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Dead sands.
Posted: 03 Sep 2007 06:31 PM |
They knew their jobs. And they would do them to the letter, without a word of question or concern in between them.
Johe's job was to Guyver, and Tristian's job was to defend the Guyver as he was Guyver'in everything he could. It was simple, and effective. There was no place for questions; it was either do or don't.
Such was the case when Tristian found the hin face first in the sands of the Kobai desert, merely a few feet from the gate that led to the ruins of Buckshire, and possibly what could have been a narrow escape. However, Johe was not granted this reprieve, and Tristian went on active duty, his blades springing to life, moving against the undead that had downed him, preventing the "blessed undead" from taking the halfling further into the sands, possibly to be re-animated and placed among the ranks of James.
The sword of gnomish design cleaved through the ghouls, the walking construct of corpses, and the summoned vampire. Without considering why Johe was in such a place, or what his intent was, the hin was immediately lifted off of the ground, and moved with near-blinding speed to the nearest source of divine spark that Tristian knew of. Aleacca, of the Artio.
It had taken a few times for Aleacca to finally breathe life into the hin's fragmented body: Balthor and Tristian watched with hopeful breaths has Aleacca finally got Johe to exhale, and then stand up on his own two feet.
Tristian moved to heal the hin through blessings, while Johe stood there with a grin, and merely stated: "Runnin' a lil' late taday are ya?" |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Choosing the music or the dance
Posted: 04 Sep 2007 11:53 PM |
My Dear Friend, Johe,
It has been a few days since last we spoke, and I do hope this letter finds you well. Much has happened in that time, and (Here the ink is smudged lightly before continuing) I would like to meet with you at your earliest convenience. There is someone I would like you to meet, someone I should have told you about previously, I see now. In truth, (The ink is smudged again) there is much I might say to you on the subject, but no explanation that now seems worthy of my trust in you. I do hope to see you once more soon, and in good health.
Currently I am staying at the palace, and can be reached there at your convenience, if I cannot be found in the usual places. Please reach me when you can.
As Always, Your Friend,
M
Please remember, Johe, how dear you are to me.
On his way back to Port from Aleacca's tent, where the Hunter had taken him, They had bumped into Ophelia who had blurted out that Macha had gotten married. For reasons he himself couldn't grasp, this had reddened his angry ears and sent him stalking to the guyver store to brood. Finding the note in his mail box had not improved his mood. He frowned at the note as he placed it gently on the table. She had been talking of him letting her go. Talking about how an elf can only love once, and how the loss of that love was turning her into something she didn't want to be.
And now?
Married?
He squinted down at the note in deep thought. If she really loved this fellow, he should be happy for her happiness... If a little annoyed at the lies that her happiness insinuated. Lies like specifically why she had rejected him so very long ago when it appeared that she COULD love again... His eyes flashed dangerously, but before he allowed his heart and mind to travel further down that path, another possibility showed itself... Was she setting this fellow up as prey? If she was... what was a guyver expected to do about it? He had the "deaders" in the desert to help with while he waited for the Shadow to answer his message. If he tried to delve into just what the devil she was up to and the Shadow called? What would he do then? Was it happening the way Cora had predicted so long ago when he had told her a part of him would always belong to the bardess?
"Someday you're going to have to choose between us, " he heard her sultry voice in his head as he closed his eyes painfully," who will it be Johe?"
He sighed hanging his head.
If this was some elaborate hunt that would lead to the exit from Vives she had been wanting, then He was the only one that could save her, because, he was certain, he was the only one that knew. But his thoughts went back to their conversation near the Standing Stones the day of Tagreth's funeral. She had beseeched him to let her go, begged him to let her end the pain. A part of him had even feared that she wanted him to be the one to do it. As he had walked away from that conversation, looking up at the bursting clouds to disguise his tears with rain drops, he had realized to his surprise, that he loved her enough to end it for her if she wanted him to. And, he supposed, if he still felt that way, he could still do that for her... by doing nothing. |
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Ralphi
Posted: 21 Sep 2007 05:07 PM |
He sat at the old desk and smirked darkly at what he must look like. A black clad hin. A nimble fingered, quick witted, darkly gifted, determined one, but... in the end... just a little hin. He wondered what Mother Jaxon, or old man Rafferty would think of him if they saw him now, the path he was ready and willing to take for...her.
"The mighty guyver felled by love." the remembered voice of an old paladin wafted through the corridors of his darkened mind.
He frowned at the map of the Kobai as he flipped it face down with a disgusted sneer. They had retrieved the icy ball and hidden it safely from the Avatar, but the dry sands of the Kobai still belonged to the "deders"... And, so did Ralfi *. He looked down at his hands with a guilty look. He had promised Ralphi he'd get him out of there somehow, but with everything that had transpired over the years, that promise had fallen to the floor of his memory with a hollow clatter. Meeting the little girl who had given them the ice ball had brought it all back to him, years too late. He looked over his shoulder and squinted into the shadows. The Shadow had yet to respond to his message, and all his preparations for that final confrontation with the ones who kept his Cora from him were made. Purhaps... he stood and reached for his short bow and the quiver of arrows leaning up against the desk... purhaps, before he walked into dark hate to find his love, he had time to do one more favor for the light.
He walked out of the apartment with a nostalgic smile.
"Wun more game o' paladuns an' gobberlins ole fren'?" he muttered as his black boots slipped into shadow.
* Page one of this thread. Post title " A Disturbing Memory." |
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Loose Ends
Posted: 04 Oct 2007 10:22 AM |
A black clad halfling sat in the garden at the Seven Sisters looking rather out of place among the flowers and plants. He looked at the rippling surface of the small pond and heaved a small sigh. Ellea had spent a lot of time here during her recovery, and now she was gone. He found himself wondering where she might be. Wondering if all the efforts he had taken to avenge her... Wondering if all the blood he had drawn, and shed in her name had done anything to make her feel better. Ellea had been a first step on the road he found himself on. In times of doubt, or weakness, he would come here to watch her among the flowers, his resolve to fight the evils of Vives always revitalized by the silent pain that marred her once pretty face. But now... she was gone, and he was left alone to consider what he had really accomplished. After years of sweat and blood, was Vives any the better? The dark dwarves were certainly up to something, and surely had the Atalan in their corner. Some "deder" going by the name of James, had the Kobai firmly in his grasp, and more than likely had Ralfi, and thousands of stolen children with him. Who knew what else was infesting the world he had promised an old paladin he would help make better so many years ago.
Now he found himself in this garden of lost inspiration, with little to show for his efforts. He had never actually told him, but the only guyver who was actively looking for the enemy, and coming up with missions that needed a sneak, or a trap sweeper, was mister Vike. Under the pretense of "looking for clues" or "keeping an eye on the meenies". All he had truly done was dance among the silent, malignant shadows. Waiting for the Shadow to answer his call, and bring him to the place where he would wage his final battle for Cora's soul. He looked down at his hands guiltily. He had spent a little time looking for Ralfi in the Kobai, but then had passed the task on to the Hunter. His obsession with Cora pushing his other concerns out of his mind. But, for some reason, here in this place of tranquility, they rose to the surface and stared at him accusingly.
He knew his battle with the shadows could well be his last, and yet, he realized looking into the still water of the pond, he was leaving some loose ends that could not be left. There was Ophelia. Yes, she was more than capable of taking care of herself in this life, but he still considered her his responsibility, and he knew what the Sugar man had planned for her when she reached the end of her road. This was unacceptable. He needed to turn his mind to a way of helping her, and it needed to be a secret one as the curse made it impossible to even discuss the soul stealer in front of her without her experiencing horrible, blood lipped agony. He nodded slowly as another of his "impossible plans" began to take shape in his mind. His lips twisted in an evil grin. He had always been able to take things away from the meenies, why should Ophelia's soul be any different?
Yes... He nodded and smiled again as he picked a small yellow flower from a nearby plant and tossed it into the water... Ophelia, and, with a little help from the Hunter, Ralfi would be stolen back, and maybe he would leave the inventory of the guyver store to mister Salt. He chuckled at this. If anyone would appreciate the interesting things he had aquired over the years it would be the old man. Macha? He raised a small eyebrow. Well, Macha had what she wanted one way or another, he supposed there was little he could do to augment that. He turned and headed back to Port with a new determination in his black eyes. And of course for the Vike... nothing. The hint of a wry smile touched his cheeks. The hunter would not accept anything less. |
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End Game (prelude)
Posted: 27 Nov 2007 05:11 PM |
A shadow stirred near the cold embers in the fire place that sat gloomily in the guyver's bedroom. It gathered a few logs from the pile of wood that Zigzig had likely placed there weeks ago in anticipation of his masters return. The shadow placed the logs in the grate, the only sound in the room being the soft sizzle of the ash slipping to the stone floor. A whispered incantation later and the glow of the flames tore the shroud of shadow from him like a hungry street whore earning her supper. The flickering light danced on his face giving it the appearance of marble. His skin was pale, the paleness of not seeing the sun for weeks. He sat down on the couch and gazed into the fire, his deep set eyes glimmering with dark thoughts.
It had taken much doing to get the belt for Ophelia, but it had been worth every drop of sweat and blood. A faint smile crossed his gaunt features. He closed his eyes and laid his head back allowing the smile on his lips to widen as he watched the trap spring in his mind.
Yes. When the Sugarman's temptress came and took Ophelia to wherever the hells they existed, the magiks of the belt would wipe those disgusting sneers right off their bloody mouthed faces. He nodded slowly as he opened his eyes again. The joy in his eyes faded as if slurped out by the thirsty shadows that clung to the air in the room. He had taken care of his obligations, done what he had to do to ease his conscience. Now...? Now it was time to die.
He had spent so much time in the shadows trying to find her, so much time trying to find out more about him, it had sucked out what little was left of him after she had left. He had been in dire straits before, been beaten to within an inch of his life and more, but he had always come back from the depths, stronger and more determined than ever. This time was different. He felt the shadows clawing at him trying to pull him back to them even now. Their cold presence around his heart like a wet towel over the face after hours of running for your life. The Dark Dreamer,( he had found out after days of being in their company), was his enemy's real name, and the powers that this name inferred sent the warning flags waving madly in his mind. He would be foolish to think that the Dreamer didn't know full well what he was planning. As to why the Dreamer had called him to the Temple of Menarok anyway? He shrugged slightly as his thoughts argued and babbled in his head, his vacant eyes making him a stranger to his own mind. What did it matter? It was most likely for his own sick entertainment. Or, probably, to torment him one last time with how dedicated Cora was to him, before he killed the guyver, or imprisoned him in shadow forever. He got up from the couch and walked slowly to the chest of drawers that held his gear. It really didn't matter anymore. All the time he had spent in the shadows chasing his quarry, his "quarry" had been sapping him of everything that made him a threat. A small, insignificant threat, but a threat just the same. And now, all he had left was his love for a girl he hadn't seen for months. No more righteous anger. No more helping the helpless. Just a dire need to see her just one last time, and maybe, just maybe, if there was any guyver luck left in this empty vessel, have one last chance to save her from the Dark Dream and from herself.
He reached into a drawer and took out his armor. As he had done countless times before, he turned to the mirror and put it on, checking and tightening each strap and buckle.
I've been thinking of everything
I used to want to be
I've been thinking of everything
Of me, of you and me
This is the story of my life
These are the lies I have created
This is the story of my life
These are the lies I have created
A black eyebrow quirked over a shimmering black eye. He had expected that voice to be long dead and longer silent. He shook his head as he laid his blades and scabbards on the floor and began rubbing them with blackening oil.
I'm in the middle of nothing
And it's where I want to be
I'm at the bottom of everything
And I finally start to leave
A small flame of determination flickered in his eyes as he stood and slid his blades into his armor.
This is the story of my life
These are the lies I have created
I created
And I swear to god
I found myself in you
Then I swear to god
I lost myself in you
But I swear to god
I'll find myself in the end
I swear to god
I'll find myself in the end
In the end
In the end
In the end
He drew his blades with a flourish and resheathed them with a grim smile. It was time. The Dark Dreamer wanted him at the Temple of Menarok, and as a sign of the guyver's good faith he had to get there under his own power. He gave his reflection a long hard look, and then nodded with a grunt.
"So be it then." he said as he turned on his heels and stalked through the door, "A snowball's chance in 'ell's betta 'n nuthin' I reckon."
This is the story of my life
These are the lies I have created...
((Credits: 30 Seconds to Mars with artistic license)) |
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End Game part I
Posted: 18 Jan 2008 03:20 PM |
He had been making his stealthy way through the halls of Netharu for days step by painful footstep toward the temple where his fate would be decided. If it was the Dark Dreamers intention to have him arrive exhausted it would have worked if the journey were half as long. Johe had already made the trip from fear to terror to hysteria, insanity and back again many times. The few times he had entered the Netharu it had been with trusted friends of exceptional ability and power, and now he was making his way to the deepest, darkest place in the pit, alone, and with nothing but shadows that hated him keeping him from sight.
Even on the darkest night when empty promise means empty hand
And soldiers coming home like shadows turning red
When the lights of hope are fading quickly
Then look to me
I'll be your homing angel, I'll be in your head.
Because you're lonely in your nightmare let me in.
And there's heat beneath your winter let me in.
The only thing that kept him moving on was his love for a girl who by all accounts had long forgotten him. The thought of her eyes, the remembered sound of her voice led him by the heart like a weak willed rat after poisoned cheese. His head trundled mindlessly along for the ride spouting musical words the unsatisfied bard in him murmured to keep the things he saw, and heard as far from himself as it could.
I see the delta traces living lonely out on the limb.
And a passing glimmer warm beneath your skin
Please tread gently on the ground when all around you earth turns to fire
Only get a second chance when danger's on the wind.
Because you're lonely in your nightmare let me in.
Because there's heat beneath your winter
Let me in.
A gaggle of monstrous creatures grizzled with blood, and bristled with spikes approached him from what must have been some kind of feeding frenzy. He dove into a dark crevice in the rock and waited for them to pass by, closing his eyes and trying to think of anything to keep his mind occupied as the all too familiar sick feeling of claustrophobia wrenched at his gut.
The Guyver held his finger next to the oil lamp on the table and motioned to the nearby wall with his other hand.
“Imagine this ‘ere finger is you rite?” he said with the slightest hint of exasperation in his voice as Alton nodded with a confused frown, “Best way fer me ta ‘ide an’ still git close wuld be ta ‘ide be’ind tha shadow yer castin’ rite ‘ere now wuldn’ it?”
Alton’s frown deepened as he shook his head vigorously. They had been talking about this for almost an hour now and the priest of Vilyave was still no closer to grasping the guyvers’ art.
“No it wouldn’t,” the red haired Halfling insisted, “ How can you hide behind something that isn’t even there?!” Alton waved his hand between the guyvers’ finger and the wall to emphasize his point. Johe pointed to the shadow of his finger on Altons’ outstretched hand with a smile.
“Wut’s that then?” he said with a cocky smirk.
The priest almost stood up in his chair as the blood rushed into his already reddened cheeks.
“But you can still see my bloody hand can’t you??!” he blustered.
Johe pulled his finger away and leaned back in his chair taking his “lucky mug” of ale with him as he smiled secretly. Margaret the bartender shook her head as she coughed a chuckle into her hand and gave up on eaves dropping long enough to find a somewhat clean rag, and start wiping down the bar.
“Tha’s cus ya ain’ doin’ it rite.” The guyver said with a grin.
“Well then how are you SUPPOSED to do it then?” Alton retorted.
“Regular folks think shadows is seamless an’ ded,” the guyver began, “ Fact is, neether uf them idea’s is true. Yasee, shadows is awlways movin’, awlways doin’ wuteva we do.” he waved his hand around next to the lamp again; looking at the shadow it cast mimicking his movements on the nearby wall.
“Tha’ makes ‘em as alive as you or me, an’ if they’s alive an’ movin’ then they can’t be seamless now can they?” he flashed his old friend and nemesis a coy look as he hopped from his chair and walked around the table to stand next to Alton. The diminutive priest looked down at him from his perch, his lips pursed.
“With a LOTTA practice,” said Johe as he reached up with a hand moving it from side to side as if caressing something invisible, “Ya c’n find them seams, an’ with a lot MORE practice ya c’n learn ‘ow ta grab ‘em an’ slip be’ind ‘em.” With that the guyver disappeared much to the chagrin of the priest.
“Alright, alright,” Alton muttered rolling his eyes as Johe reappeared with a smirk. “And here I always thought you were waving at us like some cocky bastard before you’d disappear.”
“Nope,” said Johe flatly, “gotta find ‘em b’fore ya c’n pul ‘em far enough ta squeeze b’hind ‘em.” Alton nodded with a thoughtful wrinkle on his brow.
“It just seems sooo…” Altons eyes drifted to the rafters as if searching for the word he wanted to say, “…so impossible! I mean, ripping up shadows so you can hide behind them to sneak up on an enemy and stick him in the back before he even knows you’re there?… c’mon.”
“Oh?” the black clad Halfling countered, a dangerous lilt to his voice, “and, foldin’ yer ‘ands an’ yappin fer a minute ta sumwun wut tha rest uf us can’t see an’ then some ded fella pops up like Candy outta a cake? That don’ soun’ impossible to ya?”
The sound of the horde faded off into the distance, but the sickening smell lingered. He extricated himself from his cramped hiding place and headed down the hall, the memory persisting in his head.
The two sat in silence. The blasphemy would have sent Alton into battle rage had anyone else uttered it, but he knew Johe meant nothing disrespectful by it. That was just the colorful way that he spoke and thought. Besides… he scratched at the smile pulling at his lips with a frown… it was a rather amusing picture his words had painted.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea messing with the shadows,” Alton intoned, the hint of warning sharpening his words as his frown deepened.
“An’ why’s tha’?” the guyver asked not looking up from his ale
“Well…” the priest ran his fingers through his hair, “It’s no secret that most Shadow Dancers work for Menarok.”
Johe looked up from his beer squinting at the name.
“If the shadows belong to Menarok, you can never truly be hidden,” Alton continued darkly, “because if you’re hiding behind my shadow, I might not see you, but my shadow does, and if the shadow sees you,” Alton leaned closer to his friend his voice lowered to a whisper,” Then you can bet your hind end Menarok sees you, and THAT might not be such a good idea…”
The guyver smiled darkly at the memory peering around the corner at the two demonic creatures walking slowly toward him embroiled in what seemed to be a serious discourse about the best way to prepare children, the benefits of slow roasting over poaching, and which race of child was the most desirable. Alton’s words nagged in his skull as he reached for the shadows and pulled them around himself, wincing almost audibly at the dry chuckles they breathed into his small ears. The Dark Dreamer wanted him to make his own way to the Temple of Menarok, but could this just be an elaborate trap? Would he wrap himself in shadow to hide from some vile resident that roamed the underground caverns that led to that place, only to have that shadow laugh and skitter away from his grasp singing and pointing at him, naked in the glowing lights…
“Free Halfling, come get yer tasty Halfling HERE!!”
He closed his eyes and waited for the “culinary experts” to pass, doing his best to keep his breathing steady and slow. They turned the corner as he slipped in the opposite direction and tore the shadows from himself with the desperation of a drowning man coming up for air. Before, when the shadows had been a silent tool of his trade, he would have gone all the way to the temple shrouded in shadow. That was a lifetime away. Before the darkness had realized what he was doing with their “gift”. Before the shadows started mocking him every time he used them for cover. Before they became aware that he had no intentions of joining the ranks of Menarok, and THAT, he assumed, was the reason why the Dark Dreamer had started this vendetta against him in the first place.
Shadow and darkness had been his preferred means of travel considering the circles he tended to travel in… but now… He shook the last remnants of cloying shade from his fingers, like a Buckshire resident kicking that unexpected sole full of ox dung from his shoe before entering Doc McGillicutty’s…. now it was a painful necessity. He moved silently down the tunnel peering intently into the darkness ahead. There had to be SOME way to use the shadows and hide from them as well. What was the point of making ones way through the world by stealth if the very shadows that hid you could turn you in? If they had THAT kind of power over the stealthy then it only stood to reason that they would HAVE to serve the shadows that hid them. Where was the point in that? He sighed shaking his head angrily. His mind started to toy with ideas of mirrors or using shadows within shadows. Some of them seemed quite plausible and possible, his head swam in excitement, but his heart brought him back to the present. He shook his head again and continued down the tunnel. With any luck…one way or another… this would be his last dance with the shadows. All he had to do was go and get what was rightfully his and go home to the Guyver Store and retire. He had given enough. It was time to cut his losses, grab onto what was truly important, and never let go. He nodded as he came to another bend in the tunnel and peered around it slowly. The tunnel opened into a vast cavern, and there it was in all its dark, horrific glory, the Temple of Menarok. He leaned against the rough wall checking his equipment and taking a deep breath going over and over the plan in his head. Win or lose his fear was meaningless. He couldn’t go on without her, and he couldn’t have her without going on. He pushed off from the wall and sauntered toward the temple with a mysterious smile decorating his pale face.
Must be lucky weather when you find the kind of wind that you need
C'mon show me all the light and shade that made your name
I know you've got it in your head
I've seen that look before
You've built your refuge
Turns you captive all the same
Because you're lonely in your nightmare let me in...
And it's barren in your garden let me in.
Because there's heat beneath your winter
Let me in.
Because you're so lonely in your nightmare
Let me in.
And it's cold out on your stone range let me in.
Because there's heat beneath your winter let me in.
Yes… with any luck at all… it would all be over very very soon…
((Credits: Duran Duran… Veran you KNEW I couldn’t make it through this whole story without going to them at LEAST once )) |
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End Game part II
Posted: 14 Feb 2008 09:50 AM |
The doors to the temple groaned open at his tentative touch. The living shadows turned to the entrance as if they were a multitude of marionettes controlled by the same string. He lowered his head slowly in greeting, as each shadowy member of the dark congregation raised an arm and pointed to a door near the large raised dais at the front of the temple. He nodded again in understanding and walked deliberately toward the door taking the time to look into the red orb eyes in each of the nearby heads that swiveled to follow him as he passed.
A black mist roiled on the floor as he approached the door, so thick and cloying that he could almost feel it suck at his boots and impede his progress. The door to the Dark Dreamer's anti chamber opened slowly and silently as if heaved by the shadowy mists that billowed around it. He walked slowly to the doorway reaching for the reassuring touch of the cloak that was an integral part of his plan. He squinted to peer through the inky smoke that hung in the doorway like river mud curtains but all he saw were the plumes of mist that boiled and melted into each other before him.
"Come in my prize," the familiar deep voice of the Dreamer vibrated the raised hairs on his neck and bristled in his head.
He hung his head for a moment, blinking and chewing on the inside of his lower lip. Was the Dark Dreamer playing with him? Was there a trap on the other side of this wall of blackness? Then he smiled coyly to himself....
At this point of the game did it even matter?
He took a deep, silent breath and stepped through the dark fog.
The moment of blackness was a split second in duration, but absolute. He blinked, stunned for a moment by it. Rafferty had often spoken of the "light of righteousness", so bright and so piercing, that it could awaken a speck of goodness in a treasure horde of evil deeds. He found himself wondering if true light could do such a thing... what could true darkness do?
... What had it done?
He shivered the thought away as he raised his head to look around the room he had been in once before. The same ruby orbs in faces of shade glowered at him sullenly. Past them stood the great shadow, the one who waited for him patiently, the Dark Dreamer.
He rubbed his thumbs and forefingers together briefly walking through the throng of shadows toward the Dreamer fixing his black eyes on the glowing red ones that hung in the shapeless face of his quarry.
"So, my Guyver Knight," the Dark Dreamer's voice licked around the title like a fearless serpent tongue disdainful of a mere desert rat, "You have an answer for me? Will it be you, or your Cora?"
The black clad Halfling cleared his throat almost imperceptably as he stepped in front of the dark figure, and looked up into the glowing orbs that stared emotionlessly down at him. He took a small breath.
"Neetha." he said with a wink, grinning broadly at the brightening of the orbs as the shadow's head jerked back slightly in surprise.
He reached deftly into his cloak and activated the Time Stop spell.
"One...two...three..." he breathed to himself as he set to work.
"Four...five...six..." He hadn't been able to practice it for fear of the shadows seeing him and reporting back to the Dark Dreamer, but he had gone over it countless times in his head.
"Seven...eight...nine..." The ropes enchanted with eternal light were wrapped around the Dark Dreamer.
"Ten...elev'n...twelve..." He poured the vials of water enchanted with eternal light in a wide arc around his quarry.
"Thirteen...fourteen...!" He finished pouring the water dropping the vials as they emptied, the tension of his waning time in timelessness sounding in the shattering of the glass, and the timber of his voice.
"FIFTEEN!" He scampered behind the Dark Dreamer, drawing his blades which glowed bright with magiks and light, holding them to his shadowy nemesis' back.
An audible sigh of moving air swished through the chamber as the flow of time resumed. The shadows stepped forward with dark fury, only to recoil at the lit liquid at their feet.
"Tha's rite ya bastads!" Johe nodded indignantly, "If'n ya wants smudgy 'ere ta liv yer gonna be bringin' me my Cora rite... bloody... NOW!"
The chamber fell into silence as each ruby orb turned to the Dark Dreamer awaiting an answer to its silent question. The answer surprised both the Dark Dreamers' minions, and his captor. The answer came as a long, slow, dry chuckle that crawled up the spine like a thousand mantis legs that brought a shudder to the shoulders.
"Truly an ingenious plan little hin," the Dreamer droned deprecatingly, "Tell me...do you know why desert traders pour oil on the surface of their barrels of water?"
The guyver frowned at this, then looked up at the movement of the shadow horde as it inched closer.
Then it dawned on him...
The moat of light between him and them was evaporating. |
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End Game part III
Posted: 26 Feb 2008 06:20 PM |
The black clad guyver gripped his blades tightly, his knuckles protruding from his fingerless gloves like boils ready to erupt. The faintly glowing mist that dissipated above his makeshift moat made it obvious he had precious little time to negotiate. He increased the pressure of his sword tips on the Dark Dreamer's back. He glared at the encroaching shadows menacingly as he responded to the Dark Dreamers veiled threat.
" You in a 'urry ta die then are ya?" he seethed through clenched teeth, " I reckon ya outta worry more 'bout gettin' Cora 'ere th'n 'ow much light is in tha room."
"That would be my top priority oh mighty guyver," The Dreamer mocked, " were it not for the fact that she isn't here."
Johe bit hard on the inside of his cheek in a vain attempt to hide the angry surprise that his eyes betrayed. Not here? This was the dark stain she had sold her soul to! If she wasn't here then where the hells had she been all this time? Or was the Dark Dreamer lying? If so...why?
"Bluddy 'ell's." he breathed, squinting as a drop of sweat slithered into his eye the salt stinging as it blurred his sight.
"You arrogant fool," the Dreamer chuckled dryly, " Did you really think that you and I were the only men in her life?"
The words struck the guyver squarely in the chest. He drew in a sharp, involuntary breath.
"She was, and always will be a whore," the shadow continued, a dark crust of contempt coating his words, " servicing, and forming trysts of salacious trust with whatever mark she can suck dry. But you ,mighty guyver..." the chuckle that escaped the Dark Dreamer was like a volley of cannon fire on the halfling's already battered soul, " You will ALWAYS be the most ridiculous of us all, the one and only of us that dared to think she ACTUALLY loved you?" The chuckling turned to guffaws of laughter. The magically lit ropes shaking and creaking under the strain.
Hopelessness, sadness, and anger ran around the maypole of his mind until they crashed together in a cloud of insane rage. The guyver opened his mouth to speak.
"Yer a fukin' liar," was all that squeaked out as he tried to compose himself, increasing the pressure of his blades.
He wiped his brow on his sleeve, his mind racing in circles. He HAD to gain control of the battle that was raging inside his brain. The only reason the Dreamer would goad him with those words had to be to soil any victory against him which meant that victory was indeed possible...right? The doubts creeping through the dark recesses shouted a resounding NO. He shook his head violently. No...she was here... she HAD to be. Lies...LIES...LIES were all this bastard had and dealt.
The question was what to do now?
"Well...this is... interesting.", the sultry voice wafted from the darkness, confusing his body with sensations of fire, ice, and electricity.
He peered around his hostage as she slinked toward them with the silky footsteps of a stalking jaguar.
"Cora." he breathed as a frustrated tear fell from his twitching eye and splashed onto his shaking hand.
She glanced him over briefly, starting at his boots, she brought her gaze slowly up, tearing her eyes away, looking to the Dark Dreamer before she reached his face. The guyver took a slow, deep breath in a vain attempt to ease the ache that screamed like a prisoner in his rib cage. Words failed him. All he could do was stare at her, eyes wide, searching, searching for any sign that maybe...just maybe she still cared. She stepped in front of them close enough to smell the scent of orchids.
"So... ' she said seductively, looking up into the Dark Dreamer's face, "why is it you're still toying with this worthless bastard?"
Johe looked down to hide the sting of her words on his face.
"We both know you could have ended him years ago," she continued calmly as she reached under her cloak, " Were you waiting for me to do it?"
She graced the Dark Dreamer with a sly smirk as she pulled out a black blade of such deep darkness, the dimming room seemed brighter just because it was unsheathed. The guyver cleared his throat roughly his eyes moving in his skull as if to find SOME way to fix the situation from the whirling ideas that careened around his head. He just needed more bloodyTIME. She could kill him. HELLS he'd bare his chest and stand still before her if that was what she wanted. But FIRST he needed some time, just a MINUTE with her alone.
The Dark Dreamer chuckled deeply.
"Quite so my dear," he rumbled as the light ropes snapped and became a cloud of dust, "I was just growing tired of the game before you arrived."
Johe watched the glowing dust drift slowly to the stone floor. He had known... Deep down inside he had always known that this was how it would end.
"When you love unconditionally, you trust unconditionally, beware who you love."
The remembered words of his long gone mentor echoed.
He sighed shaking his head slowly.
He would let her kill him. He had no problem with it.
But he'd be D A M N E D if he'd let her do it without kissing him goodbye...
... He reached into his second cloak...
...She raised her blade...
...A group of people dressed in black appeared behind the shadows brandishing daggers and swords...
...The Dark Dreamer raised an inky arm and pointed toward the door...
...The guyver activated the cloak, and time stood still...
He hoisted his prize over his shoulder and moved to the doorway as fast as he could. One way or another they would be together in the end. |
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She said...
Posted: 28 Feb 2008 10:24 PM |
.
Cora raised the blade...
This was it.
In a moment he would finally be out of her life... for good.
Then everything went dark.
‘NO!!!!!!!!!’
Her mind screamed in frustration as she gripped the blade tightly, and began to search the darkness for some clue of what just happened.
The instinct to start thrashing about the darkness with the blade was strong, but she couldn’t risk hitting the wrong target.
Then she noticed someone was nearby, breathing heavily, as if trying to catch their breath.
“So 'ere we are cyfi,” the voice of the guyver rasped, “ya wern' gonna put me outta me misery without a kiss ferst were ya?”
He looked up at her, his hands on his knees as he took one more gulp of air, and stood before her his hands at his sides.
A look of utter disbelief crossed her face, mixed with anger and frustration...
Cora looked down at the blade in her hand.
For a moment, it seemed she was aware of nothing else but the dagger she held.
She looked up at him, as a wry smirk slowly crept across her face. Cora tossed the dagger aside, never taking her eyes off Johe, walked over to him slowly, and kissed him more deeply than it seemed she ever had before.
~*~
The blade was unlike any other.
As if it had no physical substance at all... it was like holding the shadow of a dagger, but the dagger itself was nowhere to be found.
It wasn’t just a blade shrouded in darkness. However, it was also more than just a shadow of a blade... when it was unsheathed, it actually seemed to swallow the surrounding light.
Kind of like holding the void in your hand.
Cora wondered for a moment whether Cortina had made some sort of bargain with Syn to learn secrets needed to make such a blade.
Not that it really mattered.
Whether this blade was forged from the void, or pure shadow, or just exquisitely enchanted to become what it was, she could care less.
Just as long as it did what it was created for.
This was it.
One way or another, it would end here.
After tonight, she would either be free... or dead.
Either way, problem solved.
She’d had enough of being used.
The Dreamer.
Cortina.
Jessup.
Johe.
Johe.
How could she tell him.
It seemed almost unfathomable that it could be as simple as telling him. Why would he believe her?
‘He loves you.’ The small voice spoke from deep within her.
The voice that had always been present, but so long buried... drowned out... ignored.
HER voice.
Cora smiled wistfully for a moment.
Then the gravity of what was at hand hit her and she steeled her resolve.
Gritting her teeth, she sheathed the blade and tucked it beneath her cloak.
This was it.
She focused her thoughts, preparing for the intense concentration that would be needed to remain hidden while in the same room with him.
Cora danced into the shadows... dancing out of them again, into a room she knew all too well, for what would be the last time.
Although the scene now presented was unlike any to have ever been witnessed here before.
A black clad Halfling held back the shadows all around him, and more importantly, had the Dreamer at his mercy.
Or so it appeared. One look at the Guyvers face, however, told her he wasn’t the one who was truly in control of the situation.
"She was, and always will be a whore," the shadow continued, a dark crust of contempt coating his words, "servicing, and forming trysts of salacious trust with whatever mark she can suck dry. "
The words stung. But not enough for her to loose concentration.
"But you ,mighty guyver... You will ALWAYS be the most ridiculous of us all, the one and only of us that dared to think she ACTUALLY loved you?" The chuckling turned to guffaws of laughter. The magically lit ropes shaking and creaking under the strain.
‘if only you knew’ she thought.
The Dreamer was still unaware she was there... Cortina had taught her well.
Johe was loosing ground by the second.
‘Not just yet’ she thought.
The guyver opened his mouth to speak.
"Yer a fukin' liar,"
He wiped his brow on his sleeve. For a moment he seemed lost in thought. Then He shook his head violently, as if trying to remove those thoughts from his head.
Now.
It was time to act.
She dropped the barrier within her mind.
“Well... this is... interesting.” Cora said as she stepped out of the shadows.
She could see Johe peering at her from around his “hostage” as she walked forward.
"Cora." he breathed as a tear fell from his twitching eye and splashed onto his shaking hand.
She glanced him over briefly, starting at his boots, she brought her gaze slowly up, but realized half way up that she might not be able to keep her composure if she looked him in the eye... tearing her eyes away, she looked to the Dark Dreamer before she reached his face. The guyver took a slow, deep breath. It seemed all he could do was stare at her, eyes wide, searching...
“So...” she said seductively, looking up into the Dark Dreamer's face, “why is it you're still toying with this worthless bastard?”
Johe looked down, allowing her to look over at him with a sneer.
“We both know you could have ended him years ago,” she continued calmly as she reached under her cloak, “Were you waiting for me to do it?”
She graced the Dark Dreamer with a sly smirk as she pulled the dagger from beneath her cloak. The guyver cleared his throat.
‘Just don’t do anything crazy Johe’ she thought to herself
‘well... at least not anything TOO crazy.’ Cora smirked inwardly to herself.
The Dark Dreamer chuckled deeply.
"Quite so my dear," he rumbled as the light ropes snapped and became a cloud of dust, "I was just growing tired of the game before you arrived."
Johe watched the glowing dust drift slowly to the stone floor.
Cora flipped the dagger in her hand, preparing to strike, and gripping it tightly.
...He would never see it coming.
Johe sighed shaking his head slowly and reached into his cloak...
...Cora raised her blade...
...Cortina and the others appeared all about the room behind the shadows, just as they planned... daggers and swords in hand...
...The Dark Dreamer raised an inky arm and pointed toward the door...
This was it...
Then all was black.
~*~
She had wrestled with thoughts of returning to the fight... at least to get the blade to one of the others.
Their chances were slim without it.
But what did it matter now?
She had what she wanted.
‘let them fend for themselves’ she thought. ‘I’m tired of being someone elses tool’
Breaking the kiss, she stepped back to look at Johe, caressing his face with her hand.
Seeing the look on his face, she couldn’t help but laugh.
“...I love you Johe Jaxon”
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"I'm not closed-minded, you're just WRONG." - Bucky Katt
My characters n portraits |
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Questions in the Dark
Posted: 19 Mar 2008 11:22 PM |
The guyver stood for a moment, a stunned, dream like look on his face. The sound of battle behind him shook him from his thoughts. He squinted into the darkness behind him. They were certainly having a humdinger of a fight back there if the bodies were already spilling out of the temple. His fingers itched for his blades. The knight inside him wanting to help strike this blow against the darkness. He turned to her looking into her eyes. Those eyes that had inspired him to dive headlong into danger time, and time again. The inspiration to fight was gone. A part of him melted under the black heat of her gaze. No more battle, no more blood. He had put in his time. He had expended his every effort for the cause. Now...?
All he wanted, was to see that look on her face every day for the rest of his life.
An errant arrow whizzed by them, and clattered down the tunnel they stood in.
"C'mon luv," he said with his usual carefree grin, "we ain' outta this yet."
Johe grabbed her hand and started to head away from the sounds of battle.
Cora hesitated a moment, then pulled away from him, taking a few steps to pick up the blade off the ground. She sheathed it, walked over to Johe, looked deep into his eyes, taking his hands in hers.
“Do you trust me?”
"Now there's a funny question." he said with a coy wink, "I luv ya don' I?"
Cora smiled and pulled him into an embrace, whispering softly in his ear with a slight smirk. “Just follow my lead.”
She smiled at him reassuringly, wraping her arms around him and pulling him toward her. He quirked a questioning eyebrow at her, the corners of his mouth twitching upward with the hint of a suggestive smile, but she didn't see him. Her eyes glassed over as if she was looking right through him. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as she pulled him even tighter into her body. He squinted at her with mild confusion as she took his hands and placed them gently on her hips and they began to sway to an unheard tune.
Then... everything faded into blackness.
He had the sensation of not only being pulled closer to her, but actually being pulled INTO her. As if the barriers of their skin were shattered and their insides mingled inside a new container that was neither Cora or himself, but rather them as one. He lost all sense of direction as shadow and darkness swirled about them like a directionless vortex pulling them everywhere and nowhere at once. A part of him wanted to struggle, to lash out and try to find some kind of fixed point in space that he could hold on to. But the part of him that seemed to be as much a part of her as himself felt her presence as an anchor, knew that she had done this before, and that she knew what she was doing. He watched with a strange feeling of detachment, as she directed their course with a look, or a thought, all the while holding him inside her protecting him from the dark.
They emerged in the back room of the Guyver store... they stood there for a moment, cheek to cheek. She didn’t want to let him go.
Johe held her close, feeling his heart thrum against her chest like a skipping stone on a lake. Spots of hot and cold moved all over him, like sensuous hands. He hadn't felt like that since... well since...
He looked at the bed with a secret smile.
"Blimey." he breathed finally, the air shaking in his throat from the excitement of their journey.
She inhaled sharply, as his voice seemed to wake her from a dream.
“It’s never been like that before” she said, in barely a whisper.
“Well as a ferst timer I c'n 'onestly say tha's tha truth!" he blustered with a wide eyed grin.
They both laughed.
Cora finaly broke the embrace, stepping back to look at him again. A few moments passed as they just took each other in. Then she remembered where they were, and what had to be done.
Glancing around the room with a sigh, she spoke. “We’re probably not safe here, but I thought it would be the easiest place to bring you... anyway, I have a feeling they might be busy for a while.”
She frowned a bit, looking back at him once more. “But we can’t stay here... I’m sorry Johe”
“Didn' much think I wus gonna make it back anyway," Johe shrugged with a grin, “Awlredy sent mista Salt a letta with tha key."
He took her hand gently and looked into her eyes.
"Ya think ya outta fill me in on wut I bin missin' while ya wus gone?" he smirked.
Cora nodded slowly, her eyes drifting away from him and across the floor. She frowned again as she tried to gather her thoughts. There was so much to tell, she had no idea where to start.
“...I’m not sure where to begin”
" 'ow about startin' with 'oo them shady folks wus with ya" Johe said with a hint of jealousy. He frowned at the tone of his own voice.
Cora suddenly remembered the blade.
She drew the shadow blade and held it out for Johe.
Johe stared at it with a puzzled frown.
“This was made special... just for him.
Cortina saw this as their chance to take him out.
I was their way to get close to him...
I was about to strike, when...”
She half frowned, half grimaced, conflicted with how she felt about making off with their primary weapon.
"Ooooh." Johe intoned nodding his head in realization. "So I kinda buggered that up I reckon... sorrae." He grimaced like a lizard choking on a chicken bone as he shrugged apologetically.
Cora snorted softly with a smirk. “Well, I know they had some sort of back up plan... in case the blade didn’t work.” She grinned wickedly. “I guess they’ll have to go with plan B”
"'oo's Cortina?" he asked with a frown.
“Cortina... right.” She rubbed her forehead thinking of just how much there was he didn’t know. It kind of made her wish she had tried to tell him what they were up to before, even if he wouldn’t have believed her. At least she wouldn’t have had to go over it all now. Maybe she would have had the chance to use the blade on the Dreamer as well.
‘Oh well’ she thought, grinning slightly.
She sheathed the blade once more, took Johes hand and led him over to the couch, setting them down, and taking a deep breath.
“Cortina is...” Cora looked puzzled for a moment. Just what her title would be, she couldn’t say. “Well, I guess she’s sort of the leader of... this... group.”
She paused, thinking.
“Like Hezekiah's Breth?" he said with a raised eyebrow.
Cora shook her head, then opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t think of what to say, so instead she chuckled, a bit exasperated.
“You know, I don’t even know what they call themselves. A bit silly, I guess.” She nodded to herself a moment, then said more firmly. “But you know... I don’t really care at this point.”
“Cortina and ...her lot, are after the knowledge the Dreamer has... or they just wanted to get him out of the way, so they could... experiment? I guess? ...with what they already knew... without his interference.”
Cora shook her head as though trying to clear it.
“anyway... Cortina believes that anyone who has the gift... to use the shadows, should be taught how to... to their fullest potential. Others, like the Dreamer, obviously think otherwise. He taught me how to develop my abilities... but only so long as he thought I would be...” She frowned, looking down at their hands “his tool”
Johe gently lifted her chin with his hand, giving her a reassuring smile.
"Cyfi," he said gently, "you an' I both know tha' bugger neva 'ad a chance with you."
Cora smirked. They looked at each other for a long moment until the wrinkle of questions started to crease the guyver's forehead.
"So," he began hesitantly," they came in rite unner tha shadow's noses... an' tha way we got 'ere... tha's sum uf tha new stuff they've lerned?"
She took a deep breath. “What do you know about the Dreamer?”
The guyver's face darkened slightly at the memory.
"All I knew fer sure was 'e 'ad you, an' 'e needed ta go down so I culd git you out"
Cora gave a slight smirk, almost smiling warmly at him, and then she continued. “Well, he might look like a shadow, but he’s not really one of them. He... or perhaps, “it”, is much more than that.”
She frowned thoughtfully for a moment.
“I’ve known him a long time. His thoughts in my head. For a long time I thought they were my own, But now I see that he’s been manipulating me for... I don’t even know when it started... maybe my whole life.”
“But that’s the thing... he can get inside your head... inside your dreams.”
Cora had a distant look on her face. “until you can’t tell which thoughts are your own...”
He sat and looked at her for a long moment as she stared off into space, the thoughtful sorrow etched on his face mirroring hers. A lot of things that had worried him, angered him, or downright scared him, suddenly made sense. He shook his head gently as his eyes took her in. So small, so fragile, and yet, having been through so much, there was a toughness born of necessity. A callous he had spent years trying to get past, that had never been meant for him to begin with. He couldn't help but breath a soft chuckle into his hand.
"Cyfi..." he said finally with a gentle smile, " I don' git 'ow that makes it tha' Cortina an' 'er frens culd sneek rite in there without 'im knowin'"
Cora shook her head sharply, snapping out of it. “sorry... Ok, see... he manipulates the shadows, but he’s not really one of them. So Cortina believes that can only get him so far. She says there isn’t much difference between him and us in that respect... other than the fact that he’s been playing this game for... who knows how long. ...but a very long time, so he knows a lot.”
“If he was a shadow, he would probably be able to sense us immediately, if we were in the same room, and using the shadows to hide. But it’s dreams, and thoughts that he is truly a master over. But they think this may help him... control, the shadows better.”
“That’s why they wan’t to get rid of him. They wan’t to test some of these theories out... But, while he’s around, all their energy has been directed at avoiding him”
“An' jus' ow DO they avoid tha bugger?" he asked with a coy look in his eye.
Cora smirked slightly, and squeezed his hand. “apparently... love can act as a sort of barrier”
“The Dreamer can’t understand love. Cortina taught me how to focus my thoughts in such a way, that he couldn't tell I was even there. And that’s how they were able to jump in right under his nose, without him knowing”
Johe thought for a moment.
"So..." he said with a frown, " lemme see if I git this... All that time I wus tryin' ta git you away frum that bastad, you wanned ta git away too?"
Cora started to speak, then hesetated. Smiling a bit awkwardly she finally said, "Well... for a while now, yeah."
"Why didya go to Cortina then?" he said with a pleading look in his eyes," Why culdn' ya cum ta me?"
There was a long pause. Cora seemed to squirm ever so slightly in her seat. |
"I'm not closed-minded, you're just WRONG." - Bucky Katt
My characters n portraits |
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Something Old Something New
Posted: 23 Jul 2008 12:50 PM |
" Why culdn' ya cum ta me?"
What if there was no light?
Nothing wrong, nothing right?
What if there was no time?
And no reason or rhyme?
What if you should decide
That you don't want me there by your side?
That you don't want me there in your life.
The words wafted through his mind like a supplicant alone in a quiet temple. He searched her face for answers even she seemed hard pressed to find.
She sighed.
What if I got it wrong?
And no poem or song..
Could put right what I got wrong,
Or make you feel I belong
He had left her to save the world. He had left her alone. And now the knight inside him was sated, he realized that the guyver inside would throw that all away in a heartbeat to be standing beside her in love watching the world die rather than see her struggle to find the answers he sought.
Was it too late?
What if you should decide
That you don't want me there by your side?
That you don't want me there in your life.
He watched her with sadness as she fought with her thoughts. Then, the words just seemed to flow from her, the gates of control crumbling under the force of her need to be heard, and finally understood.
"I just couldn't," she blurted turning her black eyes away from his.
The guyver frowned as she continued.
"I... I hated you. ...for the longest time," she said, biting her lip, "And then... one day... I realized....Everything in my life was a lie...everyone was using me for their own purposes... and I was... just using them."
She looked up at him momentarily then dropped her eyes to the floor. He watched her and waited, a sickening pang of realization awakening the snakes in his chest to just what his leaving had done to her.
"But you just wanted to love me." she whispered as she looked up at him with her obsidian eyes glittering with tears,"And I couldn't see it, for all the lies I was living... and being fed"
She breathed a heavy sigh, all he could do was watch like a helpless man witnessing the anguish of his first childs birth with no means of taking the pain away from his beloved.
"I believed them... and not my heart", she breathed as she took his hands in hers and looked at him through a veil of tears,"Can you forgive me?"
That's right
Let's take a breath try to hold it inside
Oooooh, that's right
How can you know it if you don't even try?
That's right.
He couldn't speak. The words in his head convicted him of being guilty of her crime. If he had followed his heart he would have never put her in the position she had been in. Always fighting for the cause. Always trying to be the one small halfling that could change the world, that could save the world...had made him give up the one person he loved and needed more than anything else in Vives...had made him leave her out to dry in the Dark Dreamers evil winds.
Every step that you take
Could be your biggest mistake
It could bend or it could break
But that's the risk that you take
What if you should decide
That you don't want me there in your life.
That you don't want me there by your side.
He pulled her close to him letting the tears fall freely to mingle with hers.
"Only if you c'n fergive me luv..." he said, " only if you c'n fergive me."
He pulled her to the bed, and they fell onto the soft mattress.
That's right
Let's take a breath jump over the side.
Oooooh, that's right
How can you know it when you don't even try?
That's right
"I love you Johe Jaxon..." she whisperd in his ear as he kissed her neck, "...and even though it scares the hells out of me... I want to let you love me"
He smiled and held her close as they faded into a peaceful sleep. But there were a few wakeful interludes before the dawn.
*
*
*
*
In the morning they woke without a word. They knew what they had to do. A note was left for the Salt Sower leaving the store, and it's belongings to him, with the stipulation that Zigzig Sputnik be taken care of and given a minimun of ten meat pies a day. Johe already knew the old man would take care of Ophelia, and, if the belt did it's job, he had the hereafter covered as well. They stood at the entrance of the Guyver Store for a moment hand in hand looking at what they had brought to Port Royal, and what they were leaving behind. He looked down at her with a smile and kissed her forehead. No matter who had won the battle in Menaroks Temple, there would be people looking for them...and they didn't want to be found. They had earned the rest of their lives together, and he would be damned if he didn't savor every minute of it with the halfling he loved. They turned and walked out of the door toward the docks. Captain Dandy owed him a favor... it was time to collect. The guyver walked with his free hand on the pouch that held the map they needed to get to where they were going. His fiance held her hand over a pouch that seemed to leak an inky blackness into the alley.
That's right
Let's take a breath jump over the side
Oooooh, that's right
You know that darkness always turns into light
That's right...
((Credits: Coldplay)) |
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Something Borrowed...Something Blue?
Posted: 13 Jul 2013 09:23 AM |
She woke to the smell of hot tea and sweet rolls that were sitting on the night stand next to an empty bottle of McGillicutty's ale filled with fresh picked purple flowers.
She smiled.
She could hear him in the other room, most likely sitting at his desk. She grunted softly as she struggled out of the bed and padded over to the waiting cup. Ah just the way she liked it, he had been spoiling her more than usual lately, and she was growing to like it.
Standing in the bedroom doorway of their new home, she watched him with a smile. It had worried her that he might go stir crazy being away from it all, but he was quick to find different passions to pursue. He had told her during one of their many all night talks laying in each others arms that he had actually hated all the drama which, she supposed with a soft chuckle, rang true considering the direct approach he tended to take toward any problem. It was indicative of a man who would just as soon shoot Kuzins' ox in the head and walk than smell his rear end all the way home.
"By the gods," her mind chortled as she smiled to herself, "now your thinking like him."
She looked up at the sound of strings being tuned. It turned out that he had always wanted to be a bard of all things, but that the mysterious Sir Rafferty, (had he really existed? Johe swore to it, but she still wasn't sure), had forbade it, saying that being a hin squire would be a magnet for enough ridicule, let alone having him riding around with a guitar on his back. She stifled a laugh. She didn't want him to know she was up, it would send him into the "tizzy of service". She watched him as he worked, his hair as wild as the papers strewn across his desk. Surreptitious glances, and downright old fashioned espionage had revealed that he was working on a musical, of all things. The working title appeared to be Shadow Play, and judging from the dialogue it was loosely based on the story of their relationship.
"Likely to be one long play," she smirked.
She had particularly enjoyed the part where he was being beaten to a pulp by the three women in his life. Last she had read, he had just asked her to marry him... the first time. She wondered where he was in the story as he plopped the quill in the ink well and started to strum, looking intently at the paper in front of him. She raised a surprised eyebrow, she rarely caught him playing the thing, but the last time, it had been a true test of her love not to laugh hysterically...not until he had left to hunt up some supper at least. Truthfully though, he had improved a great deal!
Another day
I call and never speak
And you would say,
"Nothing's changed at all"
She loved listening to him sing. While his brash accent had a certain boyish charm, when he sang there was no hint of it. Maybe it was the power of the music, or the power of his passion for the words. She remembered seeing it once before a lifetime ago, hells, now it would be TWO lifetimes ago. That ridiculously large guard at Madame Setine's who could barely speak his own name, but sang like an angel in the showers.
"Heh, file THAT away under things not to tell Johe," She smirked. It was just one of the many differences between women and men. Men were quite a bit more sensitive about ancient history than women. It was a double standard to be sure, and in another life it would have annoyed her, but now... it was what it was...just a difference. She started to sway with the rhythm as he continued.
And I can't feel
Much hope for anything
If I won't be there
To catch you if you fall
Again
It seems we meet
In the spaces
In between
You always say
"Won't be long"
But something's always wrong
The words hit home. She found her hand moving to her eyes. He had always had such a knack for hitting the nail right smack on the head, and she had been so emotional lately as it was. He had been there to catch her hadn't he. She sighed.
Another game
Of putting things aside
As if we'll come
Back to them sometime
A brace of hopes (abrasive hopes)
Of pride
Of innocence
And you would say
Something has gone wrong
Again
(again we fail)
It seems we meet
In the spaces
In between
You always say
"Won't be long"
Oh, but something's always wrong
She smiled shaking her head slightly. That described life in Vives to a "T". She wondered how they were all doing out there in the madness. She assumed Cortina and her band had been successful. She had not heard from the Dark Dreamer (or even felt him when she practiced her art in private to see if she even still could), since that day. She had to admit, she was worried that she might go stir crazy out here away from Vives. Until recently though she had gone out guyvering on occasion with her husband to help finance this extended "getaway", and Captain Dandy's crew (sworn to secrecy by their captain), stopped by regularly to drop off supplies or on furlough so there were usually other people to interact with, and regular, if general, news to catch up on. Besides that she had taken to, and enjoyed her painting. Sometimes though... in the middle of the night... when the cicada's were particularly shrill... she would feel the urge of a missed opportunity. Most of the time when she rolled over to hold him and try to go back to sleep, his eyes would be open too. She tapped her fingers on her stomach to the beat.
And again
It seems we meet
In the spaces
In between
You always say
"Won't be long"
Oh, but something's always wrong
Something's always wrong
Something's always wrong
He looked up as he strummed the final chord and caught her out of the corner of his eye, a red tinge instantly flushing his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
"oh.. heh, g'mornin cyfi", he stammered, "did I wake ya?"
"Something's always wrong?" she quipped from behind a secret smile.
"Well not no more righ?" he said returning a grin.
She winced, and dropped the mug of tea scattering loud porcelain on the rough hewn floor boards.
"Cyfi?" He jumped up from his chair dropping the guitar and tipping the ink well sending spider webs of black across his shadow play.
"Ummmm Johe?"
"wut is it luv?"
"I think it's time."
As has been mentioned before, Guyvering is a relatively young profession, created by a forward thinking knight, and first undertaken by a young halfling squire. Because this profession is in its early stages, and still going through its formative years, however, does not mean that there are no hard and fast rules to follow. An example of this would be rule number one which was formulated and written into law in the first MINUTES of this professions existence, which CLEARLY states...
DON'T EVER PANIC!
However, it was at this precise moment that the master guyver, who had faced three halfling girls and lived, who had walked through Netharu and survived, (if a little crispy), who had faced the denizens of Gukathul and laughed, the soul suckers, the bloodsuckers, and any other kind of evil nightmare that Vives could throw at a guyver, with nary a droplet of urine in his cod piece!!
...
broke rule number one.
(( Credits: Toad the wet sprocket plug this in and read it again http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gcCJQP5iggU )) |
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Re: Something Borrowed...Something Blue?
Posted: 13 Jul 2013 09:36 AM |
| (( I want to dedicate the preceding story to the folks still here and those long gone. My wife makes fun of me for sitting in front of this computer clacking away instead of going out to the bar and trying to cheat on her like "normal" guys. And "how can you be friends with people you don't even know?" I know if I met any of you in a bar, it would be the wildest, greatest time ever, and pixels or no, I am glad to know you all. I would also like to reiterate that I appreciate any and all feedback, especially considering our numbers have temporarily dwindled )) |
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Re: Something Borrowed...Something Blue?
Posted: 14 Jul 2013 02:27 AM |
| Great read my friend! It is funny how I smile when I see an old name back checking out the forums. Vives was my very first RP experience. I remember helping Ara test it out. I never could leave. I guess none of us really could. I am glad for that. |
ONWARD AND UPWARD! |
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The more things change...
Posted: 02 Jun 2016 01:54 PM |
Hello? Mamma?
Are you there? I’m not comfortable! Mamma? Come make me warm and cozy!
I don’t like feeling cold and wet! MAMMA! NOW MAMMA! Mamma? Are you there?
Oh… it’s that other guy. Maybe he knows. Where is Mamma? Go get Mamma! No, Mamma… go get MAMMA! Argh… it’s like he never knows what I’m saying! MAMMA! GO GET MAMMA!!!
Huh? What.. oh, that… that’s kinda fun.. I rather like moving through the air like that..
Weeeeeeeeeeee…… whoooooooo…
hey, not Mamma, why did you stop? Ugh.. and why do I feel all wet and cold… Mamma! Are you there? Hey, not Mamma, can you just go get Mamma? MAMMA!
…why are you looking at me like that, instead of going to get Mamma? Are you even listening to me? Maybe if I ask you LOUDER!! GO GET MAMMA! I NEED MAMMA.. WHY ARE YOU LOOKING UNDER ME, IS MAMMA UNDER ME? MAMMA NEEDS To make… hey that’s really shiny can I have that? Can I … no, just… put it in my hand. I.. no, just in my hand… my HAND. Argh… why are these things so useless… shiny… I want that… can I have that.. here, let me… just… almost got it… no, wait… I can get it… hey, help me out here not mamma… just put it.. no, there.. just.. in… my… I almost had it that time.. stop moving it all over the place… YES!! I got it… shiny.. wow this is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.. and it’s all mine… I wonder if it fits in my mouth? Aaahhh… eaaaahhh.. eh.. no.. but it’s kind of fun to lick… mmmm that’s an interesting texture.. wow, shiny AND licky… and it’s all mine… this is the greatest day ever!
" Oi Cora! yaseen me amulet?"
(( All credit to BKatt for this hilarious piece. I was tooling through some ideas he and I were discussing, and came across this gem. As much as some things should just be left alone, it's hard to leave this storyline. I may be dabbling with it a bit in the future)) |
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Re: The more things change...
Posted: 01 Jul 2016 04:02 PM |
| and so it begins! ;) |
ONWARD AND UPWARD! |
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Re: The more things change...
Posted: 07 Jul 2016 09:57 AM |
| ewwwww... |
Purpose in life: finding better ways of allowing players to kill themselves. Repeatedly.
--
"...Cause he mixes it with love
And makes the world taste good."
--
<@James42> Lawful good isn't in your vocabulary, it's on your menu.
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Re: The more things change...
Posted: 13 Mar 2020 10:58 AM |
Just because!
*bump* |
'The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.' - Richard Bach, Illusions. |
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Stuck in Square One
Posted: 21 May 2021 07:03 AM |
((The juices are beginning to flow, and the ideas are beginning to form. Some of you may roll your eyes, but a trip to my old inbox tells me some of you may be at least mildly interested to know that there is more to come.
Stay Tuned
JJ )) |
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