Uh, yeah, this isn't a chapter, just saying I can't think of a way to kill all my characters before the urge to leave and never contribute ever again gets too great. My stories clearly aren't up to scratch any more if people refuse to say what they think on them, I no longer feel comfortable joking around with you all as all I ever get for telling my innocent jokes is hatred and we never communicate any more anyway, but hey, at least when I first joined this I was on the edge of killing myself and by the end of the month life had gotten way better for me...heck, I even got to return home instead of having to stay around abusive foster carers, great, huh?!
But now I'm depressed again and none of you like me or what I'm writing any more anyway. Last person here I saw as a friend has said no, not true, no joking, no niceness, no friendly actions, go away. So goodbye, I'm gone.
Fabi, if you write anything more, you can have Mortis.
Sorry to waste space with this.
Mevolent Collaboration
Mevolent has returned- no one knows how- and he's raising an army. With Valkyrie Cain and Skulduggery Pleasant out of the picture, it's up to the minions of Blogland to either stop him... Or join him.
Monday, September 8, 2014
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Mortis Grievance: Forever Blowing Bubbles
Mortis awoke in a strange place. It must have been his mind messing with him. He was sure he saw some floating cows, and lots of rainbows and ribbons. There was the sound of a tuba flowing, being played very, very badly. His eye inched open, and he saw some familiar features. A face that reminded him horribly of Felicity Insouciant. He didn't like her, he decided at once. She smelled. Of roses. Mortis did not like roses. She spoke, but all he heard was the ringing of bells. Great, he was going mad.
And then he woke up, still in the old necromancer temple, still half blind and bleeding out. Someone was crouched over Jayden. It was Richard, he was sure of it. Slim build, short, wearing a long and heavy coat and with his hair in a silly little ponytail tied with a bow. He turned slightly and Mortis frowned. This man had dark skin. Craning his neck, he saw the woman who had been in his dreams, talking sharply on the phone. She looked like his mother, but far too young. Mother had not known of the world of magic. She came over and helped to lift the masonry off the killer, scowling at him. "Grievance?" She asked sharply, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth with a tissue. She was all business.
"And you are?"
"Arachne Basilisk." She said nothing more to Mortis but instead turned to the dark skinned man. "Perseus, this had better be good, or else."
"You know the kind of guy I am." He assured her. "Annie still waiting by the car?"
"She is, and she's furious to hear you've lost Reckless."
"As long as she keeps a lid on her temper. We need the killers."
"Which ones are they?"
"Grievance, Ame, I don't know, it's Charles' plan."
"I don't trust him."
"I'd trust him with my life, Arachne."
There was a moment of silence before a man with white hair and brown eyes came in. He looked around the place and wrinkled his nose. "Is this really it?"
"Did you expect something amazing and stylish, Detective?" Arachne spat as she helped Mortis to his feet.
"Somewhere a little less broken...can't say anything about corpse-ridden though, considering the Death Bringer thing a few years back..." He kicked something aside, something that squelched. "We're not taking all of them with us, but we're not letting them die, killers or not. They're on our side in the war."
"And you know that how?"
"Because I'm close to the Grand Mages of France. Former and present. I know quite a fair bit, Arachne."
"I'm sure."
Mortis felt consciousness slip away again and slumped in Arachne's arms, saying one word. "Jayden".
-----
The plan began with Davidd O'Taerah opening up a link through which Lionel Ame could talk to France. He spoke to them with firm vigour and confidence, apologising for the possession, disappearance and lapse of proper management, before reassuring them that France would not fall to Mevolent. Of course they wouldn't. They had a man who knew exactly how mad men like Mevolent worked on their side. They had Lionel Ame.
Davidd was a sense warden. Very close friends with Sigmund Drakon. One glance over those around him and he knew what he was faced with, and the, ugh, drama within this stupid group. He went over to Wilhelm next and snapped his finger in front of his face. The pale man jumped and shrunk back, arms curling protectively around the toddler on his lap. "Wilhelm, right?" Davidd asked, speaking flawless German. He didn't wait for a response. "Now, I have a little job for everyone here, and yours comes in next. I promise you won't be in any danger, you just have to do exactly as I say."
"I...I'm not sure I should..."
"You can take the child with you or leave it here, it's up to you."
Wilhelm frowned. "What's the job?"
"It's simply to travel and wait. You won't be anywhere near the danger zone, I promise you." He helped the Gothic German up and led him through a door, for a briefing.
((I'm gonna try and bring everyone together...))
And then he woke up, still in the old necromancer temple, still half blind and bleeding out. Someone was crouched over Jayden. It was Richard, he was sure of it. Slim build, short, wearing a long and heavy coat and with his hair in a silly little ponytail tied with a bow. He turned slightly and Mortis frowned. This man had dark skin. Craning his neck, he saw the woman who had been in his dreams, talking sharply on the phone. She looked like his mother, but far too young. Mother had not known of the world of magic. She came over and helped to lift the masonry off the killer, scowling at him. "Grievance?" She asked sharply, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth with a tissue. She was all business.
"And you are?"
"Arachne Basilisk." She said nothing more to Mortis but instead turned to the dark skinned man. "Perseus, this had better be good, or else."
"You know the kind of guy I am." He assured her. "Annie still waiting by the car?"
"She is, and she's furious to hear you've lost Reckless."
"As long as she keeps a lid on her temper. We need the killers."
"Which ones are they?"
"Grievance, Ame, I don't know, it's Charles' plan."
"I don't trust him."
"I'd trust him with my life, Arachne."
There was a moment of silence before a man with white hair and brown eyes came in. He looked around the place and wrinkled his nose. "Is this really it?"
"Did you expect something amazing and stylish, Detective?" Arachne spat as she helped Mortis to his feet.
"Somewhere a little less broken...can't say anything about corpse-ridden though, considering the Death Bringer thing a few years back..." He kicked something aside, something that squelched. "We're not taking all of them with us, but we're not letting them die, killers or not. They're on our side in the war."
"And you know that how?"
"Because I'm close to the Grand Mages of France. Former and present. I know quite a fair bit, Arachne."
"I'm sure."
Mortis felt consciousness slip away again and slumped in Arachne's arms, saying one word. "Jayden".
-----
The plan began with Davidd O'Taerah opening up a link through which Lionel Ame could talk to France. He spoke to them with firm vigour and confidence, apologising for the possession, disappearance and lapse of proper management, before reassuring them that France would not fall to Mevolent. Of course they wouldn't. They had a man who knew exactly how mad men like Mevolent worked on their side. They had Lionel Ame.
Davidd was a sense warden. Very close friends with Sigmund Drakon. One glance over those around him and he knew what he was faced with, and the, ugh, drama within this stupid group. He went over to Wilhelm next and snapped his finger in front of his face. The pale man jumped and shrunk back, arms curling protectively around the toddler on his lap. "Wilhelm, right?" Davidd asked, speaking flawless German. He didn't wait for a response. "Now, I have a little job for everyone here, and yours comes in next. I promise you won't be in any danger, you just have to do exactly as I say."
"I...I'm not sure I should..."
"You can take the child with you or leave it here, it's up to you."
Wilhelm frowned. "What's the job?"
"It's simply to travel and wait. You won't be anywhere near the danger zone, I promise you." He helped the Gothic German up and led him through a door, for a briefing.
((I'm gonna try and bring everyone together...))
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Charles and Mortis: Memories Drift In And Out Of My Mind, And the Little People Get Left Behind
A group of men were seated around a long table. Twelve men, bickering in French. The tallest one, with hair to his waist, was carving into the marble top with something that resembled a compass. He was staying quiet, keeping his eyes to the ground. He didn't want to join in.
"I'm telling you, I've seen nothing." Rene insisted, crossing his toned arms.
"You were right there!" Enrageant practically screamed. "You had to have seen something, a flash of the man's face! The weapon!"
"I saw nothing!"
Moyen sighed, finishing the sigil he was carving into the table.
Jasmin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I believe him when he says he saw nothing."
"Of course." Hissed Benjamin. "Because the detective knows everything."
"I know quite a lot more than you." He raised his hand in a fist for silence before Ben could interrupt. "We are not here to lay blame on Rene."
"Thank you!"
"We're here for fishsticks." Jalousie decided, smirking. There was a collection of exasperated groans.
"This is no time for jokes." Charles Fiable scolded.
"Sorry." The blond Necromancer mumbled, grinning still.
Poupee hit him and heaved a sigh. Jalousie kept laughing.
"No, we are here to think things through logically." Jasmin stated loudly before more arguing could happen. "People have gone missing and been killed, and we have to figure out why this has happened and who has done this, and I'm only asking your help as you are affected..."
Traq spoke up next. He was shuffling a deck of playing cards. "Well, some of us are."
The knife in Moyen's hand slipped, slicing open his palm and he jumped up with a shriek. All the others looked to him, and he apologised softly, looking to be on the verge of tears. Charles got up to help him. They discussed quietly.
It was this conversation that now played in Charles' head as he stood, feeding baby Oro in the dead of night. There was a faint wind outside, and all he could hear was the faint chatter of that obnoxious Canadian man. Then something particular came to him.
With every twist and turn there is a sharp drop or incline. As for him, a weakness is clear, apparent. We just haven't been looking in the right place.
Charles scowled, thinking. Moyen was not often the wise man of the group, but slowly it dawned on him. Every man had a weak spot, and with a little thought, suddenly the Frenchman had realised Mevolent's.
-----
A group of men were seated around a long table. In the corner sat a very young man, only about 47. Mastered Necromancy the previous year, no interest in all the Death Bringer nonsense. He just adored death and whatnot. Even so, he was becoming a soldier. A war was inbound, and Phil, with his long black hair tied back with a custard yellow ribbon, was eager to fight against the nutters looking to end the world, simply to spill the blood.
He was an attractive young man and two blonde girls had their eyes on him, but his eyes were fixed on a man sat opposite him, younger than him but looked older. He stood as the meeting ended and walked off, keeping his head down. The younger yet older man, with dark skin, tapped him on the shoulder and instantly, a knife was at his throat. He gulped. "M-Mortis...?"
Mortis glared a moment, then put away the knife. "I don't remember your name."
"Jayden. Zebulon's brother."
"I remember. You were trying to kill her the same time I was."
"Him."
"Whatever. Redhead got him in the end." He decided not to mention that the redhead and his science magic friend had taken over his house after saving his life.
"Good for him."
"You remembered my name."
Jayden bit his lip and nodded. "I'm very good with names. Redhead was called Garnet, right?"
Mortis nodded. "Well remembered."
"It's nice to see you again."
He shrugged. "Whatever."
"...I don't remember you being that friendly back then either."
"Shut up. I don't remember you being so damn attractive."
"...What?"
"What?" He stopped walking and turned to face the Child of the Spider.
"...You have something in your eye...it's watering..."
"It's nothing."
Jayden started walking again. "You're very good-looking yourself, Mortis."
"You what now?" He jogged to catch up.
"You heard me."
"Are you flirting with me?"
"Maybe. Depends on whether you like it or not."
Mortis scowled. "Peh."
Then the most outrageous noise came from the ruthless killer's throat when the dark-skinned man squeezed his butt, and he gave him the 'I am so going to kill you' look before pinning him to the wall...and kissing him.
Mortis remembered that clearly. His favourite song at the time was called 'I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles'. Now it was 'Beasts' by Slow Moving Millies, and that was the song that filled the dusty air from his pocket and he lay beneath the chunk of masonry, life being squeezed out of him. Nobody knew that number...nobody but Garnet Dorado...and he reached for his pocket, doing his best to get the phone into vision, and pressed a button. A voice filled the air. Singing. Joyful, bouncy singing. A rendition of I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles by someone he didn't know.
Behind him, Richard sat, trying to save Jayden from the brink of death, and Hiro stood by the glowing cradle.
"It...it's a doll..." He muttered in disbelief, and it was. It was a doll, with a face twisted in agony, painted to look like a charred corpse. He lifted it up and all the light went out, an odd ticking sounding out as though a fast piece of clockwork had just been freed to function, followed by a low rumbling. Looking around, terrified, Hiro ran for the door, desperately, running for the sound of a woman singing over the sound of a crackling record playing old music, the kind you would hear in the loading screens of Bioshock.
Mortis had not known the lyrics to this. In fact, it appeared these were lyrics added by a football club, but the sweet sounds flowing back to his ears, filling what he feared were his last moments with memories of his first kiss with Jayden Slander. Then, darkness, that blessed music playing...and silence when his eyes opened to a blinding light...
"I'm telling you, I've seen nothing." Rene insisted, crossing his toned arms.
"You were right there!" Enrageant practically screamed. "You had to have seen something, a flash of the man's face! The weapon!"
"I saw nothing!"
Moyen sighed, finishing the sigil he was carving into the table.
Jasmin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I believe him when he says he saw nothing."
"Of course." Hissed Benjamin. "Because the detective knows everything."
"I know quite a lot more than you." He raised his hand in a fist for silence before Ben could interrupt. "We are not here to lay blame on Rene."
"Thank you!"
"We're here for fishsticks." Jalousie decided, smirking. There was a collection of exasperated groans.
"This is no time for jokes." Charles Fiable scolded.
"Sorry." The blond Necromancer mumbled, grinning still.
Poupee hit him and heaved a sigh. Jalousie kept laughing.
"No, we are here to think things through logically." Jasmin stated loudly before more arguing could happen. "People have gone missing and been killed, and we have to figure out why this has happened and who has done this, and I'm only asking your help as you are affected..."
Traq spoke up next. He was shuffling a deck of playing cards. "Well, some of us are."
The knife in Moyen's hand slipped, slicing open his palm and he jumped up with a shriek. All the others looked to him, and he apologised softly, looking to be on the verge of tears. Charles got up to help him. They discussed quietly.
It was this conversation that now played in Charles' head as he stood, feeding baby Oro in the dead of night. There was a faint wind outside, and all he could hear was the faint chatter of that obnoxious Canadian man. Then something particular came to him.
With every twist and turn there is a sharp drop or incline. As for him, a weakness is clear, apparent. We just haven't been looking in the right place.
Charles scowled, thinking. Moyen was not often the wise man of the group, but slowly it dawned on him. Every man had a weak spot, and with a little thought, suddenly the Frenchman had realised Mevolent's.
-----
A group of men were seated around a long table. In the corner sat a very young man, only about 47. Mastered Necromancy the previous year, no interest in all the Death Bringer nonsense. He just adored death and whatnot. Even so, he was becoming a soldier. A war was inbound, and Phil, with his long black hair tied back with a custard yellow ribbon, was eager to fight against the nutters looking to end the world, simply to spill the blood.
He was an attractive young man and two blonde girls had their eyes on him, but his eyes were fixed on a man sat opposite him, younger than him but looked older. He stood as the meeting ended and walked off, keeping his head down. The younger yet older man, with dark skin, tapped him on the shoulder and instantly, a knife was at his throat. He gulped. "M-Mortis...?"
Mortis glared a moment, then put away the knife. "I don't remember your name."
"Jayden. Zebulon's brother."
"I remember. You were trying to kill her the same time I was."
"Him."
"Whatever. Redhead got him in the end." He decided not to mention that the redhead and his science magic friend had taken over his house after saving his life.
"Good for him."
"You remembered my name."
Jayden bit his lip and nodded. "I'm very good with names. Redhead was called Garnet, right?"
Mortis nodded. "Well remembered."
"It's nice to see you again."
He shrugged. "Whatever."
"...I don't remember you being that friendly back then either."
"Shut up. I don't remember you being so damn attractive."
"...What?"
"What?" He stopped walking and turned to face the Child of the Spider.
"...You have something in your eye...it's watering..."
"It's nothing."
Jayden started walking again. "You're very good-looking yourself, Mortis."
"You what now?" He jogged to catch up.
"You heard me."
"Are you flirting with me?"
"Maybe. Depends on whether you like it or not."
Mortis scowled. "Peh."
Then the most outrageous noise came from the ruthless killer's throat when the dark-skinned man squeezed his butt, and he gave him the 'I am so going to kill you' look before pinning him to the wall...and kissing him.
Mortis remembered that clearly. His favourite song at the time was called 'I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles'. Now it was 'Beasts' by Slow Moving Millies, and that was the song that filled the dusty air from his pocket and he lay beneath the chunk of masonry, life being squeezed out of him. Nobody knew that number...nobody but Garnet Dorado...and he reached for his pocket, doing his best to get the phone into vision, and pressed a button. A voice filled the air. Singing. Joyful, bouncy singing. A rendition of I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles by someone he didn't know.
Behind him, Richard sat, trying to save Jayden from the brink of death, and Hiro stood by the glowing cradle.
"It...it's a doll..." He muttered in disbelief, and it was. It was a doll, with a face twisted in agony, painted to look like a charred corpse. He lifted it up and all the light went out, an odd ticking sounding out as though a fast piece of clockwork had just been freed to function, followed by a low rumbling. Looking around, terrified, Hiro ran for the door, desperately, running for the sound of a woman singing over the sound of a crackling record playing old music, the kind you would hear in the loading screens of Bioshock.
Mortis had not known the lyrics to this. In fact, it appeared these were lyrics added by a football club, but the sweet sounds flowing back to his ears, filling what he feared were his last moments with memories of his first kiss with Jayden Slander. Then, darkness, that blessed music playing...and silence when his eyes opened to a blinding light...
Monday, June 23, 2014
Scarlett Discord: I forgot These Guys Existed
A group stood around a man who sat cross-legged on the floor, blindfolded. Sandy Milschman, his name was. Dark brown hair, fair skin, Dutch by birth. He moved his head as though he were looking at each person around him in turn. He didn't know them, not in the slightest. The German brother and sister stood opposite one another, the brother balancing a toddler on his hip. Lionel sat in the corner, away from the circle, head bound in thick bandages. Monotone was dead, and so no longer controlled Elder Ame, and so he was released. Himself. On other opposites were Scarlett and Drakon, with Aurora tucked awkwardly between Scarl and Wilhelm.
Sigmund Drakon was a small man, roughly the same size as his older sister, skinny and hunched over, but even at full height he was shorter than his younger brother, Wilhelm. He was used to being the strongest in the room and the man who felt no hits, as was his type of magic, but he only chose such magic to combat the health complaints, of which he had many. His tousled hair was a sunny blonde with the tips of his fringe dyed flaming red, eyes bright and blue, and flickering between everyone in the room, watching like a hawk, learning their weaknesses. Not that there were many to learn from their outward appearances. What he saw was blind man, man who was bound and blindfolded, his sister with the weak spot on her back, his brother, who was afraid of him, the girl and the man in the robes of a Grand Mage. He was not amused, stood between his siblings and in this room of strange people. He liked the toddler though. Drakon had a soft spot for infants. Wilhelm looked up and the brothers' eyes locked, and Drakon excused himself politely from the group and pulled his little brother away.
"You've lost weight."
"I know." Wilhelm was his usual terrified self, the same guy since the last 14 years passed since the brothers had last spoken. The resemblance between Scream and Drakon was unsettling. The difference between them was Drakon's blond hair and their different noses. Drakon's was flatter.
"Your finger..."
"It...doesn't matter..."
"No, who took it?"
"It doesn't matter..." He wasn't used to his brother being so nice, and clearly he was very unnerved. Drakon shook his head and nodded to what he assumed was his nephew. Wilhelm carefully passed the child over, which he had refused to do for Aurora.
Meanwhile, the others spoke to Sandy. Scarlett crouched down and undid the blindfold, tucking it into the back of his trousers. The Dutch man smiled at him.
"Heya."
"Hi..."
Aurora piped up. "I'm sorry, exactly why are we in this stupid crazy house with no..."
"Sense-making?" Lionel pitched in, receiving a glare for his efforts. He glared back, shrugging his shoulders, which were the shoulders clad in the Grand Mage robes.
"Yeah, this place still makes no sense."
Rabe walked away for a moment so she could draw up a chair and shrugged. "Well, we're here because here Mevolent cannot get to us. No man can come in unless someone from inside expressly allows their entrance, which we are unlikely to do to Mevolent or his generals."
"But," Sandy mumbled, "one man inclined to that side gets in and he can let any others of their kind in."
"We're not letting anyone else in. Only people who specifically I like, trust or who happen to be the mother of my nephew."
The Dutch man's eyebrow shot up. "You what?"
"I neither like nor trust Aurora, but she's had my brother's kid." She shrugged, glaring at the woman in question. Sandy squirmed in discomfort. Scarlett decided to step in before Aurora could start to argue, and she was definitely about to argue.
"We do have a plan, miss Jane!"
"What plan?"
"Well, not all the instrumental players in it are here yet-"
"Well tell me or I'm leaving."
Scarl looked to the others for help and Drakon walked over, his nephew on his shoulder, tugging at his hair. He took a quick and casual breath from an inhaler before telling her exactly what was going down.
"Right here, right now, we are in the home of my friend Davidd O'Taerah, otherwise known as the Impossible Man, hence the...complexity of this place...as such we have in our hands what may well be a powerful weapon and a heavily armoured base. As such, we are the best defended rebellion against Mevolent, despite being in a heavily-Mevolent occupied area. Attempts to escape may be dangerous, but we have tunnels to and fro another impossible house. The possibilities are endless, but for now our plan? Secure countries on the cusp of falling to our side. We start with France, England, Germany, Romania, ones that won't be too difficult to save and that we can directly affect with the group we have with us."
Aurora took a moment to take it in, and nodded. Drakon was one of those men people trusted and respected, he just had that feel about him...in fact, despite the slight wheezing and the toddler in his hair, he had a military feel about him. Apart from the scar on his cheek and the broken nose, he was rather attractive. Plus, his point wasn't a bad one.
Then the door burst open, causing everyone to jump, and even tearing screams from Wilhelm and Lionel, which in turn set baby Kristian off crying. There stood a chubby man with dark hair, glasses and the kind of face that was cute in a young child sort of way. "Y'alright, Sigmund?" The man called in an Irish accent. Drakon placed his hand to his forehead and groaned.
"Always the grand and ridiculous entrances, Davidd..."
((JINXY HAS UNLEASHED A LESS DEPRESSING CHAPTER THAN THE MORTIS ONE PLANNED. IT'LL BE AWESOME, YOU GUYS! ANYONE REMEMBER THIS LOT?))
Sigmund Drakon was a small man, roughly the same size as his older sister, skinny and hunched over, but even at full height he was shorter than his younger brother, Wilhelm. He was used to being the strongest in the room and the man who felt no hits, as was his type of magic, but he only chose such magic to combat the health complaints, of which he had many. His tousled hair was a sunny blonde with the tips of his fringe dyed flaming red, eyes bright and blue, and flickering between everyone in the room, watching like a hawk, learning their weaknesses. Not that there were many to learn from their outward appearances. What he saw was blind man, man who was bound and blindfolded, his sister with the weak spot on her back, his brother, who was afraid of him, the girl and the man in the robes of a Grand Mage. He was not amused, stood between his siblings and in this room of strange people. He liked the toddler though. Drakon had a soft spot for infants. Wilhelm looked up and the brothers' eyes locked, and Drakon excused himself politely from the group and pulled his little brother away.
"You've lost weight."
"I know." Wilhelm was his usual terrified self, the same guy since the last 14 years passed since the brothers had last spoken. The resemblance between Scream and Drakon was unsettling. The difference between them was Drakon's blond hair and their different noses. Drakon's was flatter.
"Your finger..."
"It...doesn't matter..."
"No, who took it?"
"It doesn't matter..." He wasn't used to his brother being so nice, and clearly he was very unnerved. Drakon shook his head and nodded to what he assumed was his nephew. Wilhelm carefully passed the child over, which he had refused to do for Aurora.
Meanwhile, the others spoke to Sandy. Scarlett crouched down and undid the blindfold, tucking it into the back of his trousers. The Dutch man smiled at him.
"Heya."
"Hi..."
Aurora piped up. "I'm sorry, exactly why are we in this stupid crazy house with no..."
"Sense-making?" Lionel pitched in, receiving a glare for his efforts. He glared back, shrugging his shoulders, which were the shoulders clad in the Grand Mage robes.
"Yeah, this place still makes no sense."
Rabe walked away for a moment so she could draw up a chair and shrugged. "Well, we're here because here Mevolent cannot get to us. No man can come in unless someone from inside expressly allows their entrance, which we are unlikely to do to Mevolent or his generals."
"But," Sandy mumbled, "one man inclined to that side gets in and he can let any others of their kind in."
"We're not letting anyone else in. Only people who specifically I like, trust or who happen to be the mother of my nephew."
The Dutch man's eyebrow shot up. "You what?"
"I neither like nor trust Aurora, but she's had my brother's kid." She shrugged, glaring at the woman in question. Sandy squirmed in discomfort. Scarlett decided to step in before Aurora could start to argue, and she was definitely about to argue.
"We do have a plan, miss Jane!"
"What plan?"
"Well, not all the instrumental players in it are here yet-"
"Well tell me or I'm leaving."
Scarl looked to the others for help and Drakon walked over, his nephew on his shoulder, tugging at his hair. He took a quick and casual breath from an inhaler before telling her exactly what was going down.
"Right here, right now, we are in the home of my friend Davidd O'Taerah, otherwise known as the Impossible Man, hence the...complexity of this place...as such we have in our hands what may well be a powerful weapon and a heavily armoured base. As such, we are the best defended rebellion against Mevolent, despite being in a heavily-Mevolent occupied area. Attempts to escape may be dangerous, but we have tunnels to and fro another impossible house. The possibilities are endless, but for now our plan? Secure countries on the cusp of falling to our side. We start with France, England, Germany, Romania, ones that won't be too difficult to save and that we can directly affect with the group we have with us."
Aurora took a moment to take it in, and nodded. Drakon was one of those men people trusted and respected, he just had that feel about him...in fact, despite the slight wheezing and the toddler in his hair, he had a military feel about him. Apart from the scar on his cheek and the broken nose, he was rather attractive. Plus, his point wasn't a bad one.
Then the door burst open, causing everyone to jump, and even tearing screams from Wilhelm and Lionel, which in turn set baby Kristian off crying. There stood a chubby man with dark hair, glasses and the kind of face that was cute in a young child sort of way. "Y'alright, Sigmund?" The man called in an Irish accent. Drakon placed his hand to his forehead and groaned.
"Always the grand and ridiculous entrances, Davidd..."
((JINXY HAS UNLEASHED A LESS DEPRESSING CHAPTER THAN THE MORTIS ONE PLANNED. IT'LL BE AWESOME, YOU GUYS! ANYONE REMEMBER THIS LOT?))
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Mortis Grievance: Away in a Manger
A Graveyard in the south of Ireland:
Mortis was cold. He didn't like cold. He was huddled up, back against a headstone, coat pulled tight around him. Plus now his nose was running, which was just embarrassing. His dark eyes scanned the boneyard, looking for his associates. Why exactly they were in a graveyard, he wasn't certain. Demon-face had not specified. He could not see anyone's faces, but he could feel his magic building up, looking for an outlet. It was strong here. Of course it was, all that death. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, digging his feet into the old disturbed earth, no care for the body underneath. No use now. Just a sack of rotting guts and dusty bones. He glanced up as Hiro approached and sneezed. He had a rather cute sneeze. He hated it. Even more so when the Asian man sniggered.
"I think we're meant to go into the old Necromancy temple. The one you studied at."
Mortis stared for a moment before nodding and scrambling to his feet. "Where is it?"
"Over there." He answered with a lazy gesture. They went over, where Jayden was jimmying the doors open with a crowbar.
"Why are we going in here?"
Jay looked round. "Are you okay? You sound sick."
"Shut up and get the damn door open." He brushed some of his hair back. He was freezing, but he was sweating enough for his hair to stick to his pale forehead. Okay, definitely quite sick, Mortis thought to himself. Great. Chances were Franz wouldn't let him take sick leave either.
The only light in the dark halls was provided by a cigarette lighter held by Ricky. It wasn't much, but it was something at the very least. They could see barely a foot in front of their faces, and for the eighth time Garnet and Mortis collided and snapped at one another. "Shut up..." Ricky hissed under his breath. His eyes strained through the darkness until something custard yellow flicked in front of his face a few times before catching alight. The murderous man had set fire to his hair ribbon. At least it cast a bit more light. Ricky surged forward, tripped on a rock-like thing on the floor and cried out as something snapped. His breath came in fast, short bursts. Moving the burning ribbon showed he had managed to break his ankle bad enough for the bone to break the skin. Great. That wouldn't go down well. Those still standing exchanged glances. Now what?
Garnet was not happy. He smelled of rotting flesh, he had a stupid idiot of a healer latched onto his shoulder and shaking his whole body with every hop. There was a cold breeze and thick, black hair was blowing in his eyes. He preferred being dead to being Franz' lapdog.
Mortis found his eyes drawn to a door with familiar markings. He wasn't at all sure where he had seen them before. Perhaps in a dream. He gripped the handles of the door and pulled, and found it was locked. He pushed and the door groaned against his feathery weight. He gestured for his boyfriend to come over, who was much weightier, and they rattled the doors. They still had no clue what they were supposed to be doing, so checking every room would be a good idea. Hiro was crouched over the dead body of a Necromancer killed a few years ago by Melancholia, which was why neither man expected the shadows to suddenly slam through the door and stab everyone in the room.
Wood went everywhere. That was the first thing Mortis noticed. A large piece had splintered into his right eye and he fell back. He didn't see the shadow tentacles shoot out, but he sure did feel it stab through his belly and slice his spine as it burst out of his back. His feet no longer brushed against the floor and he could already feel himself passing out.
Jayden screamed when the door exploded, but his scream was cut short and turned to a pained, choked gurgle. The shadow stabbed him through the throat and he felt his life slipping away from him...
Hiro brought up a wall of shadows to protect himself, and the tentacle bounded off, hovered opposite him a moment and tried to strike again. He fought valiantly to protect himself, but finally his panic took hold, he made a mistake, the tentacle sliced across his face and he screamed.
Ricky and Garnet had no time to react, and both screamed, Richard's howls of pain mixing with Garnet's screams of fear. All men were on their knees. Hiro was sure his nose was hanging on by just one scrap of flesh. Mortis was hyperventilating. He could see inside the room now. There was a crib-like thing, full of straw, on a star drawn into the ground, which was surrounded by sigils and glowing blue. For some reason the only thing he could think of was a Christmas carol. Dust fell onto his head. He was bent double in pain, so his long hair hid his pained face, but looking up he saw the cracks in the ceiling. Hyperventilation got worse.
Oh god He thought, this is it. I'm going to die. And for the first time in a very long time, Mortis cried out of sorrow and fear, tears trickling down his face. He was not yet aware of the state of Jay. He just knew the ceiling was about to fall on him...
Five men trapped underground, under dirt and brick and metal. Alive or dead? Dead or alive? Who knows? What ever will happen?
((I EXPECT TO BE SHOUTED AT
HEY GUYS, TOMORROW, THE 11TH, IS MY BIRTHDAAAAAY! I'LL BE OLD ENOUGH TO DRIVE IN ENGLAND!))
Mortis was cold. He didn't like cold. He was huddled up, back against a headstone, coat pulled tight around him. Plus now his nose was running, which was just embarrassing. His dark eyes scanned the boneyard, looking for his associates. Why exactly they were in a graveyard, he wasn't certain. Demon-face had not specified. He could not see anyone's faces, but he could feel his magic building up, looking for an outlet. It was strong here. Of course it was, all that death. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, digging his feet into the old disturbed earth, no care for the body underneath. No use now. Just a sack of rotting guts and dusty bones. He glanced up as Hiro approached and sneezed. He had a rather cute sneeze. He hated it. Even more so when the Asian man sniggered.
"I think we're meant to go into the old Necromancy temple. The one you studied at."
Mortis stared for a moment before nodding and scrambling to his feet. "Where is it?"
"Over there." He answered with a lazy gesture. They went over, where Jayden was jimmying the doors open with a crowbar.
"Why are we going in here?"
Jay looked round. "Are you okay? You sound sick."
"Shut up and get the damn door open." He brushed some of his hair back. He was freezing, but he was sweating enough for his hair to stick to his pale forehead. Okay, definitely quite sick, Mortis thought to himself. Great. Chances were Franz wouldn't let him take sick leave either.
The only light in the dark halls was provided by a cigarette lighter held by Ricky. It wasn't much, but it was something at the very least. They could see barely a foot in front of their faces, and for the eighth time Garnet and Mortis collided and snapped at one another. "Shut up..." Ricky hissed under his breath. His eyes strained through the darkness until something custard yellow flicked in front of his face a few times before catching alight. The murderous man had set fire to his hair ribbon. At least it cast a bit more light. Ricky surged forward, tripped on a rock-like thing on the floor and cried out as something snapped. His breath came in fast, short bursts. Moving the burning ribbon showed he had managed to break his ankle bad enough for the bone to break the skin. Great. That wouldn't go down well. Those still standing exchanged glances. Now what?
Garnet was not happy. He smelled of rotting flesh, he had a stupid idiot of a healer latched onto his shoulder and shaking his whole body with every hop. There was a cold breeze and thick, black hair was blowing in his eyes. He preferred being dead to being Franz' lapdog.
Mortis found his eyes drawn to a door with familiar markings. He wasn't at all sure where he had seen them before. Perhaps in a dream. He gripped the handles of the door and pulled, and found it was locked. He pushed and the door groaned against his feathery weight. He gestured for his boyfriend to come over, who was much weightier, and they rattled the doors. They still had no clue what they were supposed to be doing, so checking every room would be a good idea. Hiro was crouched over the dead body of a Necromancer killed a few years ago by Melancholia, which was why neither man expected the shadows to suddenly slam through the door and stab everyone in the room.
Wood went everywhere. That was the first thing Mortis noticed. A large piece had splintered into his right eye and he fell back. He didn't see the shadow tentacles shoot out, but he sure did feel it stab through his belly and slice his spine as it burst out of his back. His feet no longer brushed against the floor and he could already feel himself passing out.
Jayden screamed when the door exploded, but his scream was cut short and turned to a pained, choked gurgle. The shadow stabbed him through the throat and he felt his life slipping away from him...
Hiro brought up a wall of shadows to protect himself, and the tentacle bounded off, hovered opposite him a moment and tried to strike again. He fought valiantly to protect himself, but finally his panic took hold, he made a mistake, the tentacle sliced across his face and he screamed.
Ricky and Garnet had no time to react, and both screamed, Richard's howls of pain mixing with Garnet's screams of fear. All men were on their knees. Hiro was sure his nose was hanging on by just one scrap of flesh. Mortis was hyperventilating. He could see inside the room now. There was a crib-like thing, full of straw, on a star drawn into the ground, which was surrounded by sigils and glowing blue. For some reason the only thing he could think of was a Christmas carol. Dust fell onto his head. He was bent double in pain, so his long hair hid his pained face, but looking up he saw the cracks in the ceiling. Hyperventilation got worse.
Oh god He thought, this is it. I'm going to die. And for the first time in a very long time, Mortis cried out of sorrow and fear, tears trickling down his face. He was not yet aware of the state of Jay. He just knew the ceiling was about to fall on him...
Five men trapped underground, under dirt and brick and metal. Alive or dead? Dead or alive? Who knows? What ever will happen?
((I EXPECT TO BE SHOUTED AT
HEY GUYS, TOMORROW, THE 11TH, IS MY BIRTHDAAAAAY! I'LL BE OLD ENOUGH TO DRIVE IN ENGLAND!))
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Hiro Phantasmagoria: He Who Has Never Been The Focus Of A Chapter
A group of men were gathered around a table, all frowning. Each one had eyes locked on another. Hiro was glaring at Mortis, who was glaring at Franz, who was glaring at Ricky, who was glaring at Jayden, who was glaring at Felicity, who was glaring at Garnet, who was glaring at Hiro. I won't go off to reasons now. I don't have the time to. There was a smell of fish in the room, of cod in breadcrumbs being cooked, and all men who were capable of hunger sure as hell were hungry.
"Me and Richard have places to be." Hiro stated darkly, tapping impatient fingers on the tabletop. "Esurine will wonder where I am."
"Who?" Franz hissed, scowling. His eyes remained locked on Ricky.
"My wife."
"Wives are overrated. Marriage is nothing more than a state and does not affirm one's relationship with another, merely costs money."
Hiro felt his temper flare. "Still. I can't stay here."
"Nor can you leave."
Ricky interjected with "I have to pay child support..."
"Too bad. You can all stay here with me unless by my say so, or you can die violent deaths while the loved ones you so wish to see are forced to watch."
Both men clammed up instantly. There were few people Hiro the psychopath cared for, and all those he did care for were his wife and children. Ricky on the other hand cared for too many people. How he had ever fallen into a group with people like Mortis and Garnet, he would never know, and the same went for Jayden. Franz got up to leave. He excused himself, saying he had something to get, and the others hesitated before conversation burst out.
((I am colour coding this conversation. Hiro, Mortis, Jayden, Garnet, Felicity, Ricky))
"I have never wanted to stab somebody so bad before."
"I have."
"Don't you guys do anything other than stab?"
"You're in the wrong group to raise concerns like that, Straker."
"My name is Felicity!"
"This is confusing!"
"Some people should die and stay dead."
"I thought we were friends!"
"We are, but it is never healthy for the dead to return."
"Mortis, stop glaring at me like that..."
"I want you to look Garnet in his lifeless eyes and apologise!"
"Hey, I may be living impaired, but still, a little insensitive there, mate."
"Seriously, he is itching to be stabbed."
"Stop talking about killing!"
"It is our thing, Felicity."
"It's disturbing!"
"We're disturbed people, I guess."
"What about your wife? What does she have to say about this stuff? Are any of the rest of you married?"
There was a hesitation. Silence fell again. Hiro spat at the floor. Jayden and Mortis locked eyes across the table before Jay looked to Garnet instead and apologised softly for killing him. Felicity screamed with Straker's deep voice and few even gave her a glance, but Hiro was looking her in the eye. It was his shadows that had stabbed through her hand. "I don't like just anyone to talk about my family. I especially don't want you talking about them, because I don't like you. I don't like anyone here, but you are the one I like the least. Do you know what that means? It means you are not allowed to talk to me, or make comments about my family or my life. You cannot use my wife to guilt trip me or my children to blackmail me. It means you have to watch your step, and watch it carefully. You got that?"
Felicity nodded. "I got it."
The shadows drew back and Felicity held her bleeding hand to her chest. She didn't like these guys. She didn't like them at all. She looked round as Franz returned. He seemed okay. Remarkably normal compared to the others. Well, apart from maybe the weird eyes and way of speaking, and how, to her, his body seemed to flicker between two forms that were only slightly different.
The nearest man to Franz was Hiro, and so Hiro was the first to feel the shooting pain in his palm as something stabbed in.
"What the hell is that?" He shrieked, voice climbing several octaves. Franz' strange form gave him a cold glare as he reached for the next man along, Jayden, who tried and failed to pull away.
"These will stop you causing trouble for me. Do as you're told or you get exterminated. Betray me, extermination. All of you but Richard and Felicity are known killers, and experienced at that. Felicity, I will hope I need no hold over you, but these men are awfully untoward, and to kill them would merely be punishment for their crimes. Garnet, I can have no hold over as he is the living dead. Mortis, Richard, if you don't be good little boys and stick out your hands, I will destroy Jayden now."
Jayden looked terrified. His eyes pleaded with the others to help him.
"B-but you said I wasn't one of the killers..." Richard squeaked.
"You are still untoward."
Mortis sucked in his pride and stuck out his hand, keeping his eyes tightly shut. Richard reluctantly submitted as well.
Hiro was glaring at the strange disk embedded in his hand. It was too close to major blood vessels to safely remove, and the sigil was one he recognised. Hiro had six children, and all too young to take a name. Esurine was looking after all of them, and usually Hiro didn't mind being away from the family, because he was never to his knowledge in any imminent danger. Now, however, he could see all their little faces, and he felt a need to be with them, a longing in his heart for his family, the likes of which he could swear he had never felt before, but that would probably be a lie. Psychopath, maybe, but he lived for the time he spent with his sons and daughters.
((I've been adding depth to my killers, yay! Oh Hiro, before this piece you were a sideline psychopath with only one emotion: rage. Now you are a sweet father who wants nothing more than to be with his family.
I DEMAND REVIEWS!!!
Hehe, just kidding. I'm hyper...BLEDEBLEDEBLEDEBLEDE))
"Me and Richard have places to be." Hiro stated darkly, tapping impatient fingers on the tabletop. "Esurine will wonder where I am."
"Who?" Franz hissed, scowling. His eyes remained locked on Ricky.
"My wife."
"Wives are overrated. Marriage is nothing more than a state and does not affirm one's relationship with another, merely costs money."
Hiro felt his temper flare. "Still. I can't stay here."
"Nor can you leave."
Ricky interjected with "I have to pay child support..."
"Too bad. You can all stay here with me unless by my say so, or you can die violent deaths while the loved ones you so wish to see are forced to watch."
Both men clammed up instantly. There were few people Hiro the psychopath cared for, and all those he did care for were his wife and children. Ricky on the other hand cared for too many people. How he had ever fallen into a group with people like Mortis and Garnet, he would never know, and the same went for Jayden. Franz got up to leave. He excused himself, saying he had something to get, and the others hesitated before conversation burst out.
((I am colour coding this conversation. Hiro, Mortis, Jayden, Garnet, Felicity, Ricky))
"I have never wanted to stab somebody so bad before."
"I have."
"Don't you guys do anything other than stab?"
"You're in the wrong group to raise concerns like that, Straker."
"My name is Felicity!"
"This is confusing!"
"Some people should die and stay dead."
"I thought we were friends!"
"We are, but it is never healthy for the dead to return."
"Mortis, stop glaring at me like that..."
"I want you to look Garnet in his lifeless eyes and apologise!"
"Hey, I may be living impaired, but still, a little insensitive there, mate."
"Seriously, he is itching to be stabbed."
"Stop talking about killing!"
"It is our thing, Felicity."
"It's disturbing!"
"We're disturbed people, I guess."
"What about your wife? What does she have to say about this stuff? Are any of the rest of you married?"
There was a hesitation. Silence fell again. Hiro spat at the floor. Jayden and Mortis locked eyes across the table before Jay looked to Garnet instead and apologised softly for killing him. Felicity screamed with Straker's deep voice and few even gave her a glance, but Hiro was looking her in the eye. It was his shadows that had stabbed through her hand. "I don't like just anyone to talk about my family. I especially don't want you talking about them, because I don't like you. I don't like anyone here, but you are the one I like the least. Do you know what that means? It means you are not allowed to talk to me, or make comments about my family or my life. You cannot use my wife to guilt trip me or my children to blackmail me. It means you have to watch your step, and watch it carefully. You got that?"
Felicity nodded. "I got it."
The shadows drew back and Felicity held her bleeding hand to her chest. She didn't like these guys. She didn't like them at all. She looked round as Franz returned. He seemed okay. Remarkably normal compared to the others. Well, apart from maybe the weird eyes and way of speaking, and how, to her, his body seemed to flicker between two forms that were only slightly different.
The nearest man to Franz was Hiro, and so Hiro was the first to feel the shooting pain in his palm as something stabbed in.
"What the hell is that?" He shrieked, voice climbing several octaves. Franz' strange form gave him a cold glare as he reached for the next man along, Jayden, who tried and failed to pull away.
"These will stop you causing trouble for me. Do as you're told or you get exterminated. Betray me, extermination. All of you but Richard and Felicity are known killers, and experienced at that. Felicity, I will hope I need no hold over you, but these men are awfully untoward, and to kill them would merely be punishment for their crimes. Garnet, I can have no hold over as he is the living dead. Mortis, Richard, if you don't be good little boys and stick out your hands, I will destroy Jayden now."
Jayden looked terrified. His eyes pleaded with the others to help him.
"B-but you said I wasn't one of the killers..." Richard squeaked.
"You are still untoward."
Mortis sucked in his pride and stuck out his hand, keeping his eyes tightly shut. Richard reluctantly submitted as well.
Hiro was glaring at the strange disk embedded in his hand. It was too close to major blood vessels to safely remove, and the sigil was one he recognised. Hiro had six children, and all too young to take a name. Esurine was looking after all of them, and usually Hiro didn't mind being away from the family, because he was never to his knowledge in any imminent danger. Now, however, he could see all their little faces, and he felt a need to be with them, a longing in his heart for his family, the likes of which he could swear he had never felt before, but that would probably be a lie. Psychopath, maybe, but he lived for the time he spent with his sons and daughters.
((I've been adding depth to my killers, yay! Oh Hiro, before this piece you were a sideline psychopath with only one emotion: rage. Now you are a sweet father who wants nothing more than to be with his family.
I DEMAND REVIEWS!!!
Hehe, just kidding. I'm hyper...BLEDEBLEDEBLEDEBLEDE))
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Franz Ransom: Demon's Plot
It seemed a bit of a surprise just to find his leg was okay now. Sitting up, he addressed Franz with a scowl. "What is this?"
"A plan."
"What plan? What on earth is that corpse doing here?"
"Airing out."
Mort looked back to the body of Garnet. Millie's necklace was wrapped around his rotting neck. Again he shuddered, and a shooting pain travelled down his leg. Okay, not completely better. "Franz, what is this? What are you planning on doing?"
Franz smirked, dropping Wilbur on the ground and taking out a mallet. "I'm planning on righting the wrongs." He answered, smashing the knife with the mallet. Mortis gasped as the Necromancer magic flew back into his body, coursing through his veins. "Phillipa, do you remember Phelan Schnorhavorian?"
"Why? What is this about?" And then a vile pain, the worst Mortis had ever felt, enveloped his entire body. His magic was being drawn out by this possessed monster of a man. Some formed a body, and some went into Garnet, and then the pain was over, and Mortis lay there, gasping for breath.
"Oh great." Garnet muttered sourly. "I just don't get a break, do I?"
Felicity got up, looking dismayed. "What the hell-?"
"You are in the preserved body of my father, Straker." Franz informed her pointedly. "Phelan Schnorhavorian, may I be the one to reintroduce you to your twin brother and murderer, Phillipa."
The look of fury on the man's face, the man who on the inside was his sister, was terrifying. People he had murdered were returning, and my would they be angry. Furthermore, Mortis was unarmed. All his weapons were either back at the castle or in Ransom's possession. Felicity walked over, glowering, and Mortis decided the best course of action would be to glare back. "I can't believe this." She muttered darkly, taking in her brother's appearance. He didn't look well and he was breathing too fast, and she felt a pang of sympathy for him before reminding herself he had killed her. "I can't believe you!"
"Believe it." He hissed back, a little self-conscious of the eyes on him. Garnet Dorado had loved his siblings, and so had Franz before he became possessed, but Mortis and Jayden despised theirs to no end. "Also, Felicity, you can't do anything to me. Not really."
Garnet gave a low whistle. "Sounds like someone's getting ready to rumble." Then he scowled at Franz. "I was enjoying being dead."
Mortis smirked. "Garnet, welcome back."
"I'm a corpse, Mortis, a zombie."
"...Hi Garnet..." Felicity opened her mouth to speak, but the long-haired killer slapped his hand over. "You're kind of in hell right now, you see. Franz is here, Jayden's here, Ricky's here, Millie and Felicity."
"Who's Felicity?
"Oh, someone I killed before we even met. Sister."
Felicity frowned at Garnet. "I'm surprised you ever made friends, Mortis."
"Also she's homophobic, so she already doesn't like Jayden."
He was interrupted by Hiro awakening and attempting to strike out, sharpened shadows stabbing into the wall. Slowly, he noticed others staring, and his magic crawled back into the diamond ring that sat snugly on his ring finger. In all this time, Mortis had not noticed Hiro wearing a ring, and all of a sudden it occurred to him that this particular psychopath was married. Well, he certainly didn't seem like the family kind. Everyone remained under a blanket of silence, not a single one sure what to do or where to go.
-----
Esra woke up in an unfamiliar room in an all too familiar building. He didn't like it, and he couldn't feel his arm. He was still sickly and weak, and could really do with a good shower and meal. He went to get up, but there was no support on his right side. He looked to the side, saw a calendar and figured he had been unconscious for at least a week. The month had changed. Last he remembered about anything, there was a vampire, and alarms, and...he didn't feel too well. He couldn't sit up, and he couldn't sleep, and he couldn't feel his arm, and he was too warm. "Hello?" He called nervously, and then someone stepped into view, with creamy-coloured skin and very dark brown eyes, the kind where the iris is barely distinguishable from the pupil. He had spiky black hair and was wearing a white sports jacket and jeans. His mouth was open slightly and he seemed uncertain. "Esra?" He asked.
"Jerry...?"
Jerry helped him sit up. It was Jerry. Dead Jerry. That was when Esra noticed the exact reason he was having trouble with his right arm. It wasn't there. He remembered the vampire. Erin. Erin had shed his skin, and he had told Esra to run...and had taken his arm...
-----
Austin sighed. His legs were tired, and they had been walking for ages when they could just as easily teleport. His gaze was drawn out and around. He was curious. He had been to Russia before, but suddenly there was a fuss around his life, and things didn't feel quite right. He took a few glances sideways to his sister and his niece. Austin wanted a child. His sideways glance was drawn to Daemon. She wouldn't want kids. She wasn't the type, he felt. Katharine brought an undeniable fact that it would be impossible to tell if the child was his or not. Now Austin was on the precipice of all out war, already in such severe danger here, around these people, in this world with Mevolent trying once more to take over. He had had nightmares about being killed. The fact of the matter was that Austin Baritone, so used to being the underdog, had never once accomplished any of his life goals. He was now trailing at the back of this group he hardly trusted, feeling anxious, like he had a cloud of impending doom hanging above him. "Can we make a pit stop?" He asked loudly, thinking that if he was feeling this bad physically, others, especially Cadence, were in a less favourable state as well. He was met with a nasty look from Santa, but Mihai snapped something at him and after a hesitation, he nodded. "Okay, we can rest a little bit, but I need to keep forming this plan, so nobody bug me."
Frowning, Austin walked off. What plan? Was this guy actually thinking or just walking? He seemed like an idiot. He heard footsteps approach and turned fast, and smiled when he saw Daemon. "You okay?" He asked quietly. She nodded.
"This is mad..."
"I know." He kissed her softly and sighed. "Everything's been mad for months though."
"That's true."
He looked to Cadence, then back at Daemon. "All we can really do is hope for the best.
-----
Another familiar face had been spending his nights in Mevolent's castle, still not outed as a spy. Gale Blaze had a pair of shoes on his chest, watching the rise and fall of his own breathing. He didn't want to move. He was comfortable, and the shoes reminded him of some Necromancers he had been working with at the very beginning of this tale. They belonged to the girl. They were her object of power. Gale Blaze was constantly on high alert. He was in the danger zone, and he had almost been discovered thanks to Jerry, but Jerry was dead now, and Gale could breathe easy. Well, relatively easy. That was one major threat taken care of, and Vehemence's death wasn't even looked into.
With a sigh, he got up, thinking. A while ago, it would have been the case that nobody dared give orders to him. He liked it back then. Back then Gale was his own boss. He liked being his own boss. He didn't like this. Now, he was scared. He was undermined and in danger. Still, survival of the fittest, and if Gale was anything, it was fit.
((Austin
Belinda
Cadence
Dank
Esmerelda
Fade
I can make the beginning of the alphabet with this family's names...
Also look at all the people returning to my mainstream storyline. I'll be avoiding killing people for a while so my brain can stop being weird and confuzzled, but Gale! I haven't written shix about Gale for aaaaages. AND DRAMA. DRAMA SHALL ENSUE.))
"A plan."
"What plan? What on earth is that corpse doing here?"
"Airing out."
Mort looked back to the body of Garnet. Millie's necklace was wrapped around his rotting neck. Again he shuddered, and a shooting pain travelled down his leg. Okay, not completely better. "Franz, what is this? What are you planning on doing?"
Franz smirked, dropping Wilbur on the ground and taking out a mallet. "I'm planning on righting the wrongs." He answered, smashing the knife with the mallet. Mortis gasped as the Necromancer magic flew back into his body, coursing through his veins. "Phillipa, do you remember Phelan Schnorhavorian?"
"Why? What is this about?" And then a vile pain, the worst Mortis had ever felt, enveloped his entire body. His magic was being drawn out by this possessed monster of a man. Some formed a body, and some went into Garnet, and then the pain was over, and Mortis lay there, gasping for breath.
"Oh great." Garnet muttered sourly. "I just don't get a break, do I?"
Felicity got up, looking dismayed. "What the hell-?"
"You are in the preserved body of my father, Straker." Franz informed her pointedly. "Phelan Schnorhavorian, may I be the one to reintroduce you to your twin brother and murderer, Phillipa."
The look of fury on the man's face, the man who on the inside was his sister, was terrifying. People he had murdered were returning, and my would they be angry. Furthermore, Mortis was unarmed. All his weapons were either back at the castle or in Ransom's possession. Felicity walked over, glowering, and Mortis decided the best course of action would be to glare back. "I can't believe this." She muttered darkly, taking in her brother's appearance. He didn't look well and he was breathing too fast, and she felt a pang of sympathy for him before reminding herself he had killed her. "I can't believe you!"
"Believe it." He hissed back, a little self-conscious of the eyes on him. Garnet Dorado had loved his siblings, and so had Franz before he became possessed, but Mortis and Jayden despised theirs to no end. "Also, Felicity, you can't do anything to me. Not really."
Garnet gave a low whistle. "Sounds like someone's getting ready to rumble." Then he scowled at Franz. "I was enjoying being dead."
Mortis smirked. "Garnet, welcome back."
"I'm a corpse, Mortis, a zombie."
"...Hi Garnet..." Felicity opened her mouth to speak, but the long-haired killer slapped his hand over. "You're kind of in hell right now, you see. Franz is here, Jayden's here, Ricky's here, Millie and Felicity."
"Who's Felicity?
"Oh, someone I killed before we even met. Sister."
Felicity frowned at Garnet. "I'm surprised you ever made friends, Mortis."
"Also she's homophobic, so she already doesn't like Jayden."
He was interrupted by Hiro awakening and attempting to strike out, sharpened shadows stabbing into the wall. Slowly, he noticed others staring, and his magic crawled back into the diamond ring that sat snugly on his ring finger. In all this time, Mortis had not noticed Hiro wearing a ring, and all of a sudden it occurred to him that this particular psychopath was married. Well, he certainly didn't seem like the family kind. Everyone remained under a blanket of silence, not a single one sure what to do or where to go.
-----
Esra woke up in an unfamiliar room in an all too familiar building. He didn't like it, and he couldn't feel his arm. He was still sickly and weak, and could really do with a good shower and meal. He went to get up, but there was no support on his right side. He looked to the side, saw a calendar and figured he had been unconscious for at least a week. The month had changed. Last he remembered about anything, there was a vampire, and alarms, and...he didn't feel too well. He couldn't sit up, and he couldn't sleep, and he couldn't feel his arm, and he was too warm. "Hello?" He called nervously, and then someone stepped into view, with creamy-coloured skin and very dark brown eyes, the kind where the iris is barely distinguishable from the pupil. He had spiky black hair and was wearing a white sports jacket and jeans. His mouth was open slightly and he seemed uncertain. "Esra?" He asked.
"Jerry...?"
Jerry helped him sit up. It was Jerry. Dead Jerry. That was when Esra noticed the exact reason he was having trouble with his right arm. It wasn't there. He remembered the vampire. Erin. Erin had shed his skin, and he had told Esra to run...and had taken his arm...
-----
Austin sighed. His legs were tired, and they had been walking for ages when they could just as easily teleport. His gaze was drawn out and around. He was curious. He had been to Russia before, but suddenly there was a fuss around his life, and things didn't feel quite right. He took a few glances sideways to his sister and his niece. Austin wanted a child. His sideways glance was drawn to Daemon. She wouldn't want kids. She wasn't the type, he felt. Katharine brought an undeniable fact that it would be impossible to tell if the child was his or not. Now Austin was on the precipice of all out war, already in such severe danger here, around these people, in this world with Mevolent trying once more to take over. He had had nightmares about being killed. The fact of the matter was that Austin Baritone, so used to being the underdog, had never once accomplished any of his life goals. He was now trailing at the back of this group he hardly trusted, feeling anxious, like he had a cloud of impending doom hanging above him. "Can we make a pit stop?" He asked loudly, thinking that if he was feeling this bad physically, others, especially Cadence, were in a less favourable state as well. He was met with a nasty look from Santa, but Mihai snapped something at him and after a hesitation, he nodded. "Okay, we can rest a little bit, but I need to keep forming this plan, so nobody bug me."
Frowning, Austin walked off. What plan? Was this guy actually thinking or just walking? He seemed like an idiot. He heard footsteps approach and turned fast, and smiled when he saw Daemon. "You okay?" He asked quietly. She nodded.
"This is mad..."
"I know." He kissed her softly and sighed. "Everything's been mad for months though."
"That's true."
He looked to Cadence, then back at Daemon. "All we can really do is hope for the best.
-----
Another familiar face had been spending his nights in Mevolent's castle, still not outed as a spy. Gale Blaze had a pair of shoes on his chest, watching the rise and fall of his own breathing. He didn't want to move. He was comfortable, and the shoes reminded him of some Necromancers he had been working with at the very beginning of this tale. They belonged to the girl. They were her object of power. Gale Blaze was constantly on high alert. He was in the danger zone, and he had almost been discovered thanks to Jerry, but Jerry was dead now, and Gale could breathe easy. Well, relatively easy. That was one major threat taken care of, and Vehemence's death wasn't even looked into.
With a sigh, he got up, thinking. A while ago, it would have been the case that nobody dared give orders to him. He liked it back then. Back then Gale was his own boss. He liked being his own boss. He didn't like this. Now, he was scared. He was undermined and in danger. Still, survival of the fittest, and if Gale was anything, it was fit.
((Austin
Belinda
Cadence
Dank
Esmerelda
Fade
I can make the beginning of the alphabet with this family's names...
Also look at all the people returning to my mainstream storyline. I'll be avoiding killing people for a while so my brain can stop being weird and confuzzled, but Gale! I haven't written shix about Gale for aaaaages. AND DRAMA. DRAMA SHALL ENSUE.))
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)