash, followed by an abrupt transition that altered the entire landscape. A bewildering mystery that created clarity about one thing; this was definitely an adventure. Wondering if she was simply dreaming as every tenuous grasp at a rational explanation failed her mind. Her first thought softly escaping her lips...
“Asombroso...”
roleplayerguild.com/topics/91883-enig…
(Music)
Watching outside, right beside his window, his gloved left hand pressed against the glass. Head gently leaning forward trying to closely listen to the gentle sound of rain, just for the smallest moment to terminate his restless thoughts and keep himself peaceful even if only for a brief couple of minutes. Letting out a quiet sigh, knowing nothing could tame what's inside his head. He turned on all the lights in his room attempting to maybe brighten his mood but it remained perfectly darkened like the clouds currently devouring the skies.
Terrence lifted his arm, casually turning his head towards his television pressing the on button from the remote he was holding in his right, making absolutely sure he was pointing it straight toward it, knowing how finicky it was. Only to immediately start flipping through the channels, not possibly being able to tell what was even on, while simultaneously turning the volume up, higher and higher reaching deafening loud levels before turning the entire thing off. As he tossed his remote, flying into the air landing softly into the couch in his living room where he stood. Terrence started to mildly scratching the back of his neck, breathing up deeply through his nose letting out a long exhaled breathe. Another unsuccessful attempt to drown out what seemed to be his ocean of memories that kept pushing themselves forward into his mind, despite his strong desires to refrain recalling his past. They remained persistently eating away at his conscience making it so that was all that could be focused on. The voices were only getting louder every passing day. It was driving him insane.
“Nothing is working, but why am I even slightly surprised anymore. Seriously, when was the last time...” Terrance started to speak aloud rubbing his temples with his fingers, feeling like his was getting a migraine before slamming his fist into his window.
“I COULD GET ANY PEACE OF MIND!?” Terrence screamed out in exasperation, while waiting in silence like he expected something to answer back, only to met with never ending silence just standing there, almost like a statue barely making any movements. Looking around his large mostly empty house with suspicious eyes, as he could of sworn he heard a voice whispering nearby. Through realizing there was no intruder, not a single soul was here besides him. That didn't change his assumption that something omnipotent and malevolent was watching and torturing him.
“What has even become of everything I once lived for...Gone away, vanished right before my eyes...” Terrence reflected inside his head. Walking through his living room, stepping and moving slowly forward while looking down at the ground. Turning himself around being cautious and walking back towards the window staring at his reflection, seeing the monstrous manticore staring back at him.
“No matter how determined I am keeping this demon subdued, it always manages to take control.” Terrence conceded as he began to recall his recent collection of experiments.
As he was standing in the cold, harsh bitter winds blowing, able to feel it even going through his thick blanket of fur, wings spread out looking up at the full moon in the sky then far down into the ground, as he happened to be of the top of the tallest building's he could find, his tail twisted through the air as Terrance calculated several things in his mind as he inched himself closer to the edge, clutching the edge with his claws, breathing calmly for a moment with his eyes closed.
Using his strength to suddenly lift his entire body up in the air, standing solely on his front paws, leaning forward. Throwing himself off the building, purposefully plummeting downward to the ground, eyes still closed waiting until he heard the thunderous rumbling of the ground, as he gently opened his eyes. He looked up, he had already landed on the ground, pulling himself on the crater he made when he made contact, staring at the cracks.
“After third jump, seems to have repressed my pain receptors making me not even feel pain after colliding into the ground...however I also seem to be building strength as I was able to pull myself of the crater without any difficultly this time, it almost seems like something is protecting me from death or suffering pain. Making me unable to inflict pain upon myself. Has only increased endurance significantly since several days ago.” Terrance examined feeling himself with his paws and tail feeling nothing broken or out of place.
Making sure his wings were still functioning starting flying straight up quickly, heading back home to prepare the next experiment of the night before getting some rest, staying up nearly forty-eight hours was starting to effect how well he was able to fly. As he observed the entire city flying above it, it always looked like he was surrounded by nothing he could recognize despite living there for so long, he still couldn't quite get used to that his ordinary life and the world had changed as dramatically as his own body had.
“I promised myself to overcome this beast. That I will never let myself become this monster but until I find someway to achieve that goal. Cure myself of this damned curse. I will learn to survive in this world, by any means necessary...” Terrence told himself, as his memory of that moment suddenly stopped.
As he opened his eyes still seeing the monster looking back at him, as he tried to change himself back clenching his paws tightly. Focusing as he rather quickly changes back to human. Standing up from the ground, looking down at his hands.
“Yet, I haven't found anything. I haven't progressed in trying to find some kind of cure. I've already tried creating several dozens of different things. Nothing is working...it doesn't,” Terrence muttered to himself struggling to speak starting to feel a lump in his throat, immediately wiping a tear coming down his cheek, he sniffled slightly as he stopped to clear his throat stopping himself from finishing his sentence refusing to even acknowledge that he was feeling hopeless. He wandered into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator, pulling out one of the beers Mason had been drinking.
Opening the tab and started to chug it down, some of it going down his lips as he drank down the entire can, before gently collapsing into his kitchen chair setting the empty can of beer upright on the table, wiping whatever missed his mouth on his sleeve. As Terrance reached for his book, before being interrupted once again by hearing something pounding upon his door. Quickly getting up and approaching his front door, unlocking his door curiously opening his door to discover who was on the other side.
(Music)
“What the fuck?” Shouted in a deep voice, knowing immediately he had made a grave mistake in his error of judgment opening the door without even thinking standing his front of his doorstep glaring his glowing green eyes directly at him. Being one of the several patients he had been seeing without revealing his human appearance. He was a behemoth like creature looking like he was about to impale him through the chest if he wasn't given a satisfactory explanation in the next couple of seconds.
Wasting no time to change himself into his manticore form once again, showing him exactly his true identity at least to keep him remaining as calm as possible knowing just how quickly on edge he could become, it seemed to work despite showing a look of utter disgust, clearly finding the very thing offensive. Quickly storming into his place with a slight limp and heading straight for his lab seemingly unconcerned for permission to continue. Terrence could see him leaving behind a nearly flowing trail of blood as his right side was bleeding profusely and glowing blue though he didn't need his power to understand the desperate situation his patient was in.
“Was that some kind of disguise? It looked repulsive, I was a moment away from peeling the flesh from your bones. Fucking humans disgust me. They would all be better off dead. That rebellion did this to me...I was able to escape but they hit my weak spot, I need to be fixed right away before I lose any more blood!” The behemoth states quickly sounding very demanding showing his urgency in his tone of voice. He clearly feared for his life. Terrence following behind unable to avoid stepping into his blood walking to the lab, hiding his reaction to the words he was saying, thinking to himself.
“Briefly examining patient, looks like he's on death's doorstep. Could probably use the healing gel with a mixture of various things to give him a much higher change of survival, but even then there is no exact guarantee, I think even it is fully aware of how desperate the situation is.” Terrence thought to himself as the creature bleed. Impulsively reacting like a doctor in any life or death scenario going to his table and grabbing everything he needed to attempt to safe it's life. But a little devil of an idea crossed his mind. As he turned around glaring down at the creature, who collapsed on his non wounded side, after struggling to stand upright.
“You weren't followed were you? You've been keeping to yourself that you see me as a patient correct?” Terrence asked pretending it was for confirmation sake as the creature nodded his head in response letting out heavy loud rapid breaths.
“Yes dammit, not a single individual even knows I see you. And no I wasn't followed either. Now hurry up and fix me, I'm not dying before unleashing my hell against the humans once again, I have been killing them since I stormed through their villages, and I plan and killing as many more as possible.” The behemoth angrily responded as everything he was saying seemed to slowly filling his mind, swarming like pests.
He could feel his skin crawling and himself become blind with anger, recalling the first time he saw his dead siblings laying there. They had been skinned, his mind twisted into thinking meticulously about those words the behemoth said. Peeling the very flesh off their bones...how many creatures would do such a thing to a human, to kill them? Was it merely a coincidence? No, his mind told him this was finally the time.
Mason, his old friend wanted him to become a part of the rebellion. The time to get his ever growing desire for revenge was now, he glared down at the behemoth's ugly face, he set all of items back onto the table. His tail twitching in the air while approaching him reaching up with his paw clutching on of its horns holding it tightly in his grip.
“What the hell are you-” The behemoth questioned looking at the doctor's blank emotionless stare as he could feel the grip slowly crushing his horn, unable to fully realize what happened until Terrence violently ripped one horns out of his head and violently stabbing it through his front right leg he tried to raise upwards in an attempt to stop his attack, as it growled but that was literally all it could even do. Terrance shoving his claws into the open wound and ripping through him only making the wound larger spewing blood all over his arms.
“You bastard...” Behemoth snarled weakly while Terrence as the behemoth was already laying in a pool of its own blood. Letting out a painful moaning, unable to stand up it legs becoming heavy and numb. Terrence raised his other claw and sank it right through the behemoths throats digging them deeper as it glares straight into the behemoths desperate and utterly confused eyes.
“Everything you say, your very existence kills me on the inside. I'm only returning the favor.” Terrence says as he smirks ever so slightly, exposing his fangs, only watching the eyes of the creature slowly faded and became hollow and dark, the body became totally limp. Terrence pulls out his claws stained with blood and walks casually back over to his table and walks over to him.
“I've been mixing this for quite a well, Been dying to test it out properly.” Terrence comments aloud pouring some of the large container of it on top of the behemoth as it starts melting the dissolving the body completely, watching as he poured it carefully as the entire body slowly disintegrated into nothing. Before putting the now empty container on the table. Changing himself to a human still drenched from head to toe in blood, putting his fingers on his neck to check his pulse, he could feel his adrenaline pumping and his heart racing.
“Patient terminated 9:37 pm...” Terrence muttered to himself calmly looking up at the clock to check the time going over the sink to begin washing his blood soaked hands.
“Looks like I some cleaning up to do before I can get any reading done.” He sighed.
(Music)
In the middle of washing his hands, he just now stopped with the abrupt realization of what he had just done, like he snapped out of a violent breakdown. The guilt and disgust he didn't have before came flowing into his head asking himself, Did he really just kill someone unable to even fight back in cold blood? Tears started swelling his eyes, his hands started to shake wildly.
“What have I done...” Terrence questioned to himself in disbelief that he just took the life of one his own patients, the very principals and morals he stood for. His very promise to not become the monster, he wasn't so sure that was a promise he could keep any longer, but who was he kidding despite every person he ever told that he would never break a promise his memories were a painful reminder of exactly how naive he was to make such an impossible statement. The dead corpses of all his siblings and friends he found them all, the ones he promised to keep safe from the dangers of the world. He already failed everyone else, now he even failed to keep the promise he made to himself.
But stopped with a rush of worry that if anyone came through his doors, they'd discover all the blood everywhere, immediately deciding he needed to clean. Beginning to immediately grabbing a mop bucket and mop and starting frantically washing every trace of blood clean from his entire laboratory and hallway leading all the way to the doorway, without taking a break until at least an hour had passed, going straight in his bathroom ignoring that it had been completely destroyed throwing all clothes on the ground and starting washing himself. Desperately trying the scrub the very sin off of his hands, washing his body and hair several times over. As the hot water washed the blood down the drain. After finishing, not even bother drying himself off throwing his clothes hamper and put on identical set of clothes, having his conscience already eating at him.
“Fine...if I'm going to become a murderous beast I'll finish this right now.” He without second thought quickly ran to the table where he kept his tools and grabbed a sharp scalpel tightly in left hand and went to jam it right through his throat, but suddenly right hand instantly grabbed his hand stopping himself as the blade was right up to his throat. His grip was tight and wouldn't let his other hand budge an inch like his survival instinct kicked in. Struggling for around a minute. Before giving in, slamming his hand back on the table letting go the scalpel, as he growled out in frustration. Starting to breathe in and out to calm himself down but it seemed to only get him more worked up. Starting pacing back and forth clutching his head and starting quietly cursing himself.
“No, I can't take a coward's way out. I've always wanted every monster just to leave...the only way be useful to the rebellion is if I fight back, set this town ablaze and watch the world burn beneath me...” He explained to himself while equally feeling justified and sick with his actions, clutching his fists still crying as he rushed over to his pile of book on the other side of the room as he started violently smashing through the book as they tumbled over as he knocking more than half of them all across the floor before angrily smashing the middle of the table literally breaking the table in half as he reminded that his monstrous strength clearly wasn't solely granted to him as a manticore.
“WHY DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS!?” Terrence screamed out.
“WHY DID ALL OF THEM HAVE TO DIE? WHY CAN'T THEY COME BACK!?” Terrence falling to his knees, sobbing and smashed his fists into the ground.
“I...I just want them back. Please...I can't do this alone anymore.” Terrence cried out weakly unable to scream anymore.
“I can't do this alone...I can't do this alone...I can't do this alone.” Terrence repeated clutching his head being completely hysterical, only with a single thought in his mind becoming overwhelming clear.
“I WILL MAKE THEM ALL PAY FOR THIS!” Terrence letting out one final roar.
(Music)
Watching outside, right beside his window, his gloved left hand pressed against the glass. Head gently leaning forward trying to closely listen to the gentle sound of rain, just for the smallest moment to terminate his restless thoughts and keep himself peaceful even if only for a brief couple of minutes. Letting out a quiet sigh, knowing nothing could tame what's inside his head. He turned on all the lights in his room attempting to maybe brighten his mood but it remained perfectly darkened like the clouds currently devouring the skies.
Terrence lifted his arm, casually turning his head towards his television pressing the on button from the remote he was holding in his right, making absolutely sure he was pointing it straight toward it, knowing how finicky it was. Only to immediately start flipping through the channels, not possibly being able to tell what was even on, while simultaneously turning the volume up, higher and higher reaching deafening loud levels before turning the entire thing off. As he tossed his remote, flying into the air landing softly into the couch in his living room where he stood. Terrence started to mildly scratching the back of his neck, breathing up deeply through his nose letting out a long exhaled breathe. Another unsuccessful attempt to drown out what seemed to be his ocean of memories that kept pushing themselves forward into his mind, despite his strong desires to refrain recalling his past. They remained persistently eating away at his conscience making it so that was all that could be focused on. The voices were only getting louder every passing day. It was driving him insane.
“Nothing is working, but why am I even slightly surprised anymore. Seriously, when was the last time...” Terrance started to speak aloud rubbing his temples with his fingers, feeling like his was getting a migraine before slamming his fist into his window.
“I COULD GET ANY PEACE OF MIND!?” Terrence screamed out in exasperation, while waiting in silence like he expected something to answer back, only to met with never ending silence just standing there, almost like a statue barely making any movements. Looking around his large mostly empty house with suspicious eyes, as he could of sworn he heard a voice whispering nearby. Through realizing there was no intruder, not a single soul was here besides him. That didn't change his assumption that something omnipotent and malevolent was watching and torturing him.
“What has even become of everything I once lived for...Gone away, vanished right before my eyes...” Terrence reflected inside his head. Walking through his living room, stepping and moving slowly forward while looking down at the ground. Turning himself around being cautious and walking back towards the window staring at his reflection, seeing the monstrous manticore staring back at him.
“No matter how determined I am keeping this demon subdued, it always manages to take control.” Terrence conceded as he began to recall his recent collection of experiments.
As he was standing in the cold, harsh bitter winds blowing, able to feel it even going through his thick blanket of fur, wings spread out looking up at the full moon in the sky then far down into the ground, as he happened to be of the top of the tallest building's he could find, his tail twisted through the air as Terrance calculated several things in his mind as he inched himself closer to the edge, clutching the edge with his claws, breathing calmly for a moment with his eyes closed.
Using his strength to suddenly lift his entire body up in the air, standing solely on his front paws, leaning forward. Throwing himself off the building, purposefully plummeting downward to the ground, eyes still closed waiting until he heard the thunderous rumbling of the ground, as he gently opened his eyes. He looked up, he had already landed on the ground, pulling himself on the crater he made when he made contact, staring at the cracks.
“After third jump, seems to have repressed my pain receptors making me not even feel pain after colliding into the ground...however I also seem to be building strength as I was able to pull myself of the crater without any difficultly this time, it almost seems like something is protecting me from death or suffering pain. Making me unable to inflict pain upon myself. Has only increased endurance significantly since several days ago.” Terrance examined feeling himself with his paws and tail feeling nothing broken or out of place.
Making sure his wings were still functioning starting flying straight up quickly, heading back home to prepare the next experiment of the night before getting some rest, staying up nearly forty-eight hours was starting to effect how well he was able to fly. As he observed the entire city flying above it, it always looked like he was surrounded by nothing he could recognize despite living there for so long, he still couldn't quite get used to that his ordinary life and the world had changed as dramatically as his own body had.
“I promised myself to overcome this beast. That I will never let myself become this monster but until I find someway to achieve that goal. Cure myself of this damned curse. I will learn to survive in this world, by any means necessary...” Terrence told himself, as his memory of that moment suddenly stopped.
As he opened his eyes still seeing the monster looking back at him, as he tried to change himself back clenching his paws tightly. Focusing as he rather quickly changes back to human. Standing up from the ground, looking down at his hands.
“Yet, I haven't found anything. I haven't progressed in trying to find some kind of cure. I've already tried creating several dozens of different things. Nothing is working...it doesn't,” Terrence muttered to himself struggling to speak starting to feel a lump in his throat, immediately wiping a tear coming down his cheek, he sniffled slightly as he stopped to clear his throat stopping himself from finishing his sentence refusing to even acknowledge that he was feeling hopeless. He wandered into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator, pulling out one of the beers Mason had been drinking.
Opening the tab and started to chug it down, some of it going down his lips as he drank down the entire can, before gently collapsing into his kitchen chair setting the empty can of beer upright on the table, wiping whatever missed his mouth on his sleeve. As Terrance reached for his book, before being interrupted once again by hearing something pounding upon his door. Quickly getting up and approaching his front door, unlocking his door curiously opening his door to discover who was on the other side.
(Music)
“What the fuck?” Shouted in a deep voice, knowing immediately he had made a grave mistake in his error of judgment opening the door without even thinking standing his front of his doorstep glaring his glowing green eyes directly at him. Being one of the several patients he had been seeing without revealing his human appearance. He was a behemoth like creature looking like he was about to impale him through the chest if he wasn't given a satisfactory explanation in the next couple of seconds.
Wasting no time to change himself into his manticore form once again, showing him exactly his true identity at least to keep him remaining as calm as possible knowing just how quickly on edge he could become, it seemed to work despite showing a look of utter disgust, clearly finding the very thing offensive. Quickly storming into his place with a slight limp and heading straight for his lab seemingly unconcerned for permission to continue. Terrence could see him leaving behind a nearly flowing trail of blood as his right side was bleeding profusely and glowing blue though he didn't need his power to understand the desperate situation his patient was in.
“Was that some kind of disguise? It looked repulsive, I was a moment away from peeling the flesh from your bones. Fucking humans disgust me. They would all be better off dead. That rebellion did this to me...I was able to escape but they hit my weak spot, I need to be fixed right away before I lose any more blood!” The behemoth states quickly sounding very demanding showing his urgency in his tone of voice. He clearly feared for his life. Terrence following behind unable to avoid stepping into his blood walking to the lab, hiding his reaction to the words he was saying, thinking to himself.
“Briefly examining patient, looks like he's on death's doorstep. Could probably use the healing gel with a mixture of various things to give him a much higher change of survival, but even then there is no exact guarantee, I think even it is fully aware of how desperate the situation is.” Terrence thought to himself as the creature bleed. Impulsively reacting like a doctor in any life or death scenario going to his table and grabbing everything he needed to attempt to safe it's life. But a little devil of an idea crossed his mind. As he turned around glaring down at the creature, who collapsed on his non wounded side, after struggling to stand upright.
“You weren't followed were you? You've been keeping to yourself that you see me as a patient correct?” Terrence asked pretending it was for confirmation sake as the creature nodded his head in response letting out heavy loud rapid breaths.
“Yes dammit, not a single individual even knows I see you. And no I wasn't followed either. Now hurry up and fix me, I'm not dying before unleashing my hell against the humans once again, I have been killing them since I stormed through their villages, and I plan and killing as many more as possible.” The behemoth angrily responded as everything he was saying seemed to slowly filling his mind, swarming like pests.
He could feel his skin crawling and himself become blind with anger, recalling the first time he saw his dead siblings laying there. They had been skinned, his mind twisted into thinking meticulously about those words the behemoth said. Peeling the very flesh off their bones...how many creatures would do such a thing to a human, to kill them? Was it merely a coincidence? No, his mind told him this was finally the time.
Mason, his old friend wanted him to become a part of the rebellion. The time to get his ever growing desire for revenge was now, he glared down at the behemoth's ugly face, he set all of items back onto the table. His tail twitching in the air while approaching him reaching up with his paw clutching on of its horns holding it tightly in his grip.
“What the hell are you-” The behemoth questioned looking at the doctor's blank emotionless stare as he could feel the grip slowly crushing his horn, unable to fully realize what happened until Terrence violently ripped one horns out of his head and violently stabbing it through his front right leg he tried to raise upwards in an attempt to stop his attack, as it growled but that was literally all it could even do. Terrance shoving his claws into the open wound and ripping through him only making the wound larger spewing blood all over his arms.
“You bastard...” Behemoth snarled weakly while Terrence as the behemoth was already laying in a pool of its own blood. Letting out a painful moaning, unable to stand up it legs becoming heavy and numb. Terrence raised his other claw and sank it right through the behemoths throats digging them deeper as it glares straight into the behemoths desperate and utterly confused eyes.
“Everything you say, your very existence kills me on the inside. I'm only returning the favor.” Terrence says as he smirks ever so slightly, exposing his fangs, only watching the eyes of the creature slowly faded and became hollow and dark, the body became totally limp. Terrence pulls out his claws stained with blood and walks casually back over to his table and walks over to him.
“I've been mixing this for quite a well, Been dying to test it out properly.” Terrence comments aloud pouring some of the large container of it on top of the behemoth as it starts melting the dissolving the body completely, watching as he poured it carefully as the entire body slowly disintegrated into nothing. Before putting the now empty container on the table. Changing himself to a human still drenched from head to toe in blood, putting his fingers on his neck to check his pulse, he could feel his adrenaline pumping and his heart racing.
“Patient terminated 9:37 pm...” Terrence muttered to himself calmly looking up at the clock to check the time going over the sink to begin washing his blood soaked hands.
“Looks like I some cleaning up to do before I can get any reading done.” He sighed.
(Music)
In the middle of washing his hands, he just now stopped with the abrupt realization of what he had just done, like he snapped out of a violent breakdown. The guilt and disgust he didn't have before came flowing into his head asking himself, Did he really just kill someone unable to even fight back in cold blood? Tears started swelling his eyes, his hands started to shake wildly.
“What have I done...” Terrence questioned to himself in disbelief that he just took the life of one his own patients, the very principals and morals he stood for. His very promise to not become the monster, he wasn't so sure that was a promise he could keep any longer, but who was he kidding despite every person he ever told that he would never break a promise his memories were a painful reminder of exactly how naive he was to make such an impossible statement. The dead corpses of all his siblings and friends he found them all, the ones he promised to keep safe from the dangers of the world. He already failed everyone else, now he even failed to keep the promise he made to himself.
But stopped with a rush of worry that if anyone came through his doors, they'd discover all the blood everywhere, immediately deciding he needed to clean. Beginning to immediately grabbing a mop bucket and mop and starting frantically washing every trace of blood clean from his entire laboratory and hallway leading all the way to the doorway, without taking a break until at least an hour had passed, going straight in his bathroom ignoring that it had been completely destroyed throwing all clothes on the ground and starting washing himself. Desperately trying the scrub the very sin off of his hands, washing his body and hair several times over. As the hot water washed the blood down the drain. After finishing, not even bother drying himself off throwing his clothes hamper and put on identical set of clothes, having his conscience already eating at him.
“Fine...if I'm going to become a murderous beast I'll finish this right now.” He without second thought quickly ran to the table where he kept his tools and grabbed a sharp scalpel tightly in left hand and went to jam it right through his throat, but suddenly right hand instantly grabbed his hand stopping himself as the blade was right up to his throat. His grip was tight and wouldn't let his other hand budge an inch like his survival instinct kicked in. Struggling for around a minute. Before giving in, slamming his hand back on the table letting go the scalpel, as he growled out in frustration. Starting to breathe in and out to calm himself down but it seemed to only get him more worked up. Starting pacing back and forth clutching his head and starting quietly cursing himself.
“No, I can't take a coward's way out. I've always wanted every monster just to leave...the only way be useful to the rebellion is if I fight back, set this town ablaze and watch the world burn beneath me...” He explained to himself while equally feeling justified and sick with his actions, clutching his fists still crying as he rushed over to his pile of book on the other side of the room as he started violently smashing through the book as they tumbled over as he knocking more than half of them all across the floor before angrily smashing the middle of the table literally breaking the table in half as he reminded that his monstrous strength clearly wasn't solely granted to him as a manticore.
“WHY DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS!?” Terrence screamed out.
“WHY DID ALL OF THEM HAVE TO DIE? WHY CAN'T THEY COME BACK!?” Terrence falling to his knees, sobbing and smashed his fists into the ground.
“I...I just want them back. Please...I can't do this alone anymore.” Terrence cried out weakly unable to scream anymore.
“I can't do this alone...I can't do this alone...I can't do this alone.” Terrence repeated clutching his head being completely hysterical, only with a single thought in his mind becoming overwhelming clear.
“I WILL MAKE THEM ALL PAY FOR THIS!” Terrence letting out one final roar.
(More examples may be given in future!)
roleplayerguild.com/topics/172898-pri…
The radiant glow of her gaze peering from the opened apartment window; a passionate spark that would someday set this world ablaze. Looking out at the landscape dense with skyscrapers, all clamoring for its denizens’ attention. Buildings adorned with a chromatic spectrum of lights from abundant advertisement billboards, surrounding the cavalcades parading through the grungy streets still dampened from yesterday's storm. A mirror universe showing a collage of reflections below people's feet splashing in the puddles. It was easy to get caught up in the beautiful lies and let your mind wander...
These people weren't mere strangers to her. They were blobs of gray mortality, solely concerned for their own well-being. Clustered until their individual presence bleeds into obscurity becoming only noise pollution. How else does one stomach the grotesque daily displays of debauchery? Layers of sin smothered the masses like a thick blanket of darkness that strangled acts of generosity with a vice-like grip. Those who dare preach for compassion would choke from the fragrance of their vomit before any Samaritan could practice it. Night City Downtown Sector A2; otherwise known as The Northside District. A bloodthirsty creature created from their own volition, designed to enrapture its victims while swallowing them whole...
A zephyr blew into the room, leaving a faint chill that sent a shiver down her spine. The dropping temperature being nature's forewarning forecast of rain. Her internal scattered thoughts abruptly halted by words drenched in playful sarcasm.
"You're really sexy when you're philosophizing..."
Turning to address her bare-chested boyfriend sprawled across the bed. His scrawny frame made him look like a skeleton suited in flesh. His bottom-half covered in a pristine white comforter. She sauntered up to the queen-sized mattress, pulling her red shirt off and tossing it beside the overly neat pile of men clothes on the floor. Pressing her right palm against the soft foam, bending over and caressing the left side of his face. Exchanging smiles that pierced their hearts, giving each other looks of unbridled affection.
"And you're obnoxious when you're patronizing me," Madeleine responded pointing at his blackened right eye. "That smart mouth of yours is what gave you that shiner-" her teasing trying to stifle her quivering voice, "...those guys could have killed you."
"Madeleine…" His tone changed to become serious and reassuring. Motioning with his fingers to grab his hands since both were restrained to the bedposts. Resting their palms together, he gently squeezed and held her hand.
"I already told you that I have someone handling it. You'll never see those braying jackasses again. I promise you." She laid down and curled up close, leaning her forehead on his upper-chest feeling his pounding heart. Her arms wrapped around him, listening silently. "My buddy will have everything settled by midnight tomorrow…"
"Why couldn't it be tonight?" She interrupted with a murmur.
"Good things come to those who wait," He replied with a chuckle, "We'll pack up our stuff and finally escape this wretched place. It'll be the new life-with child that you-we always wanted."
The warmth of the bed, his body and candor were equally comforting to her. She smiled looking up at him, but his eyes seemed more distressed from what was behind her. She recalled leaving the window open-did they return to finish the job?! She sprang up from the bed, but noticed nothing. Letting out a quick breath, her focus shifted toward the nightstand and realized a can of Smash was foaming over and leaking out. Taking every ounce of self-restraint not to moan aloud, she stood up and picked up the can, turning around with a sultry smile.
"Thirsty? Open wide." Her demand was met with a grin as he opened his mouth, she started pouring the yellow foamy beverage in his gullet. Drinking the liquid as he closed his eyes, as it splashed on his lips. Stopping once his body shivered from her pouring some onto his chest. She laughed. He merely looked disappointed.
"Aw, don't waste that-it was the last can." He quasi-complained, too aroused to actually care.
"There, you smell like gasoline now." She quipped while heading toward the window, promptly shutting and locking it, as cars screeched past. "I'm going to go wash my hair, I'll be back." She said heading into the adjacent wet room.
"What-seriously? Take these off me then…" Attempting to sit up against the headboard, but failing to budge.
"Good things come to those who wait." She teased, not in his view as the rest of her clothes were thrown off. He groaned in response and muttered under his breath as the shower turned on.
"I think you enjoy dominating, a little too much..." He cracked a smile in thought, "Never thought I'd love someone so complicated."
Mere minutes passed as multiple convertibles parked in the streets, with several men getting out of their cars. Meanwhile; neither were the wiser as she couldn't stop herself from giggling, hearing her boyfriend's purposefully bad singing. Crash! A sound of shattered glass and her boyfriend shouting at her, seeing a molotov cocktail landing beside his bed.
"Madeline!" A sudden eruption of intense flames, the entire bed was burning up in a matter of seconds, as black smoke filled the place. Sounds of screaming in his futile struggle, pulling on the straps, feeling the fire searing his skin. She rushed out of the shower, immediately coughing profusely at the fumes, hands covering her mouth and nose. The fire alarm began wailing into her eardrums.
"Ethan!" She screamed in horror, stepping forth as the second projectile was hurled into the window. Viewing a fiery explosion bursting outside, her following scream was deafening and his fell silent. A harrowing thought that her degenerate lifestyle, contrasted with her youth spent at church finally bound their souls to Hell. But she’d soon learn it was naive to believe her suffering had ended, for true torment is eternal. Madeline lost consciousness before the demons broke through the front door, following orders from the devil that had other plans. The perpetrators fled the area long before the sirens could be heard blaring from a distance. By the time it was extinguished, their apartment had been reduced to ashes...
A lycanthrope stalked their target in silence. Her reddish fur lit by the sunlight peeking from windows. The helmet she wore, recorded the graffiti plastered all around, serving a bleak reminder that this decrepit building once served a purpose. She crept through the abandoned warehouse, dodging any needles or sharp objects littering the floor that could be walked on with her bare paws. Entering a stretch of hallway with nothing but towering pillars connected to the ceiling. She didn’t need heightened senses to catch a strong whiff of trash getting closer, turning the corner to see a dead-end with a large pile of garbage that smelled like urine. She observed the faint smoldering of a stray cigarette that had recently been smoked among the assortment. Holding her breath and digging her claws through the bags, finding something else too new and wholly out of place; a cybernetic disk drive. Taking the piece of evidence whilst pulling out one of her M970 Beretta’s from the holster strapped to her hip, hearing sounds of someone approaching from behind. Swiftly facing the assailant positioned fifteen feet from her, both aiming their firearms at each other. A baseball cap poorly masking his identity. His face looked young, with patchy stubble growing underneath his chin. Seeing the artificial glow of his eyes, as the dark shades slid to the edge of his long nose.
“Drop it. I’m not looking to shed blood today. Especially, not from some amateur thug foolhardy enough to aim their gun at a beast with the safety on.” Keeping a steady posture, with her index-finger still hovering over the trigger, watching as the man visibly trembled, dropping the gun and raising his hands above his head. She motioned with her firearm for him to turn.
“Please-I have family…” He pleaded complying to her command. She lunged forward, gripping his shoulder tightly and sticking the Beretta in his back.
“Another drawback of cheap labor, and accepting under-the-table work.” She thought before speaking in a cold tone. “Keep quiet and move, and you’ll live.” An extra annoyance distracting her from finishing the job. She guided him outside into an fenced off alleyway, with only one way out. She shoved him away, causing him to stumble forth and freeze. She sighed and lowered her gun, shoving it into her holster. She peered up at the building across the street, waving her left hand up in a deliberate manner.
“T-thank you…” He uttered, his voice cracking.
“Just get out of here-” Cutting her annoyed reply short, alerted as the sound a shot rang out followed by the man suddenly collapsing to the ground. She rushed forward and flipped him over, fingers putting pressure on the copious amount of blood gushing from his neck. She saw the life had already faded from his eyes. Standing up with bloodstained hands, leaving behind a hollow husk, resembling the emptiness she’d feel completing another assignment…
It was hard to admire the scenery with her eyes closed the whole ride home. Forgoing a seatbelt and laying on her side, taking up the entire back-seat, with her muzzle facing the leather, inadvertently inhaling the new car smell. Tuning out the roar of the afternoon, the same honking horns and yelling crowds as everyday. Most importantly, managing to drown out the drivers fast talk blathering. Pet dogs couldn’t drive; one of many established rules that were strictly followed, with certain punishment for those that break them. Basically forcing her into having a partner with every Reaper job, usually someone as slick a paralyzed goat covered in mud, and half as intelligent and attractive. He ordered her to use a bottle of water and a rag to scrub her hands clean and promptly discard them, unless she preferred walking.
The driver stopped at the last red light before reaching their destination, fidgeting with the radio dial, turning it to a weather report. He looked at her in the rear-view mirror and smirked, showing his taxicab yellow teeth. His inflection sounded like he was gargling salt water.
“You know for a freak. Your ass is still fine-” Feeling a swift heavy kick behind his chair in response, body jolting forward. In a moment of thought, she declined to verbalize her disgust, believing judgement was only a block away. He scoffed but kept his mouth shut, gripping the wheel tightly, driving across busy intersection the instant it turned green, barely dodging a collision with a truck slamming their breaks, coming from the passenger's side. Arriving at ‘The Fortress’ upon the agreed time, both knowing their boss would be anxiously waiting for them.
The Fortress; an accurate representation of the proverb of a house that never felt like home. No matter how many times she went through the entrance tunnel that was just narrow enough to give the claustrophobic a panic attack, everything seemed fabricated, a dream-like world that she couldn’t escape from. Personally speaking, it didn’t help that it always too warm for someone covered in fur.
Both walking inside the predominately white room, with various white objects and furnishings, the boss sitting in the middle of the sofa, accented with light blue pillows, the section of wall behind him shelved a large collection of books. He shifted to the right, facing a fake miniature tree, to unleash clouds of cigar smoke from his mouth. She slowly approached the pudgy man, kneeling beside the couch, as her partner set down a suitcase containing the retrieved disk and a sniper rifle and lightly tapped his foot. The boss gave her a pleasant smile, taking her helmet off with his hands and setting it in on the table, gently stroking the wolf head beneath. His affectionate gaze painted a picture of far more innocent soul. She’d compare the atmosphere in his presence closely related to the cigar’s he frequently smoked; toxic, destructive and malignant.
“Scarlett, my beautiful. Did you locate the archives?”
She purposely paused, withholding that answer until her partner interrupted.
“We got it boss. It’s in my case.” He responded, opening the suitcase with an audible click. She merely waited for a perfect moment, watching the boss cross his arms and lean back, his thick eyebrows twitching.
“I asked my pet-” The boss half-chuckled shooting a cold glare matching the tone of his final words, “Not you.” Inhaling and exhaling another cloud of smoke into the air. She nodded her head, responding to his glance at her then stood up and took the drive from the case, sitting on the sofa next to him. Now was the time to reveal the news...
“Master, he killed an unarmed man. A non-threat to our assignment, and he also left the body there.” She said.
“He was armed-” He argued.
“Master, I have the whole thing recorded.” She snapped back, the man looked surprised at the revelation.
“Sir, I didn’t think it would be smart to leave any witness.”
The boss raised his hand ceasing the argument into an awkward silence, he emptied his cigar in an ashtray and tossed a matchbook from his pants pocket onto the table.
“Would you mind re-lighting my cigar?” The boss said holding it out. The man quickly stepped forward, and picked up the match box and lit a match. The men bent over to hold the match up the cigar. The boss slammed the cigar butt straight into the man’s eye, followed by scream of agony as the man clutched his face, casually putting the cigar between in his lips, smoke pouring from his nostrils like a dragon. “You’ve already been paid generously. Get out of my sight.” He spoke dismissively, without a hint of emotion in his voice. The man fled fast as his legs could carry him, leaving the two alone. Was she sick to have enjoyed the entertainment?
“Scarlett, I had another important assignment come in. Everything I’ve prepared you for is required for this retrieval process.” He said getting back into business, pulling out a folder in-between the cushions and pulling out a black dog collar and leash behind the pillows.
“What am I retrieving?” Scarlett asked, looking at the opened folder dropped on the table with papers spreading out. Quickly noticing these weren’t pictures of weapons or technology, her drumbeat heart pounding unconsciously. Hearing her rapid pulse produce a melody in her ears. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
“Capture this man, Lieutenant Davison and bring him to us.” He said with a smile, leaning to whisper into her ear and snapping the collar around her neck, “Your reward will be getting the vengeance you so desperately seek.”
“What?! He found them!?” Her eyes widened, mouth slightly agape rendered speechless.
"That's exactly what I meant." He clarified like an omniscient being that could read her mind, simultaneously attaching the leash and caressing her back with his fingertips. "Every last one of them will be brought to my pet on a silver platter, for you to play with as long as your heart desires-"
She gulped and clenched her hands, hastily replying cutting his sentence off. “Where do I start?”
He chuckled and stood up, playfully yanking the leash. “I like it when my pet is eager to please her master,” He teased, “let’s go to my bedroom. I’ll get you caught up on all the details…”
Her previous happy life had been stolen and enveloped in darkness. Her degrading situation left her stranded without options, becoming a specter of her former self performing horrendously boring tasks she had a knack for. Awake an endless succession of nights, only grasping for the spider’s-thin thread keeping her sanity from breaking. Getting revenge was the defining reason for her existence. This is where everything truly started for Madeline, now called Scarlett. Completing what she would see as her final assignment; finding Police Lieutenant Davison and exchanging him for her achieving her purpose. But having no idea just how difficult it would be to claw up the colossal wall standing in front of her, nor how many others with shared goals would wrench her back down into the abyss...
Prologue
The radiant glow of her gaze peering from the opened apartment window; a passionate spark that would someday set this world ablaze. Looking out at the landscape dense with skyscrapers, all clamoring for its denizens’ attention. Buildings adorned with a chromatic spectrum of lights from abundant advertisement billboards, surrounding the cavalcades parading through the grungy streets still dampened from yesterday's storm. A mirror universe showing a collage of reflections below people's feet splashing in the puddles. It was easy to get caught up in the beautiful lies and let your mind wander...
These people weren't mere strangers to her. They were blobs of gray mortality, solely concerned for their own well-being. Clustered until their individual presence bleeds into obscurity becoming only noise pollution. How else does one stomach the grotesque daily displays of debauchery? Layers of sin smothered the masses like a thick blanket of darkness that strangled acts of generosity with a vice-like grip. Those who dare preach for compassion would choke from the fragrance of their vomit before any Samaritan could practice it. Night City Downtown Sector A2; otherwise known as The Northside District. A bloodthirsty creature created from their own volition, designed to enrapture its victims while swallowing them whole...
A zephyr blew into the room, leaving a faint chill that sent a shiver down her spine. The dropping temperature being nature's forewarning forecast of rain. Her internal scattered thoughts abruptly halted by words drenched in playful sarcasm.
"You're really sexy when you're philosophizing..."
Turning to address her bare-chested boyfriend sprawled across the bed. His scrawny frame made him look like a skeleton suited in flesh. His bottom-half covered in a pristine white comforter. She sauntered up to the queen-sized mattress, pulling her red shirt off and tossing it beside the overly neat pile of men clothes on the floor. Pressing her right palm against the soft foam, bending over and caressing the left side of his face. Exchanging smiles that pierced their hearts, giving each other looks of unbridled affection.
"And you're obnoxious when you're patronizing me," Madeleine responded pointing at his blackened right eye. "That smart mouth of yours is what gave you that shiner-" her teasing trying to stifle her quivering voice, "...those guys could have killed you."
"Madeleine…" His tone changed to become serious and reassuring. Motioning with his fingers to grab his hands since both were restrained to the bedposts. Resting their palms together, he gently squeezed and held her hand.
"I already told you that I have someone handling it. You'll never see those braying jackasses again. I promise you." She laid down and curled up close, leaning her forehead on his upper-chest feeling his pounding heart. Her arms wrapped around him, listening silently. "My buddy will have everything settled by midnight tomorrow…"
"Why couldn't it be tonight?" She interrupted with a murmur.
"Good things come to those who wait," He replied with a chuckle, "We'll pack up our stuff and finally escape this wretched place. It'll be the new life-with child that you-we always wanted."
The warmth of the bed, his body and candor were equally comforting to her. She smiled looking up at him, but his eyes seemed more distressed from what was behind her. She recalled leaving the window open-did they return to finish the job?! She sprang up from the bed, but noticed nothing. Letting out a quick breath, her focus shifted toward the nightstand and realized a can of Smash was foaming over and leaking out. Taking every ounce of self-restraint not to moan aloud, she stood up and picked up the can, turning around with a sultry smile.
"Thirsty? Open wide." Her demand was met with a grin as he opened his mouth, she started pouring the yellow foamy beverage in his gullet. Drinking the liquid as he closed his eyes, as it splashed on his lips. Stopping once his body shivered from her pouring some onto his chest. She laughed. He merely looked disappointed.
"Aw, don't waste that-it was the last can." He quasi-complained, too aroused to actually care.
"There, you smell like gasoline now." She quipped while heading toward the window, promptly shutting and locking it, as cars screeched past. "I'm going to go wash my hair, I'll be back." She said heading into the adjacent wet room.
"What-seriously? Take these off me then…" Attempting to sit up against the headboard, but failing to budge.
"Good things come to those who wait." She teased, not in his view as the rest of her clothes were thrown off. He groaned in response and muttered under his breath as the shower turned on.
"I think you enjoy dominating, a little too much..." He cracked a smile in thought, "Never thought I'd love someone so complicated."
Mere minutes passed as multiple convertibles parked in the streets, with several men getting out of their cars. Meanwhile; neither were the wiser as she couldn't stop herself from giggling, hearing her boyfriend's purposefully bad singing. Crash! A sound of shattered glass and her boyfriend shouting at her, seeing a molotov cocktail landing beside his bed.
"Madeline!" A sudden eruption of intense flames, the entire bed was burning up in a matter of seconds, as black smoke filled the place. Sounds of screaming in his futile struggle, pulling on the straps, feeling the fire searing his skin. She rushed out of the shower, immediately coughing profusely at the fumes, hands covering her mouth and nose. The fire alarm began wailing into her eardrums.
"Ethan!" She screamed in horror, stepping forth as the second projectile was hurled into the window. Viewing a fiery explosion bursting outside, her following scream was deafening and his fell silent. A harrowing thought that her degenerate lifestyle, contrasted with her youth spent at church finally bound their souls to Hell. But she’d soon learn it was naive to believe her suffering had ended, for true torment is eternal. Madeline lost consciousness before the demons broke through the front door, following orders from the devil that had other plans. The perpetrators fled the area long before the sirens could be heard blaring from a distance. By the time it was extinguished, their apartment had been reduced to ashes...
Years later...
A lycanthrope stalked their target in silence. Her reddish fur lit by the sunlight peeking from windows. The helmet she wore, recorded the graffiti plastered all around, serving a bleak reminder that this decrepit building once served a purpose. She crept through the abandoned warehouse, dodging any needles or sharp objects littering the floor that could be walked on with her bare paws. Entering a stretch of hallway with nothing but towering pillars connected to the ceiling. She didn’t need heightened senses to catch a strong whiff of trash getting closer, turning the corner to see a dead-end with a large pile of garbage that smelled like urine. She observed the faint smoldering of a stray cigarette that had recently been smoked among the assortment. Holding her breath and digging her claws through the bags, finding something else too new and wholly out of place; a cybernetic disk drive. Taking the piece of evidence whilst pulling out one of her M970 Beretta’s from the holster strapped to her hip, hearing sounds of someone approaching from behind. Swiftly facing the assailant positioned fifteen feet from her, both aiming their firearms at each other. A baseball cap poorly masking his identity. His face looked young, with patchy stubble growing underneath his chin. Seeing the artificial glow of his eyes, as the dark shades slid to the edge of his long nose.
“Drop it. I’m not looking to shed blood today. Especially, not from some amateur thug foolhardy enough to aim their gun at a beast with the safety on.” Keeping a steady posture, with her index-finger still hovering over the trigger, watching as the man visibly trembled, dropping the gun and raising his hands above his head. She motioned with her firearm for him to turn.
“Please-I have family…” He pleaded complying to her command. She lunged forward, gripping his shoulder tightly and sticking the Beretta in his back.
“Another drawback of cheap labor, and accepting under-the-table work.” She thought before speaking in a cold tone. “Keep quiet and move, and you’ll live.” An extra annoyance distracting her from finishing the job. She guided him outside into an fenced off alleyway, with only one way out. She shoved him away, causing him to stumble forth and freeze. She sighed and lowered her gun, shoving it into her holster. She peered up at the building across the street, waving her left hand up in a deliberate manner.
“T-thank you…” He uttered, his voice cracking.
“Just get out of here-” Cutting her annoyed reply short, alerted as the sound a shot rang out followed by the man suddenly collapsing to the ground. She rushed forward and flipped him over, fingers putting pressure on the copious amount of blood gushing from his neck. She saw the life had already faded from his eyes. Standing up with bloodstained hands, leaving behind a hollow husk, resembling the emptiness she’d feel completing another assignment…
It was hard to admire the scenery with her eyes closed the whole ride home. Forgoing a seatbelt and laying on her side, taking up the entire back-seat, with her muzzle facing the leather, inadvertently inhaling the new car smell. Tuning out the roar of the afternoon, the same honking horns and yelling crowds as everyday. Most importantly, managing to drown out the drivers fast talk blathering. Pet dogs couldn’t drive; one of many established rules that were strictly followed, with certain punishment for those that break them. Basically forcing her into having a partner with every Reaper job, usually someone as slick a paralyzed goat covered in mud, and half as intelligent and attractive. He ordered her to use a bottle of water and a rag to scrub her hands clean and promptly discard them, unless she preferred walking.
The driver stopped at the last red light before reaching their destination, fidgeting with the radio dial, turning it to a weather report. He looked at her in the rear-view mirror and smirked, showing his taxicab yellow teeth. His inflection sounded like he was gargling salt water.
“You know for a freak. Your ass is still fine-” Feeling a swift heavy kick behind his chair in response, body jolting forward. In a moment of thought, she declined to verbalize her disgust, believing judgement was only a block away. He scoffed but kept his mouth shut, gripping the wheel tightly, driving across busy intersection the instant it turned green, barely dodging a collision with a truck slamming their breaks, coming from the passenger's side. Arriving at ‘The Fortress’ upon the agreed time, both knowing their boss would be anxiously waiting for them.
The Fortress; an accurate representation of the proverb of a house that never felt like home. No matter how many times she went through the entrance tunnel that was just narrow enough to give the claustrophobic a panic attack, everything seemed fabricated, a dream-like world that she couldn’t escape from. Personally speaking, it didn’t help that it always too warm for someone covered in fur.
Both walking inside the predominately white room, with various white objects and furnishings, the boss sitting in the middle of the sofa, accented with light blue pillows, the section of wall behind him shelved a large collection of books. He shifted to the right, facing a fake miniature tree, to unleash clouds of cigar smoke from his mouth. She slowly approached the pudgy man, kneeling beside the couch, as her partner set down a suitcase containing the retrieved disk and a sniper rifle and lightly tapped his foot. The boss gave her a pleasant smile, taking her helmet off with his hands and setting it in on the table, gently stroking the wolf head beneath. His affectionate gaze painted a picture of far more innocent soul. She’d compare the atmosphere in his presence closely related to the cigar’s he frequently smoked; toxic, destructive and malignant.
“Scarlett, my beautiful. Did you locate the archives?”
She purposely paused, withholding that answer until her partner interrupted.
“We got it boss. It’s in my case.” He responded, opening the suitcase with an audible click. She merely waited for a perfect moment, watching the boss cross his arms and lean back, his thick eyebrows twitching.
“I asked my pet-” The boss half-chuckled shooting a cold glare matching the tone of his final words, “Not you.” Inhaling and exhaling another cloud of smoke into the air. She nodded her head, responding to his glance at her then stood up and took the drive from the case, sitting on the sofa next to him. Now was the time to reveal the news...
“Master, he killed an unarmed man. A non-threat to our assignment, and he also left the body there.” She said.
“He was armed-” He argued.
“Master, I have the whole thing recorded.” She snapped back, the man looked surprised at the revelation.
“Sir, I didn’t think it would be smart to leave any witness.”
The boss raised his hand ceasing the argument into an awkward silence, he emptied his cigar in an ashtray and tossed a matchbook from his pants pocket onto the table.
“Would you mind re-lighting my cigar?” The boss said holding it out. The man quickly stepped forward, and picked up the match box and lit a match. The men bent over to hold the match up the cigar. The boss slammed the cigar butt straight into the man’s eye, followed by scream of agony as the man clutched his face, casually putting the cigar between in his lips, smoke pouring from his nostrils like a dragon. “You’ve already been paid generously. Get out of my sight.” He spoke dismissively, without a hint of emotion in his voice. The man fled fast as his legs could carry him, leaving the two alone. Was she sick to have enjoyed the entertainment?
“Scarlett, I had another important assignment come in. Everything I’ve prepared you for is required for this retrieval process.” He said getting back into business, pulling out a folder in-between the cushions and pulling out a black dog collar and leash behind the pillows.
“What am I retrieving?” Scarlett asked, looking at the opened folder dropped on the table with papers spreading out. Quickly noticing these weren’t pictures of weapons or technology, her drumbeat heart pounding unconsciously. Hearing her rapid pulse produce a melody in her ears. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.
“Capture this man, Lieutenant Davison and bring him to us.” He said with a smile, leaning to whisper into her ear and snapping the collar around her neck, “Your reward will be getting the vengeance you so desperately seek.”
“What?! He found them!?” Her eyes widened, mouth slightly agape rendered speechless.
"That's exactly what I meant." He clarified like an omniscient being that could read her mind, simultaneously attaching the leash and caressing her back with his fingertips. "Every last one of them will be brought to my pet on a silver platter, for you to play with as long as your heart desires-"
She gulped and clenched her hands, hastily replying cutting his sentence off. “Where do I start?”
He chuckled and stood up, playfully yanking the leash. “I like it when my pet is eager to please her master,” He teased, “let’s go to my bedroom. I’ll get you caught up on all the details…”
Her previous happy life had been stolen and enveloped in darkness. Her degrading situation left her stranded without options, becoming a specter of her former self performing horrendously boring tasks she had a knack for. Awake an endless succession of nights, only grasping for the spider’s-thin thread keeping her sanity from breaking. Getting revenge was the defining reason for her existence. This is where everything truly started for Madeline, now called Scarlett. Completing what she would see as her final assignment; finding Police Lieutenant Davison and exchanging him for her achieving her purpose. But having no idea just how difficult it would be to claw up the colossal wall standing in front of her, nor how many others with shared goals would wrench her back down into the abyss...
roleplayerguild.com/topics/167879-god…
Denizens of thousands, drawn to one. Streaks of spiraling crimson light, flourishing like a cyclone. Flames continuously spinning throughout the artificial skies. The flight’s movement captivated all below, ascending high enough to need assumptions on how loud their cheering was. Envisioning the roaring beneath, reaching his hand out where the stars fear to dwell. Vertically flipping over, keeping himself in the air, upside-down. Connecting the burning blades, forming St. Andrew’s Cross, keeping his body and legs straight. Spreading out both his arms while beaming down upon those always watched over. Counting subconsciously for a couple seconds before plummeting, the fire and the flashing accompanying his presence, until swords gracefully touched the soil extinguishing them both, causing a cloud of dissipating smoke. Followed by his feet landing on solid ground. The audience literally singing his praises, their voices carried to all who hear, applause echoed within The Underworld.
“Thank you everyone. I hope you enjoyed the show. Our celebration shall unleash envy across these lands. Animosity is the only entity that dies here. I want to hear joyous screams. ‘Life is only a path. Death is a destination.’” Asmoday exclaimed sheathing his swords on his back. Everyone repeated his declaration, over and over again. Asmoday placed his left hand over where the hollowness replaced his heart, dissonance suffocated the affection he was receiving…Eyes glaring at one demon, seven rows back, remaining still and silent.
“I’ve failed them…” That lingering thought couldn’t escape his mind.
Inside his golden castle walls, Asmoday let out some hearty laughter from upon his throne, slapping his knee, his golden cup runneth over. A demon holding a large bottle of wine, awkwardly laughed with him, rubbing the back of his neck, a gardening spade impaled through their foot. Asmoday gulped down the decadence swimming past his tongue, walking toward the demon, leaning over and pulling the tool out and handing it back over. Getting wine poured into his chalice. A bigger and bulkier demon rushed over carrying something wrapped in a large black sheet.
“Good new sir, I finished polishing and sharpening your-” They exclaimed stopping once Asmoday lifted up the sheet, grinning from ear to ear, patting the large demon’s shoulder.
“Wow, you’ve only just started and they’re already much brighter, I can practically see my reflection. Keep up the excellent work!” Asmoday said brimming with enthusiasm.
“Uh-um-Yes Sir. Thank you.” The big demon said before running off again, holding the blades like his life depended on it. Watching many demons quietly carrying large crates across the hallways from the opened doors. The demon cleared his throat, getting Asmoday’s attention fluttering his six wings.
“As I was saying-the words you instructed to be sent have been spreading, allowing us to reap this bountiful harvest, getting several years of resources and wine for far less than our average trading rates.”
“Precisely why I want everyone across my kingdom to drink to their soul’s content, a prideful king shouldn’t drink alone after all...” He said chugging the wine down, a little red running down his lips. The demon nodded starting to guzzle the rest from the wine bottle. Asmoday went toward his windows, lightly brushing his hair from his vision, watching the ongoing partying. The streets filled with dancing, drinking and fornication. Stabbing through the window with his claws, stepping through a portal, entering The Void. The temperature dropped, exhaling to reveal his breath. Pitch black, silent. The Overseer sits there, like a statue, on a precarious mass of bones, skulls littering the floor.
“This world has been filled with enough suffering, I’ll deliver true peace to all...through my words alone. My sons may handle those who belong here...Which, reminds me I should check up on them.” He left to his bedroom, sitting down near his desk and starting to grab several pieces of parchment and grabbing his feather pen, leaning over, rubbing his chin.
“Now-where do I begin?”
An army of fallen spears lay between the valley of barren wastelands. Two primate villages, a day’s skirmish eliminated decades of tranquility. Vultures circling amidst the broken bodies. Darkness cast its shadow, like the sun was embarrassed for them squandering countless lives. But real judgement was already looking down upon them, the impotence for the entire conflict. Snarling like a cornered beast, feet hovering above the ground, floating down from hilltops. Approaching a soldier without a left hand or right arm and a spear pinning their leg, moaning and squirming. Reaching behind his back, pulling out his axe, violently splitting their head in half, taking several heavy swings downward, embedding his axe into their chest and yanking the headless body up by their legs.
“You bored me!” He screamed like a petulant child, simultaneously smashing their body into the ground, until reducing it beyond recognition, retrieving his axe and storming through the valley, butchering the few living in close proximity, calming his nerves.
A mountain’s deep cavern, water dripping from stalactites. Illuminated by pale blue light, sheltered the women of the tribe, gathered together grieving over their husband’s demise, discussing the aftermath and fleeing elsewhere. Their children all sleeping deeper into the cave. Hushed silence fell, seeing the nine foot being, lingering above puddles of water and covered in blood. Stretching his claws out toward them.
“You maggots cowering. Hear me now, weak forgivers. Peace begets disaster. Let your weakness subside! Be filled with revulsion until every enemy has been slaughtered! Crave death! Feed like beasts and chew the flesh off their bones!”
All had fallen to their knees, one by one bodies grotesquely altered into a demonic horde, letting out animalistic yelps before charging out. He took hold of his axe again, heading deeper inside.
“Now I’ll deliver their offspring to my father...but it won’t be quick.”
The day after, traveling across the ocean on a small ship, devoid of living souls, instead occupied with shadow-like beasts. Secluded and locked inside a room. His father’s orders were clear and he obeyed them without any altercation. Drawing near the war goddess, Koritomo’s domain. Forced to stay for training and promised to not cause trouble. Passing time inside his thoughts, Having already read through every single book available, scattered upon the floor.
“Father, your surreptitiousness isn’t for the betterment of yourself, if shared among those you foolishly trust. Inexperienced conjecture about respecting our dead, feigning achievements, when you’ve only stagnated and proved ignorant from your isolation. These creatures all deserved to be purged. If you could see like me, you’d see...your reign is ending...”
Even those revealed in the brightest light, can still commit the darkest deeds. In the sweltering heat of dawn, groups of the enslaved being dragged by their chains. They rattle with every step, their grunts coming from pulling rickety carts, filled with heavy stone. The cart wobbles and topples, as the slave keels over. Sounds of whips cracking uncovered flesh. Cries of the mother’s children being silenced with violent strikes, puncturing one their skulls with the stone, blood pouring from their heads, mixing into the sandy roads. The gut wrenching scream came from the woman who clung to her motionless child. The other groups remain silenced, hanging their heads low, continuing to haul their workload.
“Worthless trash! If I don’t arrive with our materials on time again, my profit will be cut!” Said the man dressed in leather armor, shoving his foot into the mother’s rib cage. Forcefully pulling her and her other son by their long hair until they stood. The mother’s boney fingers couldn’t hold her son back, repeatedly punching the man and biting into his hand during the struggle. Knocking the boy down, the man quickly unsheathed his sword. The mother shielded the boy, extending her arms out, making a stopping motion with her shaking hand.
“Please!” She shrieked. “Spare him. He’s the only one I have left now…” She wailed falling to her knees, only growing more painful when unconsciously glancing at her slain son behind her owner. Noticing the longing stares from passersby on the street, the man scoffed putting away his blade. Grabbing their wrists and leading them both away. “You and your son’s hair is getting sold for your failures.”
Unbeknown to them, they were being followed...
The sound of snipping blades, the smell of must, sitting on creaky stools in a cramped room. The mother reassured her son that everything would be alright, they held each other’s hand tightly, their hair being cut off. The hairdresser stopped constantly to glare at them, seemingly paranoid that they were staring at her long nose. Walking out hearing someone yelling her name. The mother wiped her son’s tears off his cheek. Their moment together didn’t last long, two guards stormed inside, grabbing and pulling the child away. Her owner stepped inside, smirking and pointing at the child, before two guards took him away.
“Yes, he’s the one who murdered my slave.”
Her owner silenced her screams by grabbing her neck and dragging her off into the middle of a dead-end alleyway, throwing her to the ground. “You’re no longer necessary.” Wrapping her his arms around his leg, halting his movement, refusing to budge. He pulled her up from ground, ripping her shirt off, groping her and grabbing her chin. “Though maybe you can convince me to absolve your son of his crimes, otherwise he’ll be hanged tomorrow-” Her owner swiftly turned around, seeing the demonic figure standing there. Its massive skull, a single pale glimmer in its hollowed right eye. Chills rushed down the man’s body. The man screamed out, dropping the woman who fell to her knees, he attempted to run straight past. The demonic figure casually stretched his hand out to one side, pushing into the man’s knee. Emitting a loud crack, the man collapsed, screaming out, writhing in agony. His leg broken, bone fragments sticking out. The figure pulled out the man’s sword, casually walking over to the woman, sticking the blade into the dirt between her legs. The figure’s voice was harsh and passionate.
“I left this man alive, you should receive retribution with your own hands.”
The woman exchanging looks with the demonic figure, reaching out and grabbing the sword. The figure stepped away, watching her stagger, dragging the blade in her grasp, toward the man desperately crawling away. The woman lifted the sword up with both hands, shouting out. The man turned around and raising his hand.
“Forgive-” The man blubbered before the blade pierced straight through his neck, starting to gargle with blood pouring from his mouth, arm falling limp. The woman pulled out the blade, getting onto her knees, digging the blade’s side deeper into his neck.
“Cut until the head comes off!” The figure demanded. The woman kept cutting and cutting and cutting...
In the middle of nowhere, away from prying eyes. The woman drenched in blood held her son’s hand, feeling the warmth of the flames. Watching the two guard’s bodies on pyres burning, their screams had finally ceased. The figure writing down on parchment, with a quill.
“I’m grateful for our father and everything bestowed upon me, I take great pleasure keeping in touch...I vow those who betray my father or anger me. You’ll be alive when you're incinerated...oh-out of ink...” The figure dipped his quill into the body's neck stump, impaled through a spike which he was standing beside. Writing the very last sentence and rolling it up, when they approached him.
“Thank you. Let’s go, my youngest is waiting for us down there.” The woman uttered. The figure placed the rolled parchment into her palm. Gently resting his hand on her shoulder, his voice was cold.
“Deliver this to my father, those filthy beasts dwell elsewhere, take care…” She nodded. Both left in opposite directions going their separate ways. Vengeance had been fulfilled.
Three straight days, a dry thunderstorm roared across the seas, the ship was anchored down, every crew member fast asleep below deck. The moonlight helped guide the single seafarer habitually sea-sick to locate the starboard quarter, where he always relieved himself of dinner. Thick rope tied to his leg, attached to a heavy rock, droplets hitting the deck. Peering over the edge and clenching his fists and teeth, sharply inhaling. His ears suddenly heard the flapping of wings overhead, picturing the blackest bird, looking into the sky and spinning around. Getting startled seeing a cloaked stranger staring at him.
“How did you get here? Who-what are you?” He asked speech partially slurred, dumbfound by his appearance. He couldn’t stop asking the stranger to explain himself. The unquestionable is questioned. But made no reply. “His eyes seem curious and sympathetic…” He unconsciously relaxed, sitting then lying down. Shutting his eyes for a moment, listening to the waves. Opening his eyes minutes later, seeing the stranger remained in the same spot, staying silent. He sat up and motioned toward the stranger.
“You won’t leave me alone will ya? Sit down and listen to this ridiculed landlubber.” The stranger finally moved, by sitting down where he stood. “You're probably wondering why I’m like this-” The sailor uttered, thunder cracked again. “Because after the poison didn’t work-I didn’t really have many options left…” He hiccuped. “My wife left me for some sovereign. I didn’t have noteworthy opulence or looks...our captain, who I once considered my closest friend, convinced me to become a sailor and find my purpose here. But learned not only that I despised this lifestyle, I despised his exploitation of me and his crew. I have nothing left. I cannot stand such a tormented existence...but I’m such a gutless coward that I’ve been on this deck since sunset and I can’t-”
Suddenly, grabbing the stranger, clenching their shoulders, he buried his head into the stranger's chest, starting to sob. Noticing that he was cold to the touch, lacking a discernible heartbeat. The stranger’s large raven-like wings stretched out before the sailor’s eyes, they wrapped around the sailor which ceased his crying. His surprise that he wasn’t fearful, just amazed. “Such beautiful wings…” The stranger gently touched the sailor’s hands, feeling his racing pulse slowing.
“Do you seek escape from your suffering?”
But instead of receiving an immediate answer, the sailor stood upright which made the stranger retract his wings back underneath his cape. The winds harshly blew past the stranger, blowing the sailor's cap off his head, falling on the dock. It started raining. Stumbling over toward the rock and dragging it closer towards the edge. The stranger stood up observing the sailor. He turned back, giving him the faintest smile.
“You cannot save everybody...maybe if someone like you would’ve listened to me sooner, I’d be comfortable with wandering this world alone. But I’ve already decided how to escape. Thank you for your time...” His last word before shoving the rock off, simultaneously plummeting with it into the depths. He screamed. The stranger stepped to the edge, peering past the waters. Watching his arms madly thrashing about for an entire minute, stretching out to reach the surface only sinking further down, bubbles escaping his mouth, until just hanging open and his body no longer struggled. Just like everyone before. The sailor was no longer suffering...
“Why smile?” He wondered. Hearing several crew members coming from below deck, shouting out for someone’s name. Making him question why he never even received the sailor’s name. Leaping off and soaring across the skies before ever being noticed. Many gathered to the starboard quarter, only finding a stray cap.
“My father shall finally bring the solace that this world has failed to offer you...whatever that might be.” He thought flapping his wings, aimlessly drifting, only having the vaguest idea of exactly where he was going…
‘You will reap every seed that you sow.’ Wasn’t always meant as a deterrent. On a cold foggy morning, his extra layers making his forehead sweaty, the scythe swung down. Finished threshing the wheat fields, tapping the soil with his sturdy cane. The smell of wet grass filled the old man’s nostrils. White eyes, turning toward the strange noises coming from the woods by his farmhouse, he tried ignoring them but they kept going on. Feeling about until, slowly going down the stone path, leading into the trees. Hearing a thud….thud…thud. Like something hitting against the tree in a repeated and unfamiliar pattern. Smelling blood. Three large male deer had their necks snapped or skulls bashed in, blood rushing from their heads and all laying limp surrounding a big tree. Along with a giant covered in elaborate armor, repeatedly taking four steps back and promptly running his head into the tree. Thud. Walking back five steps. Thud. Nonstop. Hearing his deep discordant breathing.
“Hello? Who's there? Are you lost? I’m afraid the kingdom is west of here, the only one that lives here is myself…” The old man said stepping closer to the giant, getting his attention. Reaching out and suddenly feeling his hand being grabbed, but he could feel it shaking and couldn’t feel a pulse, hearing a strange moan.
“Maybe it’s a mute. It smells like there’s a dead animal nearby...this person may be asking for help...I need to fetch my grandson.” He thought. “Can’t talk? Don’t be afraid, I can have somebody help you. Follow me, I’ll take you to where I live.” The old man spoke with a gentle and kind voice, his grasp released. The old man turned around, walking along, hitting the stones with his cane, hearing the footsteps following behind. “My grandson found them by the riverbed. Planting all these rocks as pathways to help lead me all around here…he’s such a good boy.”
His words abruptly ended, clutching his head and started to laugh uncontrollably. He turned around and starting to frolic down by the river, toward a young boy that was sitting there, baiting a hook and casting a fishing rod, turning, hearing the old man’s laughter.
“Pa?” Splash! The older man laughed and laughed, the boy frantically thrashing about, held underneath the water, surfacing briefly only to get shoved in further. The masked figure let out uproarious laughter watching the boy’s body floating away…
“Here’s my house! Was an established church back when I was apart of a cult...I still lose sleep from the nightmares from my wicked past...you could say I was quite a madman!” The old man said giggling, beginning to scratch into his eyes with sharp fingernails until they started bleeding, staring at the flames burning down his house. The masked figure just left him alone in his lunacy, wishing to locate his brother, heading toward the kingdom, cackling the whole way...
Regaining conscious thought, recalling the indulgences that led him to this place. Hearing sounds of people talking, breathing and sleeping. Eyes widened looking at the familiar ceiling, the mortal’s fragrance, the feel of flesh touching fur. An unconscious naked woman lying horizontally, directly on his chest. Seeing claw marks stretching across her back, listening to her steady heartbeat. Lifting his arm that hanged off the bed, staring at the closed slash across his palm. Gently sliding her off, toward another sleeping with their top half underneath the covers, letting out a snore sounding like a mouse squeaking. Sitting up, surrounded by over a dozen women and several men, lying in the beds or on the floor. Wine, blood and other liquids drenched the room. He stood much taller than the rest, letting out a groan of disgust while trying to avoid stepping on anyone, wandering out through the hallway of the brothel. Hearing something quickly coming from behind, a white sheet thrown over his shoulders and wrapped around.
“You should wear some clothes, dear.” A gentle teasing male voice said coming around, giving the demi-god a weary smile. He scoffed, pulling off the sheet, giving a cold shoulder and started walking off quicker.
“I’m going downstairs to bathe.” He grumbled, heading downstairs.
“What a coincidence, so was I.” The human responding cheekily, following along into the public bathhouse, sounds of hearty laughter and chatter. The demi-god glanced at the mortal briefly, wrapped in linen with dampen hair, sighing and scratching his side. Stepping inside the largest available tub, submerging his lower half. Scooping the water in between his claws, splashing his face. Turning his head, giving the grinning human a troubled glare, feeling fingers stroking his back.
“Your back is filthy and matted. Need some help?”
“Leave me alone, Asher.” The demi-god uttered, rubbing his temples.
“Rytram, everyone here seeks the same pleasures, we’re equal in degeneracy. You shouldn’t hold so much contempt for yourself.” Asher said. Rytram glanced back at the human, rubbing his left shoulder blade with his opposite claw, before Asher started massaging his shoulders.
“Surrounding myself amongst sinners, doesn’t change how I loathe that I’m becoming my father…I don’t know how I’ve found someone-that actually sees me as anything more than a beast.” Rytram said. His varicose veins starting glowing bright like fire, abruptly spilling water when getting out, taking Asher’s hand without another word, leaving still dripping wet…
Pushing past pompous patrons of market places, passing the palace, the cacophony caused by the clamoring crowds, anxiously arriving at an arrangement of alabaster statues. Stealthily striding through squeaky doors, across hallways of sleeping soldiers...
Finally dry, pulling down the window’s curtains to block the blinding sunlight, Rytram collapsed on his side, curling up with his legs hanging off the canopy bed.
“Even after a whole month, it feels abnormal to find a demi-god lying in your bed…” Asher said sheathing his blade back into his belt, met with silence, rubbing the back of his neck. “Regardless of your father’s actions, you still talk with your other brothers don’t you?”
“My relationship with my brothers are so distant, I wouldn’t even notice passing by them in the street.” Rytram stated bluntly, watching Asher walking towards the window dressed in extravagant clothing, sitting on a chair, looking outside. “...When will you be back home? I don’t like that you do such stressful and dangerous work.” Rytram muttered shifting on his back, watching a spider crawling along the rafters of the high ceiling. Asher smiled, going toward the bed and sitting down.
“I’m prepared for negotiations to last the entire night. My mediation is required against more the aggressive members, otherwise I’d expect things to go sideways. But I’m quite excellent at my occupation, I should be back by midnight, dear. Maybe you can surprise me with some wine.” Rytram scoffed and looking away, resting his head on his hand making a fist.
“I utterly refuse to ever drink alone again! I’m not my father and I’ve done enough regretful actions based on poor decisions-” Rytram half-shouted silenced by a kiss. His face flushes, nearly jumping upright.
“Well you’re not alone anymore and I certainly don’t regret us meeting, because you decided to drink excessively. I’m quite happy to have someone I love.” Asher said Rytram opened his mouth to speak but merely babbled inaudibly, seeing the visible disappointment on Asher’s face. Promptly leaving, saying nothing more. Asher sighed.
He was going to be late...Asher quickly stopped at a market stall, grabbing and paying for a bright red apple. Noticing and giving a teenager and the child clinging behind them, two loafs of bread, before running off with rushed breaths. Not paying mind to what’s around the corner. Colliding with another, Asher collapsed backwards, the red apple falls upon the ground, rolling towards a large blade connected to a slender masked figure, just standing there quietly. Asher couldn’t stand, or even move, nor could he look away from the stranger’s foreboding presence.
Despite his misgivings, Rytram had finished writing and sending his letter for his father. Strolling down the empty and quiet midnight streets, staring up at the moon and heading straight through Asher’s squeaking front door. Sealed bottles of wine held in his claws, he walked up the stairs and noticed the bedroom door was already half-open.
“Asher-” Rytram said tapping the door wide open, seeing Asher’s feet dangling in the air, underneath a fallen chair, motionless, hung by the neck with their bed sheets tied to the rafters. The sound of breaking glass, rushing to release him, lying limp in Rytram’s arms. Screams of agony. Holding tightly to his last regrets...
Asmoday (God Of The Underworld)
Denizens of thousands, drawn to one. Streaks of spiraling crimson light, flourishing like a cyclone. Flames continuously spinning throughout the artificial skies. The flight’s movement captivated all below, ascending high enough to need assumptions on how loud their cheering was. Envisioning the roaring beneath, reaching his hand out where the stars fear to dwell. Vertically flipping over, keeping himself in the air, upside-down. Connecting the burning blades, forming St. Andrew’s Cross, keeping his body and legs straight. Spreading out both his arms while beaming down upon those always watched over. Counting subconsciously for a couple seconds before plummeting, the fire and the flashing accompanying his presence, until swords gracefully touched the soil extinguishing them both, causing a cloud of dissipating smoke. Followed by his feet landing on solid ground. The audience literally singing his praises, their voices carried to all who hear, applause echoed within The Underworld.
“Thank you everyone. I hope you enjoyed the show. Our celebration shall unleash envy across these lands. Animosity is the only entity that dies here. I want to hear joyous screams. ‘Life is only a path. Death is a destination.’” Asmoday exclaimed sheathing his swords on his back. Everyone repeated his declaration, over and over again. Asmoday placed his left hand over where the hollowness replaced his heart, dissonance suffocated the affection he was receiving…Eyes glaring at one demon, seven rows back, remaining still and silent.
“I’ve failed them…” That lingering thought couldn’t escape his mind.
* * *
Inside his golden castle walls, Asmoday let out some hearty laughter from upon his throne, slapping his knee, his golden cup runneth over. A demon holding a large bottle of wine, awkwardly laughed with him, rubbing the back of his neck, a gardening spade impaled through their foot. Asmoday gulped down the decadence swimming past his tongue, walking toward the demon, leaning over and pulling the tool out and handing it back over. Getting wine poured into his chalice. A bigger and bulkier demon rushed over carrying something wrapped in a large black sheet.
“Good new sir, I finished polishing and sharpening your-” They exclaimed stopping once Asmoday lifted up the sheet, grinning from ear to ear, patting the large demon’s shoulder.
“Wow, you’ve only just started and they’re already much brighter, I can practically see my reflection. Keep up the excellent work!” Asmoday said brimming with enthusiasm.
“Uh-um-Yes Sir. Thank you.” The big demon said before running off again, holding the blades like his life depended on it. Watching many demons quietly carrying large crates across the hallways from the opened doors. The demon cleared his throat, getting Asmoday’s attention fluttering his six wings.
“As I was saying-the words you instructed to be sent have been spreading, allowing us to reap this bountiful harvest, getting several years of resources and wine for far less than our average trading rates.”
“Precisely why I want everyone across my kingdom to drink to their soul’s content, a prideful king shouldn’t drink alone after all...” He said chugging the wine down, a little red running down his lips. The demon nodded starting to guzzle the rest from the wine bottle. Asmoday went toward his windows, lightly brushing his hair from his vision, watching the ongoing partying. The streets filled with dancing, drinking and fornication. Stabbing through the window with his claws, stepping through a portal, entering The Void. The temperature dropped, exhaling to reveal his breath. Pitch black, silent. The Overseer sits there, like a statue, on a precarious mass of bones, skulls littering the floor.
“This world has been filled with enough suffering, I’ll deliver true peace to all...through my words alone. My sons may handle those who belong here...Which, reminds me I should check up on them.” He left to his bedroom, sitting down near his desk and starting to grab several pieces of parchment and grabbing his feather pen, leaning over, rubbing his chin.
“Now-where do I begin?”
Lokotos
An army of fallen spears lay between the valley of barren wastelands. Two primate villages, a day’s skirmish eliminated decades of tranquility. Vultures circling amidst the broken bodies. Darkness cast its shadow, like the sun was embarrassed for them squandering countless lives. But real judgement was already looking down upon them, the impotence for the entire conflict. Snarling like a cornered beast, feet hovering above the ground, floating down from hilltops. Approaching a soldier without a left hand or right arm and a spear pinning their leg, moaning and squirming. Reaching behind his back, pulling out his axe, violently splitting their head in half, taking several heavy swings downward, embedding his axe into their chest and yanking the headless body up by their legs.
“You bored me!” He screamed like a petulant child, simultaneously smashing their body into the ground, until reducing it beyond recognition, retrieving his axe and storming through the valley, butchering the few living in close proximity, calming his nerves.
* * *
A mountain’s deep cavern, water dripping from stalactites. Illuminated by pale blue light, sheltered the women of the tribe, gathered together grieving over their husband’s demise, discussing the aftermath and fleeing elsewhere. Their children all sleeping deeper into the cave. Hushed silence fell, seeing the nine foot being, lingering above puddles of water and covered in blood. Stretching his claws out toward them.
“You maggots cowering. Hear me now, weak forgivers. Peace begets disaster. Let your weakness subside! Be filled with revulsion until every enemy has been slaughtered! Crave death! Feed like beasts and chew the flesh off their bones!”
All had fallen to their knees, one by one bodies grotesquely altered into a demonic horde, letting out animalistic yelps before charging out. He took hold of his axe again, heading deeper inside.
“Now I’ll deliver their offspring to my father...but it won’t be quick.”
* * *
The day after, traveling across the ocean on a small ship, devoid of living souls, instead occupied with shadow-like beasts. Secluded and locked inside a room. His father’s orders were clear and he obeyed them without any altercation. Drawing near the war goddess, Koritomo’s domain. Forced to stay for training and promised to not cause trouble. Passing time inside his thoughts, Having already read through every single book available, scattered upon the floor.
“Father, your surreptitiousness isn’t for the betterment of yourself, if shared among those you foolishly trust. Inexperienced conjecture about respecting our dead, feigning achievements, when you’ve only stagnated and proved ignorant from your isolation. These creatures all deserved to be purged. If you could see like me, you’d see...your reign is ending...”
Thryce
Even those revealed in the brightest light, can still commit the darkest deeds. In the sweltering heat of dawn, groups of the enslaved being dragged by their chains. They rattle with every step, their grunts coming from pulling rickety carts, filled with heavy stone. The cart wobbles and topples, as the slave keels over. Sounds of whips cracking uncovered flesh. Cries of the mother’s children being silenced with violent strikes, puncturing one their skulls with the stone, blood pouring from their heads, mixing into the sandy roads. The gut wrenching scream came from the woman who clung to her motionless child. The other groups remain silenced, hanging their heads low, continuing to haul their workload.
“Worthless trash! If I don’t arrive with our materials on time again, my profit will be cut!” Said the man dressed in leather armor, shoving his foot into the mother’s rib cage. Forcefully pulling her and her other son by their long hair until they stood. The mother’s boney fingers couldn’t hold her son back, repeatedly punching the man and biting into his hand during the struggle. Knocking the boy down, the man quickly unsheathed his sword. The mother shielded the boy, extending her arms out, making a stopping motion with her shaking hand.
“Please!” She shrieked. “Spare him. He’s the only one I have left now…” She wailed falling to her knees, only growing more painful when unconsciously glancing at her slain son behind her owner. Noticing the longing stares from passersby on the street, the man scoffed putting away his blade. Grabbing their wrists and leading them both away. “You and your son’s hair is getting sold for your failures.”
Unbeknown to them, they were being followed...
* * *
The sound of snipping blades, the smell of must, sitting on creaky stools in a cramped room. The mother reassured her son that everything would be alright, they held each other’s hand tightly, their hair being cut off. The hairdresser stopped constantly to glare at them, seemingly paranoid that they were staring at her long nose. Walking out hearing someone yelling her name. The mother wiped her son’s tears off his cheek. Their moment together didn’t last long, two guards stormed inside, grabbing and pulling the child away. Her owner stepped inside, smirking and pointing at the child, before two guards took him away.
“Yes, he’s the one who murdered my slave.”
Her owner silenced her screams by grabbing her neck and dragging her off into the middle of a dead-end alleyway, throwing her to the ground. “You’re no longer necessary.” Wrapping her his arms around his leg, halting his movement, refusing to budge. He pulled her up from ground, ripping her shirt off, groping her and grabbing her chin. “Though maybe you can convince me to absolve your son of his crimes, otherwise he’ll be hanged tomorrow-” Her owner swiftly turned around, seeing the demonic figure standing there. Its massive skull, a single pale glimmer in its hollowed right eye. Chills rushed down the man’s body. The man screamed out, dropping the woman who fell to her knees, he attempted to run straight past. The demonic figure casually stretched his hand out to one side, pushing into the man’s knee. Emitting a loud crack, the man collapsed, screaming out, writhing in agony. His leg broken, bone fragments sticking out. The figure pulled out the man’s sword, casually walking over to the woman, sticking the blade into the dirt between her legs. The figure’s voice was harsh and passionate.
“I left this man alive, you should receive retribution with your own hands.”
The woman exchanging looks with the demonic figure, reaching out and grabbing the sword. The figure stepped away, watching her stagger, dragging the blade in her grasp, toward the man desperately crawling away. The woman lifted the sword up with both hands, shouting out. The man turned around and raising his hand.
“Forgive-” The man blubbered before the blade pierced straight through his neck, starting to gargle with blood pouring from his mouth, arm falling limp. The woman pulled out the blade, getting onto her knees, digging the blade’s side deeper into his neck.
“Cut until the head comes off!” The figure demanded. The woman kept cutting and cutting and cutting...
* * *
In the middle of nowhere, away from prying eyes. The woman drenched in blood held her son’s hand, feeling the warmth of the flames. Watching the two guard’s bodies on pyres burning, their screams had finally ceased. The figure writing down on parchment, with a quill.
“I’m grateful for our father and everything bestowed upon me, I take great pleasure keeping in touch...I vow those who betray my father or anger me. You’ll be alive when you're incinerated...oh-out of ink...” The figure dipped his quill into the body's neck stump, impaled through a spike which he was standing beside. Writing the very last sentence and rolling it up, when they approached him.
“Thank you. Let’s go, my youngest is waiting for us down there.” The woman uttered. The figure placed the rolled parchment into her palm. Gently resting his hand on her shoulder, his voice was cold.
“Deliver this to my father, those filthy beasts dwell elsewhere, take care…” She nodded. Both left in opposite directions going their separate ways. Vengeance had been fulfilled.
Ebiinate
Three straight days, a dry thunderstorm roared across the seas, the ship was anchored down, every crew member fast asleep below deck. The moonlight helped guide the single seafarer habitually sea-sick to locate the starboard quarter, where he always relieved himself of dinner. Thick rope tied to his leg, attached to a heavy rock, droplets hitting the deck. Peering over the edge and clenching his fists and teeth, sharply inhaling. His ears suddenly heard the flapping of wings overhead, picturing the blackest bird, looking into the sky and spinning around. Getting startled seeing a cloaked stranger staring at him.
“How did you get here? Who-what are you?” He asked speech partially slurred, dumbfound by his appearance. He couldn’t stop asking the stranger to explain himself. The unquestionable is questioned. But made no reply. “His eyes seem curious and sympathetic…” He unconsciously relaxed, sitting then lying down. Shutting his eyes for a moment, listening to the waves. Opening his eyes minutes later, seeing the stranger remained in the same spot, staying silent. He sat up and motioned toward the stranger.
“You won’t leave me alone will ya? Sit down and listen to this ridiculed landlubber.” The stranger finally moved, by sitting down where he stood. “You're probably wondering why I’m like this-” The sailor uttered, thunder cracked again. “Because after the poison didn’t work-I didn’t really have many options left…” He hiccuped. “My wife left me for some sovereign. I didn’t have noteworthy opulence or looks...our captain, who I once considered my closest friend, convinced me to become a sailor and find my purpose here. But learned not only that I despised this lifestyle, I despised his exploitation of me and his crew. I have nothing left. I cannot stand such a tormented existence...but I’m such a gutless coward that I’ve been on this deck since sunset and I can’t-”
Suddenly, grabbing the stranger, clenching their shoulders, he buried his head into the stranger's chest, starting to sob. Noticing that he was cold to the touch, lacking a discernible heartbeat. The stranger’s large raven-like wings stretched out before the sailor’s eyes, they wrapped around the sailor which ceased his crying. His surprise that he wasn’t fearful, just amazed. “Such beautiful wings…” The stranger gently touched the sailor’s hands, feeling his racing pulse slowing.
“Do you seek escape from your suffering?”
But instead of receiving an immediate answer, the sailor stood upright which made the stranger retract his wings back underneath his cape. The winds harshly blew past the stranger, blowing the sailor's cap off his head, falling on the dock. It started raining. Stumbling over toward the rock and dragging it closer towards the edge. The stranger stood up observing the sailor. He turned back, giving him the faintest smile.
“You cannot save everybody...maybe if someone like you would’ve listened to me sooner, I’d be comfortable with wandering this world alone. But I’ve already decided how to escape. Thank you for your time...” His last word before shoving the rock off, simultaneously plummeting with it into the depths. He screamed. The stranger stepped to the edge, peering past the waters. Watching his arms madly thrashing about for an entire minute, stretching out to reach the surface only sinking further down, bubbles escaping his mouth, until just hanging open and his body no longer struggled. Just like everyone before. The sailor was no longer suffering...
“Why smile?” He wondered. Hearing several crew members coming from below deck, shouting out for someone’s name. Making him question why he never even received the sailor’s name. Leaping off and soaring across the skies before ever being noticed. Many gathered to the starboard quarter, only finding a stray cap.
“My father shall finally bring the solace that this world has failed to offer you...whatever that might be.” He thought flapping his wings, aimlessly drifting, only having the vaguest idea of exactly where he was going…
Krawle
‘You will reap every seed that you sow.’ Wasn’t always meant as a deterrent. On a cold foggy morning, his extra layers making his forehead sweaty, the scythe swung down. Finished threshing the wheat fields, tapping the soil with his sturdy cane. The smell of wet grass filled the old man’s nostrils. White eyes, turning toward the strange noises coming from the woods by his farmhouse, he tried ignoring them but they kept going on. Feeling about until, slowly going down the stone path, leading into the trees. Hearing a thud….thud…thud. Like something hitting against the tree in a repeated and unfamiliar pattern. Smelling blood. Three large male deer had their necks snapped or skulls bashed in, blood rushing from their heads and all laying limp surrounding a big tree. Along with a giant covered in elaborate armor, repeatedly taking four steps back and promptly running his head into the tree. Thud. Walking back five steps. Thud. Nonstop. Hearing his deep discordant breathing.
“Hello? Who's there? Are you lost? I’m afraid the kingdom is west of here, the only one that lives here is myself…” The old man said stepping closer to the giant, getting his attention. Reaching out and suddenly feeling his hand being grabbed, but he could feel it shaking and couldn’t feel a pulse, hearing a strange moan.
“Maybe it’s a mute. It smells like there’s a dead animal nearby...this person may be asking for help...I need to fetch my grandson.” He thought. “Can’t talk? Don’t be afraid, I can have somebody help you. Follow me, I’ll take you to where I live.” The old man spoke with a gentle and kind voice, his grasp released. The old man turned around, walking along, hitting the stones with his cane, hearing the footsteps following behind. “My grandson found them by the riverbed. Planting all these rocks as pathways to help lead me all around here…he’s such a good boy.”
His words abruptly ended, clutching his head and started to laugh uncontrollably. He turned around and starting to frolic down by the river, toward a young boy that was sitting there, baiting a hook and casting a fishing rod, turning, hearing the old man’s laughter.
“Pa?” Splash! The older man laughed and laughed, the boy frantically thrashing about, held underneath the water, surfacing briefly only to get shoved in further. The masked figure let out uproarious laughter watching the boy’s body floating away…
* * *
“Here’s my house! Was an established church back when I was apart of a cult...I still lose sleep from the nightmares from my wicked past...you could say I was quite a madman!” The old man said giggling, beginning to scratch into his eyes with sharp fingernails until they started bleeding, staring at the flames burning down his house. The masked figure just left him alone in his lunacy, wishing to locate his brother, heading toward the kingdom, cackling the whole way...
Rytram
Regaining conscious thought, recalling the indulgences that led him to this place. Hearing sounds of people talking, breathing and sleeping. Eyes widened looking at the familiar ceiling, the mortal’s fragrance, the feel of flesh touching fur. An unconscious naked woman lying horizontally, directly on his chest. Seeing claw marks stretching across her back, listening to her steady heartbeat. Lifting his arm that hanged off the bed, staring at the closed slash across his palm. Gently sliding her off, toward another sleeping with their top half underneath the covers, letting out a snore sounding like a mouse squeaking. Sitting up, surrounded by over a dozen women and several men, lying in the beds or on the floor. Wine, blood and other liquids drenched the room. He stood much taller than the rest, letting out a groan of disgust while trying to avoid stepping on anyone, wandering out through the hallway of the brothel. Hearing something quickly coming from behind, a white sheet thrown over his shoulders and wrapped around.
“You should wear some clothes, dear.” A gentle teasing male voice said coming around, giving the demi-god a weary smile. He scoffed, pulling off the sheet, giving a cold shoulder and started walking off quicker.
“I’m going downstairs to bathe.” He grumbled, heading downstairs.
“What a coincidence, so was I.” The human responding cheekily, following along into the public bathhouse, sounds of hearty laughter and chatter. The demi-god glanced at the mortal briefly, wrapped in linen with dampen hair, sighing and scratching his side. Stepping inside the largest available tub, submerging his lower half. Scooping the water in between his claws, splashing his face. Turning his head, giving the grinning human a troubled glare, feeling fingers stroking his back.
“Your back is filthy and matted. Need some help?”
“Leave me alone, Asher.” The demi-god uttered, rubbing his temples.
“Rytram, everyone here seeks the same pleasures, we’re equal in degeneracy. You shouldn’t hold so much contempt for yourself.” Asher said. Rytram glanced back at the human, rubbing his left shoulder blade with his opposite claw, before Asher started massaging his shoulders.
“Surrounding myself amongst sinners, doesn’t change how I loathe that I’m becoming my father…I don’t know how I’ve found someone-that actually sees me as anything more than a beast.” Rytram said. His varicose veins starting glowing bright like fire, abruptly spilling water when getting out, taking Asher’s hand without another word, leaving still dripping wet…
* * *
Pushing past pompous patrons of market places, passing the palace, the cacophony caused by the clamoring crowds, anxiously arriving at an arrangement of alabaster statues. Stealthily striding through squeaky doors, across hallways of sleeping soldiers...
Finally dry, pulling down the window’s curtains to block the blinding sunlight, Rytram collapsed on his side, curling up with his legs hanging off the canopy bed.
“Even after a whole month, it feels abnormal to find a demi-god lying in your bed…” Asher said sheathing his blade back into his belt, met with silence, rubbing the back of his neck. “Regardless of your father’s actions, you still talk with your other brothers don’t you?”
“My relationship with my brothers are so distant, I wouldn’t even notice passing by them in the street.” Rytram stated bluntly, watching Asher walking towards the window dressed in extravagant clothing, sitting on a chair, looking outside. “...When will you be back home? I don’t like that you do such stressful and dangerous work.” Rytram muttered shifting on his back, watching a spider crawling along the rafters of the high ceiling. Asher smiled, going toward the bed and sitting down.
“I’m prepared for negotiations to last the entire night. My mediation is required against more the aggressive members, otherwise I’d expect things to go sideways. But I’m quite excellent at my occupation, I should be back by midnight, dear. Maybe you can surprise me with some wine.” Rytram scoffed and looking away, resting his head on his hand making a fist.
“I utterly refuse to ever drink alone again! I’m not my father and I’ve done enough regretful actions based on poor decisions-” Rytram half-shouted silenced by a kiss. His face flushes, nearly jumping upright.
“Well you’re not alone anymore and I certainly don’t regret us meeting, because you decided to drink excessively. I’m quite happy to have someone I love.” Asher said Rytram opened his mouth to speak but merely babbled inaudibly, seeing the visible disappointment on Asher’s face. Promptly leaving, saying nothing more. Asher sighed.
* * *
He was going to be late...Asher quickly stopped at a market stall, grabbing and paying for a bright red apple. Noticing and giving a teenager and the child clinging behind them, two loafs of bread, before running off with rushed breaths. Not paying mind to what’s around the corner. Colliding with another, Asher collapsed backwards, the red apple falls upon the ground, rolling towards a large blade connected to a slender masked figure, just standing there quietly. Asher couldn’t stand, or even move, nor could he look away from the stranger’s foreboding presence.
* * *
Despite his misgivings, Rytram had finished writing and sending his letter for his father. Strolling down the empty and quiet midnight streets, staring up at the moon and heading straight through Asher’s squeaking front door. Sealed bottles of wine held in his claws, he walked up the stairs and noticed the bedroom door was already half-open.
“Asher-” Rytram said tapping the door wide open, seeing Asher’s feet dangling in the air, underneath a fallen chair, motionless, hung by the neck with their bed sheets tied to the rafters. The sound of breaking glass, rushing to release him, lying limp in Rytram’s arms. Screams of agony. Holding tightly to his last regrets...
Disclaimer: The levels of roleplay don't really have much to do with the wordcount to me. At least, it's not the only factor that's relaxant. 'Free' will often have the shortest word counts per post. But 'Casual' doesn't have to be any larger than 'Advanced'. I'd consider 'Advanced' for people more capable of writing actual prose and trying to be experimental. (Going beyond the words themselves, and maybe having a more expansive vocabulary.) But I don't expect all typos and minor inaccuracies to ever truly be gone, as everyone makes mistakes. Best you can do is be made aware of them and correct them when able to.
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