MSPA Fanfiction V: We're Going to Need More Wands

[draconicAlgorithm]

@Kat:

@Rimbaum: Hehe, it's very likely he will. :3 Now I just need to come up with a good prank.

Also, here's a little thing I worked on just because.

Hope

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Eridan Ampora awoke in a familiar room.

He sat up, feeling groggy and peculiar. Why had he been laying on the floor? And what was he doing back in his room on LOWAA? And why was he in one piece?

Pain, a disjointed feeling, the spray of purple blood.

Oh, that's right. He was dead. Kanaya killed him.

He stood, a little shakily. It was sort of a hard thing to wrap his mind around. He didn't feel dead. Not really. He felt a lot better than he'd felt in a while, truth be told. The only reason he knew was because he remembered the pain. He remembered dying.

Just to check, he glanced out the window. Instead of seeing the cathedrals and the sky full of angels that he was so used to in the Land of Wrath and Angels, he saw nothing but blackness. That settled things. He was definitely dead.

Death didn't seem so bad. He wasn't in pain anymore. He wasn't angry anymore. He wasn't scared, scared of dying and scared of the girl he'd thought he'd killed. Things were better now. Right? He didn't realize he was crying until he felt something wet trail down his cheek. Once he did, he couldn't stop the surge of emotions that came with it. He sat down in a chair, put his head in his hands, and just let it all out.

Without the fear and the anger and hopelessness that had plagued him in life, he was finally beginning to realize how stupid he was. He'd killed the girl he'd loved. Or, had loved at one time. Even when he fought Sollux that last time, even when he killed Feferi, he didn't think he felt that way about her. Not anymore. It was all the pain of being rejected, the fury from being ridiculed. He'd had enough. He'd picked that fight, fully intending on showing both of them who he was.

And Kanaya. He hadn't meant to kill her, not really. Only to destroy the Matriorb. No one understood that there was no more hope, her least of all. What right did she have to give the rest of them false hope? It was all pointless. Only he understood. When she got angry, well, what was he supposed to do? Let her cut him in half?

But now... it was stupid. All so stupid. He'd been an idiot who thought he knew everything, thought he knew all there was to know about hope. But he was wrong. As long as someone is alive, as long as there is something to strive for, there's always hope. And he, the motherfucking Prince of Hope, had to die to figure that out.

What a joke. Him, his title, this game. All of it was a joke. The Horrorterrors were probably out there laughing it up, watching as they killed each another, one by one, and taking bets on who was next.

What was the point? Why even still exist after death? There was nothing for him to do here. He probably couldn't go anywhere. Maybe this was his own personal hell. Looking painstakingly over every day of his life and analyzing how he'd been an idiot, how he'd done everything he could possibly do to screw himself over. He'd only ever really felt hate. Every time he felt pity, even the tiniest bit, he'd been scorned, which only resulted in more hate. Maybe he was destined to only pity and hate himself, some kind of weird paradox. It would fit. Just another joke in the spiraling shit stain that was his life.

"Eridan?" The purple blood's head shot up, surprised by the voice. He spun around in his swivel chair, daring to hope that the voice belonged to who he thought it did.

Nepeta stood in the middle of his room, looking unsure of herself. Her eyes seemed to lack pupils, but he didn't care. She was there, and that was all that mattered. Before he could catch himself, Eridan leaped to his feet hugged her. He'd never been so glad to see someone in his entire life.

"Oh god, Nep, I saw your blood on Gam's pin and I thought for sure you were dead and—" Then, he finally realized what he was doing, what he was saying, and where he was, and he quickly released her and stepped back, blushing.

"... Sorry. I guess you are dead." It was the only thing he could think of to say after that. Truth was, he'd been crushing on Nepeta for a while. He'd talked to her once about it, but she'd turned him down like all the rest. He thought he was over her, mostly anyway, but when he saw that blood on Gamzee's juggling pin, he'd freaked out inside. This seemed to confirm things.

To his surprise, Nepeta laughed.

"Yeah, I guess I am. The lioness suppawses she made a stupid mistake! But she is 0kay with that." She grinned. "Being dead isn't pawll bad! We've got these dream bubbles to play around in!"

"Dream bubbles?" Eridan asked. "Like, the ones we go in when we're asleep?"

"Yup! Except, now we're in them all the time!" She grabbed hold of his arm. "You look like you need cheering up, anyway!" Eridan couldn't help but grin in response as she began pulling him around, out of his room and into yet more dream bubbles. He saw Equius, Tavros, Aradia. People he knew were dead. But, he was dead, too. And so was Nepeta.

Maybe they weren't alive. Maybe she didn't feel the same way for him that he did for her. But, there was time. And he had hope.

For once, he had hope.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

I really liked Eridan. I've really liked Eridan for a while. And, while I admit I laughed some when he died too, I also felt really sad. So, I sort of rolled all of it up into this little fic full of Eridan angst and self-loathing, but with a little hope at the end. Because I think he needs to realize that there's always hope.

Also, I ship Eridan Nepeta. :P

[Graven_Image]

What a joke. Him, his title, this game. All of it was a joke. The Horrorterrors were probably out there laughing it up, watching as they killed each another, one by one, and taking bets on who was next.

What's that a metaphor for, I wonder. :P

[draconicAlgorithm]

What a joke. Him, his title, this game. All of it was a joke. The Horrorterrors were probably out there laughing it up, watching as they killed each another, one by one, and taking bets on who was next.

What's that a metaphor for, I wonder. :P

... That actually wasn't my intent. But it fits, so now it is. :3

[Katrika]

GUESS WHAT, GUYS.

I'm working on Knight of Hope RIGHT NOW. That is right, you will get not one but TWO of my fics in a day.

=D

[SkaianRedeemer]

@Jim Groovester: I'm not much of a fan of an infodump, especially in detective fiction (I'm not going to outright call it a mystery, yet), but WQ does seem like the type, doesn't she? We'll have to see where you're going with this.

[Katrika]

After this, Guide of Space, and then, the FINALE.

Knight of Hope

show spoiler

hide spoiler

I’m the dumb, pretty one. That’s all, really. I remember one time in fifth grade, we all had to get in groups and come up with one good thing to say about the rest of the group members. I was ‘cute.’ Not smart, or funny, or even nice. ‘Cute.’ That’s when I realized that that was all I was ever going to be.

I did what all the other pretty airheads did, and became popular. But I couldn’t even do that right. You see, I’m just not really mean enough to rise to the top of the social world. Not good at cutting insults or backhanded compliments. It didn’t help that my dad isn’t exactly the richest guy in the world, and my clothes tended to come from thrift stores. I guess I was what you’d call a c-list social butterfly, holding onto my position by being bossed around and bitched at by the actual popular girls. Still, I figured that was as far as I was going to rise. After all, what was I? Nothing.

Then something horrible and great happened all at once! It turns out I’m not just the dumb pretty one. I, Lily Temple, am the Knight of Hope. I know what you’re thinking. Weren’t knights all dudes? But it turns out that I have what it takes to be one, in this game that’s not really a game. I’ve got good reflexes and strength from the cheer team. It takes a lot of upper body strength to be on the bottom of the pyramid! And I can totally get into the whole helping people vibe. I’ve got a talent for fighting, and I guess now I know why my dad was so insistant on me learning fencing.

This is the first time in a long long time that I’ve felt good about myself, and now I want to help everyone else feel good! I know they’re scared. Phil has been sad for a long time, because of Ellen. He doesn’t like to show it, but me and Phil teamed up together for most of this game. Sometimes when it was late and we were setting up camp, he’d start talking about her, and I’d just listen. I think that’s what he really wanted, you know? Someone to listen.

Paul, well, Paul’s been getting worse and worse ever since this game started. A lot of it has to do with Phil. Paul and Phil used to be really good friends. Gale said they were inseperable! But now Phil blames Paul, and Paul’s just been shrinking more and more into himself. He disappears for long stretches of time on business. The scary thing is, I think he’s gone a lot more often then he lets us see. He looks so tired. I wish I could give him hope.

Gale and Sharon, they seem to be doing pretty well! I’m pretty sure they’re in love. Isn’t it great? Unlike Paul and Phil, sburb seems to be making them stronger, better people, like it did with me! Oh, but that might be selling Phil and Paul short. Sorry, Phil and Paul.

Emma is Emma! I used to be kind of jealous of her, you know? Because she’s so smart and thoughtful, and nobody called her slut or airhead or anything! But she’s been really nice to me, and patient when there’s something I don’t understand. She’s the planner of the group. She’s been showing me poetry when we have time.

Anyway, I’m not worried about tomorrow. I’ve got my friends, and they have me, and all we need is each other! We compliment each other, strengthen each other. We’ll do this.

It’s like that one poem says. Hope is the thing unfettered!

Author's Notes

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Yes, that's a deliberate misquote. The actual line is 'hope is the thing with feathers', but Lily is a bit of an airhead, and this actually fits her better.

[ceruleanTresses]

2x songfic combo!!!!!!!! (Don't get too excited, they are pretty crap. )

First, a KarkatTerezi, as requested. Pre-Scratch, naturally.

Let's Fly Up Into Skaia Together

show spoiler

hide spoiler

1’V3 L3G1SL4C3R4T3D, 1V3 L4RP3D 4ND FL4RP3D 4ROUND
BUT 1 KN3W 1T W4SN’T 3NOUGH D33P DOWN
4ND K4RK4T, TH3 MOM3NT 1 GOT 4 WH1FF OF YOU
1 KN3W MY LON3LY D4YS W3R3 THROUGH

SEER OF MIND, WE MET LONG AGO,
BUT IT TOOK ME SWEEPS TO SEE WHAT I NOW KNOW.
FUCKING WEIRD THOUGH YOU ARE, I CAN’T DENY WHAT’S TRUE:
TEREZI, I LOVE YOU!

(together)
L3TS FLY UP 1NTO SK414 TOG3TH3R
LET’S FLY UP INTO SKAIA TOGETHER,

R3D BLOOD 4ND GL4SS3S, S1D3 BY S1D3
RED BLOOD AND GLASSES, SIDE BY SIDE.

WH3N TH3 G4M3 1S THROUGH, 1LL B3 H3R3 W1TH YOU
WHEN THE GAME IS THROUGH, I’LL BE HERE WITH YOU.

AND I KNOW YOU’LL 4LW4YS B3 MY GU1D3.
AND I KNOW YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MY GUIDE.

(separately)
1LL BE YOUR M4T3SPR1T, YOU’LL B3 MY N3W TOY
MY JOB’S TO LEAD, YOURS TO ANNOY.
WH3N TH3 G4M3 1S DON3, OUR COLORS WILL B3 BL3ND1NG
LIKE A ROMCOM WITH A HAPPY ENDING.

(together)
L3TS FLY UP 1NTO SK414 TOG3THER
LET’S FLY UP INTO SKAIA TOGETHER,

R3D BLOOD 4ND GL4SS3S S1D3 BY S1D3
RED BLOOD AND GLASSES SIDE BY SIDE.

WH3N TH3 GAME 1S THROUGH, 1LL B3 H3R3 W1TH YOU
WHEN THE GAME IS THROUGH, I’LL BE HERE WITH YOU.

AND I KNOW YOU’LL 4LW4YS B3 MY GU1D3.
AND I KNOW YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MY GUIDE.

Original song.


And second, a quick "PCG c3 Jade c3 FCG" one. I played a bit fast and loose with the rhyme scheme on this one, but then so did the original version.

GREEN EYES

show spoiler

hide spoiler

HARLEY, YOU ARE THE ROCK
UPON WHICH I STAND.
AND I WANTED TO TALK,
TO MAKE YOU UNDERSTAND,

THAT GREEN EYES,
I WAS FRACTURED, ‘TIL I KNEW YOU.
AND I WISH I’D BEEN LESS DOUCHEY TO YOU.

I HATE MY OTHER SELVES,
BUT THEY SEEM LESS RETARDED, SINCE I MET YOU.
AND HARLEY, YOU SHOULD KNOW,
I DON’T THINK I COULD GO ON WITHOUT YOU.

GREEN EYES

HARLEY, YOU ARE THE ONE
WHO MAKES ME FEEL WHOLE.
PAST, FUTURE, AND NOW
FORMING A SINGLE SOUL.

AND GREEN EYES, YOU’RE THE ONE PAST ME NEEDED TO FIND,
AND IF THAT IDIOT TRIES TO DENY IT, THEN HE’S OUT OF HIS MIND.

‘CAUSE I REALLY HATE MYSELF,
BUT I GUESS I’M NOT SO AWFUL, SINCE I MET YOU.
HARLEY, YOU SHOULD KNOW,
I COULD NEVER GO ON WITHOUT YOU.

GREEN EYES
GREEN EYES

YOU MAKE ME WHOLE (4x)

HARLEY, YOU ARE THE ROCK,
UPON WHICH I STAND...

password fuckass!

Original song.

Ugh, these are awful. Seems I can't write happy. I will make my next project something incredibly depressing, I think. I've got songs for Sollux and Aradia in mind.

[Kassiopeia]

Did someone say incredibly depressing? I MAY HAVE JUST THE THING FOR YOU. (Mom/Dad, very short, basically a response to the latest update)

Content

show spoiler

hide spoiler

The rising wind blows cool and dry over the battlefield, carrying with it the scent of distant streams and valleys, and her heart stirs a little with longing for the places she will never see.

"He must be a very talented boy. This is quite some weather," she says, her hair whipping in the breeze like pale leaves. He nods slightly, deep creases of pride forming at the corners of his mouth.

The glasses of wine and cups of tea are shaking, tinkling like windchimes that tremble, amber and pale gold and red, red, red. She is drunk enough that the world seems pleasantly liquid, but not enough that the sticky claret stains on the tablecloth aren't troubling.

"We did right by them," he says.

"Easy for you to say," she says.

She doesn't want to die here, in this smooth anaemic place, all grey earth and sunless light. It has not been easy to live with the knowledge that she will witness the end of the old universe and perish before the new can rise. It has not been pleasant to know the intimate details of the game code whose execution will destroy her. It has been almost unbearable to know that Rose will face unimaginable struggles alone.

They have all learnt to live with the knowledge, dealing with it the way everyone does. Wine, love, distractions. Strider with his insane heroic bravado.

But sometimes fate is kind. Now she knows that her daughter will have her friends at her side, and she herself will face death in good company.

"It's time," she says, and they stand, holding hands.

A/N

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Hi, fic thread. It's been a while. Sorry I don't have anything better to offer!

[anonymousComrade]

I swear I'm building to a climax here, give it time

Crossing Over: Chapter 12b

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Aradia paused for a moment as she searched through the halls of the meteor complex. Eridan swore he was here, but could he have been mistaken? Some of these dream bubbles were empty, after all.

An unmistakable howl coming from the end of the corridor put all doubt out of her mind. She rounded the corner and saw robot parts, everywhere. But these weren't Equius's usual droids.

"Why, Aradia? Cease this f001ishness at once!"

Around him were many scrapped Aradiabots, but hundreds more still stood. "y0u were n0t str0ng en0ugh to save her," they remarked in unison.
"I c00ld not raise my hand against the highb100d."
"and s0 y0ur m0irail paid f0r y0ur mistake with her life."
"No! Gamzee is the one responsible!"
"y0u c0uld have st0pped him. had y0u d0ne s0, nepeta w0uld still be alive. but far be it fr0m a l0wly bluebl00d t0 rise ab0ve his stati0n f0r the g00d 0f an0ther."
"Stop this at once!"
"y0u prize y0ur strength t0 the p0int that y0u define y0urself by it. but it is s0und and fury, signifying n0thing. y0u were n0t str0ng en0ugh t0 defeat the subjugglat0r. y0u were n0t str0ng en0ugh to rescue y0ur bel0ved nepeta."
Every standing Aradiabot began to advance on Equius. "and now, y0u are n0t str0ng en0ugh t0 live."

"that's n0t true! i believe in equius!" Every Aradiabot turned to meet the face of their flesh-and-blood counterpart as Equius himself stood in shock. Unlike most other bubble dreamers, he was painfully aware from the beginning how many times this scene had repeated itself. This had never happened, in any iteration. What new torment did the horrorterrors have in store for him?

A wave of her hand, and every robot was trapped, frozen in time. "equius. perhaps y0u did hesitate in y0ur c0nfr0ntati0n with gamzee. but i d0nt see that as weakness!"
"Lies. My reluctance to strike was based solely on b100d color, and it is time I admitted my weakness."
"that may have had s0mething t0 d0 with it but i think there was an0ther reas0n! gamzee has been y0ur c0mrade since we began sgrub. i think, perhaps, y0u f0und y0urself unable to raise y0ur fist against 0ne y0u c0nsidered an ally."
"Perhaps. But it is still too late. Nepeta is dead, by the hands of the highb100d."
Aradia giggled. "d0 y0u think thats really a pr0blem? maid 0f time, remember?"

Step back.

Equius found himself kneeling before the Bard of Rage again. Nothing seemed to move.

Behind Gamzee stood Aradia. A sutble flick of her wrist, and the world unfroze in time. Gamzee approached Equius, broken bow in hand, as had happened countless times before. Aradia nodded at Equius and smiled at him, as if to say "y0u can d0 it!" Before Gamzee could wrap the bowstring around Equius's throat, this time, he sprang into action.

STRONG HEADBUTT! The force of Equius's skull crashing into his ribcage knocked the wind out of the bard. STRONG KICK! The force of the sweep caused Gamzee to spin in the air briefly before crashing to the ground on his back. Equius knelt over the downed subjugglator. STRONG STAB! Equius pulled the arrow from his leg and drove it through Gamzee's chest. He cocked back his fist... STRONG PUNCH! Purple coated the crater where Gamzee's head had been.

A triumphant cry sounded from somewhere above him. A series of crashes, then the grate covering the air vent clattered to the ground as a very excited Nepeta sprang forth.

"*'you did it! you really did it!!!' the excited kitty exclaims!*"
"I must admit I had some assistance." Equius gestured toward Aradia.

As she approached the moirails, the world around them shattered like glass.

"i am certain equius already kn0ws, but this was a dream bubble, meant t0 h0ld y0u pris0ner t0 y0ur negative em0ti0ns. we have br0ken the cycle that sustains it, and thus destr0yed it."
"*the furrocious hunter cat wonders if this means she and her meowrail are already dead*"
"sadly, yes. b0th y0u and equius were slain. but a plan is underway to und0 y0ur 0wn deaths, al0ng with that 0f 0ur friends."
Aradia retrieved a pair of crystal balls from her inventory. "the humans created these as a means 0f escape fr0m this awful place. will y0u c0me with me?"
"*the kitty cat agrees to abscond with her furriend aradia and her meowrail equius!*"
"I too shall make my escape."

The two of them touched the crystal spheres, filling them with their essence. From one, a blue light glowed; from the other, a green flame burned from within.

Notes:

show spoiler

hide spoiler

In which I prove I can't write Equius, also that I can't make puns to save my life

So in the last bit I posted I said I probably couldn't write that much about Equius's rescue! Turns out I was wrong

My biggest fear, at this point, is that this part of the story is just straight-up boring (ahahahaha like the rest of it isn't). I mean yeah, rescuing people from Hell is the distilled essence of what is happening here, but if I can't make that exciting then I am doing it very wrong.

[Sionnan]

@Kass: I loved it. Short, sweet, very poignant and evocative. It has a good, if painful, sense of closure. Which is something I didn't expect to have re: the update. Thank you.

The latest update is also prompting me to write, though I have no idea what...

[KarneWarrior]

Chalk
I kill a turtle

show spoiler

hide spoiler

There are many creationism legends on Discworld. some say it has always been. The priests of Om belive that he created the heavens, the planet, everything in seven days. Most think that the Gods created the landscape slowly. Still others think that the universe was created by a fat old man with a silly accent, sitting at home on a strange device, attempting to write a storybook.

These are all hopelessly wrong.

But the creation of the universe doesn'ty matter. What does matter was that the Great Atuin, the mammoth turtle that held four elephants that held Discworld on their backs, was dying. It was dying, not due to old age, not due to some long forgotten evil, not due to the folly of man nor dwarf. No, the Great Atuin was dying because the Great Atuin was swimming through his Mother-in-law's territory, and she was quite litterally talking him to death.

"I don't know WHY you won't get a job, it can't be that hard you're a space-faring turtle! If that doesn't at least land you a place at the local fast food place I don't know what will. And what's that on your back-"

"Oh my lord will you please SHUT UP?"

"- And is that a planet on there? That's horrible you need to let those poor people down and let them have a normal life with a normal, round planet I mean look at it it's squashed flat. Those poor dears, and those poor elephants too they can't possibly be holding up well with that lump of rock on their backs, tell me you give them health insurance-"

And though it seemed like this was always going to happen, it was meant to happen, and if you thought that it would even be true, the real reason was a game. A game played by the worst wizard ever to set foot on Discworld, a strange Tourist, a young Witch, and one captain of the Guard.

And it would be great fun.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Yeah so who didn't see this coming?

[lucidSeraph]

Did someone say incredibly depressing? I MAY HAVE JUST THE THING FOR YOU. (Mom/Dad, very short, basically a response to the latest update)

Content

show spoiler

hide spoiler

The rising wind blows cool and dry over the battlefield, carrying with it the scent of distant streams and valleys, and her heart stirs a little with longing for the places she will never see.

"He must be a very talented boy. This is quite some weather," she says, her hair whipping in the breeze like pale leaves. He nods slightly, deep creases of pride forming at the corners of his mouth.

The glasses of wine and cups of tea are shaking, tinkling like windchimes that tremble, amber and pale gold and red, red, red. She is drunk enough that the world seems pleasantly liquid, but not enough that the sticky claret stains on the tablecloth aren't troubling.

"We did right by them," he says.

"Easy for you to say," she says.

She doesn't want to die here, in this smooth anaemic place, all grey earth and sunless light. It has not been easy to live with the knowledge that she will witness the end of the old universe and perish before the new can rise. It has not been pleasant to know the intimate details of the game code whose execution will destroy her. It has been almost unbearable to know that Rose will face unimaginable struggles alone.

They have all learnt to live with the knowledge, dealing with it the way everyone does. Wine, love, distractions. Strider with his insane heroic bravado.

But sometimes fate is kind. Now she knows that her daughter will have her friends at her side, and she herself will face death in good company.

"It's time," she says, and they stand, holding hands.

A/N

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Hi, fic thread. It's been a while. Sorry I don't have anything better to offer!

THIS IS BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT

[PingZing]

Red Pen - I love The End and What Comes After! Seeing the trolls as adults and doing stuff is a favorite of mine, and since Conquest stopped updating, I've been missing that particular concept.

Penguinbound - I am intrigued by this and wish to see it continue...

Jim - Well, at least WQ is aware of her faults, I guess. I'm really enjoying that you brought in PI.

Lantadyme - Ooooh, I am enjoying this. It's not the first time I've seen this, but it's probably the most faithful to Alternian Troll psychology (as much as that can be considered an actual thing, anyway)

Got around to finishing another part of Hot Blooded; in which we approach the present and our hero is mercilessly abused. Spot the (not-so) subtle Chrono Trigger reference and win a cookie.

Chapter One can be found here.

Hot Blooded: Chapter Two

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Tarfus knew that amusing the Grand Highblood was generally as good as a pardon. On the other hand, most did not usually do so by slaughtering those guarding them after plotting to overthrow the Empress. As far as he knew, he was sort of a special case.

So, as he was smashed to the ground for the second time that night, he wasn’t very surprised. By his reckoning, he had extended his lifespan by hours, perhaps days, but not many.

He was surprised to find a detachment of Royal Honor Guardemolishers waiting for him outside. They wasted no time shackling him and seizing him from the Subjuggalators. The Guardemolishers were the strong right arm of the Empress, loyal to her personally, and her alone. Every one of them was a purple-blood and by extension, a water-dwelling aristocrat. Hand-picked from the ranks of the Threshecutioners and competent to a fault, every one of them was said to be as strong as five trolls. Each one of them wore an immaculately pressed black cloak with purple trim. Each wore the insignia of the Guardemolishers on their left breast; a violent double-ended trident. Beneath that the individual trolls wore their personal signs, printed much smaller.

Their presence here was more than merely troubling. As the Empress’ personal guard, it suggested that she was either nearby, or had sent them to fetch Tarfus personally. The first possibility made him smile ruefully—his intelligence had been right after all, for all the good it did now. The second possibility was…highly unpleasant. The Empress historically took an exceedingly dim view of assassination attempts. If she had sent the Royal Guardemolishers after him, Tarfus couldn’t imagine that he’d be made anything but an example of.

The Guardemolisher nearest him seized Tarfus by his wrist, and the one opposite him did the same for the opposite wrist. Their hands hovered next to the hafts of their sickles, ready to draw them if Tarfus showed the first sign of resistance. Their grip on his wrists was vise-tight, Tarfus dug his nails into the heel of his hand to avoid crying out. A third ‘Demolisher approached him, and stared mutely at Tarfus.

“You know,” Tarfus rasped, looking at the ground, “I must be doing something right if I got the Waterboys involved, eh? Means Queen Bitch is worried about something, doesn’t it? Sad little freak-blood like me being this much of a—”

Tarfus never even saw the other troll move, but he certainly felt the backhanded slap across the face. His head snapped backward from the blow, sending spittle and flecks of blood flying.

He laughed. “Oh, tough guy! Now I get it! It’s not me the Empress is afraid of! It’s my little secret. Can’t let it get out to everybody that the mutant’s got a bigger bone bulge than the entirety of the water-dwellers! After all, I don’t see you storming the castle alone and almost winning!”

Another backhand, from the other direction this time. He spat reddish gobs of mucus.

Tarfus was spouting nonsense and he knew it. He knew he was going to die soon, but goddammit, he refused to go down without doing as much damage as he could. If some of that damage was wigglerishly insulting the elite royal guard in the hope that they would lose their cool, then so be it. He didn’t care any more. If his fate was to die, he would simply laugh.

So he did. He laughed and he said, “That all you got? I’ve met hopbeasts that hit harder than that! C’mon, put some dorsal supportive spinal structure into it! Make the candy-red fly, big man!”

A fist to the face sent Tarfus reeling. The Guardemolishers’ faces remained impassive, but Tarfus swore he saw the one delivering the beating clenching his fists more tightly.

Tarfus took a moment to regain his bearings. He’d bitten his tongue after that blow, and he was seeing double. He laughed even harder.

“Hah! Hah! Hah! Hah…yeah, you like that, huh? Makes you feel good! Beat up the mutant! Beat up the freak! He can’t fight back, show him what he deserves! Or…” Tarfus paused, and lowered his voice, “…are you waxing black for me, buddy?”

Tarfus grinned as the Guardemolisher finally lost his stoic detachment. Tarfus caught a glimpse of the ‘Demolisher’s face contorted by (entirely platonic) rage for an instant before the knee caught him in the face and finally, blessedly, he lost consciousness.

Maybe I’ll be with them soon, was his last thought before blackness overcame him.

Notes

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Not really sure if I like that last line or not. I can't decide if it feels just right, or abruptly sappy.

[DJ-P0N3]

Are alternate sessions still a thing?


Sylph of Doom

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Isn’t it neat?
The end of the world.

I sat there on my porch watching the sky glow red, trails of orange yellow descended down onto the world below. I was in my families mansion at the time, I was so naïve and unaware. I had no idea what was happening until my mother came bursting in my room, blood staining her dress.

She called out to me, she was crying profusely. I didn’t understand what she was saying. How could I? The red on her dress matched the blue spirals on the soft white silk so perfectly. I was entranced by it, but there was no time for standing around.

She pulled on my arm, it hurt. It started to hurt and I could feel tears stream down my cheeks. They were cold, and the air was warm. She pulled me through the halls and down the stairs; she would not stop talking about our safe house. How we had to get down to the bunkers.

She kept talking so much she didn’t notice where she was going. She misstepped.
Then, just like that, she fell.

I looked down and saw her sprawled on the ground, in a bloodied mess. I could see her bones and her everything. It looked so pretty in the moonlight, even with the orange and yellow. It was such a warm look for her. It was contradictory to her cold attitude, and I loved it.

Even now, I still enjoy how it looked. The red flows beautifully in my Land of Pulse and Twine. The elegance of a lavishly red heart twisted with threads of various colors. How they complement one another so. I traipsed across the landscape as it pulsated and emanated a delicious red color. I could see the veins interlacing with the varying materials. It was so pretty.
It was all so pretty.
I looked up at the sky and saw Skaia, it was so nice and blue. It reminded me of him.

Whom I had replaced.

After my mother died I took the old dirt road behind my home and went to see Jeremy. He had been on the computer at the time, talking to one his internet friends. He seemed surprised to see me, he told me I needed to be careful, how the world was ending.

I didn’t care, I was just bored really.

He walked over to his kernelsprite, he had prepared to place a doll in it. An old an army man toy with binoculars. He thought it would be a simple prototyping, it would have been had I not tripped and bumped into him. The army man was sucked into the sprite, while he fell out the window. The glass shattered and a loud crunching sound was made outside of his room. I checked on him, the glass shards cutting my hands as I leaned out the window.

He was sprawled out, just like mother. Except his body clashed horribly with the colors. He had ruined the majesty that was the end. I turned away, disgusted with his disappointment. Even in death he wasn’t pretty to look at.

The message beeped, and I answered.

He noticed I wasn’t Jeremy, I told him my name was Elina. He said it was a pretty name. He didn’t seem to notice how his friend had just died. Or maybe he just didn’t care, then again, neither did I.

In the present now I am about to meet him for the first time, face to face. He would tell me all about how he would be my knight in shining armor, how once this was over we would be together forever. He would tell me how I would take his breath away with my beauty.

I will have to make an honest man out of him.
After all, he would look so good with a purple complexion.

Knight of Breath

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Neigh.
I rode across the Land of Clouds and Quakes upon my mighty stead. His hooves trotted on the fluff of ever violently shaking white. How I had looked forward to this day, the day I would be the hero instead of the bullied nerd at school. It seemed like only yesterday I had been being beaten senseless for my lunch money.

It had been a long day and I was being pushed and shoved. The scrapes on my knees back then were from the cold, hard pavement I would fall down onto as I was bruised by the ruffians that had surrounded me day in and day out. I coughed up a tooth and all they did was berate me and demand all of my cash, all of it.

I scrounged up what I could back then doing odd jobs. Back then I was a pathetic push over anyone could have stepped on.
But now.

Now.

I was the one who was in charge. I lead my team of five through the incipisphere and their worlds, defeating the imps and ogres we had mutated with our prototypings. Their ugly heads were reared high and with my blade did I behead them quick. Part of me wished I could do this to those bullies, but I suppose their likeness will do.

How did that come about again.

How.

I had been in my room when it happened. A loud knocking was heard at my door. They barged in and started yelling at me, blaming me for the end of the world. Said it was all my fault because I was a stupid dumb nerd. I was scared, I didn’t know what to do. He raised his fist to punch me. He swung his fist and then he…..he sobbed on my shoulder. He held me tight and wouldn’t stop crying about how scared HE was. How he was sorry for everything he had done, I was confused.

I would confide in him after entering the Medium how I forgave him for it. He had shown humanity and empathy, even if it was too little too late. As he and I shifted into the medium and entered my land, I quickly learned how dangerous it was. He would soon perish at the hands of uncertainty and absurdity. In return for his kindness I chose to prototype him, and bring him back.

Only for him to die in the future.
Only for me to get to kill him over and over.
Because I hated him.

The concept of hatred is idiotic to me now. I looked back on what I had done and sighed, I was such a fool. I had been weak to let him bully me, I had been depraved to take pleasure in killing what looked like him. More so I was disturbed for even wanting to do it.

Yet I still do it.

I will continue to do it too, until I have finally won this game and taken with me my princess. My lovely Elina, whom awaits me on her Land of Pulse and Twine. First, however, I must make my way through the Thief of Hope’s land, his Land of Facades and Harmony. So onward my stead! Together we shall ride into the next gate, and strive to the highest tier imaginable. Our voices will be heard, and when they ask us if we are men, we will say ‘nay’.
Neigh.
We are gods.

Prince of Time

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Tick.

I traversed through this land once before, but I do not recall when or why. Indeed my mind continues to play tricks on me as I continue to try to comprehend what has happened since my arrival in the medium. I remembered since I had entered that I had already died. I wondered if it was a premonition beforehand, but realized it couldn’t be.

Tock.

Back before all of this started I just enjoyed playing on the soccer team after school. I loved the feel of the grass on my bare skin. It was intensified only be the competitive thickness that filled the air. Our bodies would clash and we sweat from our exhaustion. It was the greatest way to relieve the stress I would build up day in and day out.

Tick.

Now this horrible place. This Land of Wealth and Freefall. If I made one wrong step I could end it all now. I wait for a few seconds and there it is. In my mind, a memory of doing just that. The feel of the painful coin covered ground caressing my soft, broken flesh. The blood would pool around me and feel as if a warm blanket had covered me. How I wanted that to be true of me, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Because I remembered it.

Tock.

I remembered how I entered the medium. I looked up at the sky and saw it raining down over head like the sweat on my brow did. Except it did not glisten in the sunlight like my sweat. It tore through the sky and set it ablaze with the horrible truth we would all die.

Tick.

Everyone but me.

Tock.

I think I will go visit the Seer of Space, I am sure she would be able to do the deed. If not she could surely cheer me up. So I will just have to move towards my next gate, and on the way I will remember all the ways I could have offed myself, but didn’t.

Tick.

Because I am a fucking pansy.

Tock.

Seer of Space

show spoiler

hide spoiler

I stuck the landing on that last pirouette. I used to do ballet all the time, but now I hardly ever have the time to enjoy it. My consorts all clapped for me as I would dance and tantalize them with my elegant moves. All their combined laughter and nakking made me join in on their good times.

I would trip and fall flat on my face, but we’d still laugh.

We would always laugh, just like I did back when I was at school. I was part of the Chess club, the Cheerleader Squad, and even the Student Council. I was a wonderful child and I enjoyed all of it. I would sit across from Brad in Chess club, and he would hold my hand and whisper in my ear how I, Saria, was simply the most beautiful girl in the world. I would let him win because of that. He was too sweet for his own good though, and he ended up being used by everyone.

Even me.

For when I first had to enter the medium I was crying because I was so scared. I called him and begged him to come to me, to rescue me, I wasn’t sure why I chose him out of everybody. Maybe it was because I knew he wouldn’t say no, because he loved me.

But I didn’t love him.

The meteor came hurtling at me so fast I closed my eyes and held onto him tightly as he carried me to safety. I don’t know what he did next, all I do know is that I woke up in his arms. His dead, withered arms. He sacrificed himself to save me, and I would never be able to thank him for it. So I decided to live on and win this game in memorial to him. I put all my heart and soul into this dance.

And the next, and the next.

I would show off to my consorts the energy and grace that comes with being a perfect child, with a perfect family. My consorts would clap and I would just keep dancing. I would forget all about what I was supposed to do, and what was needed of me. In my Land of Decay and Frogs. Of course the frogs didn’t mind it either, they just ribbited with me as their flesh rotted away.

I wouldn’t start the breeding process for a long time. By the time I would though, I could see it all. I could see my friends, I could see Brad and my parents.

I could see into forever.

Thief of Hope

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Stupid dumb, dumb and stupid.
What does my title even mean?
Thief of Hope, it feels so stupid I hate it and I don’t care about it because it means jackshit
Look at me, the Thief of Hope in the Land of Facades and Harmony. The world is never as it seems and the chorus never stops it musing. I can’t even think straight with all this damn noise. I look at the sky and I see faces and abominations just staring back at me.

Mocking me.

Not like the ground was any better, I could look at my feet and see the ground swirling and making all sorts of disgusting forms. I could swear I saw my own face in it with anguish as my emotion. I kicked the ground and would have tried to destroy if it weren’t for the fact I knew it wasn’t part of my destiny for this stupid game.

Why did I even get involved?

I was just sitting in my living room while my parents were screaming, just like everyone else. I had been prepared for this day since I had seen it in a dream. I knew the world was going to end, I fucking called it and none of the bastards even listened to a word I said. I started getting messaged by my friend about all this malarkey, and then I found myself prototyping my old deck of cards because why the fuck not?

Then I found myself dealing with all this same dumb asshattery and bullshit I wanted to get the fuck away from in the real world. Or is this still the real world? Its just a game and yet within all its symbolism and tragedy it still feels so god damn real. I could kill myself here and I would be dead forever, right? I am not dumb enough to test shit like that, but it sure is an interesting thought.

I would keep on asking what it meant. I would bother each and every one of my friends about what it meant for me to be the Thief of Hope. They all said it was probably some sort of play on words, how maybe I would ‘steal the show’ or ‘get us the hope from our foes’. I don’t know.

It was a bunch of bullshit then and it is now.

I could always just go with what the chorus is singing. Maybe its time I stopped tuning the fuckers out and actually listened to what they had to say. So for once I paid attention, I heard what they were singing. It was melodious and beautiful.

I couldn’t believe I had tried to keep such majesty from my mind. It was like listening to your favorite band while you were high. It was just so amazing and hypnotic. I would keep listening, lost in the freeflow that was this façade.

Then I heard it.
A faint whisper at first.
It started screaming in my god damn ear.
It would not shut up.

I packed my things into my Sylladex and withdrew my epee from my Specibus. I think I figured out what I was supposed to do with that title of mine.

Next stop, the Land of Pulse and Twine.
Time to be the Thief of Hope, and steal the motherfucking show.

[apocalypticCritic]

Chalk
I kill a turtle

show spoiler

hide spoiler

There are many creationism legends on Discworld. some say it has always been. The priests of Om belive that he created the heavens, the planet, everything in seven days. Most think that the Gods created the landscape slowly. Still others think that the universe was created by a fat old man with a silly accent, sitting at home on a strange device, attempting to write a storybook.

These are all hopelessly wrong.

But the creation of the universe doesn'ty matter. What does matter was that the Great Atuin, the mammoth turtle that held four elephants that held Discworld on their backs, was dying. It was dying, not due to old age, not due to some long forgotten evil, not due to the folly of man nor dwarf. No, the Great Atuin was dying because the Great Atuin was swimming through his Mother-in-law's territory, and she was quite litterally talking him to death.

"I don't know WHY you won't get a job, it can't be that hard you're a space-faring turtle! If that doesn't at least land you a place at the local fast food place I don't know what will. And what's that on your back-"

"Oh my lord will you please SHUT UP?"

"- And is that a planet on there? That's horrible you need to let those poor people down and let them have a normal life with a normal, round planet I mean look at it it's squashed flat. Those poor dears, and those poor elephants too they can't possibly be holding up well with that lump of rock on their backs, tell me you give them health insurance-"

And though it seemed like this was always going to happen, it was meant to happen, and if you thought that it would even be true, the real reason was a game. A game played by the worst wizard ever to set foot on Discworld, a strange Tourist, a young Witch, and one captain of the Guard.

And it would be great fun.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Yeah so who didn't see this coming?

....

I love you. I'm going to bear your children.

[Katrika]

Oh god AC you're going to have to fight me first, because DAMN I love you, Karne.

[apocalypticCritic]

Oh god AC you're going to have to fight me first, because DAMN I love you, Karne.

I will concede the battle, but not the war. HE WILL BE MINE!

Also, Jim, as I'm rereading Problem Sleuth, I have found a line that must be included sometime.

"It has a funny taste. You can't put your finger on it, but if you had to describe it you would say it has the flavor of INTENSE PAIN."

Possibly after PS takes another beating.

[KarneWarrior]

Chalk
I kill a turtle

show spoiler

hide spoiler

There are many creationism legends on Discworld. some say it has always been. The priests of Om belive that he created the heavens, the planet, everything in seven days. Most think that the Gods created the landscape slowly. Still others think that the universe was created by a fat old man with a silly accent, sitting at home on a strange device, attempting to write a storybook.

These are all hopelessly wrong.

But the creation of the universe doesn'ty matter. What does matter was that the Great Atuin, the mammoth turtle that held four elephants that held Discworld on their backs, was dying. It was dying, not due to old age, not due to some long forgotten evil, not due to the folly of man nor dwarf. No, the Great Atuin was dying because the Great Atuin was swimming through his Mother-in-law's territory, and she was quite litterally talking him to death.

"I don't know WHY you won't get a job, it can't be that hard you're a space-faring turtle! If that doesn't at least land you a place at the local fast food place I don't know what will. And what's that on your back-"

"Oh my lord will you please SHUT UP?"

"- And is that a planet on there? That's horrible you need to let those poor people down and let them have a normal life with a normal, round planet I mean look at it it's squashed flat. Those poor dears, and those poor elephants too they can't possibly be holding up well with that lump of rock on their backs, tell me you give them health insurance-"

And though it seemed like this was always going to happen, it was meant to happen, and if you thought that it would even be true, the real reason was a game. A game played by the worst wizard ever to set foot on Discworld, a strange Tourist, a young Witch, and one captain of the Guard.

And it would be great fun.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Yeah so who didn't see this coming?

....

I love you. I'm going to bear your children.

Thanks

Oh god AC you're going to have to fight me first, because DAMN I love you, Karne.

I finally have girls fighting over me.
My life is complete.

[Sionnan]

Dad!fic. Not inspired per se by recent updates, but definitely prompted by them.

Mr. Egbert reflects on his mother and his son.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Sometimes he sits in the dusk of the living room, feeling his muscles relaxing in fractions, watching Mom's portrait.

It's hard. He himself doesn't remember being John's age, but he knew that Mom, with her endless sense of mischief and equally vast compassion, would have known what to do or say in every situation. Times when he all he could offer was a hug (that was mostly endured) and a second helping of dinner (which was barely tolerated), he felt lost. Almost equally as lost, no doubt, as John did, who did not need an adult who was floundering as badly as he was.

It was easier to resort to treating John when he was an age that the older Egbert understood him better. Even a year or two ago, he knew what would bring John out of a slump, or how to treat him if he was being too crabby. Now, it was as if John's poles had switched, and whenever Mr. Egbert attempted to address his son, it felt a little like running a gambit. Suggesting he watch one of his favorite movies when he was down would provoke an even heftier sigh, fetched from the bottom of his son's belly, and telling him to go work off some steam by playing outside earned a supremely frustrated yell, generally accompanied by hands being clapped over his face, many of the times to hide tears of frustration.

And as mysterious as John found these new mood swings, his father was just as thrown by them. Though he was a middle aged man, it was still an entirely new experience raising a boy just emerging as a teenager.

Sitting in the living room, sipping a snifter of brandy to aid with the loosening joints, he often pondered what Mom would do, or say. He pondered how she remained so young, even when she was an octagenarian and significantly older than her only son. He wondered how she could have ever put up with such a shy and practical minded man such as himself, how she put her soul into a joke shop while he fretted endlessly about revenue and recoups and turn overs.

He would realize that age was never a factor when plumbing the depths of a person's hopes, fears, and dreams. John was very much like his Nana, though he would never know it; they both possessed the same, ephemereal spirit, limitless font of trust in the brightness of the future, and selflessness. He cherished them both for being so free and clear minded, when it was hard for him to even see a horizon, his nose always down to countless reams of number-dotted papers.

He would realize that beneath John's growing impatience and testiness, there was a strong foundation of his mother in the boy's nature. As much as he watched his mother, the last likeness of her hanging above the mantlepiece, where he always kept a flame burning for her, he watched his son. He watched him restrain his frustration with his father and put up with his fussing, and consume more than was probably healthy for him in one sitting. And he would, sometimes grudgingly, anticipate a hug was needed, and give it to him before he could spring it on his boy.

Mr. Egbert woud sit in the dark, and think of his family.

[Graven_Image]

@Kass: Yes.

@KW: YES.

@PZ: That last snark = YES.

@MSB: Go man go. Keep writing, you've got the personality down.

[smerker]

You are all awesome.
Karne, you drew out a chronic lurker. How do you feel, with three or more people fighting over you?

[Graven_Image]

De-lurker?

Welcome to the brotherhood. *Fistbump*

[apocalypticCritic]

Chalk
I kill a turtle

show spoiler

hide spoiler

There are many creationism legends on Discworld. some say it has always been. The priests of Om belive that he created the heavens, the planet, everything in seven days. Most think that the Gods created the landscape slowly. Still others think that the universe was created by a fat old man with a silly accent, sitting at home on a strange device, attempting to write a storybook.

These are all hopelessly wrong.

But the creation of the universe doesn'ty matter. What does matter was that the Great Atuin, the mammoth turtle that held four elephants that held Discworld on their backs, was dying. It was dying, not due to old age, not due to some long forgotten evil, not due to the folly of man nor dwarf. No, the Great Atuin was dying because the Great Atuin was swimming through his Mother-in-law's territory, and she was quite litterally talking him to death.

"I don't know WHY you won't get a job, it can't be that hard you're a space-faring turtle! If that doesn't at least land you a place at the local fast food place I don't know what will. And what's that on your back-"

"Oh my lord will you please SHUT UP?"

"- And is that a planet on there? That's horrible you need to let those poor people down and let them have a normal life with a normal, round planet I mean look at it it's squashed flat. Those poor dears, and those poor elephants too they can't possibly be holding up well with that lump of rock on their backs, tell me you give them health insurance-"

And though it seemed like this was always going to happen, it was meant to happen, and if you thought that it would even be true, the real reason was a game. A game played by the worst wizard ever to set foot on Discworld, a strange Tourist, a young Witch, and one captain of the Guard.

And it would be great fun.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Yeah so who didn't see this coming?

....

I love you. I'm going to bear your children.

Thanks

Oh god AC you're going to have to fight me first, because DAMN I love you, Karne.

I finally have girls fighting over me.
My life is complete.

Actually, I'm a guy. And normally I don't swing that way. I am just that excited about this.

[PingZing]

Are alternate sessions still a thing?


Sylph of Doom

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Isn’t it neat?
The end of the world.

I sat there on my porch watching the sky glow red, trails of orange yellow descended down onto the world below. I was in my families mansion at the time, I was so naïve and unaware. I had no idea what was happening until my mother came bursting in my room, blood staining her dress.

She called out to me, she was crying profusely. I didn’t understand what she was saying. How could I? The red on her dress matched the blue spirals on the soft white silk so perfectly. I was entranced by it, but there was no time for standing around.

She pulled on my arm, it hurt. It started to hurt and I could feel tears stream down my cheeks. They were cold, and the air was warm. She pulled me through the halls and down the stairs; she would not stop talking about our safe house. How we had to get down to the bunkers.

She kept talking so much she didn’t notice where she was going. She misstepped.
Then, just like that, she fell.

I looked down and saw her sprawled on the ground, in a bloodied mess. I could see her bones and her everything. It looked so pretty in the moonlight, even with the orange and yellow. It was such a warm look for her. It was contradictory to her cold attitude, and I loved it.

Even now, I still enjoy how it looked. The red flows beautifully in my Land of Pulse and Twine. The elegance of a lavishly red heart twisted with threads of various colors. How they complement one another so. I traipsed across the landscape as it pulsated and emanated a delicious red color. I could see the veins interlacing with the varying materials. It was so pretty.
It was all so pretty.
I looked up at the sky and saw Skaia, it was so nice and blue. It reminded me of him.

Whom I had replaced.

After my mother died I took the old dirt road behind my home and went to see Jeremy. He had been on the computer at the time, talking to one his internet friends. He seemed surprised to see me, he told me I needed to be careful, how the world was ending.

I didn’t care, I was just bored really.

He walked over to his kernelsprite, he had prepared to place a doll in it. An old an army man toy with binoculars. He thought it would be a simple prototyping, it would have been had I not tripped and bumped into him. The army man was sucked into the sprite, while he fell out the window. The glass shattered and a loud crunching sound was made outside of his room. I checked on him, the glass shards cutting my hands as I leaned out the window.

He was sprawled out, just like mother. Except his body clashed horribly with the colors. He had ruined the majesty that was the end. I turned away, disgusted with his disappointment. Even in death he wasn’t pretty to look at.

The message beeped, and I answered.

He noticed I wasn’t Jeremy, I told him my name was Elina. He said it was a pretty name. He didn’t seem to notice how his friend had just died. Or maybe he just didn’t care, then again, neither did I.

In the present now I am about to meet him for the first time, face to face. He would tell me all about how he would be my knight in shining armor, how once this was over we would be together forever. He would tell me how I would take his breath away with my beauty.

I will have to make an honest man out of him.
After all, he would look so good with a purple complexion.

Knight of Breath

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Neigh.
I rode across the Land of Clouds and Quakes upon my mighty stead. His hooves trotted on the fluff of ever violently shaking white. How I had looked forward to this day, the day I would be the hero instead of the bullied nerd at school. It seemed like only yesterday I had been being beaten senseless for my lunch money.

It had been a long day and I was being pushed and shoved. The scrapes on my knees back then were from the cold, hard pavement I would fall down onto as I was bruised by the ruffians that had surrounded me day in and day out. I coughed up a tooth and all they did was berate me and demand all of my cash, all of it.

I scrounged up what I could back then doing odd jobs. Back then I was a pathetic push over anyone could have stepped on.
But now.

Now.

I was the one who was in charge. I lead my team of five through the incipisphere and their worlds, defeating the imps and ogres we had mutated with our prototypings. Their ugly heads were reared high and with my blade did I behead them quick. Part of me wished I could do this to those bullies, but I suppose their likeness will do.

How did that come about again.

How.

I had been in my room when it happened. A loud knocking was heard at my door. They barged in and started yelling at me, blaming me for the end of the world. Said it was all my fault because I was a stupid dumb nerd. I was scared, I didn’t know what to do. He raised his fist to punch me. He swung his fist and then he…..he sobbed on my shoulder. He held me tight and wouldn’t stop crying about how scared HE was. How he was sorry for everything he had done, I was confused.

I would confide in him after entering the Medium how I forgave him for it. He had shown humanity and empathy, even if it was too little too late. As he and I shifted into the medium and entered my land, I quickly learned how dangerous it was. He would soon perish at the hands of uncertainty and absurdity. In return for his kindness I chose to prototype him, and bring him back.

Only for him to die in the future.
Only for me to get to kill him over and over.
Because I hated him.

The concept of hatred is idiotic to me now. I looked back on what I had done and sighed, I was such a fool. I had been weak to let him bully me, I had been depraved to take pleasure in killing what looked like him. More so I was disturbed for even wanting to do it.

Yet I still do it.

I will continue to do it too, until I have finally won this game and taken with me my princess. My lovely Elina, whom awaits me on her Land of Pulse and Twine. First, however, I must make my way through the Thief of Hope’s land, his Land of Facades and Harmony. So onward my stead! Together we shall ride into the next gate, and strive to the highest tier imaginable. Our voices will be heard, and when they ask us if we are men, we will say ‘nay’.
Neigh.
We are gods.

Prince of Time

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Tick.

I traversed through this land once before, but I do not recall when or why. Indeed my mind continues to play tricks on me as I continue to try to comprehend what has happened since my arrival in the medium. I remembered since I had entered that I had already died. I wondered if it was a premonition beforehand, but realized it couldn’t be.

Tock.

Back before all of this started I just enjoyed playing on the soccer team after school. I loved the feel of the grass on my bare skin. It was intensified only be the competitive thickness that filled the air. Our bodies would clash and we sweat from our exhaustion. It was the greatest way to relieve the stress I would build up day in and day out.

Tick.

Now this horrible place. This Land of Wealth and Freefall. If I made one wrong step I could end it all now. I wait for a few seconds and there it is. In my mind, a memory of doing just that. The feel of the painful coin covered ground caressing my soft, broken flesh. The blood would pool around me and feel as if a warm blanket had covered me. How I wanted that to be true of me, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Because I remembered it.

Tock.

I remembered how I entered the medium. I looked up at the sky and saw it raining down over head like the sweat on my brow did. Except it did not glisten in the sunlight like my sweat. It tore through the sky and set it ablaze with the horrible truth we would all die.

Tick.

Everyone but me.

Tock.

I think I will go visit the Seer of Space, I am sure she would be able to do the deed. If not she could surely cheer me up. So I will just have to move towards my next gate, and on the way I will remember all the ways I could have offed myself, but didn’t.

Tick.

Because I am a fucking pansy.

Tock.

Seer of Space

show spoiler

hide spoiler

I stuck the landing on that last pirouette. I used to do ballet all the time, but now I hardly ever have the time to enjoy it. My consorts all clapped for me as I would dance and tantalize them with my elegant moves. All their combined laughter and nakking made me join in on their good times.

I would trip and fall flat on my face, but we’d still laugh.

We would always laugh, just like I did back when I was at school. I was part of the Chess club, the Cheerleader Squad, and even the Student Council. I was a wonderful child and I enjoyed all of it. I would sit across from Brad in Chess club, and he would hold my hand and whisper in my ear how I, Saria, was simply the most beautiful girl in the world. I would let him win because of that. He was too sweet for his own good though, and he ended up being used by everyone.

Even me.

For when I first had to enter the medium I was crying because I was so scared. I called him and begged him to come to me, to rescue me, I wasn’t sure why I chose him out of everybody. Maybe it was because I knew he wouldn’t say no, because he loved me.

But I didn’t love him.

The meteor came hurtling at me so fast I closed my eyes and held onto him tightly as he carried me to safety. I don’t know what he did next, all I do know is that I woke up in his arms. His dead, withered arms. He sacrificed himself to save me, and I would never be able to thank him for it. So I decided to live on and win this game in memorial to him. I put all my heart and soul into this dance.

And the next, and the next.

I would show off to my consorts the energy and grace that comes with being a perfect child, with a perfect family. My consorts would clap and I would just keep dancing. I would forget all about what I was supposed to do, and what was needed of me. In my Land of Decay and Frogs. Of course the frogs didn’t mind it either, they just ribbited with me as their flesh rotted away.

I wouldn’t start the breeding process for a long time. By the time I would though, I could see it all. I could see my friends, I could see Brad and my parents.

I could see into forever.

Thief of Hope

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Stupid dumb, dumb and stupid.
What does my title even mean?
Thief of Hope, it feels so stupid I hate it and I don’t care about it because it means jackshit
Look at me, the Thief of Hope in the Land of Facades and Harmony. The world is never as it seems and the chorus never stops it musing. I can’t even think straight with all this damn noise. I look at the sky and I see faces and abominations just staring back at me.

Mocking me.

Not like the ground was any better, I could look at my feet and see the ground swirling and making all sorts of disgusting forms. I could swear I saw my own face in it with anguish as my emotion. I kicked the ground and would have tried to destroy if it weren’t for the fact I knew it wasn’t part of my destiny for this stupid game.

Why did I even get involved?

I was just sitting in my living room while my parents were screaming, just like everyone else. I had been prepared for this day since I had seen it in a dream. I knew the world was going to end, I fucking called it and none of the bastards even listened to a word I said. I started getting messaged by my friend about all this malarkey, and then I found myself prototyping my old deck of cards because why the fuck not?

Then I found myself dealing with all this same dumb asshattery and bullshit I wanted to get the fuck away from in the real world. Or is this still the real world? Its just a game and yet within all its symbolism and tragedy it still feels so god damn real. I could kill myself here and I would be dead forever, right? I am not dumb enough to test shit like that, but it sure is an interesting thought.

I would keep on asking what it meant. I would bother each and every one of my friends about what it meant for me to be the Thief of Hope. They all said it was probably some sort of play on words, how maybe I would ‘steal the show’ or ‘get us the hope from our foes’. I don’t know.

It was a bunch of bullshit then and it is now.

I could always just go with what the chorus is singing. Maybe its time I stopped tuning the fuckers out and actually listened to what they had to say. So for once I paid attention, I heard what they were singing. It was melodious and beautiful.

I couldn’t believe I had tried to keep such majesty from my mind. It was like listening to your favorite band while you were high. It was just so amazing and hypnotic. I would keep listening, lost in the freeflow that was this façade.

Then I heard it.
A faint whisper at first.
It started screaming in my god damn ear.
It would not shut up.

I packed my things into my Sylladex and withdrew my epee from my Specibus. I think I figured out what I was supposed to do with that title of mine.

Next stop, the Land of Pulse and Twine.
Time to be the Thief of Hope, and steal the motherfucking show.

I should certainly hope they are. All your characters are supremely, beautifully twisted. Were you intending to continue this? (I hope the answer is yes!)

[smerker]

De-lurker? No. But I might learn to comment if you guys keep being amazing.