Even as the road seemed to stretch out before her, Naka kept walking. With a broken rib and a busted lip, she kept walking. The young woman was in a state and she just needed to get to safety. Her body ached from two days without sleep. If she had had the energy, Naka would have cursed under her breath. The walk had been long, out into the boonies, but with no more money and no way to pay for a cab, she had started walking. With shaking hands the girl reached into her vest, the black leather clung to the girl, buckles and belts hanging from it, and from the breast pocket a crumpled pack of Marlboro's came. The rest of the young woman's attire was equally as dark as her vest. Black jeans, complete with buckles and belts, matched her vest, and her blue black hair shinning with bright green streaks that framed her face.
"Goddamn it!"
*Flick* *Flick*
The flint on her lighter struggled, the flame wouldn't keep in the open of the lane she was walking down. Dirty hands cupped around the flame just long enough for it to sputter and catch. With an appreciative groan, Naka inhaled deeply and immediately regretted it. Pain shot through her chest from the broken rib. The map she had stolen from some gas station had said this was the road that would lead her to the manor, and Naka frowned as the gate came into view.
The young woman wasn't sure about all this. Never had she been one to be all 'kum-by-a' with others, especially over the thing she hated most about herself. What were they going to teach her there? How to share her feelings? Pfft. All these thoughts raced through her head as the wrought iron towered before her. As the doubts set in, practicality chimed in.
Just a few days before Naka had been attacked. But it hadn't been mutant motivated, it had been party motivated. Her last batch of products she had sold had been less than satisfactory. A group of her buyers had cornered her, and when nothing could be done, they took out their frustration on the young gypsy. Vines had come up then, to wrap around the group in the alleyway, it was the only thing Naka could do to scramble away while they were stuck. Not only did they beat her up, they also took all of her money. Her Aunt and Uncle weren't an option to stay with anymore, and she had been staying in a hotel for weeks.
Between a rock and a hard place, she pushed the gate slightly, and took another, shallower drag of her cigarette. No one seemed to be around, which worried the girl. Had she gotten the wrong place? The sign had said Xaiver's...
As she approached the front entrance she could hear students scrambling, the girl ducked out of sight of the front as they passed by.
"I don't want to be late for it. Headmistress Pryde is supposed to speak and all that..."
Snippets of conversation floated to the young woman as she finished puffing on her cigarette. An assembly?
With a chuckle and a fluff of her hair, to cover her swollen eye, Naka slipped into the stream of students now heading to the auditorium. As the students got to the doors, Naka made sure to blend into a small group before posting herself up behind the last row of chairs. She couldn't sit for fear of the pain from her injury, but she was interested in hearing the Headmistress' little speech.
Most of the students seemed to know each other, an as everyone seemed to settle into their conversations, second thoughts settled into Naka's mind.
LyricsKiss Member
- Last Seen: MIA
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 82 (0.02 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- LyricsKiss 11 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
I should have my post up tonight. Sorry if y'all are waiting on me.
Well speaking of rainbow love, Naka is sorta like Jack Harkness...She LOVES everyone! except herself
PoisonLilies said
I am loving Danny. The "I hope you plan on recycling that." made me laugh more than it should have.So far am I the only new student?
Naka is going to be a new student as well, so nope, you won't be alone :-)
Maestor Jamon spent the next fortnight forgetting himself in drink and gambling. It was easy for others to underestimate the blind Maestor, but he found it helped him forget the heartache. By the time he made his way back to the kingdom, the King had thought he had laid Belamica to rest in her hero’s tomb. He sneered at the thought, Bela hated being in the eye of everyone for her deeds she saw as her duty. She wouldn’t have rested in peace with everyone coming to boast over her tomb. Since so long had passed without a Maestor, the King had installed a new one. Jamon was welcomed back with open arms and worked alongside the new Maestor, Bartomius, for many years.
The two grew close and worked under the light of the father to keep the kingdom safe. Nearing the end of his life, an illness took hold of Jamon, and upon his death bed he gave a confession that shocked his colleague.
“And when he coughed, I knew his last breath would be soon. He wished me closer and as I moved in, the man grabbed hold of my robe, and pulled me close. Where his strength came from, I know not, but his blind eyes seemed to see me suddenly. He spoke of his love, a maiden of the light who had died a noble death. He had never told her of his feelings, and he always wished she had known how much he loved her. It seemed the woman he speaks of is the elf maiden whom we celebrate for in the Spring. He spoke of how she was one of a kind, and the king held her as his personal champion. A renowned Paladin she was privileged with training at the Court of the Father where the Relics of Light are held. She took the highest honor in battle. All of these things he told me with his last breath. I didn’t understand why he was telling me all this, until he coughed and his chest shook.
Then he told me of what he had done, I almost couldn’t believe it. He had absconded with the maiden’s remains to lay her to rest in a place she admired, away from those who would idolize her. It was the most peculiar thing I had ever heard. He’d placed bones from the catacombs under her shroud to keep others from knowing. If the man hadn’t trusted me, he would have taken the secret to his grave.”
The words were scribbled and within a cracked leather tome, other passages detailing the rise and fall of the king and his men.
The two grew close and worked under the light of the father to keep the kingdom safe. Nearing the end of his life, an illness took hold of Jamon, and upon his death bed he gave a confession that shocked his colleague.
“And when he coughed, I knew his last breath would be soon. He wished me closer and as I moved in, the man grabbed hold of my robe, and pulled me close. Where his strength came from, I know not, but his blind eyes seemed to see me suddenly. He spoke of his love, a maiden of the light who had died a noble death. He had never told her of his feelings, and he always wished she had known how much he loved her. It seemed the woman he speaks of is the elf maiden whom we celebrate for in the Spring. He spoke of how she was one of a kind, and the king held her as his personal champion. A renowned Paladin she was privileged with training at the Court of the Father where the Relics of Light are held. She took the highest honor in battle. All of these things he told me with his last breath. I didn’t understand why he was telling me all this, until he coughed and his chest shook.
Then he told me of what he had done, I almost couldn’t believe it. He had absconded with the maiden’s remains to lay her to rest in a place she admired, away from those who would idolize her. It was the most peculiar thing I had ever heard. He’d placed bones from the catacombs under her shroud to keep others from knowing. If the man hadn’t trusted me, he would have taken the secret to his grave.”
The words were scribbled and within a cracked leather tome, other passages detailing the rise and fall of the king and his men.
“That…that can’t be…what do you mean abducted?”
The king couldn’t understand how someone could break into his castle and steal away with his most prized warrior.
“I’m sorry My King, but there were no signs of a fight, and no one has seen hide nor hair of the Lady since last night when the Maester sewed her up.” The errand boy was shaking, his head down as he delivered the bad news to his king. The monarch was quiet for a long moment before he sighed, “Put word out that I am offering a reward for her safe return or any information concerning her whereabouts.”
“Yes, M’Lord.”
The boy bowed out of the room and disappeared into the hall. Within days the word had spread and the rest of the men of Belamica’s unit began to sift through the people reporting to have seen the paladin maiden being carried away from the castle. It took a week before anyone had a lead well enough to go on, after that more people came forward.
It was a fortnight since her death before her men found what remained of Belamica. The men and their knowledge of the undead knew right away that Bela had taken down the ‘Dark Father.’ Around her broken, lifeless body laid the corpses of at least a few dozen undead minions. The men extricated her remains from the bodies and laid her on the stretcher they’d brought, hoping to find her alive but injured. A white shroud was laid over her body before she was brought in through the gates of the village.
Women wept as they heard the news of the Champion’s passing, men toasted to her in the streets and taverns, and within the castle walls, a feast would be held in her honor.
“Today, on the 12th day of our Spring Season, we celebrate the memory of a blessed warrior of the light. She was a champion of righteousness and valor, shedding light into the darkest of places. Henceforth, this day will be known as the Day of the Light Maiden, in honor of our fallen hero, Belamica Darkthorn. May the Father take you up into his shinning embrace and reward you for your courageous deeds against the darkness. Forever will you ring true into our memories…”
Within the depths of the castle, the shroud covered corpse of the elven maiden was being cried over. The blind Maester held the cold hand of the woman he loved. Never had he told her of his feelings, knowing he wouldn’t be an equal match for such a beauty. Though he’d never seen her, they had spoken for hours over ale on numerous occasions, and from those times he had seen her as truly as if he had eyes.
“Belamica, I do not wish to see your tomb shrouded in gold…and I know you would not either. I will take you to the Hollow Hills, where you always wished to visit, and lay your body to rest there. It’s beauty is almost fitting for the likes of you, my maiden.”
The words were whispered and by the time the men of the king’s guard came to fetch the body in the morning, nothing would look out of place. Skulls from the catacombs and bones from there as well were used to dupe the guard as Maester Jamon secured ride for him and his ‘mother’s’ remains across the shinning sea. It was weeks before he found a proper burial place, villagers assuring him it would be a beautiful place to be laid to rest. Only once he laid her out in her tomb, deep within the Hollow Hills, did he allow himself to grieve once more. With her sword and emblem of the Father buried with her, Maestor Jamon paid village men to seal up the tomb. Once the job was done, he promptly poisoned their dinner. No one could know of the location of his dearest’s tomb, no vile hand would marr her ever again.
The king couldn’t understand how someone could break into his castle and steal away with his most prized warrior.
“I’m sorry My King, but there were no signs of a fight, and no one has seen hide nor hair of the Lady since last night when the Maester sewed her up.” The errand boy was shaking, his head down as he delivered the bad news to his king. The monarch was quiet for a long moment before he sighed, “Put word out that I am offering a reward for her safe return or any information concerning her whereabouts.”
“Yes, M’Lord.”
The boy bowed out of the room and disappeared into the hall. Within days the word had spread and the rest of the men of Belamica’s unit began to sift through the people reporting to have seen the paladin maiden being carried away from the castle. It took a week before anyone had a lead well enough to go on, after that more people came forward.
It was a fortnight since her death before her men found what remained of Belamica. The men and their knowledge of the undead knew right away that Bela had taken down the ‘Dark Father.’ Around her broken, lifeless body laid the corpses of at least a few dozen undead minions. The men extricated her remains from the bodies and laid her on the stretcher they’d brought, hoping to find her alive but injured. A white shroud was laid over her body before she was brought in through the gates of the village.
Women wept as they heard the news of the Champion’s passing, men toasted to her in the streets and taverns, and within the castle walls, a feast would be held in her honor.
“Today, on the 12th day of our Spring Season, we celebrate the memory of a blessed warrior of the light. She was a champion of righteousness and valor, shedding light into the darkest of places. Henceforth, this day will be known as the Day of the Light Maiden, in honor of our fallen hero, Belamica Darkthorn. May the Father take you up into his shinning embrace and reward you for your courageous deeds against the darkness. Forever will you ring true into our memories…”
Within the depths of the castle, the shroud covered corpse of the elven maiden was being cried over. The blind Maester held the cold hand of the woman he loved. Never had he told her of his feelings, knowing he wouldn’t be an equal match for such a beauty. Though he’d never seen her, they had spoken for hours over ale on numerous occasions, and from those times he had seen her as truly as if he had eyes.
“Belamica, I do not wish to see your tomb shrouded in gold…and I know you would not either. I will take you to the Hollow Hills, where you always wished to visit, and lay your body to rest there. It’s beauty is almost fitting for the likes of you, my maiden.”
The words were whispered and by the time the men of the king’s guard came to fetch the body in the morning, nothing would look out of place. Skulls from the catacombs and bones from there as well were used to dupe the guard as Maester Jamon secured ride for him and his ‘mother’s’ remains across the shinning sea. It was weeks before he found a proper burial place, villagers assuring him it would be a beautiful place to be laid to rest. Only once he laid her out in her tomb, deep within the Hollow Hills, did he allow himself to grieve once more. With her sword and emblem of the Father buried with her, Maestor Jamon paid village men to seal up the tomb. Once the job was done, he promptly poisoned their dinner. No one could know of the location of his dearest’s tomb, no vile hand would marr her ever again.
I really like that idea as well. Superstitious lot of people back then so it would easy for them to think they were devil spawn or witches.
(Note: Streaks in her hair come in varying colors, usually green or red, and always bright)
Name: Naka Vejay
Codename: Element
Age: 18
Place of Birth: Sibiu, Romania
Occupation: Troublemaker
Family: Uncle Boamos and Aunt Analetta
Relationship Status: TBD
Mutant Ability: Naka has the unique ability to harness the elements around her, her main strength coming in the element of earth. She can coax plants and trees from the earth on short notice and very quickly. The vines can be used to incapacitate or as a tool to reach enemies or places high up. Most of her abilities fall into the realm of earth. When under a great deal of stress (ex: life/ death situation) she can be called upon to cause a crack in the earth, but once this is done, she would be out for the rest of the fight. Because most of her powers are plant based, Naka herself is like a plant. If denied water, sunlight and fresh air, she can die.
Personality and History: Naka is a party kid, it comes from not wanting to be home. As a baby Naka's mother abandoned her to her extended gypsy family. Her aunt and uncle took her in and soon after moved to the US to have a better life for their adopted child. Naka can a be a bit of a wild child. She likes to get her way and usually has the wiles and guts to pull it off. Her abilities didn't surface until she was around 13, and when they did, she was horrified. Her aunt and uncle told her to hide it, to suppress the feelings and want to be outside and growing things. So, Naka changed almost over night. She became a raver girl, going out to clubs, sneaking out her window and drinking away the urges. This worked well for her until she was 17 and her adoptive parents kicked her out of the house after finding a stash of illegal drugs and empty liquor bottles in her room. Since then Naka's been using her street smarts to keep herself safe and alive. When she was just a few weeks from her 18th birthday, a guy who she sold some drugs to had told her about the institute, and Naka vowed she wouldn't go there unless absolutely needed. A fight ensued on the night before her birthday, leaving a bruised and bloody Naka to try and find somewhere safe to hide, it seemed a few of her clients had a problem with the strength of the items she was supplying them. Naka gave almost as good as she got, using her abilities to escape, she knew she had no choice but to seek safety at this 'mutant haven' at least until she was healed.
Extra: Naka is usually the life of the party type and tends to be the one who people go to when they want illegal substances.
The torture went on for hours, and by sunrise, the former paladin was a bleeding heap. The chains fastened tightly around her wrist were the only thing keeping her standing, her knees had given out hours ago. With her left eye swollen shut, Bela fell to the ground as the chains were released from the wall. Her wrists still bound, the ‘Dark Father’ spoke. He’d been silent through the entirety of the torture, and so had Bela. Never once had she cried out, only did her lips move in prayer to the light. She didn’t care about her life, but she couldn’t go to the grave knowing this monster still lived another hour. If she would die, she was going to take the bastard with her. She was good at playing injured, or showing pain where she felt none, the man must think he had her in the palm of her hand.
“Are you ready now to face your final Master? Death?” he asked as he put a long gray finger under her bloody chin, and Bela lifted her head just enough to spit into the man’s face. “I will face it, but not alone.” She used all her strength to launch herself at the man, knocking him off balance and onto the dirty cave floor.
But even as he fell, Bela didn’t rest, her body landed on top of the dazed master, and she could hear him whispering spells. With both hands Bela took the man’s head and slammed it sharply into the cave floor, the whispering faltered then, but his hands fell to his sides. Even as she felt the blood leak from his head, Bela could hear the sounds of footsteps.
With little energy left, the paladin groped in the darkness for something, a blade he’d used to flay her skin, it was sickly sharp and was just the thing she needed to cut the dark master’s head off. The spells stopped falling from his lips as a sickening sound filled the room, a man gurgling on his own blood, as the paladin kicked the man’s now severed head away from her.
They were coming, his children, and with a small knife in her hand, Belamica pulled herself up. Within her, she knew her final hours were coming to a close, and no matter how good she was at pretending, the Light was ebbing. The man had flayed her legs and arms, cut away most of her clothing and left gaping wounds in her side. In the darkness she could see her blood, glittering and shining in the torch light he’d acquired.
“The light is the bane of darkness…”
She grumbled as she held the small blade in her shaking hand. The footsteps were growing closer now, and Bela knew there had to be hundreds of undead marching to tear her apart.
“With the light we will shepherd the flock…”
She could feel the tears as she recited the prayer of the light, the knife in her hand the only important thing now.
“And shelter them in the glow of the Father. May the light bless me…” she whispered the last part as the undead filtered through the two entrances to the cave. “and fill me with your holy might. So shall it be until the end!” She pushed out into the crowd and took as many with her as she could before they swarmed her.
Belamica Darkthorn died a hero, her valor was told of by kings and princes, songs were sung of how she ended the undead plague the ‘Dark Father’ had unleashed upon the land, and like so many hero’s, her songs faded as did the memory of her great deeds.
“Are you ready now to face your final Master? Death?” he asked as he put a long gray finger under her bloody chin, and Bela lifted her head just enough to spit into the man’s face. “I will face it, but not alone.” She used all her strength to launch herself at the man, knocking him off balance and onto the dirty cave floor.
But even as he fell, Bela didn’t rest, her body landed on top of the dazed master, and she could hear him whispering spells. With both hands Bela took the man’s head and slammed it sharply into the cave floor, the whispering faltered then, but his hands fell to his sides. Even as she felt the blood leak from his head, Bela could hear the sounds of footsteps.
With little energy left, the paladin groped in the darkness for something, a blade he’d used to flay her skin, it was sickly sharp and was just the thing she needed to cut the dark master’s head off. The spells stopped falling from his lips as a sickening sound filled the room, a man gurgling on his own blood, as the paladin kicked the man’s now severed head away from her.
They were coming, his children, and with a small knife in her hand, Belamica pulled herself up. Within her, she knew her final hours were coming to a close, and no matter how good she was at pretending, the Light was ebbing. The man had flayed her legs and arms, cut away most of her clothing and left gaping wounds in her side. In the darkness she could see her blood, glittering and shining in the torch light he’d acquired.
“The light is the bane of darkness…”
She grumbled as she held the small blade in her shaking hand. The footsteps were growing closer now, and Bela knew there had to be hundreds of undead marching to tear her apart.
“With the light we will shepherd the flock…”
She could feel the tears as she recited the prayer of the light, the knife in her hand the only important thing now.
“And shelter them in the glow of the Father. May the light bless me…” she whispered the last part as the undead filtered through the two entrances to the cave. “and fill me with your holy might. So shall it be until the end!” She pushed out into the crowd and took as many with her as she could before they swarmed her.
Belamica Darkthorn died a hero, her valor was told of by kings and princes, songs were sung of how she ended the undead plague the ‘Dark Father’ had unleashed upon the land, and like so many hero’s, her songs faded as did the memory of her great deeds.
“The undead have advanced further north, the plague has taken down entire villages now.” The king shook his head as he informed his council. Bela sat back, a golden goblet of wine in her hands. She was the only woman at the small round table. She had more than earned her place among the men, but it hadn’t been easy. Now she was the envy of most and viewed as a leader, it was something Belamica was extremely proud of.
“If you pulled your men off of the post as Northruck and Bluff’s View, then they could make sure the city would be safe until our men arrived.” They all knew what city Bela was speaking about, it had to be one of the largest beside the stronghold the king maintained. If they were overrun with the plague, the kingdom wouldn’t survive through the winter.
“Those men are deserters. They haven’t sent tell in weeks of current conditions, no doubt off in some whorehouse.” Brolin spoke, a burly, hairy beast of a man next to her. His tankard alone was the length of half of Bela’s arm, and he was well into it. Her body still ached from the fight just a week before. They had made songs about it, singing of the heroic beauty who brought down the darkness. She’d happened into a tavern and without a word from her lips was treated to round after round of drink. The men and women both sung of her new triumphs and it made Belamica uncomfortable. She didn’t want notoriety, she just wanted to avenge the light and bring glory to her heavenly father.
“Send tell to them, if we do not hear back in a week’s time, we’ll send scouts to find them. Be it at their posts or some whorehouse.” The King gave a hearty chuckle and the men around the table joined in. As the guard filed out, they parted ways for the night. It would be an early morning of drills, and Bela needed sleep. But even as she prepared for bed, a pit of dread welled in her stomach. Something wasn’t right, but the elf couldn’t put her finger on it. She didn’t hear the sound of footsteps in her dark room, and by the time the cloth slid over her mouth and nose, the woman couldn’t seem to struggle.
A dark figure held the warrior fast as she fell into his arms, within moments a second shadowed figure appeared. Without incident they carried Belamica from the castle, her lifeless form slung over the shoulder of one of the men.
She couldn’t remember anything, that is until the pain began. It felt as if someone was using her stomach as a punching bag. Slowly, the elf came around, her wrists bound above her and her feet barely touching an obsidian stone floor. “Ahh, finally…I thought perhaps I would have to kill you for you to rouse from your slumber.”
Bela squinted into the darkness but found it did nothing for her vision, the voice didn’t even sound faintly familiar. “You are to blame for the countless deaths of my minions, what have you to say?”
An icy shot of fear slammed into her heart. For years they had been searching for the Necromancer responsible for unleashing the undead, he had no name, simply known in history as ‘The Dark Father’. He represented the very thing that Bela fought against, and he had her in the palm of his hand. Bela did her best to pull at the chains holding her, but she did nothing but bruise her wrists.
“Kill me, demon spawn, I will never give you the satisfaction of breaking me. FOR THE LIGHT FILLS ME!” She bellowed, pushing past her fear.
Belamica knew without a doubt, she would die this night.
“If you pulled your men off of the post as Northruck and Bluff’s View, then they could make sure the city would be safe until our men arrived.” They all knew what city Bela was speaking about, it had to be one of the largest beside the stronghold the king maintained. If they were overrun with the plague, the kingdom wouldn’t survive through the winter.
“Those men are deserters. They haven’t sent tell in weeks of current conditions, no doubt off in some whorehouse.” Brolin spoke, a burly, hairy beast of a man next to her. His tankard alone was the length of half of Bela’s arm, and he was well into it. Her body still ached from the fight just a week before. They had made songs about it, singing of the heroic beauty who brought down the darkness. She’d happened into a tavern and without a word from her lips was treated to round after round of drink. The men and women both sung of her new triumphs and it made Belamica uncomfortable. She didn’t want notoriety, she just wanted to avenge the light and bring glory to her heavenly father.
“Send tell to them, if we do not hear back in a week’s time, we’ll send scouts to find them. Be it at their posts or some whorehouse.” The King gave a hearty chuckle and the men around the table joined in. As the guard filed out, they parted ways for the night. It would be an early morning of drills, and Bela needed sleep. But even as she prepared for bed, a pit of dread welled in her stomach. Something wasn’t right, but the elf couldn’t put her finger on it. She didn’t hear the sound of footsteps in her dark room, and by the time the cloth slid over her mouth and nose, the woman couldn’t seem to struggle.
A dark figure held the warrior fast as she fell into his arms, within moments a second shadowed figure appeared. Without incident they carried Belamica from the castle, her lifeless form slung over the shoulder of one of the men.
She couldn’t remember anything, that is until the pain began. It felt as if someone was using her stomach as a punching bag. Slowly, the elf came around, her wrists bound above her and her feet barely touching an obsidian stone floor. “Ahh, finally…I thought perhaps I would have to kill you for you to rouse from your slumber.”
Bela squinted into the darkness but found it did nothing for her vision, the voice didn’t even sound faintly familiar. “You are to blame for the countless deaths of my minions, what have you to say?”
An icy shot of fear slammed into her heart. For years they had been searching for the Necromancer responsible for unleashing the undead, he had no name, simply known in history as ‘The Dark Father’. He represented the very thing that Bela fought against, and he had her in the palm of his hand. Bela did her best to pull at the chains holding her, but she did nothing but bruise her wrists.
“Kill me, demon spawn, I will never give you the satisfaction of breaking me. FOR THE LIGHT FILLS ME!” She bellowed, pushing past her fear.
Belamica knew without a doubt, she would die this night.
© 2007-2024