Daisuke7777 |
Posted: 03-13-2003 , 10:32
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K' -- KOF
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Ara? Oro? Eh?
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::
applauds :: These introductions have been great so far. I'm
thoroughly entertained Good job.. and oh, :: points to his avatar :: It matches
Chipp, Sol, and Ky! XD
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Dry31
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Posted: 03-14-2003 , 03:10
AM |
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Judge/Jury/Executioner
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location:
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And
mine, too. -_-
My intro will eventually show up
here...
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Baka
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Posted: 03-14-2003 , 07:20
AM |
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Heaven or Hell?
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location:
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I
shall now post to try and get all five of the funky GGX avvies
happen in a row. TT, Ex, get yo asses over here 
Oh, and great RE info there. Maybe I should
actually play one one day...
Baka // Black
Angel // Salva Nos
"I'm not good- looking enough to be
party leader." - Robin Cook
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Bugenhagen |
Posted: 03-14-2003 , 05:01
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Hello, Mr. Forest Fairy!
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Right behind you.
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*dances like a drunken monkey*
That was
awesome.
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Switchblade |
Posted: 03-20-2003 , 03:02
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Road Warrior
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: In your fridge,
behind the mayo
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Intro
part 1. You may want to skip this one if you're of a sensitive
constitution.
The sun shone in through the hotel window,
only partially diffused by the cheap curtains. The light did little
to bother the occupants of the room’s only bed, both of whom had
stayed up far too late to be woken up by something as simple as
daybreak. That was where the shrill ringing of the telephone came
in.
It took a moment, but eventually one of the bed’s
occupants, a stunningly beautiful woman whose normally well-groomed
blonde hair was currently a tangled mess, stirred. With a soft,
angry growl she lifted her head off the pillow and leaned over her
companion, shivering slightly at the contact of warm naked flesh on
warm naked flesh. She paused to teasingly brush her bare breasts
across her partner’s back. Then she laughed softly and reached over
to grab the phone on the bedside table.
“Yes?” she said into
the receiver, her voice a low, sultry purr. She paused for a moment
to listen to the reply. “Oh, it’s you, boss.” Mature rolled her eyes
as the last word passed her lips, still disgusted at herself for her
submissive position under the petty man known as Rugal
Bernstein.
Rugal talked for several minutes, relaying a
series of instructions to the woman he thought of as nothing more
than his secretary. “Fine,” Mature replied once the orders were
fully delivered, “We’ll get right on it. And, sir? Next time we’d
appreciate it if you’d arrange a decent hotel room for us.”
Mature listened to her boss’s parting words then waited for the
click of the other line cutting out before hanging up the receiver
on her end.
“What did the idiot want now?” Vice asked,
reaching her arms up and folding them around Mature’s waist.
Mature looked down at the shorthaired brunette lying beside
her. “A hit. Apparently some weapon’s dealer won’t deliver the
goods. Rugal wants him gone.”
“How gone?” Vice asked, purring
like a cat as she hooked one of her legs around
Mature’s.
“Permanently.” The blonde answered with a wicked
smile. She then bent her head down and licked Vice’s
cheek.
“Mmm,” the brunette moaned as she nipped at Mature’s
neck, “I was hoping that was the case.” Vice then pushed her lips
fully against Mature’s soft flesh and bit into it, hard enough to
draw blood.
A small gasp escaped Mature’s lips, a combination
of pain and arousal that sounded like music to Vice’s ears. The
blonde woman pushed Vice’s face away from her neck and pressed the
other girl’s lips to her own. “I wish we had the time,” she said,
“But Rugal told us where the man is going to be in an hour, if we
don’t move fast we’ll miss him.”
“So,” Vice grinned, “Fuck or
kill? Hell of a choice.”
“Really?” Mature asked as she
untangled herself from her partner and climbed out of the
bed.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Vice laughed, “I’ll take
killing any day.”
Mature laughed back as she pulled some
clean underwear out of her suitcase. “Me?” she said, making sure she
had Vice’s eyes on her before she bent over to pull on her panties,
“I‘ll take both. Remember that, partner.”
Vice leaned back
her head and gave a hearty laugh at the blonde’s words. “Come on,”
she said after she calmed down, “You want to use the shower before
we go?”
“Not a bad idea,” Mature replied as she fastened the
clasp on the front of her bra. “We only have an hour, though, so
I’ll have to wait until afterwards. Besides, I’ll have plenty of
blood to wash off then, anyways.”
“Fine,” Vice said, “But I
am going to wash up. In case you hadn’t noticed I got all sweaty
last night. Are you sure,” she added as she walked over to Mature
and ran a hand up and down her back, “that you don’t want to join
me?”
“We have to be on time,” Mature said, placing a hand on
one of Vice’s breasts and pressing a sharp fingernail into the soft
flesh, eliciting an animalistic moan from the brunette.
“Late
for a kill?” Vice said in a soft voice, “Never.”
* *
*
John Crawley stood perfectly still, ears alert and muscles
tense as he leaned up against the wall of the parking garage.
Somewhere else in the complex h could hear a car pulling away, the
shrill squeal of its tires echoing in the cavernous building. John
sighed and looked at his watch. The night before he’d received a
phone call telling him to be at the garage by noon, promising help
in clearing his sullied name. John had no idea who the caller had
been, but any chance to get rid of the erroneous labels of arms
dealer and traitor that Mr. Big had affixed to his name was worth
any risk. John’s watch currently read 11:58, two minutes until the
arrival of his mysterious would-be benefactor.
“Are you
alone, Mr. Crawley?” a voice suddenly spoke up from the darkness of
the garage.
“Who’s there?” John demanded, raising his fists
in preparation of a fight.
“Calm down, my friend,” the voice
continued, a definite Spanish accent detectable in the words. “I’m
not here to hurt you, I’m here to offer
redemption.”
“Redemption, huh?” John said, already focusing
his chi to prepare a Mega-Smash. “Nice words, but try saying ‘em to
my face, chuckles.”
“As you wish,” the voice said. John heard
footsteps coming towards him from his right. The former military
pilot leapt back from the sound, his energy attack primed and ready
to launch. After wait seemed to be hours the shadows parted and
revealed the tall form of a bearded Spanish man dressed in an
expensive-looking business suit. “Laurence Blood,” the Spaniard said
with a bow.
“Blood, huh?” John said, “What does a creepy
dope like you want with me?”
“Your name’s been given a pretty
bad rap, John,” the man called Blood said, calmly walking over to
John. “My employer is giving you a chance to clear
it.”
“Employer? What the heck are you talking about?” John
backed up again, his guard lowering a little. “I ain’t no weapons
dealer, you know.”
“Yes,” Laurence said, “I know, as does Mr.
Krauser, my employer. Mr. Krauser would like to give you the option
to clear your good name by joining the two of us in an upcoming
tournament called the King of Fighters. If we win Mr. Krauser will
see to it that your name is cleared of any arms dealing charges. Are
you interested?”
“King of Fighters? Krauser? What’chu talkin’
‘bout, Laurence?”
“It’s pretty simple, Mr. Crawley,” Laurence
replied, “You, Mr. Krauser, and myself will form a team and compete
in the tournament. And when we win your good name will be restored.
Are you interested?”
John fully lowered his guard, reaching
up with one hand to scratch the back of his head. “I dunno. It
sounds okay, I guess. But I gotta know this: I’ve never heard of you
or this Krauser, so why do you want me to join your team, huh? Why
me?”
“Who cares?” Another voice, this one raspy and feminine,
suddenly spoke up. Once more the shadows parted, this time revealing
the forms of two beautiful young women, one a voluptuous blonde, the
other a tomboyish brunette. The blonde was dressed in a black and
white business suit, a long slit up one side of the skirt that bared
a slim leg. The brunette was dressed similarly, but her suit was
green and red. “After all,” the brunette said, “You’re going to be
six feet under long before KOF starts.”
“Hey!” John called
out to Laurence, “What the hell is this? These broads with
you?”
“Never seen them before,” Laurence replied. The
Spaniard grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled it open, revealing a
full Spanish bullfighter’s costume underneath, complete with flowing
red cape. “But whoever they are they’ve made a bad
mistake.”
“Mr. Crawley,” the blonde said in a low sultry
voice, “Our boss was very disappointed when you refused to supply
him with the weaponry he requested. We’re here to show you just how
disappointed.”
“Hey,” John said, “I don’t know who you’ve
been talking to, chicky-poo, but ol’ John don’t play the arms
dealing game. Never has, never will. Your boss just made a
mistake.”
“Probably,” Vice agreed, “He is an unmitigated
fool, but that’s no reason not to have some fun with
you.”
“What about the other one?” Mature asked her partner,
“Any reason to let him live?”
“None I can think of,” Vice
replied.
“Good,” the blonde grinned. “Shall we?”
“On
three,” Vice said.
The two looked at each other and grinned.
“Three!” they shouted in unison. With blurring speed the two dashed
forward, reaching out fast and low with their arms. Laurence and
John leapt back, but it seemed as if the two women had impossibly
long reach. Vice and Mature’s arms connected at the same time, Vice
grabbing John while Mature took hold of Laurence. The two then
pulled back, sending their targets flying through the air. Laurence
landed hard on the hood of a Buick several feet behind Mature, but
as John flew towards her Vice leapt into the air, grabbed hold of
him, and slammed him hard into the ground.
“Have fun,” Mature
called to her partner as she ran over to the already rising
Laurence.
“Absolutely,” Vice replied as she pulled John up
onto his feet. “Come on, Johnny boy,” she then purred at her
opponent, “Don’t you want to play?”
“Thanks,” John said with
a surprising smile, “But no thanks.” The military man took a quick
step back and lashed out with a fierce kick. Vice managed to dodge
the kick, as well as the four which immediately followed it. “Yeah!”
he cried out, “Come on, baby!”
Vice said nothing in reply she
simply and suddenly charged forward, leading with her shoulder. John
attempted to sidestep the rush, but ultimately he proved too slow
and Vice slammed into him, audibly cracking a few ribs and sending
him flying backwards. Once again, though, Vice moved faster than her
victim and again caught him in midair. Instead of slamming him into
the ground, though, she instead launched him full-force into the
parking garage’s cement wall. John slammed into the wall with a
heavy crunch, the sheer force of his impact enough to crack the both
the wall and several of his bones. The blond military man slid down
the wall until his feet found the floor, several seconds after Vice
lightly touched down. Moving with a pain-induced slowness John
brought his arms up and started reaching for his chi, ready to
unleash his powerful Mega-Smash on the crazy woman who wanted him
dead.
Last
edited by Switchblade on 03-22-2003 at 12:16 AM
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Switchblade |
Posted: 03-20-2003 , 03:07
AM |
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Road Warrior
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: In your fridge,
behind the mayo
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And
the rest:
Before he could gather enough energy, though, Vice
had renewed her attack. She dashed forward a few feet then leapt
into the air, lashing out with a strong kick that slammed into
John’s face, smashing his nose into a bloody pulp. Just before she
touched down she spun around in the air and lashed out with her
other foot in a series of incredibly fast kicks, each one so swift
that it created a razor-sharp wind shear. After a series of eight or
nine slashes Vice let her foot fall and stepped back to examine her
handiwork. Each wind sheer had left a deep cut in John’s chest, and
Vice couldn’t help but smile as she watched the steady flow of blood
from his wounds. Vice gave a final, savage growl and charged John
again.
Once again her shoulder connected and sent John
flying back into the wall. John connected with a wet crunch, and as
the air rushed from his lungs he coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Then the light in his eyes slowly faded away and he slumped down
onto the ground, blood from his wounds pooling around his corpse.
With a savage grin Vice knelt down next to John’s body and traced
her fingers through the warm blood. Bringing her hand back up to her
face the brunette ran her tongue over her first two fingers. “Well,”
she purred, “I guess I’m done. There aren’t any more bones to
break.”
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Mature asked Laurence as the
Spaniard watched John Crawley die. “Well don’t worry, nothing like
that will happen to you. I like to take my time.” With that said
Mature pivoted on one foot and lashed out with the other, slamming
it into Laurence’s gut. The Spaniard groaned and clutched his
stomach, backing away from Mature as he did
so.
“B-b-b-bitch,” Laurence spat as he backed away. “Krauser
wanted that one!”
“Really?” Mature asked, lashing out with
one fist so fast that it caused a wind shear to shoot forward and
open a long, thin cut on Laurence’s cheek. “Too bad.” Another wind
shear cut open Laurence’s other cheek.
Laurence growled and
suddenly dashed forward, reaching inside his cape and pulling out a
sharp saber which he violently thrust towards Mature. Before he got
near her, though, Mature had already leapt into the air,
somersaulting over Laurence’s head and lashing out with another wind
shear slash, this one slicing the Spaniard’s right ear clean off his
head.
Although wounded Laurence didn’t slow down, instead he
used his momentum to spin around and whip his cape out towards
Mature. The red cloth lashed out and wrapped itself firmly around
the descending blonde’s right leg. “Gotcha!” Laurence grinned,
jerking back on the cloth in an attempt to impale Mature on his
poised sword. Far from phased the blonde assassin merely gave a
small pout before waving a hand upwards in a wide arc that sent a
long wind shear traveling through the cape, not only cutting it in
half but also managing to cut a wide gash in Laurence’s left arm.
“Bitch!” Laurence screamed out in pain, dropping his sword as he
clutched at his injured arm.
“Really, Mr. Blood,” Mature
smiled as she landed gently on her feet, “Is that the limit of your
vocabulary? I would have hoped that you could come up with something
more inventive. Something as simple as ‘bitch’ makes for poor last
words.”
“Maybe,” Laurence replied through gritted teeth, “But
I don’t intend for them to be my last. In fact I feel rather like
saying quite a bit more. Starting with this: Bloody Spin!” Laurence
suddenly leapt forward, spinning through the air towards Mature like
a whirling torpedo. Far from acting alarmed, however, Mature gave a
little laugh and jumped aside, swinging her arm in another wide arc,
as fast as she could. The resulting wind shear blazed towards
Laurence, slamming into him as he flew towards Mature’s former
location. A few seconds later Laurence’s face slammed into the paved
ground of the parking garage. Several feet away his legs and lower
abdomen also crashed down, quite separate from his upper
body.
Mature stood over Laurence’s severed upper half,
watching with sadistic pleasure as the dying Spaniard attempted to
speak, but nothing but blood issued from his mouth. “Good night
forever,” she softly whispered to him, “Have a million sweet
dreams.”
“Beautiful work,” Vice commented as she walked over
to join her companion, “Pretty fast for you, though.”
“That’s
the problem with men,” Mature replied, “They never last very long.
Just when you start having fun…”
Vice reached up and ran a
finger across Mature’s cheek, leaving a red streak of blood on
Mature’s ivory skin. “Fun, eh?” the brunette asked. “I remember how
well a good kill can turn you on. Shall we play?”
Mature
responded by reaching up and grabbing hold of Vice’s neck with one
hand. She slowly backed the brunette up against the wall, not
stopping until she was resting in the cracked indentation she’d made
while fighting John. Vice smiled and gave an animalistic growl as
she stretched her arms up over her head and clasped her hands
together. Mature responded with an equally primal purr and pressed
her lips against Vice’s, biting down on the brunette’s lower lip
until she drew blood. The blonde then started to press her
fingernails into Vice’s neck, eagerly awaiting the glorious moment
when they’d bite through the flesh and bring the sweet red fluid
trickling to the surface. Before she could achieve penetration,
however, both she and Vice disappeared in a sudden flash of
light.
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ETP
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Posted: 03-20-2003 , 11:29
PM |
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humble canadian
 Registered: Nov 2002 Location: Stratford, Ontario,
Canada Favorite Character: GGXX Zappa Astrological Sign: Gemini
Area_of_Interest: Illustration & Porn Level of Canadianliness:
98%
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Switchblade
Excellent work on your intro. You
definetely chose an interesting set of characters to portray.
Your writing during the fight sequences was easy to follow, and very
exciting. I look forward to seeing more in the
future.
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Baka
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Posted: 03-21-2003 , 08:26
PM |
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Heaven or Hell?
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location:
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Kiske 0:2 – Good Manners and
Customs
”Sir Ky! The east wing has fallen, and they’re
pushing us back to the north!”
“Got it! Rally the survivors
and pull back to the inner sanctum. We can still survive this!”
“What about the civilians? There are still commoners back
there?”
Damnit.. what were civilians doing there? Shouldn’t
the city have been evacuated by now? He hadn’t been able to
concentrate though, or maybe he would have remembered that sooner…
but not with Sol… not with what he had done…
“Sir! What
about the civili-ARGH!”
He remembered turning – Collins had
been a good man, and a fine soldier – turning and seeing the crazed
figure rip through the wall and though Collins… the blood in his
memory was still so red and fresh, and the Gear’s claws so white,
brilliant white… and he remembered asking the lord for forgiveness
for what he was about to do…
It took Ky no more than a
second to take in the red jacket, that flowing dark hair and the
amused sneer on the other man’s face.
“Sol!”
It was
Sol, indeed. The man Ky longed to meet again, the man who shadowed
him wherever he went, but…
Ky’s eyes dropped to the man’s
side, to the Fuuenken, the Fireseal. One of the Jinki, the eight
holy weapons, like Ky’s own Fuuraiken, the man had stolen it, so
long ago now. Eight weapons created to destroy Gears, and this man,
this… traitor… held one. And now he stood infront of Ky again,
looking around like this church, this place meant nothing to him. Ky
stood up, hand on his sword-hilt.
“Yo, Kiske. Didn’t expect
to see you here.” The man looked around nonchalantly, reaching into
a jacket pocket. A half-frown crossed his face, then he grinned and
reached into the other one, pulling a packet of cigarettes out.
Flipping the top open, he pulled one half-way out and grinned at Ky.
A rush of emotions flooded Ky’s head – conflicting thoughts.
Sol was here, but what would he say to him? Where had he been? Come
back with me? Return the Fuuenken? Or…
“Sol… why are you
here, now? Of all places, here?” Ky took a step forward, extending a
hand towards his rival. This time, friendship and reconciliation
beat down those other flickering feelings and thoughts to push Ky
towards the man. In answer, Sol pulled the cigarette out and placed
it in his mouth. Lighting it with a chrome zippo, he waved the
packet towards Ky. “Cigarette? No? Naw, you never were one for
‘vices of the flesh’, were ya?” As Ky’s jaw hung open, Sol
continued, ignoring his surprise. “So.. you see anyone else around
here? I’m kinda looking for someone.”
“No, I – what does that
have to do with anything, Sol? Why here? Of all places, why
here?”
“Dunno.” Sol shrugged. “Following a trail, it led
here. You sure you didn’t see anyone? Naw, scratch that. You don’t
know anything.”
Insolence, anger, even a simple answer, Ky
was expecting. He could have delt with that, even with a simple
denial, a rebuttal. But to be ignored? The arrogance of the man
still knew no bounds – in that way, the man hadn’t changed since
that day, all those years ago, when he had walked out on the Order,
leaving them to face a force far stronger than their own – “Sol, Sol
– why? Why did you leave?”
A cloud of smoke left Sol’s mouth
as he flicked some ash from his cigarette onto the stone floor. “Eh.
Obviously not here. Well, good to see you again, Kiske.” With that,
he span on his heel and began to walk away, humming quietly to
himself as he did so. Ky’s eyes narrowed. All his training told him
to hold back now, to let him leave, but..
A scraping noise
echoed through the room, past the sound of the rain, as Ky’s sword
left its sheath. Thunder rolled in the sky, almost as if the Lord
had sent it there on schedule, and Ky called out one word.
“Stop!”
Sol did stop, and he slowly turned to face Ky, a wry
grin on his face. “’Sup, Kiske? Why the serious look? Anyone would
think you had something on your mind?”
“Sol.. don’t you…
don’t you walk out on me again.” Ky’s voice was calm, but for a
slight tremor that gave away the raging bubble of emotion that he
kept strapped away at the back of his mind. “I’ve looked for you for
too long, and now we meet again, here of all place. Do you even know
what this place is?” He didn’t wait for Sol to give another
condescending reply – Ky’s mouth acted on its own now, churning out
the words he had longed to say for so long. “It was here, eight
years ago now, that you walked out on us – you left the Order, you
left Kliff, the man who took you in, looked after you – and you left
me – you left me and a hundred good men to face an army of Gears!
You took the Fuuenken – what right had you to steal from the Order?
You left us, and we were beaten back! We lost so many to that army –
men and women who were my friends – heck, they were your friends
too, and you abandoned them, us – to run off on your own! Why,
Sol, why?” Ky’s tirade ran out finally, his voice dropping to a
whisper for a final “why?”
Sol didn’t answer straight away.
He raised the cigarette to his mouth slowly, and took a deep drag,
all the time not removing his eyes from Ky’s. Lowering his
cigarette, he tapped the ash off, then looked down at the
half-smoked stick. Muttering a disgruntled ‘bah’, he stubbed it out
on the corner of the nearest pew – rotted and swollen from the rain
and the years – and dropped the dog-end on the floor. Looking up at
Ky again, he smudged it into the ground with his foot, then grinned.
“Later, Kiske.” he growled, then turned on his heel once
again to leave. As he reached the door, Sol ran one hand through his
hair. “If ya see that man, tell him I’m looking for him.”
Ky’s anger finally got the better of him. Crying out, he
swung the Fuuraiken down in a long sweeping arc, a bolt of lightning
arcing down the aisle to earth itself at Sol’s feet. “Sol… SOL!
Don’t you dare leave, damnit!””
Baka // Black
Angel // Salva Nos
"I'm not good- looking enough to be
party leader." - Robin Cook
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CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-21-2003 , 08:53
PM |
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Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
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Before
I post intro-stuffs... I explain. ;p
Technically, this is all
supposed to be one part of the intro in itself, but... due to the
character limit, it's quite broken into parts. ^^; Yah. Once I
finish the rest of it, it shall likewise follow suit in the same
manner. ^^
So, without ado...
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CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-21-2003 , 09:19
PM |
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Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
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Hisame Shizumaru -
Prologue:1
Memories...
That, I have little of,
I can say for certain. I am not sure what makes me this way, yet I
suspect it is the demon that dwells within my body that makes it so.
My old sensei, a man by the name of Haohmaru, ascertained that about
me when I was under his training, and I have reason to suspect that
he was right.
The demon inside of me... it surprises people
to know that it exists within, and they fear me because of it. Even
when I do not say anything about it, they eventually figure it out
somehow, and then... the endless circle that is my life begins anew.
They do not want demons in their presence; no one in the usual state
of mind would. Henceforth, they take it upon themselves to drive me
away, and the things that they have done to me... Haohmaru related
them to me once I would come back after such an incident, terrified
and sobbing -
... they make me glad, sometimes, that I cannot
remember the things they have done to me.
Those forgettable
occasions happen rarely, thankfully. Most of the time, they simply
throw stones at me in hopes to drive me away, and those that are
brave enough to touch me merely try to push me over or hit me. Yet,
I never strike back at them - not to say I am above such things -
simply, I have no need to attack them... I always trained to fight
the demon who wrought my curse upon me. If they think that it is
debasing to me, they are only debasing themselves in that matter...
by no fault of mine am I a demon, and that fact is
immutable.
I do have an excellent short-term memory, and the
attacks upon my body are common enough to where it is second nature.
Besides... the minor injuries they leave behind are proof enough
that they do that to me...
I cannot even remember what my
first meeting with Haohmaru was anymore; of course, I know that it
did happen... he is quite the character in his own right. In fact,
he was only the second person able to accept what I am, and I am
extremely grateful to him for that. The first was a lady who took me
in when I was yet an infant, and she was the one who named me
'Shizumaru', for I rarely ever spoke...
I speak much more
than I did then, but those occasions are only when need be. I do not
know what I would have to speak about - aside from the single clear
memories I do have... and if I could live without no memory
whatsoever, just so I could not remember those two, then I would in
a single beat of my heart. Those two memories haunt me with every
step, they invade my thoughts, they trespass on every breath I take
- and worst of all, I dream of them.
It is rare I have
pleasant dreams... nearly every time I find myself dreaming about
that night - about the demon who took away my freedom, my mother,
and birthed the demon within - and I am frightened awake, cold sweat
upon my brow, leaving it impossible for me to regain the tranquility
in sleep I desire. Even if a dream starts out kindly enough, it soon
transforms back into one manifestation or another of that night -
and there have been times when my mind will explore more...
primordial thoughts... those happen at a much higher frequency than
ever before. Surely, I would not have dreamt of such physical
pleasure at half the age I am now...
Could this be the
scheming of the demon...? I am tempted to think so...
There
have been occurences when I felt the demon shiver and tremble within
my body, but none were as painful as when I met the 'Eve' creature -
I still cannot say for sure whether the being was a demon or not,
but her lust for my blood was frighteningly akin to the needs of
some demons I've heard about. She ensnared me, somehow - and, yet...
the demon saved my life. I doubt the demon bothered to save me out
of compassion; rather, it was to keep me alive so that it, in turn,
would not die... a peculiar symbiosis exists between us.
Ever
since that awakening, however... the feeling of unease is steadily
growing. The nightmares have returned; not even my dreams can be in
serenity. At times I lose myself entirely to the feeling when I am
awake - my hearts beats so painfully, and I can taste the traces of
vomit on my breath before it ensares me completely.
I see the
demon vividly in my dreams, even now... it possesses my body, so,
somehow it is me - and yet it is not me at once. The color of my
hair is a deep red, so like my blood; his is the white of stars at
pure midnight. My skin is a fair ivory, his a sickly sort of yellow.
Tiger-like stripes frame his face, whisk across his arms and legs -
my features have no such markings. His expression is conniving,
sinister... a face that continues to smile wickedly upon me with
malice, even now.
His breath caresses my cheek - it always
makes me shudder by the sheer lack of warmth it carries with it. A
long, smooth nail follows the cool air - and it snaps back to slice
me across the face. His eyes - no, they are mine - flicker up to
meet my terrified gaze of horror. He stares at his hand bemusedly,
carefully examining it, and meticulously licking the blood off of
his nails. His shrill laugh suddenly rings in my ears, and my hands
immediately fly up to shield them from the noise - but it
reverberates within, getting louder; now his wicked smile has
returned, and he shows off his clawed fingers proudly to me - and my
breath is lost, suddenly, replaced by the bittersweet taste of blood
- staring down in horror, I realize - he has struck with his claws,
into my heart - and only pushing them through, deeper into my chest
- it hurts so much, I cannot make a sound, and I cannot possibly
move - delirious, all I can do is slip away; surrounded by his
sickening laughter -
"Shizumaru! Mezame yo! Wake
up!" the panicked voice of a young girl was what brought the young
man back into consciousness. "Shizu-kun...
Shizu-kun!"
"Wha... oh - Rimururu..." Shizumaru ran a hand
through his bittersweet hair, and sighed, feeling the moisture of
cold sweat on his forehead. Another nightmare. What'd he done this
time, send everything within a mile fleeing from his shrieks of
torture? "I... I woke you... I apologize - "
"You don't have
to," she shook her head. "You can't control what you dream - but it
sounded terrible... better to know that it was just a nightmare,
right?" she smiled.
"I suppose so," Shizumaru frowned. "But -
I fear that I have had such recurring dreams before..." Shaking his
head roughly, he settled his eyes on what little of the sky he could
see through the leaves of the tree the two had been sleeping under.
Slowly, he let his gaze fall back to the girl beside him, who was
frowning at his lack of concern...
Rimururu...
... and he looked away, glumly.
... why do you stay with someone like me?
"Doushite
no? WhatÕs the matter?" Rimururu asked him, and his eyes darted
back to hers again. Shizumaru shook his head - nothing to make a
fuss over - but the girl insisted upon prying. "Please... maybe I
can help - "
"T - they are merely dreams," he stammered
abruptly. "I will be fine... I promise you."
She ignored
that. "How long have these dreams been recurring?"
"... many
nights. Ever since we began our embark to Kyoto, in fact..." he
thought to himself out loud. "But, Rimururu... I do not think this
is something serious. Other people have the same dreams from night
to night... I suppose I am included in that
minority."
Rimururu raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, but
laughed, and continued her interrogation. "What were you dreaming
about?"
"A demon - " he blurted out, his usual response - it
was rare not to see one in his dreams, anyhow. " - It was a
nightmare, you see..."
"And that's what you've been having
too far many of," the Ainu girl snapped her finger at Shizumaru,
mockingly scolding him. "... have you even *had* one pure, happy
dream lately?"
He looked at her sadly - though she tried to
sound casual, he could see in her eyes that she was deeply concerned
for him. Not that he didn't appreciate her sentiment, no... but how
come she was so worried? Nodding silently, he tried to appease her -
no sense in depriving themselves of sleep over a simple
nightmare.
Simple nightmare? The same one had struck at him
night after night...
"That's good," she smiled happily.
"Well, if you're sure you'll be okay... oyasumi," Curling up
under a thin blanket, she closed her eyes, letting her head fall
against Shizumaru's shoulder, and soon was fast asleep again.
"Oyasumi nasai," he mumbled, but unlike the girl, he
stayed awake to think.
Why does she stay by my side...? I
can understand wanting help with her shoulder, but - how can I
possibly know what she desires from me? A travelling companion, a
friend... or maybe it's -
He stopped himself from the
dark thought on the edge of his mind. ... that could hardly be
what she wants... then again - far be it from me to try and unravel
the mysteries of a girl's mind...
Shizumaru closed his
eyes for a moment, exhaling deeply. He stared down at Rimururu
again, feeling her gentle, warm breath on his neck. Idly, he let
himself brush a finger ever-so-softly on her cheek before slumping
his own head down in fatigue.
--
IP: Logged |
|
CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-21-2003 , 09:43
PM |
|
Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
|
"How
long 'till we get to Kyoto?" Rimururu asked, bounding over a grassy
hill. "DidnÕt Kafuin-san say that what's-his-name would be
there?"
"'WhatÕs-his-name' is Haohmaru and he said that he
*might* be there," Shizumaru winked and smiled. "With any luck, we
should reach Gion within the hour."
"Oh, Gion, that's right,"
Rimururu laughed.
The two of them, since their unusual
meeting in a bamboo forest, had first gone to visit the elderly
monk, Kafuin Nikochin - well, Shizumaru had been heading in that
direction; Rimururu insisted on coming with when she realized how
far he was going to be traveling. It had taken a week to reach the
monk's home, another week under his hospitality (Shizumaru noted it
was plainly obvious he wanted Rimururu to stay behind), and another
week so far to get to Gion. Haohmaru hadnÕt been at Kafuin's, but,
the monk had thought that he would be in Kyoto - his old home - and
besides, if you knew the kinds of entertainment you could find
there...
"Oh, I see," she announced, at the top of a second
hill. "There's Kyoto... oh! The Imperial Palace - goodness, itÕs
enormous! How will we find our way to Gion?"
"I know how,"
Shizumaru caught up with her. "I have been with Haohmaru on some of
his visits here... follow me, and we will be fine." Saying that, he
took her hand, and they ran the rest of the way to the city.
"Oh wow..." Rimururu gasped in awe when they reached the
outskirts. "I've never seen an area so populated... Kamui Kotan is
busy, but surely not to this degree."
"Kamui Kotan? ... is
that your home?" Shizumaru turned to her, and she nodded. Urging her
on a bit, he slowed down amidst the crowds, looking at his
surroundings carefully, trying to find something that would trigger
a memory... nothing. Rimururu was still gaping at the height of the
Imperial Palace - it towered above the city. Shizumaru, though,
looked beyond the grand building, and stared into the horizon, where
the sun was setting, lighting the sky aflame in its beauty. The sun
set in the west, so they had arrived in the same direction, which
told him that Gion was to their right... tugging on Rimururu's hand
again, he led her through the streets of Kyoto (she wouldn't stop
staring at the Imperial Palace, though).
"I hate to sound
cruel, but... you, especially, would not be let into the Palace
because of your heritage..." Shizumaru sighed. "I hope I haven't -
"
"No... I didn't think I'd be able to get in anyway," the
girl faintly smiled. "Tall buildings are always important ones, and
I have no business in them, so I won't bother myself with those
thoughts..." Rimururu kept on staring, as Shizumaru led them to Gion
- the sunset was fading, gradually turning the sky into twilit
darkness... it was a perfect night. Not too warm, nor cold; the sky
was cloudless and the stars twinkled like the shine of
blades...
"Shizumaru?" Rimururu took her eyes off of the
Imperial Palace for a moment. "How in the world do you know when
you're at Gion...? There doesn't seem to be any signs or landmarks
that I can see..."
"Geisha," he answered simply. "They will
be out at night, I assure you... and Haohmaru was always quite
infamous with them. If he is here, all we have to do is inquire to
his whereabouts..." But, he frowned after the words left him. Easier
said than done - carrying on a conversation with a geisha was
tricky, especially if you happened on one of the wittier ones. They
were artful dodgers; always avoiding the subject if they could help
it. Besides, even if you managed to slip past her conversational
skills, they were dreadfully alluring, making it difficult to retain
composure. And, well, if you met a geisha equally endowed in
intelligence and beauty...
"I see," she smiled. "Oh! Is that
a geisha?" she pointed off somewhere - to a young lady in
yukata. Shizumaru shook his head in mirth, and she sighed.
"How can I tell them apart...?"
"You will know when you see
one," he laughed. Rimururu shrugged, and continued to let him lead
on. The streets were becoming yet more crowded, and Shizumaru nearly
lost hold of Rimururu's hand in the hustle and bustle of the night.
"Stay close to me," he warned her, and she nodded nervously. "We
must be close to Gion... the streets are very busy."
"That's
reassuring..." she squeaked, seeing a crowd of men leering at her.
Still nervous, she tightened her grip on Shizumaru's hand, and
continued to follow him diligently along. "Here's to hoping we get
to Gion soon..."
"Very soon. Shijo divides the district into
north and south, so once we find that street, we shall be there..."
Shizumaru smiled to reassure her, and scanned the horizon once more
for the familiar street. The area was getting more crowded, so they
should've arrived there, or at least been relatively close to the
district -
"Is *that* a geisha?" Rimururu tapped him on the
shoulder, and he swerved his eyes to where she pointed to.
He smiled and nodded. "Yes... that is a geisha. We must be
at Gion..." Holding Rimururu's hand, he led her over towards the
figure in kimono, the white face shockingly luminescent in the
moonlight, and the hair ornaments twinkling and glistening like dew
on flower petals.
"She's awfully beautiful..." The Ainu girl
resisted the urge to stare.
"He," Shizumaru laughed,
correcting her. "That is a male geisha, I'm afraid... you will not
see many in Gion, though - female geisha are considerably more
popular."
"... oh," she blushed, waving timidly at the geisha
- he'd overheard their conversation and was likewise chuckling at
her mistake. Frowning, she scooted quickly up to Shizumaru and
pouted a little. "It isn't funny..."
"Gomen nasai,"
Shizumaru nodded his head quickly in apology, then directed Rimururu
to the left - into south Gion. "Aa... all we have to do is find a
geisha that will be willing to help us out now..."
"They
don't look like they're willing to talk, Shizu-kun.." she bit her
lip. "They're all in such a hurry, it seems! Do you really think we
can talk to one?" Rimururu looked over at Shizumaru as she asked her
question, and blinked in surprise when she saw him blushing.
"Doushite no? Oh - oh..."
She heard the giggling of
girls around them, and finally realized why Shizumaru's face had
become so scarlet - they were fawning over him.
"Aa,
bishounen..." one of them sighed. "Kirei desu
ka?"
"Hai, kirei desu!" the other girl nodded.
"Utsukushii da..."
Still giggling, they passed in
front of them, and Rimururu stared at their dress - extravagant
kimono, tied in a marvellously long obi knot. "Goodness - is that
the way you tell that they're male or female - if they have longer
obi?"
"No..." Shizumaru mumbled, his face still red. "Those
were maiko - apprentice geisha..." Rimururu nodded, slowly, in
understanding, and continued to look around the streets of Gion,
looking at the people out on the town like they were, and when a
geisha happened to spring up, her eyes were immediately caught and
drawn in by their white face paint.
Shizumaru, on the other
hand, was frowning - how long had it been since he'd been to Gion,
or even Kyoto, for that matter? The geisha he would've met he
couldn't remember, and he barely recalled where everything in Gion
was... if Haohmaru was here, it was going to be a difficult search
for him.
"Ah, I would know that blood-red hair anywhere,
Hisame-san!" a voice laughed tauntingly in Shizumaru's ear, and he
spun around to meet who had spoken - a geisha, of course; who else
would've known him? She bowed lightly, and asked, "How long has it
been since Haohmaru brought you here, hm? Surely, you two could not
have had an argument and seperated; it would break my delicate heart
to see you two angry!"
Shizumaru tried to look the geisha
straight in the eye, but only flustered himself as he bowed to her.
"I... well, I needed to learn nothing from Haohmaru-sensei anymore,
so I... well, we parted ways, you see..." his voice had trembled a
fair sight more than he'd wanted it to.
"Midoriko-san had
wondered if she might see you again," she smiled, referring to
herself in third person sweetly, once she had noticed that Shizumaru
was unable to place her name. "What brings Hisame-san to Gion again?
Perhaps he's trying to sell this pretty Ainu girl... Hisame-san,
surely that wasn't what you were here for!" she smiled again, and it
only got broader as Shizumaru choked up again.
"Not at all,
Midoriko-san," Shizumaru shook his head. "I - er... you are not
terribly rushed, are you? I must ask you something, for you seem as
if you should know..."
Midoriko laughed, a hand innocently
over her mouth. "Midoriko-san has parties to go to, yes, but she's
hardly in a rush. Tell me what brings you here in such bashful
manner and haste, however; if you need to ask a geisha for what
troubles you, I can only imagine it's something dreadfully silly!
Geisha aren't much for old wisdom, you realize..."
"I need to
find Haohmaru-sensei," Shizumaru frowned. "Midoriko-san, perchance
you know if he is here? I have important business I must discuss
with him, and it must be as soon as possible."
"Midoriko-san
knows where Haohmaru-san is," she laughed again. "In Gion, as you
guessed correctly. He happens to be at the Ichiriki Teahouse on
invitation from the mistress, actually, and it's a wonder she ever
let him in with his reputation!" The Ichiriki Teahouse - a famous
spot in Kyoto, for not a hundred years earlier, it was where the
leader of the Fourty-seven Ronin had devised his revenge for their
master's death. Chuckling softly, Midoriko added: "I don't suppose
she would hesitate to let you in - she was rather fond of you as
well, I recall, and certainly, you were much more behaved and civil
than Haohmaru-san was!"
"Ara...Ó Shizumaru sighed. "I surely
hope she will let me in. My business with Haohmaru-sensei is of
utmost importance..."
IP: Logged |
|
CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-21-2003 , 10:31
PM |
|
Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
|
"Midoriko-san will go with Hisame-san to the door and
help," she smiled, seeing Shizumaru sigh in relief. "I doubt she
would let your friend in, though... the Ichiriki mistress would not
be fond of Ainu in the teahouse."
Shizumaru looked back to
Rimururu, worried that she would be offended, but it seemed like she
hadn't even expected she'd be allowed in in the first place - or
even that Shizumaru wouldn'tve been. Frowning, he turned back to
Midoriko, suddenly feeling the air become slightly thick and
stagnant. Quickly, he unslung his umbrella from his back,
anticipating rain.
"Why, Hisame-san!" Midoriko laughed. "I do
believe you've summoned this sudden weather! Who else but with a
name like yours could succeed in summoning rain to his
command?"
"It was not me," he said aimlessly, looking up at
the night sky - now becoming darkened with clouds, the smell of
moist earth wafting into his senses.
"Ah - pardon me for
asking, but..." Rimururu spoke behind them. "Where am I to stay
while Shizu-kun is talking? It smells like it's going to rain soon,
so - "
"Midoriko-san guesses that you will have to stay
outside, sadly..."
"... I see..." Rimururu looked towards the
ground, somewhat shamefully. Her reaction did not escape Shizumaru's
eyes, and he wondered for a moment if he should reassure her -
"The Ichiriki Teahouse," Midoriko stopped at the gate of a
tall fence, and Shizumaru looked at it, tilting his head back to see
how high it rose - the red fence and roof were nearly
indistinguishable at nighttime. "Haohmaru-san is in there at the
moment - please wait patiently, Hisame-san," the geisha bowed
politely, and lightly tapped a knuckle on the door, kneeling;
Shizumaru followed her actions precisely as the door slid open,
revealing one of the teahouse maids.
"Midoriko-san! What a
surprise to see you!" the maid was startled. "Please, why don't you
come in for a moment? I would hate to see your makeup ruined by this
rain we're going to get tonight!"
"I shall indeed step in for
a moment, Morimoto-san," Midoriko deeply, delicately bowed low to
the maid. "However, you see the young man before you as well, do you
not?"
"H - hajimemashite," Shizumaru nervously bowed
as well, and blushed when he saw Midoriko's worried frown. "I -
forgive my rudeness for being here..."
The maid looked down
at him - admiring his looks, Shizumaru thought, and flashed an even
brighter scarlet. "My my, Midoriko-san, what the bishounen
you've brought to the Ichiriki! What does he wish, I wonder? Why,
with those looks... I'd say that he's a fair sight more beautiful
than half of the geisha in Gion!"
He cringed in
embarrassment, and Midoriko quickly noticed and changed the subject.
"Ah, Morimoto-san, the bishounen is not here to be beautiful; he is
here to see a guest that the Ichiriki has graciously invited! I
daresay, can we ask the mistress's permission to let him see
Haohmaru-san? The young man has something urgent to talk to him
about, you see..."
"Urgent news, hm?" The maid tapped her
chin thoughtfully. "I'll bring it up... what's your name, for
reference? I can't just have you as a nameless bishounen, can I?"
she winked.
"Hisame Shizumaru," he tried to hide his scarlet
cheeks by bowing his head, letting his blood-red hair fall over his
face.
The maid blinked in surprise. "Hisame Shizumaru...?
Oh, goodness, you'll have an easier time being let in than I thought
- considering that I know I've seen you in here before!" she
laughed. "Itte kimasu!"
As the maid turned to leave,
Midoriko giggled with her hand over her mouth, which was covered up
in the sleeve of her kimono. "There's no need to be so bashful,
Hisame-san; you've been here before! I'm sure the mistress will let
you in post haste."
"I hope so," he sighed. Quickly, he
looked over his shoulder at Rimururu, who caught his eye with a
glint in hers, and she winked, showing her encouragement - which
made him feel still more hopeful that the mistress would let him in.
The air certainly felt thicker because of his anxiety, yes, but it
was almost certainly going to rain now, and he was worried about
Rimururu...
"Hisame-kun!" the maid called back, and he spun
his head around quickly. "The mistress is indeed allowing you in,
but I'm afraid only for this night's duration."
"See,
Hisame-san, miracles happen," Midoriko giggled, and stood up with a
flourish, helping him to his feet before walking into the teahouse
and removing her zori sandals.
Shizumaru hesitated before
walking in - he looked at Rimururu forlornly. Looking down at his
umbrella, Kirisame, he tossed it to the girl, who caught it with a
smile. "It will rain soon... I am sorry I cannot save you from the
cold, but I can save you from getting wet, at least," he bowed to
her, and as an afterthought, added: "... itte kimasu."
Rimururu nodded, and snapped open the umbrella, holding it above her
as she slumped to the ground. Shizumaru didn't see the slump - he
was already in the Ichiriki Teahouse. Quickly, he stepped out of his
own sandals, placing them next to Midoriko's, and looked around his
new surroundings - or rather, smelled them; what struck him
immediately was the musty smell of kuroyaki
perfume.
"Morimoto-san...?" he cautiously asked for the maid,
who appeared beside him like a sudden spring breeze. "Ah - where
*is* Haohmaru-sensei, if you would pardon my asking?"
"Oh!
Alright then, Hisame-kun, follow me," the maid smiled, and led him
down a hallway of wooden floor. On either side, rice paper-lined
doors hid clients in the middle of parties, and their laughter from
inside reached Shizumaru's ears, only serving to further his
anticipation for his meeting with Haohmaru.
"Now,
Haohmaru-san is with Sango-san and Gohan-san, so you had better be
polite to those two," the maid instructed him quietly, still leading
him down the hall. "If you need anything, send for me or any other
of the maids, okay?"
"Hai," Shizumaru nodded. Before
long, they stopped in front of a door, where Shizumaru could hear
the familiar chuckle of his old teacher, and the bright laughter of
the girls inside. "Here, I presume?"
"Yep. I'll leave you to
your business now," she bowed, and left Shizumaru to enter the room
on his own. His hand was poised to slide the door open, but he
hesitated. Slowly, he reached into his tunic and procured a
blood-stained slip of paper, with a sorrowful haiku written on it in
deep black ink. Rereading the haiku to himself silently, he closed
his eyes tightly, keeping back his remorse and solidifying his
resolve - then, he pushed aside his anxiety and slid open the
door.
Haohmaru was sitting at a low table, and across from
him, sat a geisha and an apprentice geisha - a maiko. Their
kimono was what his eyes were immediately drawn to at first - the
geisha's was a deep, sea blue, mainly because of the setting upon it
- a moonlit beach, with stars that seemed to twinkle all on their
own, as if they were not silk dots, but truly real... and her obi
was equally enchanting; a light lavender, etched with violet in
darker shades, contorting to form a pattern of overlapping flowers.
The maiko's kimono was even more exquisite than the geisha's, for
hers was a base silver, with bronze leaves falling in the wind, the
veins traced in gold, and the swirls of wind lightly outlined in
black. The obi she wore was tied in an elaborate knot nearly as high
as her shoulders, and it must've at least been as long as the width
of the room undone, judging by its streams - it was bronze, and sewn
into it were convoluted shapes done in gold. The length and color of
the obi that the maiko wore almost seemed to make her kimono
insiginificant...
Their hair was what struck him next. Both
had a lovely shine, both of them had been tied in infamous lobes,
and from both of their hairstyles, flowers were perched and
ornaments dangled. Again, the maiko's hairstyle caught him - it was
a split-peach bun, tied around bright red silk. The most peculiar
aspect of the maiko's hair was the fascinating part - exempting the
forelock, all of her hair was a pure snow white.
"Wouldn't
you know it; just who I was talking about!" Shizumaru snapped out of
his transfixiation - Haohmaru's laugh had startled him. The geisha
and maiko simultaneously flipped their heads to look at him, and the
young man suddenly felt the warmth of a blush on his face. They
smiled and bowed politely to him, and he bowed as well - although,
his was fraught with nervousness.
"Ah, Haohmaru-sensei...
shibaraku desu ne," he smiled softly, and sat next to his old
teacher. "It's been a long time since we last met."
"That it
has, Shizumaru-kun," Haohmaru grinned. "See, I told you he was a
polite one, ladies," he nodded his head towards the young man, and
both geisha and maiko smiled innocently.
"What coincidence it
truly is for two pairs of teacher and student to meet each other,"
the geisha laughed. "Although, Gohan has yet to reach her full
geisha status, unlike you, young man, who have grown beyond need of
a teacher..."
"You underestimate me, Sango-san," the
white-haired maiko smirked. "I am perfectly self-sufficient, and you
full well know it."
"When you're not entertaining, you are,
but as a maiko, you are not," the geisha pursed her lips. "Ah...
well, Haohmaru-san, at least your student has better manners than
mine! I can't say much the same for dear Gohan here."
"Well
now, how so?" Haohmaru asked. "Perhaps she needs someone to put her
back into place..." he waggled his eyes and winked, which sent Sango
into a fit of giggling, Gohan into a bright blush, and Shizumaru
into a facepalm.
"I do NOT need proper etiquitte lessons,
thank you very much," Gohan pouted.
IP: Logged |
|
CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-21-2003 , 11:16
PM |
|
Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
|
"You
see my point," Sango smiled, and Gohan's mouth hung open, gaping
like a fish, in exasperation. "Her manners aren't anything compared
to how she spends her time at her okiya, I'm afraid," she continued,
while the shade of red deepened on Gohan's cheeks. Shizumaru looked
curiously at the maiko's face - Gohan's eyes were a brilliant red,
hidden behind small, elegant glasses. Her skin was already so
deathly white, much as her hair was, that she hadn't bothered to use
a bit of the typical white facepaint - only her lips and eyebrows
had been finished... no wonder her blush was so
obvious.
"Miss Gohan," he asked her, "do you not wear your
facepaint because of your skin? It is so white already that I
presume you do not..."
Gohan tried to speak, but Sango held a
petite hand to her face, and spoke herself. "Such perception... and
you would be correct. There are many things that Gohan can get away
with because she is shiroko. The poor girl is often mistaken
for an elderly lady, however... if only she were as wise as
one."
"I suppose it's true, for I shirk my lessons often to
pursue more personal interests," Gohan played along, trying to hide
her annoyance at Sango. "I do very well at them when I do work at my
studies, however - I'm very good at playing my fue, you
know!"
"I would invite Gohan to play for you, if only she had
bothered to bring it," Sango rolled her eyes. "So forgetful she
is."
"I didn't forget, I just didn't think I'd be playing
it," the maiko frowned. "In any case, Haohmaru-san wouldn't want to
hear that - "
She looked at Shizumaru, who was holding the
blood-stained note, biting his lip anxiously, and looking up at
Haohmaru every so often. The young man noticed her gaze, and for a
second, they looked into each other's eyes. Both of them saw
something in the other they hadn't anticipated in the least... a
dark secret neither of them could share -
" - ... ah, er...
well, *he* might want to hear it," Gohan laughed nervously. "Pray
tell, you never gave my oneesan and I your name! Answer me if you
can tell me a way to carry on a good conversation without it..." Her
glasses twinkled mischeviously.
Shizumaru stared at her
blankly for a moment - did Sango know or realize what that secret
Gohan held within her eyes could do to her? Sighing and running an
idle hand through his blood-red hair, he muttered his name to the
girls: "Hisame Shizumaru."
"'Scarlet Rain Silence'? Why, what
an ominous name you have!" Sango laughed. "I surely hope that it
doesn't ring true for myself or Gohan!"
"I do not massacre; I
assure you," Shizumaru smiled, but his eyes flitted up to Gohan's
again, and she looked back, a forced smile on her lips.
"Nor
do I, if that is what Hisame-kun's look suggests," Gohan smirked.
"Just because I am shiroko does not mean that I'm
dangerous."
Shizumaru looked away from the maiko, who
continued to ponder what she had seen about him. Instead, he looked
up to Haohmaru, who had been listening to Sango and Gohan with bated
amusement. "Ah... Haohmaru-sensei," he began, "I have been meaning
to find you for a while. It was by chance I learned that you were
here..."
"I didn't realize you'd been looking for me, kid,"
Haohmaru grinned, and ruffled his hair a bit. "So, you have business
with me, hm?" For a moment, he paused, looking tentatively at Sango
and Gohan, and then leaned in to whisper. "It - is the demon hurting
you at all? If it is, I can - "
"Iie,
Haohmaru-sensei," Shizumaru shook his head. "It is not that... I was
given a message, nearly a month ago, and I was asked by the sender
to give it to you..."
"Well, go on, now, who's it from?" the
older man smiled down at him.
"... Tachibana
Ukyo..."
Haohmaru's face suddenly fell, and he was silent for
what seemed like an eternity. "... we'd better discuss that later,
Shizumaru-kun... now is not the time to discuss that, with the
present company," he nodded his head towards Sango and Gohan, and
Shizumaru nodded slowly. The girls had been silently arguing over
something while he and Haohmaru had briefly spoken, and they
squeaked, noticing that they were both looking at them
curiously.
"Ah! Haohmaru-san, Hisame-kun! Gohan and I were
just, er, talking..." Sango laughed. "I hadn't meant to ignore you,
I'm sorry - it's just that Gohan and I were trying to settle
something... she had this silly idea, you see, and I didn't think
that you would be willing to enjoy it, so - "
"Sango-san,
really, they both are masters of the sword, and you say that they
wouldnÕt enjoy it?" Gohan raised an eyebrow. "Her trouble was with
*me* in particular, you see."
"And just what did the maiko
have in mind for us, ne?" Haohmaru laughed. "She's had her
mizuage; I can only imagine the kind of thoughts she has
now..."
"NOT THAT, Haohmaru-san, not that at all!" she
blushed. "You see, I don't shirk my lessons because I am lazy... I
shirk them to practice something else. I used to live in an iaijutsu
dojo, and I studied the blade for years until I was sold to my okiya
to bring money to that dojo... and since I became an apprentice
geisha, I received a katana and tachi as gifts from one of Sango's
more wealthier patrons I met, after he learned of my background... "
she sighed, and continued on in a more innocent voice. "... and I
thought, since you are both fighters yourself and I haven't fought
in *so long*..."
"It's a foolish idea, Gohan," Sango rolled
her eyes. "Nobody wants you hurt, much less myself, and I very much
doubt that the mother of your okiya would want to pay your bills if
you did get injured!"
"Sango-san, you know perfectly well
that my debts to the okiya were quite more than covered with my
mizuage fee," Gohan frowned. "Onegai, Sango-san... toki wa ichi
dake! It's just for one night... and I can get my hair redone
tomorrow and everything! Please... please, Sango-san? Just one
night? We arenÕt entertaining anyone else and we arenÕt charging any
o-hana tonight anyway..." she looked as if she were about to cry,
and Sango seemed on the verge of letting her do it - her eyes were
darting around the room nervously, and she kept muttering 'oh, I
donÕt know...'
Finally, Sango threw her hands up in the air.
"You drive home a good point, Gohan... but it's your own fault if
you get yourself killed, alright? Duels are
dangerous..."
Gohan was bowing too low to see Sango's
concerned expression. "Domo arigatou gozaimasu... I swear I
won't embarrass you nor my okiya, Sango-san!" When she finally
straightened herself up, she was smiling brightly, and her eyes
seemed to be welling up with tears behind the elegant glasses she
wore. Beaming, she looked over at Haohmaru and Shizumaru, and
slapped her forehead. "Ahh, I completely forgot... you didn't give
your consent to fight, did you?"
"Well, why don't you go
ahead with that, Shizumaru-kun?" Haohmaru ruffled his hair again.
"You can use Fugudoku if you want - " he rattled his katana saya to
show what he meant - " - since you donÕt seem to have your Kirisame
with you..."
"Oh! Rimururu! I left it with Rimururu, that's
right..." Shizumaru gasped. "It must be raining out there now, and I
completely forgot about her..."
"Rimururu - ahh, that Ainu
girl? She's a cute one, isn't she?" he winked at Shizumaru, who
blushed again and frowned. "Yeah, yeah, I know you don't like to
talk about girls... but will you duel with one?" he waved his hand
at Gohan, who was holding her breath anxiously for his
response.
Hesitantly, he thought about that painful secret
which he had seen in her eyes - but who was he to deprive her of
that opportunity? After all, he harbored such a secret as well...
"... I suppose I can," Shizumaru nodded, slowly. "But mayhap you
know of a place where Rimururu can stay out of the rain?"
"I
can invite her to my house while we wait for Gohan to ready
herself," Sango sighed. "Be absolutely careful, now... it would
truly sadden my heart to see you perish."
"I will," Gohan
bowed deeply again, and turned to Shizumaru. "Thank you so much... I
haven't had an opponent in six years! I shall meet you in an hour at
Sango-san's house... be ready," she winked, "for I'm not a lady to
be underestimated," and scuttled out the door happily.
Sango
looked after her with forlorn eyes, and sighed deeply. "Gohan may be
beautiful as a geisha, she may be very good at performing and
entertaining, and she may be an expert with the sword... but she has
yet to learn humility, I am afraid. You heard her talk in here...
she has little respect for the way a geisha should properly act -
and, unfortunately, it's made her quite
popular..."
"Sango-san," Shizumaru looked off beyond her, to
the open rice-paper door that Gohan had slipped through. "I must ask
you a question about Gohan-chan, before the two of us proceed with
our duel."
"Certainly, Hisame-kun. What is it you wish to
know?" She put on a happier smile for him.
"I see it when I
look in her eyes, Sango-san..." he shivered to think of the feeling
that had passed over him when he had seen into them. "Do you know
what she is?"
Sango blinked nervously. "Why, Hisame-kun,
Gohan-chan is many things..."
"She is yasha." He
stared her in the eye. "A demon."
Sango's eyes flared open in
shock, and Haohmaru's features hardened - both were stunned. The
geisha regained her composure quickly, but she did not hide behind a
charming smile. The room was utterly silent, exempting the soft
patter of rain that had begun to fall outside.
"... I know,"
her voice trembled. "That is what has me so worried... but
Hisame-kun, how could you possibly tell?"
Shizumaru looked at
her sadly, and closed his eyes in shame... and the geisha
understood.
--
a long summerÕs day stretching
out the cold searching for the answers and some say IÕm not
alone
could you tell me where I might find fallen
horses their spirits they fly...
--
(first part
done~)
IP: Logged |
|
San_Draco |
Posted: 03-22-2003 , 01:19
PM |
|
El Bruje Sale
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: The realm between the
worlds...
|
In which the
rules of the game are introduced...
Shang
Tsung laughed. For the first time in many, many years, his plans
were coming together perfectly. The Dragon King’s invincible army of
undead was nearly awake, most of the soulless eyes glowed with an
unholy power.
As before, the sorcerer had organized a Mortal
Kombat, with the same goals as before… to garner the most powerful
souls to himself, and thereby grant himself power absolute and
undeniable. This time, however, he had an ally, and that ally had
granted him immortality.
And the souls. Ah, yes, the souls.
Quan Chi had offered Shang Tsung access to the heavens themselves,
with all the souls contained therein. All the Chinese sorcerer had
to do was reawaken the Dragon King’s army, and give them to Quan
Chi. And therein lay the problem.
Shang Tsung was no fool. He
knew that his relationship with Quan Chi was a purely business one,
and that he was expendable as soon as the army was awakened. The
question was how long it would take for Quan Chi to make his move.
The sorcerer was unconcerned, however. No matter how powerful his
contemporary might be, Shang Tsung had far more power and souls to
draw on, and without powerful allies, the pale one wouldn’t stand a
chance. Wouldn’t he?
A voice broke in on his thoughts. “Mr.
Shang Tsung, you have a guest. Quite a looker, too, I might add. She
says it’s urgent.” The sorcerer glared at Kano, somewhat annoyed at
being interrupted.
Then the sorcerer waved his hand, and the
far door to his inner hall flung open. In strode a very
scantily-clad woman, two sai strapped to her waist, and her black
hair flying in the wind. Shang Tsung smiled behind his goatee.
“Welcome, Li Mei. I have been expecting you.”
The woman
strode in, ignoring a interested stare from Kano. “I have fulfilled
my vow, my lord, and now I demand you to fulfill yours. Free myself
and my people!”
Shang Tsung smirked, and motioned to Kano.
“Bring our guest wine, and food. It must have been a tiring journey,
with little rest. While you rest, Li Mei, I shall prepare the
reception.”
To this, the woman eyed him suspiciously.
“Reception?”
A nod. “Such an important event needs the proper
atmosphere. And what could be more important than the freedom of an
entire race? This will be quite a special event, one that shall
shape the realms to come.”
As Kano began to leave, Shang
Tsung motioned him over, and whispered in his ear. “Get the amulet
from Quan Chi. After this, he will no longer have any reason to keep
me alive, and we must be prepared.” He didn’t need to add a threat.
And if I die, you will join me.
Kano gulped, and
nodded. Never mind that the amulet was the most protected item in
Quan Chi’s domain, and never mind that the chances of successfully
retrieving it were extremely low. His chances of surviving his many
opponents were much, much lower than that. The other Black Dragons
had learned that the hard way.
As the last of the Black
Dragons left, Shang Tsung turned to Li Mei. “There is one last
thing, my dear. I want to challenge you to one last battle. If I
win, then you will remain in my service. If you win, then I shall
not only free you and your people, but I shall separate their realm
from Outworld, out of my reach forever.”
Li Mei considered
this, then slowly shook her head. “No. I will take my freedom, and
be done with it. I don’t want to serve you any more than I need to.
Understood?”
The sorcerer smiled. “I’m afraid I do not. You
see, if you refuse the challenge, then you will have lost this
tournament, and that means that you and your people will be bound to
my forever. I’m sure you don’t want to falter now, since you’ve
gotten so far.”
At last, the full weight of Shang Tsung’s
words hit Li Mei. Her response was a quiet, yet dignified one. “Very
well. Let’s finish this.”
Kano smiled from behind the door.
Although he wanted to watch the battle, as Shang Tsung preferred to
avoid direct combat, he knew that his mission depended on his speed
and cunning. And luck. Though that tended to go against him at the
wrong time.
Back in the reception hall, Shang Tsung
unsheathed his straight sword. “Prepare yourself, Li Mei.” The woman
assumed her Mandarin Duck style, and smiled. “I am
ready.”
“Fight!” As he shouted, the sorcerer flung a
fireball at Li Mei, catching her in the face and flinging her
backwards. The woman, not to be outdone, flung a bolt of
electricity, though it was easy enough for Shang Tsung to dodge. In
the meantime, however, Li Mei lashed out with her long legs,
catching the mage in his face and knocking him down.
Shang
Tsung laughed. “Well done, Li Mei. Very well done.” As the
black-haired one stepped toward Shang Tsung, he whipped out with his
leg, tripping her and allowing him to stand up. Then he stabbed at
the ground with his sword, barely missing the woman as she dodged
aside. However, she was not expecting him to spin around with it,
and a small gash appeared on her right arm. She grimaced.
“A
cheap shot for a cheap man, sorcerer. Why don’t you fight me on even
grounds?” To this, Shang Tsung sheathed his sword, and shifted into
his Snake style kung fu.
She flew towards him, arms flailing
as she levitated across the arena. Though Shang Tsung managed to
block most of the blows, the sheer force his opponent generated
knocked him back. As she landed, Shang Tsung launched a roundhouse
kick, forcing her to block high. With blinding speed, he then swept
low, knocking her to the stone floor once again. As she picked
herself up, the thaumaturge flipped backwards, and gathered his
mystic energy. Li Mei expected a single bolt of fire heading towards
her, and therefore dodged to the side. However, Shang Tsung had
flung two of them in opposing arcs, and she ran right into the
right-hand one. The other slammed into her form a few seconds later,
and she reeled back.
Sensing an advantage, the sorcerer
dashed forward, attacking in a snake-like motion, aiming at his
opponent’s eyes. Just before he could hit, though, Li Mei grabbed
his hand, and kicked him in the stomach. As he doubled over, she
wrenched his body over her head, using her powerful right leg to
fling Shang Tsung far away. He staggered to his feet, and flung
another fireball at her.
Li Mei was prepared for that,
however, and she dodged it. Before Shang Tsung could recover from
the slight drain of casting a spell, she launched a deadly combo of
flying fists and feet, ending up flinging her foe into the stone
wall behind him. As he shook his head, attempting to regain his
bearings, she pulled out both of her sai. “This battle is over,
Shang Tsung.”
Utilizing a portal between his master’s castle
and Quan Chi’s, Kano arrived at his destination. Unlike Shang Tsung,
however, Quan Chi lacked servants and guards, which made Kano a very
happy man indeed. His mechanical eye swept the hallways, searching
for the man he knew to be somewhere in the castle. However, there
was nothing there… or so he hoped.
As Kano dashed through the
outer levels of the castle, he noticed just how empty the castle
was. No furniture, no sculptures, nothing. Just… blank nothingness.
Until he got closer to the core of the castle, where there was a
gradual increase in the decorations. Then, he stumbled into the very
heart of Quan Chi’s fortress… The Inner Sanctum
chambers.
Back in Shang Tsung’s castle, the sorcerer smiled.
“If you believe this battle to be over, then finish him!” His
opponent charged forward, attempting to impale his body against the
wall. However, he dodged to the side, barely. One of the sai scored
a gash against his side, and the sorcerer gritted his teeth.
“I yet live, Li Mei. Continue this battle!” As he said this,
Shang Tsung switched to his Crane style, sacrificing a strong
defensive stance for raw speed. As expected, Li Mei charged towards
him, and stabbed at him again. This time, however, Shang Tsung
grabbed her hand, and her entire attack rhythm was
destabilized.
With one smooth motion, Shang Tsung flung her
hand aside, and lashed out with a kick. It connected with her chin,
and was immediantly followed by two others. As she reeled back, he
followed it by three strong punches to her nose, and then jumped
into the air, whipping his left leg around and knocking Li Mei
flat.
Kano looked at the Inner Sanctum. Generally, Quan Chi
would only go inside when he wished to meditate and view distant
events. And, thankfully, this time was no exception. The
normally-open dome was closed, and a powerful light pulsed through
the miniscule cracks in its surface. And there, on a pedestal in the
very center of the room, was the amulet his master wanted. “Like
taking candy from a baby.” Then the Sanctum began to
open…
Shang Tsung smiled, as Li Mei desperately struggled to
get to her feet. She managed to, but it was easy to see that she was
wounded. Blood flowed from her broken nose, and her right arm was
hanging loosely. However, her eyes yet shined brightly, and her left
arm flung another ball of electricity.
This, however, was
merely blocked by Shang Tsung, and the sorcerer strode towards her,
as she backed up, trying to delay long enough to catch her breath.
In this, the sorcerer was more than happy to oblige. He raised his
right hand, and smirked. “I think I’ll take a taste of your soul.
Just a taste… for now.”
As he said this, a portion of Li
Mei’s soul was taken from her, and the additional energy
strengthened Shang Tsung. The woman, on the other hand, looked more
weak than ever. Still, she stood up, and launched a kick at Shang
Tsung.
Surprised, the sorcerer could not block in time, and
he was knocked back. However, he smiled, and again assumed his crane
stance. Once again, Li Mei attempted her flying barrage move, but it
was easily blocked, lacking a full half of its power. Desperately,
Li Mei tried to attack again, but Shang Tsung was
faster.
-Continued...-
IP: Logged |
|
San_Draco |
Posted: 03-22-2003 , 01:23
PM |
|
El Bruje Sale
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: The realm between the
worlds...
|
...and
concluded.
Once
again, he performed his three swift kicks to her jaw, and again he
punched her three times in the face. This time, however, he changed
the ending. Instead of kicking her, he pulled out his straight
sword, and slashed with it. Li Mei gasped, then looked at her
stomach. As expected, that had been the deathblow, and she fell to
her knees. “C… curse you, Shang Ts-tsung…”
The mentioned
sorcerer shook the blood of his sword, then sheathed it. With a
broad smile, he walked in front of her. “You will have plenty of
time to do so, Li Mei. Your people will forever belong to me, but
what about you? Do you know what this ‘service’ to me
entails?”
She shook her head, but the look on her face
betrayed her guess. Shang Tsung smirked. “Correct. Your soul is
mine!” Using his favored spell, Shang Tsung lifted her body off the
ground, then slammed it down again. Her sai went flying across the
floor as Li Mei gave one last gasp, then was silent
forever.
Shang Tsung cupped his hands, and a green wave of
energy passed from Li Mei’s former body to his hands. He smiled. “So
warm… a true warrior’s spirit. A pity I cannot claim it as my own.
Pity.”
Slowly he stalked through the long rows of dead
warriors, some sufficiently aware to track his movements. The others
merely stared ahead, though their eyes seemed to brighten as he
passed by. There, at the very front, was the last warrior. The
long-dead commander of the Dragon King’s army. Soon he shall
breath again… She, rather.
Reluctantly, the soul passed
into the commander’s body, a scream appearing to fill the chamber as
the soul of Li Mei was imprisoned behind an expressionless undead
warrior… forever.
Shang Tsung turned again, his face now grim
and worried. If Kano has failed his mission, then Quan Chi will
be able to command the Dragon King’s army… and against such a force
even my army of souls will not be able to stand. Besides, using them
will weaken me, and nothing can defeat the Dragon King’s army,
nothing!
He went back to his reception hall, where two
servants were removing the body of Li Mei and a third cleaning the
mess left by the fight. He picked up a sai, and was prepared to
fling it away, when Shang Tsung stopped him. “Give it to
me.”
Lightly, almost caressingly, Shang Tsung took the sai,
still sensing the lingering aura of Li Mei in them. Of course, soon
all traces of her would disappear forever, but that meant nothing.
After all, all mortals were doomed to that fate.
He handed
the sai to his servants, and bade them to put them in his storage
room, where the weapons of warriors were stored. Trophies, almost.
More for the benefit of his memory than as viable weapons, as most
of them had been shattered in the conflicts long ago.
It was
then that Quan Chi entered the chamber. His high-pitched voice
seemed quite triumphant. “Shang Tsung! Show me the now-revived army
of the Dragon King! Show me… my ultimate power.”
He didn’t
see the red, mechanical eye as it nodded to Shang Tsung. “Of course,
old friend. This way.”
"Your soul is
mine!" -Shang Tsung
It was fun, and I enjoyed myself. But,
it's time for me to go now.
IP: Logged |
|
Switchblade |
Posted: 03-25-2003 , 08:43
PM |
|
Road Warrior
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: In your fridge,
behind the mayo
|
Alright, just because I'm weird here is my omake intro.
It has nothing to do with Vice and Mature's story, but it was fun to
write.
Those who don't get the wonkster reference should
go check out Survivor IX at
RI.
------------------------------------------------
“I’m
sorry, Wakka,” Rikku spoke into the communicator as she checked on
the most recent sales figures from her private enterprise. “But I’m
currently out of stock on wonksters.”
“Oh,” the voice on the
other end said in obvious disappointment. “Well, uh, that’s okay,
ya? I just wanted one for a friend. Tid, er… Aur… mahri.
Tidaurmahri. Ya, that’s it. Tidaurmahri. That’s his
name.”
“Wakka, that’s just pathetic,” Rikku said as she
walked across the room to check on the wonkster nursery. “You should
have tried saying it was for Lulu, or something. You know, a
decent excuse.”
“But Rikku…” the Besaid blitzer
protested.
“Hey, it’s cool,” the blonde Al-Bhed replied. “I
don’t judge, I just deliver.” A green cactaur suddenly trotted into
the room and handed Rikku a memo. “Thanks,” she smiled at the small
creature. “Like I was saying,” she continued, “I’m out right now.
The new breed won’t mature for a couple more weeks and Shelinda
bought the last two.”
“Two? Why does she…”
“Don’t
judge,” Rikku repeated, “Just deliver. Besides it’s better this way,
she has a back-up this way. She’s already worn out three of
‘em.”
“Look,” Wakka said, “I really don’t wanna know, ya.
Jus’ let me know when the new ones are ready.”
“For
Tidaurmahri, right?” Rikku said with a little giggle.
“Ya.
See ya soon, Rikku.”
“Cool, bye,” Rikku replied, deactivating
the communicator. “Tidaurmahri? Who does he think he’s
kidding?”
* * *
Meanwhile in Besaid Wakka put away his
communicator and turned to face his companion. “Sorry, man,” he
said, “She’s out, ya.” Wakka’s friend Tidaurmahri frowned and
started to walk dejectedly back to his house.
* *
*
“Well,” Rikku said to the blue slime that was currently
running the latest figures through his comically antiquated
calculator, “How we doing?”
“The wonksters are selling like
hotcakes, boss,” the slime answered. “But the alien souvenir sales
are down like ninety percent.”
“That’s because we’re out of
them,” Rikku sighed. “All I have left are the ‘Rikku went to an
several other planets as part of a weird cross-dimensional fighting
tournament and all I got was this lousy t-shirt’ shirts. And they’re
not all that popular. We need another tournament like now, so I can
restock.”
As if on cue there was a sudden flash of white
light and a handsome young man with long blonde hair and a smart
goatee appeared in the room. “Switch!” Rikku cried out happily in a
massive assault on the fourth wall. “Is it time for another
tourney?”
“Yep,” the author replied, “But I’m afraid you’re
going to have to sit this one out.”
“Aww,” Rikku pouted, “But
I’m out of souvenirs.”
“Well I could always change my plans,”
Switchblade said, “But I was going to give you this.” The scene
suddenly shifted and Rikku found herself standing in a beautiful hot
springs resort.
“Nice,” Rikku said, “But it’s not going to
pay the rent (which technically I don’t have).”
“There’s
more.” With slight splashes three figures suddenly fell out of the
sky and landed in the springs. One was a woman with long blue hair,
one had tan skin and short white hair, and the last had short black
hair and a pair of sunglasses perched atop her head. “Meet KOS-MOS,
Angel, and May Lee.”
“Hmm…” Rikku said, putting her hand on
her chin as she cutely thought the offer over. “I don’t know…” There
was a brief white flash around all three girls and when it cleared
they were each dressed in a Japanese schoolgirl’s uniform. “Deal!”
Rikku enthusiastically cried out.
Rikku gave an excited
squeal as she ran to the hot spring and jumped in, still fully
dressed. “Thanks, Switchy!” she called out, “See ya next time!” The
author smiled politely and waved goodbye before he vanished in
another burst of light.
IP: Logged |
|
CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-28-2003 , 02:33
AM |
|
Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
|
Hisame Shizumaru - Prologue:2
By now, the
rain had been lightly pouring, and after finding Rimururu outside
the gate of the Ichiriki, the crew had ventured to Sango's house to
wait for Gohan to arrive. The air now heavily smelt of the moist
earth - and in Shizumaru's case, also of tree sap - although, he was
near no tree...
"I wanted you to stay inside," he murmured,
holding up his umbrella - with Rimururu beside him. "It... I do not
want you to get wet out here - "
"Nah... *I* wanted to see
you fight," she laughed. "Come on, you shouldn't be so modest,
Shizu-kun! It's not like I haven't gotten wet before,
y'know."
"Ah... right," he smiled. "Of course you have,
but... I - I just - "
"It's okay," she laughed and grinned,
huddling closer to him under the umbrella. "I don't mind getting
wet, really... I've been through much worse," Rimururu nodded to her
shoulder, and Shizumaru idly looked towards it. "It's feeling much
better than it was when I got hurt, I can say that for
sure."
"That's good," the young man closed his eyes and
sighed softly, peering back up again to see his companion's face -
she was looking at him with concern. What for, though?
"...
you alright?" she bit her lip. "Not... not tired or anything? You
don't have to fight her if you don't want to, you know..."
"I
am not sure if I want to, but... I cannot simply back out of this
arrangement. Gohan-san will be expecting me to fight..." After a
moment of uncomfortable silence, Shizumaru simply decided to stop
talking, and listened to the soothing patter of raindrops against
the canvas of his umbrella. Rimururu must've been listening a bit,
too; her head fell onto his shoulder, but she brushed back a lock of
hair to let herself hear.
"Shizumaru-kun?" Haohmaru's rough
voice startled both of them out of their serenity, and Shizumaru
looked up to the older man, who had a plainly obvious grin on his
face - his own face suddenly flashed with heat, and he could tell
that he was blushing again. "Ah, no need to get embarrassed, now; I
just wanted to know what your business was with me!"
"Oh!"
the young man gasped - it had once again slipped his mind. "Ah...
yes... well, Haohmaru-sensei... I - I am not sure how to begin...
oh! Rimururu, you don't have to leave," he glanced at the Ainu girl,
who had been heading towards Sango, for she was also under an
umbrella, to protect mainly her hair from the rain. "You may stay if
you wish..."
"That's alright - I can tell this is going to be
something big and private," she giggled. "I'm not gonna bother you
any, okay? I'll just talk with Sango-san." Saying that, she ran over
to the geisha carefully, making positive not to get a bit of mud on
SangoÕs kimono.
After Rimururu had become distracted by
Sango, obviously enthralled by her conversational skills, Shizumaru
returned his look to Haohmaru, who spoke again. "This was about
Tachibana Ukyo, you said?"
"Yes," he ran a hand idly through
his hair, and bit his lip. "Y - you see... I had the opportunity to
meet Tachibana-san, and... well... " He tried as hard as he could to
find some other way to say what had been happening, but there was no
substitute for the truth - "... he was not in relatively good health
when we met, Haohmaru-sensei... ah, I cannot figure out how to say
this effectively..."
"I've known he coughed up blood for
years, Shizumaru-kun," Haohmaru smirked. "That's not news to
me."
"I knew too, Haohmaru-sensei, and in fact, that very
point is what I came to you to talk about..." As he meekly tried to
recall his memory of the iaijutsu swordsman, he frantically grabbed
the dangling braids from his tassel to assist him. "He... he was
dying... Haohmaru-sensei, he taught me Tsubame Gaeshi, he bestowed
upon me such great wisdom..."
At the words 'tsubame gaeshi',
Haohmaru's ears pricked up and his eyes opened in surprise.
"Tachibana actually taught you that? He must've really been
desperate for something to do... so sick of women, he turns to the
bishounen instead," he grimaced.
"Haohmaru-sensei, it was not
like that at all!" he protested. "But... he told me something - that
if something should happen to him, that you and Odagiri Kei would be
the recipients of his message from me..."
"Well, what is
it?!" Haohmaru frowned. "You're not going to have time to prepare
for your duel, at this rate! What happened to
Tachibana?!"
Shizumaru's fingers trembled violently, as he
slowly pulled out a familiar blood-soaked sheet of paper from within
his tunic, and handed it to Haohmaru - the shine of tears welling up
in his eyes. "I... I - I can't - I can't say it - "
Raising
an eyebrow, Haohmaru shrugged, and quickly read the
haiku.
Immediately, his face fell into complete shock, and
all he could do was gape at the young man, who's still-trembling
fingers took back the note and placed it in safekeeping. "...
Tachibana Ukyo... masaka - I can't believe it... he's
dead?Ó
"If he was not when I received his message, he is
surely now," Shizumaru struggled to blink back his tears, but some
managed to slip down his cheek slyly. "He had been so weak... ... so
weak..."
His breathing was ragged now, so much that he did
not notice that Haohmaru had been, after reading the note,
completely silent. Haohmaru's mouth was still gaping, he hadn't
blinked, and he seemed as if he was about to vomit. Haohmaru and
Ukyo had not been close, exactly, but they had been rivals for some
time - and now, to imagine one without the other seemed impossible
to either.
"... I..." Haohmaru tried to speak up, but hung
his head with a shudder. Even if he had been able to speak, where
would his words have come from? Gravely, he looked back at
Shizumaru, and suddenly pulled him into an embrace, knocking his
umbrella to the ground. "... you got close to him... didn't
you?"
Still trembling, Shizumaru nodded his head. "I did..."
Biting his lip, he slowly closed his eyes, determined not to show
Haohmaru how close he really had been to the other
samurai.
How long his head laid upon his teacher's chest, he
didn't know; but soon, Shizumaru felt Haohmaru release him and stand
up. His head whipped around so swiftly that Shizumaru got a faceful
of thick black hair - frowning, he brushed it away.
"She's
here, Shizumaru-kun..." Haohmaru looked back at him, and the younger
man nodded, picking up his umbrella again. "You'd... you'd better go
have your duel..."
"Hai, Haohmaru-sensei..." Shizumaru
bowed to him, his thoughts still back on Ukyo. Glumly, he looked up
at Gohan's approaching form, and sighed - the last thing his heart
was for was fighting, but he couldn't very well turn down what she
had been looking forward to for an hour - not exempting that she was
a demon, which could only make things deadly if she was pushed too
far, or if he himself lost control...
"So, how do I look,
Sango-san? I don't think my hair's been this free in years," she
laughed. Her hair was not in the lobes of an apprentice geisha, nor
did it seem to have a bit of wax in it - whoever had helped her out
with her hair had done a very good job of it. It was now tied in a
rather casual ponytail at the top of her head, with her odd black
forelocks stubbornly hanging out. Of course, instead of the usual
garb of a maiko, she wore a measly yukata and sandals... "I donÕt
think my *body*'s been this free in years, actually!"
"And if
I have any say as to how your career will be, Gohan, it'll never be
free again," Sango pursed her tongue. "You see, Rimururu-chan, what
she puts me through? I donÕt think I've ever had a more disobedient
younger sister than her in all my career!" As the geisha started to
ramble on, Rimururu couldn't help but smile, and she looked at
Shizumaru with a 'can-you-believe-what-she's-saying?' sort of look.
Shizumaru met her eyes, and returned the smile only to hide his
depression.
Gohan only rolled her eyes, and walked over to
Shizumaru and Haohmaru happily. "You see, I told you I had swords,"
she giggled - with a considerably low voice; the sugary voice she'd
had in her maiko garb was apparently an act. "My tachi - " she
flicked a hand towards her left shoulder - " - and katana," the
other hand grasped the hilt of her blade on her right. "I thought,
maybe... you should get acquainted with them before you get *too*
close." She laughed again.
Shizumaru closed his eyes, and
laughed a bit. "Gohan-san... there is not much chance for your
blades to become 'acquainted' with my flesh when you practice
iaijutsu, you realize."
Gohan slapped her forehead, a flash
of red splaying across her cheeks. "It doesn't matter, just as long
as you know what you're up against! Anyway..." she looked up at the
sky, somehow just noticing it was raining. "... I won't let such
things deter me - words or weather that get thrown at me, you're
still not going to come out of this without a scar somewhere," she
winked, a bit seductively.
Perhaps, Gohan-san, it will be
you that receives the most painful scar tonight... Shizumaru
thought to himself, before bringing himself back to the moment.
"Where shall we..."
"Here in the street should be just fine,"
she smiled brightly, walking out to the middle of the open road.
"Come on, come on! You're so slow, I swear - oh..."
Shizumaru
was faintly amused, seeing as how he'd managed to reach the center
of the road before she had. As she practiced drawing out her swords,
he couldn't help but envy her, somehow - how they were the same in
essence, yet, she had been far more priviliged than he in life.
However, the fact remained that she was still a demon, and this
night could completely shatter the life sheÕd been so lucky to
have...
IP: Logged |
|
CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-28-2003 , 02:53
AM |
|
Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
|
She
was now in her fighting stance - her right hand reaching up, ready
to grasp her tachi with her left at the hilt of her katana. For a
moment more, he stood silent. Sighing, he bowed to her deeply, and,
thinking about all that she had at stake, muttered softly: "...
gomen nasai."
Almost as soon as he took up his own
stance, she leapt at him, slashing out with her katana. Taken by
surprise, but not deterred, Shizumaru countered her hit by holding
up his umbrella to shield himself, and then swung forward to drive
her away. Gohan simply leapt at him again the same way after she'd
once resheathed her blade; this time, he leapt into the air, and
snapped open his umbrella, drifting softly above her.
"N -
nani yo?!" she shrieked. "You can't DO that!!" Growling, she
leapt up in the air, slashing out with the katana, but she couldn't
reach him. Calmly, Shizumaru closed his umbrella, and used it in his
fall to spring off of Gohan's head. When he landed, he immediately
snapped open his umbrella again and threw it at the girl, striking
her in the side. She gasped in pain as the umbrella hit her, and
winced as she stood up on her feet again. With a yell, she leapt at
him with her hand on her katana hilt again. When Shizumaru tried to
back away, she swiftly drew out her blade, slamming it to the ground
and back up again, knocking him off his feet - which was when she
chose the time to slide in and hit - first across his chest, then an
upward cut, and from left shoulder to right hip.
"Shizu-kun
- " Rimururu gasped, and bit her lip, seeing Shizumaru forcing
himself to shrug off his cuts. They didn't seem to be deep, though,
which relieved her only slightly - and judging from the way that
he'd just counterattacked with the same vigor as before, she didn't
think that he thought it hurt much either.
Gohan pursed her
lips in anger as her eyes followed Shizumaru - he was up in the sky
again - and she grumbled, blocking above her head. Once she'd left
herself open, though, Shizumaru suddenly spun his umbrella, falling
towards Gohan, and slicing through the white skin on her chest,
sending her sprawling.
"Bakayarou," she spat angrily,
and sprung lithely up to her feet again. Again, she jumped towards
him, but this time she swung at him with the tachi in an attempt to
hit harder; Shizumaru simply blocked it with his umbrella again and
threw her back. When she stumbled a bit, he slid in and opened his
umbrella to its full span, then spun it around rapidly, catching her
in its fray once again.
Gohan frowned as she sprung back
onto her feet, and hit him in the side with the saya of her katana
before he could block her. When the saya slammed into him, he
staggered on his feet, and Gohan smiled, snapping out her tachi and
hitting it on the ground in front of him to catch him off balance
further. She then leapt at him, slashing with fury, until her final
blow, where she kicked off his chest, flipping away, and sending him
crashing to the ground.
Sango shook her head, obviously
disgusted at Gohan's attacks; but Gohan hardly seemed to notice.
Grinning, she dashed towards him, prepared to initiate the flurry of
hits again - but Shizumaru flung out his umbrella again, slashing
her across her chest. He picked up his umbrella again as soon as he
could, wary of Gohan's increasing anger at her unfortunate luck.
She screamed again as she leapt towards him, attacking with
her katana again; but Shizumaru had seen that technique enough by
now to counter it effectively - so, he swung up his umbrella,
knocking away her blade; then he swung again with his nodachi,
careening her into the air as she shrieked in fear. By the time her
body landed on the ground, he was already back in his stance,
umbrella at his side. Gohan got back on her feet more slowly this
time, and she roughly spat on the ground again in
anger.
Again, she tried to leap towards him, but, again,
Shizumaru was able to knock back her sword, and he threw out his
umbrella again, which slashed into her stomach this time since she
was so close. Gohan grimaced, but she stubbornly refused to cry,
despite the tears that were obviously welling up in her eyes.
Instead, she haughtily took up her stance, and nodded her head to
beckon him to her. Shizumaru leapt up in the air and began to fly on
his umbrella as a response, making Gohan groan in frustration once
again. She couldn't seem to figure out just what he would do this
time; stomp on her head or shred her skin. Eventually, she decided
that he would spring off her head again - but a few seconds too
soon; since he smashed into her wrist instead.
Gohan shook
her wrist a few times to wring out the dull pain now throbbing in
her arm, and she once again took up her stance, though by now she
seemed to have figured out that leaping towards him wasn't a
suitable maneuver anymore. Right then, Gohan decided, she thought
she would take a more defensive approach - which would've been the
smarter thing to do in the first place for her. Shizumaru could
guess that too, and he once again leapt in the air to float on his
umbrella, making Gohan screech in exasperation. It was a bit amusing
to him to watch her figure out what she should guard against, and
finally, she gave up, and simply moved away from him. He smiled then
a bit - he'd expected that as well. Quickly, he dropped from his
perch in the sky, letting go of his umbrella - and swiftly stabbing
her in the stomach, though not deep enough to seriously injure her.
As his umbrella had landed away from him, he flipped backwards off
her, just as she had done to him earlier, and slashed at her with
the nodachi. Both sent her to her knees, and she angrily spit off to
the side once again - though this time, Shizumaru saw and gasped -
it was blood.
Gohan screamed in rage, then swiped at his
chest quickly with her katana - and once she saw a thin line of
blood across his chest, she smirked, and sheathed her sword, using
the saya to hit him into the air. She herself then jumped up and
caught him in another flurry of attacks, carrying them both higher
and higher, until she broke off, and kicked away from him, flipping
away and landing on her feet lightly. Shizumaru landed a good ways
away from her, and the impact knocked the air out of his lungs.
Groping at his chest, he blinked away the rain, and squinted to see
how badly he was bleeding - not so much compared to Gohan, who,
frankly, didnÕt seem to be caring a bit whether she'd been hurt or
not - just as long as she could defeat him. In fact, he could see
that she was bleeding rather heavily - or was it the rain, smearing
the blood around? Somehow, he doubted the latter, as his own bare
chest was not bleeding nearly as heavily as her cloth-wrapped
one.
If this didn't end soon, she might lose *too* much
blood... and, even now, she seemed to be staring around
dazedly.
"Hisame-kun..." her speech was slurred. "Come on...
you're so *slow*..."
He frowned. "Gohan-san, do you realize
how heavily you are bleeding? Perhaps - "
"No, Hisame-kun, I
shall finish this NOW!" she screamed, startling the young man before
he could get back to his feet. Now, as she leapt, she was slashing
wildly, without purpose or technique. Although she did remember to
sheathe her sword once in a while, she was only doing so half-way.
Shizumaru quickly scooted away, picking up his umbrella, and leapt
up into the air, floating once more again. Gohan screamed in rage
again as he (seemingly) peacefully floated above her. His mind was
not at all tranquil, however; he could see how furious she had
become in her desire to win - and with her blood loss, that could
only further the onset of the situation. He had to end it now,
before she pushed herself over the edge - and he knew precisely how
to do it.
Gathering his concentration, ignoring the furious
raving screams of the girl below him, he calmed himself down as much
as possible. Then, when he felt ready to do it - the timing had to
be exact - he took a deep, shuddering breath, and closed his
umbrella, quickly slinging it over his back, and taking a hold of
the hilt of his nodachi, and as hard as he snapped out the blade, he
himself screamed out into the night -
" - Tsubame
Gaeshi!!"
- and set his sword aflame.
IP: Logged |
|
CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-28-2003 , 03:19
AM |
|
Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
|
Within
seconds, the fires upon the blade lit up the girl below him, and she
screamed in horror, her body set in flames. Shizumaru landed safely,
and he quickly resheathed his nodachi, but his gaze was on Gohan,
rolling around on the ground to put out the fires on her body as
quickly as she could. Wiping his eyes from the rain, he squinted at
Gohan through the night, and was shocked to see her shakily standing
on her feet.
Her head snapped to stare at him - and her eyes
had become completely wide open and bloodshot. She was breathing
slowly, heavily... her fingers twitched maddeningly, her teeth were
bared at him, and her hair - once in the beautiful lobes, then in
the elegant ponytail - had fallen loose and was now in complete
disarray - and the odd forelocks of hers had become rough and spiky
-
As soon as their eyes met, Shizumaru didn't have to even
think it; his heart immediately skipped a beat, and his chest
suddenly seemed to freeze...
... Gohan's demon had indeed
awaken, and by his own hand.
Quickly, Shizumaru sprang to his
feet, his mind in complete panic. Gohan - well, it was her, but...
not her as well - looked around her surroundings, jerking her head
in every direction to see, and even sticking out her tongue to taste
some of the rain. Licking her lips with a deadly smile, she grinned,
and in a split second, she had dashed to Shizumaru's side, grasping
him by his tunic collar. She growled, the grin still on her face,
and flung him off the road into the garden nearby, where Shizumaru
slammed into a tree and slumped down to his knees.
"G -
Gohan-s - san - " he gasped breathlessly. "This - why have you -
"
He suddenly found himself unable to speak, for his body
seized up with the touch of Gohan's fingers, snaking over his arm.
She was staring at him with an odd curiousity, and her head cocked
from side to side curiously. Gohan squinted, and her nose twitched a
bit before she leant her head in, taking in the young man's scent.
Panicking, but finding himself unable to move, all Shizumaru could
do was stare at the girl, perched on his lap, in horror. Her wonder
never ceased, and her touch was curious, examing his clothes, her
yukata, her own flesh - but particularly curious in his. Their eyes
met for a moment, but it was enough reason for Shizumaru to firmly
shut his eyes and turn his head away.
After a moment, he felt
no more movement above him, until her warm breath fell on his cheek,
and he gasped at the sensation. A split second later, Gohan had
roughly turned his head back to face her own, and though he tried
desperately not to open his eyes, she pried one pair of eyelids open
anyway, and peered into them, making his eyes water from her breath.
A tear managed to slip free, and, ever-inquisitve, she promptly
licked it away, causing Shizumaru to moan pitifully under her
grasp.
His moan startled the newly-awakened demon, and her
head snapped back, startled. Frowning, she rested her ear to his
bare chest to listen to his heartbeat, and then looked back and
smiled. Shizumaru was in no position to feel comforted, however -
his chest had seized up against her touch, and his heart paused for
a moment before pounding inside his chest furiously. Already, he was
beginning to feel faint just being around her, and if she managed to
bring out the demon inside him -
"... hanyou...?" she
spoke the one word; her voice considerably raspier and lower than
her normal voice. "... hanyou," she grinned with her wicked teeth
again, this time, with much more confidence. Placing a hand on his
chest, she giggled, and traced her finger around the bare skin.
"Hanyou!"
Still, Shizumaru was too delirious from her
prescence to respond, and he felt his forehead burning with panic as
Gohan continued to explore his body. Her touch felt sickening, and
he couldn't help but feel a burn wherever she felt his skin - though
she likely didn't realize how much she was hurting him, both inside
and out. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying the rise she was getting
out of him, seeing him tremble -
"Hanyou!" she laughed,
cupping her hands to hold his face - by now, Shizumaru had given up
trying to fight what his body was doing; namely, seizing up
completely, and instead, focused on some way to try and get himself
away from Gohan. He hardly had time to think, when she smiled and
stared to take little, small licks on his face, just like what she
had done with his tear. Horrified, tear after tear fell upon his
pale face, and Gohan thought it was a sweet game, catching each
salty droplet after another on the tip of her tongue. After a while,
she got bored with the game, and decided to busy her hands again -
"Hanyou!" she giggled, and shoved him to the ground, clambering on
top of him, and tracing a finger down his chest. Laughing, she
slipped her hands into the sleeves of his tunic and slid them down,
exposing his whole chest to the chilly, rainy night, and further
sending his mind into a nightmare.
She leant in close, her
mouth right next to his ear - whispered in her low growl: "...
hanyou..." and looked in his eyes for one moment more, before
letting out another growl, and leaning in to bite into the ivory
skin on his neck -
"Tatsukete!!" Shizumaru suddenly
screamed out. "Haohmaru-sensei - tatsukete!!" After he'd
screamed out his desperate cry, he gathered his resolve and, with
tears still pouring down his face, kicked away the demon on top of
him, and slashing at her with his nodachi to keep her at bay.
"Wretched demon, touch me not once more!" he hissed at her, quickly
wiping away his tears on his wrist guard.
"Hanyou...?" she
stared at him, broken-hearted and obviously lost, confused. Then,
her face contorted into an ugly expression of rage - a complete
opposite of the stunningly perfect maiko face she had not even ten
minutes ago. Shrieking, she pointed a shaking finger at him, and
screamed right back - "Hanyou!!" and threw herself at him,
knocking him backwards. She leapt on top of him, brandishing her
teeth and ready to strike with her nails, and in that instant - in
which a flash of lightning and thunder rocked the skies, along came
the wind to go with it - "Senpu Retsu Zan!!"
Gohan shrieked
as she was flung up into the air, but that was not the last of the
first foray of attacks to come at her - "Daishizen no oshioki da
yo! Upun Opu!!" A rain of icicles flew out to attack the girl,
still at the height of her blast up into the air. Quickly, Shizumaru
stood up on his feet, albeit, visibly shaken, and stumbled away from
the garden.
"Sango-san!" Haohmaru snapped his fingers.
"Shizumaru-kun is hardly in a position to help us - get him into
your house as soon as you possibly can, and don't let him get near
Gohan for a second more! Rimururu-chan and I will keep her at bay;
you and Shizumaru-kun get away!"
Sango, who hadn't realized
the situation, was still confused until she saw the pain in
Shizumaru's eyes, and a hand fluttered up to her mouth in shock.
"Oh, I *knew* something like this would happen, I just knew it! Come
on - " Clumsily, Sango tried to run through the mud to her house,
made especially difficult with her kimono and zori - even though
Shizumaru was dazed and shivering, he still, somehow, managed to
help out Sango to her door, where she let him in quickly, and,
kicking off her sandals alongside Shizumaru, rushed him to the guest
room for her danna.
"Stay in here, Hisame-kun," she gasped,
out of breath. "I'll go back - heaven knows where Gohan-chan is
going to go tonight... I'm going to try and convince the okiya she
stays at to let her stay there... *you* stay here," she repeated
sternly, and dashed out her house again, leaving Shizumaru
completely alone in a dark, musty room - simply decorated, with a
simple futon and shikibuton mattress in the middle of the
floor.
His skin still tickled wherever Gohan had touched it,
and he lifted up his hands in the moonlight to try and see if she
had left any permanent marks - none that he could see. But the
horrible feeling still lingered all over him, and he stared at his
palms helplessly. With his eyes welling up with moisture again, he
slowly untied the strings of his wrist guards, and let them fall to
the floor. Then, he unslung the saya of his nodachi, leaning it
against the wall - after that, his shin guards and socks - and,
checking for no noise if someone else had trespassed into Sango's
house - he untied the sash around his waist, and let the rest of his
clothes fall to the ground. Shivering, he quickly crawled under both
the shikifu sheet and kakebuton quilt, and dropped his
head on the pillow with a heavy sigh. Without his clothes off, the
horrifying sensation of Gohan's fingers surged through him, making
his skin prickle all over his body - finally, he could not stand the
sensation any longer. With a sob, he threw his face into the
makura pillow and screamed in agony; the events of the night
far too tramautic to keep in any longer - and, finally, he managed
to cry himself to sleep.
IP: Logged |
|
CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-28-2003 , 03:39
AM |
|
Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
|
Darkness... I only see darkness. So many times the
setting in my mind... for there are no doors to escape from, no
light to speak of, and the noise does not reverberate off the walls.
I used to be alone in here with my... my father... how
surreal it must have been for him, to torture my young body without
a shred of guilt and remember the tale, knowing that I would forget
and be prey to his methods. His equally black kimono blended in
perfectly with the walls, and his light, snowy blue hair is always
flowing, as if pushed by the whispers of children in the wind -
- but now... it is different. Zankuro died by my hand and a
second by Tachibana-san - so another force has come to stir my mind
in submission. He also has the soft, snowy white hair, but his eyes
are a brilliant red like mine - yet, I am inclined to think that my
own skin is lighter... a fair ivory I have.
His fingers
suddenly constrict my throat - a hand covered in his sickly yellow
skin, to be precise. His excrutiating laugh causes me to cry in fear
time after time again - I can never know what he is laughing about -
however, I do suspect that it is me in question... the tiger-stripe
markings he has always seem to glow when he's acted inappropriately.
The shrill laugh he has cuts through anything I could've
been thinking about...
His fingers trace across my heart,
then he smirks, and shakes with mirth before breaking out into a
full-laugh... and then, suddenly, he plunges his hand into my chest
again, holding my heart... and he suddenly rips it out; still
beating. My mind is faint and I can barely see; all I can hear is my
heartbeat in front of me, the shrill laughter of the demon, and with
each passing heartbeat, his name becomes louder in intensity and I
can hardly understand what is going on and with each beat of my
heart it rings in my ears and refuses to stop - I - I can't - iya -
dame yo - hanasete yo! yamete!!! - !!!!
The next thing he
knew, he was being shaken awake, and he looked up immediately to see
who had been doing it - "Rimururu!" he gasped. "Rimururu... it - it
is not safe for you to be near me tonight...!"
"Don't give me
that," she snapped at him. "You were injured! You were assaulted by
a demon! You had another nightmare - I could hear your screams
through the rain! Shizu-kun, if anything, it's not safe for *you* to
be alone tonight!" The girl's voice was trembling with concern, and
twinged with tears. "Here - " she hesitated for a moment, but
quickly slipped out of her own wrist guards, and untied her hair
ribbon - and clambered under the blankets right next to him.
"There... now, come on, Shizu-kun, I won't hurt you! That's the last
thing you need right now..."
Shizumaru could feel his face
flare up in a blush, and he only hoped Rimururu wouldn't see it. She
had good intentions, of course, but... "... Rimururu, you are
awfully - ah... well - "
"Shh," She placed a finger to his
lips. "Haohmaru-san said it would be best for me to stay with you
tonight, and, well, I was thinking that would be a pretty good idea
myself... but he warned me to be extremely
careful..."
"Rimururu..." he whispered, suddenly deathly
frightened. "I do not want you to get hurt, but - " he clasped her
hand in his own, "... I... I do not want to be alone..."
"Why
would I get hurt?" she blinked. "Haohmaru-san said I'd be in danger,
and now you're saying it... I don't understand anything that's
happened - with the girl, and you, and now this... Shizu-kun -
"
She stopped and sighed, looking sadly into his eyes.
Shizumaru turned his away for a moment, but then laid them back on
her face. "I... I did not want to tell you - "
"Please,
Shizumaru... I have to know," she pleaded with him, her eyes fraught
with intense concern. "Onegai nasai..."
The young man
was silent for another uncomfortable moment. "... when I was an
infant... the demon Minazuki Zankuro destroyed the village I lived
in, mercilessly... and he murdered the villagers as well - " he
sobbed once as he continued. " - my mother - "
Rimururu's
eyes flew open in shock, but Shizumaru hardly noticed - he'd begun
to rattle on. "Zankuro spared me... Rimururu... the day that he
murdered my mother, he birthed a demon inside of me - and when I
found him, after training with Haohmaru-sensei for so long, I was
able to slay him for retribution - oh, but Rimururu, when I felled
him, he said he recognized my soul, and suddenly knew my identity -
" He choked on his emotions again, but managed to keep them stable
for one last sentence. "Rimururu... I am his son..."
After
those words, he completely broke down. "He killed my mother and
birthed the demon in my soul - and when I killed him... as he was my
father, and I a demon, I - "
" - Shizumaru..." Rimururu
interruped him, her voice dry from her throat. "Masaka... I -
I never imagined... I didn't think - "
"Leave if you want
to," his voice was suddenly deadened and monotone, as if he'd spoken
the speech a dozen times before. "You would not be the first to
abandon me..."
"... but I'll be the first to stay," she bit
her lip firmly. "What kind of demon would've saved an injured girl's
life like you did? How many demons are as gentle and polite as you?
I just... you might be hanyou, Shizu-kun, but you're the
kindest, most human person I've ever met... how could I leave you in
despair after what happened tonight?"
Shizumaru stared at
her, not quite sure what to say. True, he was relieved that she was
going to stay with him, but - the fact was, not a soul his age
before had shown him an inkling of kindness, and he couldn't figure
out what to say or what he was supposed to feel - everything was
coming up blank for him. Though, truth be told, she *was* the only
girl who'd taken to him...
"... Rimururu..." he looked back
into her liquid brown eyes, which looked at him as no one had
before. "I - " Finally, he stopped trying to come up with a word,
and contented himself with staring into her eyes, letting the
horribly foul touch of Gohan upon his skin disappear. Still holding
her hand in his, he squeezed a bit tighter, and when he saw the girl
slowly close her eyes, his eyelids fell as well...
Their
lips brushed over each other's, and they immediately looked back up
again, feeling the familiar warmth of embarrassment flood their
faces. Shizumaru let go of Rimururu's hand, and instead, gently
rested it on her blushing cheek, and she brought her lips to his to
meet once more. For a moment, it was simply the touch of each other
to satisfy, but it inevitably grew deeper as time passed - for one
was willing to give love, and the other in sore desperation of it.
Hardly graceful; neither of them exactly had experience with
kissing, but having no basis of comparision, they continued to do
just that - a brush of tongue against the other, and further and
further...
Shizumaru broke away first, still lingering, but
his heart reminded him of how intense the moment had been. Rimururu
smiled at him, and rested her neck on his shoulder, where her breath
startled the young man, making him gasp, but only making her smile
broader.
"Suki da yo," she murmured happily. "Suki
da yo..."
Shizumaru could think of naught to say, being
too marred with emotion. His eyelids shut tightly, quivering with
the threat of more tears, and he held her tightly - too scared to,
and yet, too scared to not, and further frightened to let go. She
sighed contentedly and drifted off into sleep, while Shizumaru -
although relaxing his embrace - was back into perpetual fear. Afraid
of the demon Gohan, afraid of Haohmaru's reaction to the note, even
afraid of Rimururu at the time - though, it eventually led him back
to one simple realization: he was afraid of himself. Not necessarily
the demon, though that was quite a part of it - he simply could not
comprehend himself at the moment, and it scared him
immensely.
His heart still beat furiously - was it passion or
the demon that the moment faced him with?
Sighing, he shifted
his position under the covers to let Rimururu have the space to
herself, and quickly went over to his own abandoned clothing,
putting it back on as quickly as he could; right down to the wrist
and shin guards. Shizumaru sighed with a tremble, and sunk into a
corner of the room, holding onto the saya of his nodachi as tightly
as he'd clung to Rimururu. He tentatively reached up with a finger
to brush one of the thin braids of hair -
Last
edited by CarlyCheeese on 03-28-2003 at 03:48 AM
IP: Logged |
|
CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-28-2003 , 03:45
AM |
|
Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
|
"Ahh, cunning methods, cunning methods, my Covert
Blanket Ninja! You simply lure the girls to you for the 'kill', as
we call it sometimes, and make your move! Genius - pure and utter
genius!" He could hear the laughter of Zack Ebony in his mind as
soon as he held onto the braid, and it brought a subtle smile to his
lips.
"Shizumaru-kun... I only began to see the depth of
your pain during our time together - how difficult it truly is for
you to let yourself be trusted by someone else! However much you
fear the girl before you, she is willing to put herself in danger
for you... and yet, you wish to not acknowledge it...? You are very
inexperienced with this sort of matter; I cannot help but be
concerned...
Yet, do not fear this turn of events. You do
have my blessing, after all..."
Tachibana Ukyo. Words
that comforted him and gave him a faint glimmer of hope. Yet when he
tried to find more of that infinite wisdom, holding the other thin
braid of hair in his hand - nearly trying to squeeze out all of the
wisdom of the older man - nothing lit up in mind, and he was lost
again.
Another flash of lightning and a blast of thunder
shook the geisha's house, and Rimururu stirred in her sleep.
Shizumaru gazed at her for a while, and sighed, envying her
seemingly good dreams - the nightmare that Rimururu had awaken him
from still haunted his mind, and he doubted he would get any more
sleep tonight, despite how hard he should try. The cold, moist air
prickled his skin and the earthy smell of the wet ground further
brought back the touch of GohanÕs fingers on his flesh -
-
do not think of that...
He shivered. Nothing about this
night could bode well, it seemed to him. Shizumaru slowly brought
himself to his feet, slinging his nodachi back over his shoulder,
and picking up his umbrella as he went out - the room seemed tense
and ominous, and he'd been wanting a breath of fresh air anyway. He
paid little attention to his surroundings - nothing seemed to affect
his train of thought, being only focused on keeping his thoughts off
of Gohan and Rimururu.
Almost lazily, he slid open the front
door of the house and stepped into his zori once more, while opening
his umbrella to shield himself from the rain -
- but he had
already disappeared, with a gasp of
shock.
--
blinded by the whiteness staring at
the sun IÕm wishing that I had wings so that I could become
one
would you help me if I wanted to die I could ride off
with horses tonight...
tell me why - why, oh why - I said why
- why, oh why...
now that IÕve arrived here I know IÕm not
alone all my friends among me tell me welcome home but could
you tell me where I might find the one IÕm looking for Ôcause her
wings have arrived...
tell me why - why, oh why - I said why
- why, oh why...
... you said
goodbye...
--
(Phew, that took forever. XD I SWEAR
my tourney posts won't be as long as this monster, I
swear-swear-swear-swear-sweaaaar. XDDDD;;;;; )
a lonely
soul ____________________ moonlit skies speaker of silence
________________ candlelit town footsteps in the night
_____________ eyes cast in gloom utter reliance
____________________ a saddened frown
sweet serenity
__________________ shielded by innocence waits to be broken
_______________ hidden by beauty its mouth aghast
________________ the demon sleeps within a demon hath spoken
____________ destroying naievte
~ hisame shizumaru, survivor
x - oboeru mo ~
IP: Logged |
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San_Draco |
Posted: 03-28-2003 , 08:25
PM |
|
El Bruje Sale
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: The realm between the
worlds...
|
In which Shang
Tsung combats Quan Chi
Shang
Tsung turned around, and walked down the many halls of his palace.
Unlike Quan Chi’s palace, the passageways were hung with rich
tapestries, statues were proudly set in their pedestals, and the
floor was thickly carpeted.
The Oriental sorcerer held out
his hand, and summoned a soul to it. Hidden behind the green glow,
Shang Tsung smiled. He glanced behind him, and shivered slightly.
There, strapped to Quan Chi’s back, were two curved broadswords,
razor sharp and deadly. He had already proven their effectiveness in
the fight against Jax. The black man’s bionic arms had been no match
for the dual swords.
Suddenly, Shang Tsung stopped, and
gestured to the thick door in front of him. “Beyond this door is the
army you seek. Go, and see.”
Quan Chi nodded, then opened the
door. As had been promised, the vast legions of the dead Dragon King
stood at attention, their skeletal figures grasping halberds and
swords, their eyes glowing with an unholy light.
The
cadaverous sorcerer strode through the ranks, inspecting each
soldier in turn. “Well done, Shang Tsung.” He stopped at the head of
the army, then spun around. “Now that each soldier has a soul, there
is no longer any reason for this portal to the heavens open,
right?”
With a wave of his hand, the limitless supply of
souls that had sustained Shang Tsung was closed. Almost immediately,
the red-clad sorcerer felt the familiar pangs of his hunger for
souls. He could almost imagine his body aging, each individual hair
slowly turning gray and white. The feelings of panic slowly started
returning, but he regained his composure.
“You are right, of
course, Sorcerer Quan Chi. Now that my purpose is done, there is no
reason to maintain my existence. Now, please, leave my castle with
the army, and let me eke out an existence as best I can.” Of course,
Shang Tsung hid a smirk behind his goatee. He was orchestrating
this, and was merely enjoying his sport for as long as
possible.
Quan Chi cracked his knuckles, then smiled, his
high-pitched laugh echoing through the vast chamber. “I wonder,
Shang Tsung, how effective this army would be against magic. I know
that they were supposed to be invincible in battle, but against
magic? Hm…”
Once again, Shang Tsung smiled. “I wonder as
well. Indeed, it would be quite a test of their skills, fighting
against a powerful sorcerer. Now, who would we use as a subject.
More than likely, the said sorcerer would die, as the army would be
deadly, and would certainly not restrain itself.”
As Shang
Tsung looked innocently at Quan Chi, the other sorcerer shined a
predatory grin. Then, he whispered, “Let’s find out, Shang
Tsung.”
The human arched his eyebrow. “Oh? And who do you
plan on testing the army on?”
Quan Chi shouted in response,
“Army of the forgotten Dragon King, arise and destroy Shang
Tsung!”
A long pause ensued, and the army didn’t move. Shang
Tsung began walking to his balcony.
“Slay that
sorcerer!”
Once again, there was a long pause, and once
again, the army didn’t move. The sorcerer glanced over the vast
hall, and his gaze finally rested on his pale
contemporary.
Then, slowly, realization dawned on Quan Chi.
He vehemently whispered to Shang Tsung, “Where is my
amulet?”
It was at this moment that Kano walked out on the
balcony, the amulet in his hands. With a slight bow, he handed it to
Shang Tsung, and the red-clad sorcerer examined it closely. “Would
this be what you are looking for, Quan Chi? It certainly appears to
be your amulet, and I can smell the aroma of stolen souls about it.”
To emphasize his point, Shang Tsung delicately sniffed the golden
artifact.
Shang Tsung’s opponent gnashed his teeth and
gathered a soul in his hand. “Give it back to me,
sorcerer!”
The Oriental mage lightly tossed the amulet from
one hand to the other, then smiled. “Why do you want it? It opens
portals, and only sorcerers can utilize its abilities.”
“I
am a sorcerer, you fool!”
Shang Tsung’s smile widened.
“Out of your own mouth you have condemned yourself. Army of the
Dragon King, destroy the sorcerer!” Quan Chi stared at the army
around him, his eyes widened and his breath halted. There was a long
pause.
Then the army began to move.
Out of
desperation, Quan Chi pulled out both of his broadswords, and
assumed a defensive stance, trying to protect himself in all
directions. However, only one soldier advanced to meet him, his
halberd stretched out before him. As he raised it above his head,
Quan Chi spun around, and one of the swords cut into his opponent’s
chest. However, that didn’t slow the undead warrior down, and it
lashed out.
The blow from its halberd glanced off the twin
blades, and Quan Chi struck again. That blow, however, only
succeeded in cutting the halberd in thirds. The automaton looked at
the ruined weapon, then threw the two parts in its hands at Quan
Chi. As he ducked, the armored zombie dashed in, and lifted the
sorcerer up with a devastating kick. A roundhouse then sent Quan Chi
into a rank of the soldiers, who promptly threw him back to his
challenger.
This time, however, Quan Chi tried a different
tactic. He gathered a soul in his hands, and launched it at his
undead foe. Surprisingly, the tactic worked somewhat well, knocking
the soldier back, distracting it as the soul already established
fought against the intruder.
However, another one instantly
took its place, and thousands more waited for the result. Quan Chi
knew that he lacked the sheer number of souls that Shang Tsung
possessed, and without his amulet, he had neither course of retreat
nor ability to gain more souls. He steeled himself for the next
fighter.
Suddenly, a voice rang out.
“Stop!”
Instantly, the undead army halted, though their eyes
yet shone intently. Shang Tsung walked down the stairs, and strode
toward Quan Chi. “I will fight you myself. For, unlike you, I am no
coward. Besides, if you kill me, then you can command this army
yourself. That desperate fight for survival should make this fight
interesting… and the furtive clutching after hope will make your
soul that much more delectable.”
Quan Chi smiled at this. “I
never took you for a fool, Shang Tsung, but perhaps I should have.
You have me in your power, and now you throw it all away, when you
had victory in your grasp? Well, I suppose I should thank you for
that. Now, I go from death to absolute victory, all because of
you.”
The sorcerer smiled. Hope on, Quan Chi. I shall
enjoy every second of this. The cadaverous sorcerer sheathed
both of his broadswords, and assumed his favored Tang Soo Do stance,
his right arm resting on his shoulder while the left was
outstretched. To counter, Shang Tsung shifted to his Crane style,
and motioned for the army to surround them both, to prevent either
from running away.
It was Quan Chi that attacked first,
attacking with his famed Rising Star Kick, sliding along the floor
and trying to knock Shang Tsung up. However, the sorcerer took a
step back, then answered with his three kick, three punch,
roundhouse kick combo that made his Crane stance feared.
Quan Chi dragged himself back up, then tried to lash out
with a straight kick. However, his opponent merely stepped to the
side, and used the leg as a springboard, jumping up in the air and
stomping down on the pale sorcerer.
At point-blank range,
Quan Chi fired another soul at Shang Tsung, which he barely managed
to block. Suddenly, the former owner of the amulet lashed out with
two knees, then pulled out both broadswords. While Shang Tsung was
still doubled over, Quan Chi slashed with them both, scoring two
gashes in his foe.
Smelling blood, the sorcerer slashed
upwards, catching Shang Tsung with both blades again. Without
warning, he switched to his Escrima style, and jabbed Shang Tsung in
the face. Shang Tsung reeled back, but caught the next blow. He
flung Quan Chi into the ranks of the undead. After a few seconds,
Quan Chi was flung back, noticeably more bruised and battered than
before.
After a brief pause, Shang Tsung got back to his
feet. “Very well, Quan Chi. You’ve gotten better since I last saw
you. Now, can you seize this advantage?” With one smooth motion,
Shang Tsung unsheathed his straight sword.
Quan Chi again
chose his two broadswords, and blocked a thrust from Shang Tsung.
Easily, he threw the blade back, and spun with it. His other sword
went low, forcing Shang Tsung to jump over it. The sorcerer barely
managed to block the two blades heading for his throat, and he in
his turn forced the broadswords aside. With an easy grace, he spun
his straight sword in a circle, catching Quan Chi off
guard.
In mid-arc, Shang Tsung switched directions, cutting
Quan Chi across the arm. At the bottom of that swipe, he spun
around, and horizontally cut the pale one across the chest. However,
while he tried to recover his stance, Quan Chi attacked from the
other side, knocking the sorcerer to the ground.
As he got
back to his feet, Shang Tsung slashed twice, both hitting Quan Chi
across the chest. As the pale one staggered back, he gathered
another soul in his palm. Shang Tsung charged forward, only to have
the soul blast him straight in the chest. He staggered back, then
shook his head. “Not bad, Quan Chi. But, how long can you last with
that blood loss?”
IP: Logged |
|
San_Draco |
Posted: 03-28-2003 , 08:30
PM |
|
El Bruje Sale
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: The realm between the
worlds...
|
In which the
battle with Quan Chi is concluded
In
response, the pale one sheathed his two swords, then performed a
hook punch and a trip in rapid succession. As Shang Tsung was
falling down, Quan Chi caught him by the arm, and flung him
again.
He dashed forward, preparing to stomp Shang Tsung.
However, the red-clad sorcerer thrust at his foe’s throat. Quan Chi
barely managed to dodge, emerging with only a gash on the side of
his throat, centimeters from his jugular.
It took them both a
short while to get back to their feet, but they did. Quan Chi
cracked his neck and knuckles, then smiled. “You have done well,
Shang Tsung. I never would have thought that you could fight this
well. Of course, without your souls, you would be nothing. Let us
finish this.”
Shang Tsung nodded, then readied his straight
sword. “As you wish.”
Quan Chi dashed toward him, but was
stopped by a fireball. As the heat dissipated, the sorcerer spun,
both blades striking with such speed that they seemed to be a blur.
Sparks flew as they impacted with Shang Tsung’s sword, and they
struggled together. Then, the red sorcerer flipped backwards, and
sheathed his sword.
He went back to his crane style, and he
smiled. “Come and attack me.” Quan Chi did, both swords coming down
in a powerful slash. However, Shang Tsung grabbed both of his arms,
and flung them back. With one smooth motion, he unsheathed the
straight sword, and impaled it into Quan Chi.
The pale
sorcerer’s eyes grew larger, and he coughed. “A cheap blow,
sorcerer. But it.. .will not… stop me…”
Shang Tsung smirked.
“Quan Chi, I assume that you know how this impaling technique works,
right? The blade attaches itself not merely to your flesh, but to
your soul, as well. It slowly drains you, drawing your power and
strength and locking it away.”
Quan Chi coughed again. “I am
not… yet defeated… I will not… give you the time… you
need…”
Once again, Shang Tsung laughed. “I have won.
Therefore… Soldiers of the Dragon King, restrain him.” The
automatons obeyed instantly, arresting his arms and legs. Meanwhile,
Shang Tsung went back to his balcony, and sat down. One of his
servants offered a glass of wine, and Shang Tsung
accepted.
“Now, Quan Chi, why did you think you could defeat
me. In my own palace, under my own rules?”
“You… are… weak…
If you hadn’t… impaled me… I would have won…”
The healthy
sorcerer took a sip of wine, then summoned a soul to his hand. “So
it would seem. Even so, the fact that I can use souls to heal
myself, and with the Dragon King’s army at my side, guarantee my
victory.”
Quan Chi seemed even paler than usual. “You stole…
that amulet… from me…”
Shang Tsung smiled. “No, but Kano did
an acceptable job. You shouldn’t have spent so much time meditating
on far-away events. After all, it was your neighbor that you wished
to destroy.” The sorcerer took another drink of wine. “Did you enjoy
your life?”
Quan Chi’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Exactly
that. Did you enjoy your life? Did you take souls you wanted? Did
you enjoy the pleasures that life can offer? Did you succeed in your
goals? Did you… have fun?”
Quan Chi coughed.
“Fool…”
Shang Tsung took another sip of wine, then put the
glass down. “Fool? Hm… perhaps during the first century or so. But,
as the saying goes, what didn’t kill me made me stronger. I was
close to death, several times. Liu Kang nearly killed me twice. Kung
Lao nearly killed me. Shao Khan nearly killed me. Shinook nearly
killed me. Raiden nearly killed me. You nearly killed me. But, all
of you failed. Half of you are dead now, and a third of your souls
reside in me. A pity I couldn’t get Shinook… A god’s soul would
boost my power by a considerable step, wouldn’t you say?”
The
dying sorcerer was noticeably weakening. “You couldn’t handle the
strain…”
“Perhaps. Then again, I did claim the soul of Shao
Khan. He was nearly a god in his own right, with longevity and power
to spare. But a true god? Ah, that would be a feast. And think of
theologic complications. If I consumed the soul of a god, would I
become a god myself? Or, would I simply be a human with the powers
of a deity?”
Quan Chi slid to one knee, and his eyes began to
glaze over. “I… don’t… know…”
Shang Tsung leaned over the
balcony’s railing, and stared straight into the unfocused eyes of
Quan Chi. “That much is certain. Now, how much longer do you think
you can last? Your blood is slowly but surely escaping…”
And
so it was. The Oriental sorcerer raised his hand, and a stream of
souls began to flow out of Quan Chi’s body. “Amazing things, souls.
They can tear a body apart when used as a weapon, and they power my
invincible army, and they enable me to live forever… Yet
taking them is so easy. Humans do not realize what power they
possess, and they cannot use it, because they are afraid of their
own life. Pathetic, really.”
Quan Chi weakly struggled
against his captors, trying to reclaim some of the souls. In vain,
of course. “I… am… dying… At least… give… me… a decent…” His voice
trailed off in a pained whisper, and his head slowly began to drop
onto his chest.
His opponent leaned forward again. “I’m
sorry, I couldn’t quite make that out. A decent what,
exactly?”
Quan Chi fell to his other knee. While his lips
moved, no sound came out. Shang Tsung shrugged, and pulled another
soul out of the pale one’s body. “Interesting. You have fewer
warrior souls than I. Most of yours are those of noncombatants. May
I ask why you did so? Surely you could have taken your pick of the
finest warriors, but why didn’t you…”
Quan Chi’s head snapped
up, and his eyes burned with an unnatural vehemence. “So they
wouldn’t turn on me!”
Shang Tsung smiled. “Ah… I see. You
were afraid that your weak will would not be able to contain the
souls you have consumed. Am I correct?”
Quan Chi continued
staring at Shang Tsung, though the glow was slowly fading. “You can
not assume that your souls will be obedient to you. They shall turn
on you, as freedom is the key to the human… heart. Then you shall
die… and my soul shall be avenged… Even if you take the souls of the
entire world… what would it have gained for you… when you are the
only one left to enjoy your immortality? But this I predict with my
dying breath… You shall go to a far-off place… And you shall die in
a place far away from here, alone and friendless… and you shall die
of that which you fear most…” Saying this, Quan Chi’s eyes closed,
and his form collapsed on itself. His guards flung the now-white
form of Quan Chi on the floor, and it crumpled into a
heap.
Shang Tsung raised his hands, and Quan Chi’s soul came
flying to him. The living sorcerer merely stared at the soul for a
short time, admiring the bright glow coming from it. “For all of his
mistakes, Quan Chi was a warrior. If he had not come to my aid, I
might still be living in a more miserable condition.”
He
turned to the pair of undead soldiers yet standing guard over Quan
Chi’s corpse. To one, he commanded, “Return my straight sword to
me.” To the other he said, “Throw the corpse into the acid
bath.”
As they shuffled off to perform his wish, the sorcerer
stared at the soul. Strangely, it still seemed to hold some
resemblance to Quan Chi. “At least our rivalry had a final
conclusion. There is nothing worse than a false ending.” He
chuckled.
The soul flowed into Shang Tsung’s heart, and
immediantly a transformation began. The sorcerer’s body got younger
and stronger, and raw power seemed to arc through his body. Even his
hair went from its usual brown color to a deep black. He laughed,
and took a step forward. “Marvelous…”
Kano cleared his
throat, and raised his eyebrow. “Not that I’m complaining, Mr. Shang
Tsung, but we do have a schedule to keep. Don’t want to keep
our adoring public waiting, do we?”
The sorcerer snorted, and
turned to his accomplice. “Be patient. I need to prepare my
belongings for the trip, and I need to open a portal. It will only
take a short while… Servant!”
A black-robed man walked
forward, bowing repeatedly. “I have prepared your belongs, my lord.
If I may?” The sorcerer curtly nodded, and two other robed figures
struggled forward, heavily burdened with a large crate. “These are
all the supplies you shall need while in Earthrealm, my
lord.”
The thaumaturge looked at the crate, then to the
commander of his army, the former Li Mei. “Carry it.”
Without
question, the commander walked over, and hefted up the crate in one
hand. Shang Tsung smiled. “At last, now we can begin our campaign.”
He stepped forward, and raised the amulet.
Soundlessly, the
sorcerer accessed the powers of the amulet, and a portal between
Outworld and Earthrealm was opened. However, something was wrong.
“That… doesn’t lead to Earthrealm…”
The sorcerer stepped
back, and sneered. “What trickery is this?” Then the portal consumed
him and his commander.
IP: Logged |
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Baka
|
Posted: 03-29-2003 , 04:04
AM |
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Heaven or Hell?
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location:
|
Nice
intro there, Draco. I've played a little big of MK A, so it kinda makes sense to me Very nice. You stay away from Ky's soul now,
y'hear!
Baka // Black
Angel // Salva Nos
"I'm not good- looking enough to be
party leader." - Robin Cook
IP: Logged |
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Renmazuo |
Posted: 03-31-2003 , 04:41
AM |
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Cute Widdle Cleric Girl
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Graveyard of
Airships
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Alma Beoulve -
Prologue: Gleipnir (I)
Prologue Primus - Gleipnir
My
legs...my shins feel like they're bleeding. It's so cold...oh, where
are you? Where are you?!
Igros was harsh in the winter.
The city's rulers prided itself on having no slums, no dregs in
which the bottom tier of society wasted away, but those who saw
Igros at the core knew that wasn't the truth. As much as Dycedarg
Beoulve and Duke Larg liked to ignore it, there were bad
neighborhoods in Igros, where the veterans of the Fifty Year War
came to die and thieves schemed doomed rebellions against the crown.
They were dark streets and alleys, living in the shadow of the
majestic castle and cast away from its grace. They were abandoned,
and those abandoned with it were at the mercy of the weather. And in
winter, death and despair were at their highest here.
Alma
ran through those streets and alleys, the tears in her eyes frosting
in the cold. Her shins were sore, she'd been running for what felt
like hours, and her face was parched and chapped. It was so late at
night, and she could barely see, and her lantern was growing dim.
The fatigue, the cold, and the monotonous echoes of her own
footsteps on the barren alley floors were setting in. Alma was
beginning to tire, and she felt she would fall soon, fainting
against the dark walls of these abandoned houses, weakened by the
cold.
...no. I will not...I have to find
her!
She grunted, stuffing the small purple scarf against
her mouth, chafing her cheeks and lips. She forced her eyes to stay
open, holding out the swishing lantern in her hand, and peered into
the alleys as she ran. Her eyes caught moldy blankets crumpled
against the walls, long deserted by their homeless owners as they
wandered along. The alley before her was filled with these blankets,
and she could see no one in sight. Just old blankets, strewn across
her path.
Alma hurried along, scanning the alley. Zalbag
said he saw her run to this district...by the Saints, it's so cold,
how in her right mind could she rush out here like this? She bit
her lip as she reached a separate passage in the alley, her concern
increasing along with the frigid exhaustion in her body. She came to
a stop, looking into the new path before her- and nearly fell to her
knees as the pain flared in her shins again. She winced and leaned
her free hand on the grimy wall- it was all so painful. She
shouldn't be out here, she knew; she'd just gotten over a severe
fever, and this would not help at all. Tomorrow she would surely be
ill, she could even miss seeing Ramza and Delita off to the Academy.
They'd been on a break period for the past few days, and Alma hadn't
gotten to talk to them much…
...I'm not turning
back.
"Hff...hff...just don't keep me out here…too long,"
Alma breathed, shuffling forward. She raised the lantern again,
squinting into the cold darkness. She saw the passage was a dead end
of chilled black brick and more blankets, and there was a large
trash bin at the end, boarded up and shoved aside. Alma smelled
something foul, and grunted again as she stuffed the scarf against
her nose. She took a step further, casting a little more light on
the path. She saw something huddled against the bin, shifting under
a dark purple blanket-
Alma froze. She could not mistake that
shade of purple. "Teta!"
She rushed forward, and the lantern
cast light over her lost friend. Teta sat there, her arms wrapped
around her knees and her body resting against the pungent trash bin.
Her dress was in disarray, her purple skirt torn from running and
the sleeves of her blouse matted and dirty. She turned her head up,
her brown hair tangled around a lovely face streaked with tears- and
crust. Alma felt hot rage well up in her stomach as Teta turned her
dark eyes to her, exposing the bits of pie crust that littered her
cheeks. In Ajora's name, how could they have done such a
thing...?
"Oh, Teta..." Alma slumped by the other girl, the
lantern clattering at her side. She reached out, tenderly touching
Teta's cheek. "Teta, you're like ice...come back with me,
please!"
Teta shut her eyes and turned her face away.
"...why...why'd you come out here? I wanted to be
alone..."
"Don't say that. Don't ever say that, please." Alma
tugged her scarf loose, her blonde hair falling to chill the back of
her neck. She wrapped it around Teta's shoulders, breathing warm
puffs of air on her neck. "You shouldn't be out here...please, Teta,
come back with me."
Teta's eyelids squeezed further, and she
pressed her hand to her face. "G...go away! Go...aah..." Her voice
cracked, and she sniffed, failing to hold back a wheezing sob.
"They...they threw food at me, Alma..."
Alma hugged
Teta fiercely, grimacing as her own throat tightened with pain and
anger. Teta slumped against her willingly, her weeping muffled in
Alma's chest. The wind was sharp and cold over both of them, but the
fury in Alma's heart dispelled it all. She was angry. She was
angry. Those ‘classmates' of theirs had planned it all. She
and Teta had been so looking forward to the graduation dance at
Igros Aristocratic School…
All just because her blood
isn't the color of their feather hats. She was going to ask Ramza
for a dance, and they cut her off...mashed a pie in her face. Called
her a dog. Alma grit her teeth and hugged Teta tightly. Those
uncaring, mean little fools...
Teta shuddered, sighing
into Alma's shirt. "A...Alma, my chest..."
Alma looked down,
moving Teta just enough to see her chest. She froze again, finding
Teta's collar ripped down to the slope of one breast- and a ragged
chip of glass cutting into her skin. Alma glanced in horror at Teta.
Her face was pale, her eyes heavy and red, and she winced. "Fell,
I...I was running…"
"Oh, Teta..." Alma moved her hand
carefully to the cut, tentatively grasping it between her thumb and
forefinger. It was not deep, but the cold was clearly not helping.
Teta gasped as she took hold of it, her hands wrenching Alma's
skirt. Alma did not relent, knowing she had to get it out. She
touched a finger along the flesh, finding the outline of the shard
in Teta's cold skin. She swallowed, looking back to Teta with a weak
smile. "It's okay, Teta...I'll take it out. Be still…"
Teta
nodded back, still sniffling. Alma cupped her other hand close to
Teta's breast, and slowly grasped the sharp edges of the glass
again. She rubbed Teta's chest soothingly, then, with the utmost of
caution, pulled out the shard. The torn flesh fell back, bleeding,
and Teta jerked, twisting her hands in the cloth of Alma's skirt.
"Gngh..."
"Shh...it's okay, it's out," Alma whispered,
tossing the shard aside. "I'll take care of it. Easy..." She placed
her fingers close to the wound, pressing against the flesh where the
shard had cut. She bowed her head towards Teta's shoulder, and
puckered her lips, blowing softly on the cut. "Per animam meam,
adsumate signo tuto uto care, una pretiosa," she whispered.
"Through my heart, receive this protective spell to use, precious
one..."
Her fingers pressed down once, but Teta did not
wince. A sparkling pink light was already there, at the center of
the cut, weaving its way along the broken flesh. It cast its gentle
glow over Alma's face as she blew upon its essence, and then coursed
through the wound. The flesh sealed up and the blood caked and fell
away, its glow fading into Teta's chest. Then it was as if the cut
had never been.
Teta relaxed under Alma's grip, breathing in
relief as the warm light finally disappeared into her chest. Then
all was cold again, and her head fell forward. "...Alma, I'm so
sorry..."
Alma gave her the best smile she had, pulling up
Teta's blouse and tying it up. "I'll have to sew this when you're
home...and clean this up, too." She gave her fingers a small lick
and wiped at Teta's cheek, rubbing off bits of pie crust. Again, she
smiled. "You know, even with all the pie, Ramza would have danced
with you in a heartbeat. After throwing all those jerks out the
window, of course."
Teta chuckled, a weak but comforted
sound. She curled her arms over her chest, barely moving as Alma
cleaned her cheek. She sobered again, sniffling and doing her best
to wipe a tear on her sleeve. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have run like
that. It was stupid of me...stupid, stupid...I should've just gone
home..."
Alma used the scarf's edge to dry Teta's cheeks,
then drew the other girl back into an embrace. "I would have
followed you even then, Teta..." She winced. "Oh, you're
freezing...here, I know the way back, I'll help you
up."
"N-no..." Teta swallowed, burying her face in Alma's
shoulder. "I'm...I don't want to move..."
Alma tilted her
head, suddenly alarmed. "Wh-why? Are you hurt anywhere else...?"
Teta made no response to that, only buried her head further in. She
shook again, and Alma knew she was going to cry. Her own eyes welled
up, the anger seizing her again. This wasn't fair. Teta was such a
good student, smart and diligent- and her dearest friend. All
through their early lives they'd been close, and Alma did not forego
friendship so easily. Teta was a good person, a good
person…
She rested her hand on Teta's nape, stroking it
gently. "...you know something, Teta?"
Teta shook her head,
not looking up.
"I wish I were more like
you."
"Virtus in
cordibus tranquillibus floret. Iustitia est mecum. Per animam meam,
cave. Cave."
-- Sponsoring Alma Beoulve, Survivor X.
Last
edited by Renmazuo on 04-15-2003 at 03:20 AM
IP: Logged |
|
Renmazuo |
Posted: 03-31-2003 , 04:46
AM |
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Cute Widdle Cleric Girl
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Graveyard of
Airships
|
Alma Beoulve -
Prologue: Gleipnir (II)
Teta
gulped, shaking her head again. "No, you don't...I'm...they call me
trash, Alma. Dog. Wench...and..." She trembled, squeezing her hands
in Alma's skirt once more. "After a while...you begin to believe
it..."
Oh, God... Alma gently pulled Teta's head back,
biting a trembling lip. "Teta. These people have been saying these
things for six months...six months. A long time, and even one second
is far too much. You deserve to be called none of those things..."
She brushed back a lock from Teta's forehead, smiling gently. "But,
you know...I've known you for fifteen years. For those fifteen
years, I have always wanted to be like you. You are a good person,
better than me..." Alma chafed her shoulders, gently kneading Teta's
cold muscles. "Amica mea cara, te amo...ego te amo. Semper ego te
amo. You know that..."
Teta leaned her head in Alma's
hand, smiling back as best as she could. "Alma..."
The way
she said her name was enough to make Alma want to weep with joy, but
she restrained it, putting on another smile. She tugged Teta closer
and hugged her again, even tighter. She took a deep breath, her
friend's familiar scent flooding through her, and suddenly the night
wasn't so cold. "Don't run, Teta...I don't want you to fall again.
I'm always here. I won't ever leave you."
Teta shook a
little, gently placing her hands on Alma's sides. "...don't make
promises like that, Alma," she said, her voice strained.
Alma
frowned slightly. "Why not?"
"...I've seen you coughing,
lately." Teta swallowed- Alma wished she could take that lump out of
her throat- and squeezed fistfuls of Alma's blouse. "I know you're
sick...I know you're in pain...ahh, haha...look at me." She turned
her head up, her eyes far redder now. "I make you and everyone run
out here in the cold...right when you're ill. I'm...oh, I can't even
say ‘I'm sorry', Alma! I can't even say that...mmf!" She shook her
head back and forth, trying to choke back the lump. "I'm...b-by God,
Alma, you're my only friend..."
Teta bowed her head again.
"Can...can you imagine what it feels like? To see you cough, or see
you sneeze...or hear you say you have a headache, or a stomach
ache...to just know you're not well, and...and to...to
feel..."
Alma's breath came to a slow, deliberate halt. Her
heart quickened in its pace, a throbbing surge rushing from her
belly to her throat. Few things had ever affected her like that-
like hearing from your dearest friend that she feared for your life
even when the most minuscule threat to it appeared. Alma could
barely speak, her parched lips managing only, "Teta..."
Teta
slumped against her once more, and this time it was she who embraced
Alma- no, clung to her. "Alma...Alma, please...when you promise
that, you have to mean it with all your heart. Please...Alma, don't
throw me away, don't leave me..."
It would have been so easy
to pity her. But pity was never reserved for those with the ardor,
the life that Teta had, and especially not when they bared such
passion. Alma gently cupped the back of Teta's head, just under and
behind her ear, and guided Teta gently from her shoulder to her
chest- over her own heart. Teta stopped sniffling, and Alma stroked
down the back of her neck, smoothing out her hair. She turned her
head down towards Teta's, and spoke softly. "By the heart that beats
here, Teta, I promise I won't ever leave you...for as long as you
live, I won't let death touch me..." She smiled. "I won't let it
touch you, either."
Teta was quiet. Her body quivered in
Alma's embrace, her body flashing cold and hot. Alma chafed her arms
again, doing her best to keep Teta warm. She stopped, though, when
Teta placed her left hand on her right. The brown-haired girl
brought that hand up and behind her head; Alma frowned a little,
wondering what it was Teta was trying to guide her to. A moment
later, as Teta brought the young Cleric's fingers to close around
her ponytail, Alma knew. There was a small bow tying Teta's hair
together, and Teta made Alma tug it free. Teta shook her hair loose,
letting it cascade down her back. Alma smiled- she actually looked
even prettier like that.
"Um...here," Teta said, drawing
their hands back around to Alma's chest. She pressed the bow into
Alma's palm, and averted her gaze. "This...this can be the sign of
that promise, yes?"
Alma looked into her palm, studying the
bow. It was a woven cloth of crimson, though it appeared pink, and
was softer and lighter than all the bows Alma had. She rubbed its
surface, and it felt like...
Like the skin on Teta's
cheeks...this is a holy cloth. I cannot take it-
"You
will take it," Teta said, seeming to read her own thoughts.
"Please...I-I don't know much about it, it was something my mother
gave me, before she got sick. Gleipnir, she called
it...supposed to be unbreakable, or something silly like that..."
She gave Alma's hand another squeeze. "If you keep it close,
maybe...maybe you'll be that much more blessed..."
Alma
reached behind her head, her smile never fading as she tied it into
her hair. "I will. Hee-hee, I'll be the second-prettiest girl in
Igros, thanks to this! After you, of course."
"Hah-hah..."
Teta smiled back, rubbing her eyes. "You always cheer me so. Thank
you..."
"You've given me twice as much cheer," Alma said, and
meant it. She perked her head up as a shout came from nearby-
Zalbag, most likely. She put her arms around Teta's shoulders again,
and gave her a gentle tug. "I think I hear Zalbag. Come on,
now...you look so sleepy. Let's get you back to the estate and clean
you up..."
"...all right," Teta said, sighing as Alma stood
her up. "Alma, I'm so very sorry..."
Alma shook her head.
"Teta, you have nothing to be sorry about. But, believe me, those
clowns will be sorry tomorrow," she said, setting her jaw.
"You're as much a Beoulve as I am."
Teta chuckled, leaning
her head on Alma's shoulder. "I like to think that."
"Then do
so! I doubt Father thinks of you as anything but a daughter," Alma
said, slinging Teta's arm over her shoulders. "Now shh. Some hot
water and a good, warm night's sleep is what you need."
She
left the lantern- Zalbag had many, and besides, the people that
wandered through here were in more need of light than she. Alma
guided Teta along, walking towards the alley again. She could hear
Zalbag growing closer, his crisp voice ringing out across the
district as he called for them. She was glad- in just a few minutes,
she and Teta and Zalbag and everyone would be back at the Estate,
warm and ready for a long night's rest. The night had ended
well.
"Alma...?"
Alma looked back at Teta, and found
her friend's dark eyes peering into her own. She tilted her head,
returning the stare. "Yes...?"
Teta smiled drowsily. "I'm
sorry...could you say what you told me again...? In the Middle
Glabdic...?"
"Say wh...oh..." Alma smiled back, tugging Teta
closer, and whispered back to her. "Amica mea cara, ego te
amo...semper ego te amo."
Teta closed her eyes, and
pulled the scarf until it draped over both their necks. "Amica
mea..."
"Amica mea cara. Semper, amica mea
pretiosa..."
---
She left me at Fort Zeakden.
Along with Delita, and Ramza. All of them left me, and that was when
I began to doubt. I began to fear. I began to feel the terror that
she told me about- that of loss. When she told me how much she
feared for my life at all those meaningless moments- when I sneezed,
when I coughed- I felt...I felt like life was worth even more than I
already valued it. And life was richer for having Ramza and Delita,
and Father, and Zalbag, and even Dycedarg, all in it. For having
Teta in it.
That's why it hurt when she left me. That's why I
began to doubt.
Don't take that the wrong way. Doubt is a
beautiful gift that's been given to mankind- without doubt, we would
still have slaves. Without doubt, we would have no boats. Without
doubt, we wouldn't know God. Perhaps, without doubt, we would be
less human. But we have doubt, and for that, I am immensely
grateful. Yet, as with all things, doubt has a darker side, and that
is fear. And the ultimate point of fear- the nadir of its darkness-
is despair. Despair is a terrible sin.
That is why I am here
now. When Teta left me, and when Zalbag came to me from Zeakden,
grim-faced...I started to doubt. I'm still doubting, and gradually,
I think I may be yet slipping into that darker side of
doubt.
...yet I still do not fear. I will never fear. I
won't. Ever. For Teta's sake, I won't give in to
that.
Teta...ego te amo. I love you. Semper ego te amo. I
will always love you.
Amica mea cara. My beloved
friend.
+ End Prologue Primus +
Last
edited by Renmazuo on 04-15-2003 at 03:21 AM
IP: Logged |
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Slipstream |
Posted: 03-31-2003 , 11:38
AM |
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Maester of Monsters
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Graveyard Within My
Mind
|
Renmazou, it's a great intro but there's a serious
problem with whatever font you're using. Maybe I'm wrong and it's
just my computer, but instead of speech marks I'm seeing a bunch of
symbols and other gibberish. Here's a screenshot of what I mean, since
you're probably not seeing it at your end.
People like
you. People who plan out every little detail of their
lives.
You could never understand me.
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Baka
|
Posted: 03-31-2003 , 12:07
PM |
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Heaven or Hell?
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location:
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Actually, I get the same thing..
Baka // Black
Angel // Salva Nos
"I'm not good- looking enough to be
party leader." - Robin Cook
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Soujiro
Seta |
Posted: 03-31-2003 , 01:54
PM |
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The Silver Ogre
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Beyond Death
|
Echoing the previous sentiment, that was a great
first-part of the 'ol Intro, TK. Truly heartwarming, I think.
However...yeah, you need to use a different font. I think whatever
font you're using has quotation marks and apostrophes that are their
own stylized characters and don't display properly on the
boards.
*furtively crouches, like a tiger, waiting for the
signal to post his intro*
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San_Draco |
Posted: 03-31-2003 , 02:25
PM |
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El Bruje Sale
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: The realm between the
worlds...
|
You
know, after reading through these intros again, I'm struck by just
how awesome the writing for this tournament is so far. *gets
pumped up*
*remembers that he'll have school during Survivor
X*
Argh! Oh well...
Baka: (you had to know
this was coming) Ky's soul is mine! Seriously, though, Kyo
made sure that I wouldn't take any Sponsor souls. He didn't say
anything about the souls of Fallen, though... 
Just kidding, of course. Or am I? 
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Amethyst |
Posted: 03-31-2003 , 02:50
PM |
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Jellomancer
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location:
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*gets
a headache reading Alma's intro*
This, folks is why I use
Notepad to write my pre-written posts.
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Renmazuo |
Posted: 03-31-2003 , 06:19
PM |
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Cute Widdle Cleric Girl
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Graveyard of
Airships
|
Whaa?
I used WordPad for this thing! XD D'ah, okay, I'll get to fixing
that right away. Sorry, folks!
Edit: It has been repaired!
The apostrophes, quotations, and elipses on Microsoft Word were what
was screwing it up so much. It's fixed now, I think- I replaced all
the special font pieces with plain text. ^^ Sorry!
Last
edited by Renmazuo on 03-31-2003 at 06:35 PM
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CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-31-2003 , 08:01
PM |
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Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
|
Ahh,
don't feel bad, Tenshi - I had EXACTLY the same problem with my
intro. ^^;
... :\
*feels bad since no one's bothering
to read hers :\*
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Renmazuo |
Posted: 03-31-2003 , 08:35
PM |
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Cute Widdle Cleric Girl
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Graveyard of
Airships
|
Hey
now, I'm reading yours! I think you're doing a bang-up job bringing
out Shizumaru's personality and establishing his fighting skills and
reiterating his incredible sexual appea- ER, you're doing fine.
XD
"Virtus in
cordibus tranquillibus floret. Iustitia est mecum. Per animam meam,
cave. Cave."
-- Sponsoring Alma Beoulve, Survivor X.
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CarlyCheeese |
Posted: 03-31-2003 , 09:25
PM |
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Scarlet Rain Silence
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location: Feudal Japan
|
I
already knew YOU read it, silly. XD *patpat Tenshi*
...
reiterate? Hell, I could EXPLOIT it if I wanted.
XDDDD
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Netz
Ausg |
Posted: 04-01-2003 , 01:46
PM |
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Junior Member
Registered: Mar 2003 Location:
|
Part Two
His mind was ablaze,
images and thoughts flashed through the fog of unconsciousness as
his dreams churned through his life, the pain and flashing lights of
that Canadian facility, the loss of his loved ones, his forgotten
past…
Logan awoke with a start, his eyes snapping open and
darting around the room. As his mind cleared slowly, the mugginess
of disturbed sleep threatened to draw him back to unconsciousness,
adrenaline barely keeping him awake. Sniffing at the air and slowly
raising himself out of the bed his knuckles itched, his instincts
telling him to pop his claws.
“Creed.”
The door
exploded inwards in a shower of splinters, followed by Sabretooth
and he rolled into the room. Coming up again he barely had time to
look at Logan before he was knocked down again.
“What are you
doing here Creed!”
The two figures rolled back out the door
and hit the corridor wall hard, temporarily freeing themselves of
each other.
“You know why I’m here son, don’t act
ignorant.”
The two mutants clashed again, this time
Sabretooth overpowering Logan. The two bodies were driven back by
Creed’s strength, and they hit the window. Smashing through they hit
the street below at force and the two men grunted in pain as the
wind was knocked out of them.
“Holy
shit!”
“Muties!”
They stood facing each other, the
people on the streets either staring in disbelief or running for
their lives. “You’re not getting my goddamn adamantium,” Logan
wheezed, “and you never will!”
The sight of a man wearing
nothing but boxers and bleeding from the nose and several cuts on
his back was a strange enough thing alone, but the sight of a larger
man wearing a skin tight red and brown outfit with fur seemingly
growing from his back wrists and ankles was enough to send even the
most curious bystander packing. The fact that he has inch long claws
and sharpened canine teeth were just the icing on the
cake.
Gritting his teeth, Sabretooth said, “Aw, come on son,
would you begrudge your old man your life? I gave it to you, I can
take it a- ”
Logan tackled him at waist height and drove his
back into the wall of the apartment block, his claws ripping through
the flesh between his knuckles and extending to full length with a
‘Snikt’.
“That’s the spirit boy,” Sabretooth said, grinning
as he smashed his clasped fists into Logan’s head, “I didn’t think a
son of mine would back down.”
Logan never was one for words
and as the pain in the back of his head was bested only by the agony
of his face as it struck the floor burned through him, his control
slackened and his sight became tinted with red.
A guttural
roar split the night as Logan kicked up at Sabretooth and struck his
chest. Not stopping for a second he span on his knee, bring his feet
to bear under him and gaining purchase before pouncing forward.
Slashing in a roundhouse motion, his claws bit flesh and a wave of
grim satisfaction swam through Logan’s mind. In a full berserker
rage he found himself enjoying the violence, the angry scream he
induced filling him with a taste for more.
Fitting his name
sake, Wolverine roared bestially again and continued cutting, biting
and striking Sabretooth. Pain flashed into his consciousness, but it
was drowned out again by the cry of the beast inside him.
His
head struck Sabretooth’s face, the crunch of cartilage and wet
feeling of blood drawing a yearning to kill as his fist punched into
Creed’s side. The claws sunk deep, coming out of his back and
hitting the wall, before Wolverine ripped his fist to the right,
poring his inhuman strength into rending the flesh of his so called
Father.
Then it was over.
Stumbling backwards Logan
sank to the floor and the last thing that he felt before the red
tint of blood lust was replaced with the black of unconsciousness
was of sheer agony as he realised that he hadn’t come out of the
fight unscathed.
Two to
tango...
IP: Logged |
|
Exeter |
Posted: 04-01-2003 , 10:52
PM |
|
Rock You
 Registered: Feb 2003 Location:
|
~Under
Pressure~ Sol Badguy--Greatest Hits, Track 2
Chippin'
around Kick my brains round the floor These are the days It
never rains but it pours
The dark-haired man was
motionless, every muscle tensed, all of his attention on the...the
sword behind him.
…the blade gleamed
brilliantly in the candlelight, razor-sharp
and...
Yeah...better to focus on the sword than
the boy.
He’d likely end up killing him, otherwise, and, much
as he hated to admit it, he didn’t want the kid dead.
The
beat had faded completely, and all the world was silent, curiously
awaiting the inevitable action, from one man or the other, that
would end the tension.
And one had already laid his cards on
the table.
Straight flush, queen high. Not
bad.
But the other still had an ace up his
sleeve.
So he turned.
High stakes bet, this
time.
Slowly.
And yet there’s nothing left to
lose.
His eyes fell to rest on those of Ky
Kiske.
The boy's face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes were
a storm, one that echoed the torrent outside, surpassed it, and
consumed it utterly, remorselessly.
The wrath of Heaven
(or Hell?) lay behind those eyes.
The
Fuuraiken continued to shine, anxious for its wielder's next attack,
and that wielder’s eyes suggested that the blade's hunger would soon
find satisfaction.
All it would take was a flick of the
wrist.
--and you’re dead baby--
Glancing down
at the singed earth at his feet where the bolt from the Thunderseal
had struck, Sol couldn't help but match Kiske's anger with some of
his own. Not too much...just enough to make things
interesting.
Always was a cocky little
son-of-a-bitch.
Kiske was ever silent, his sword aimed to
pierce his rival's heart at a moment's notice.
A moment more
than Sol would ever have spared him, but to deprive him of that
moment would mean...
The boy who was no longer a boy waited
for an answer, and Sol no longer had the heart--or the patience--to
disappoint.
Somewhat reluctantantly (...still got things
to do, dammit...), the bounty hunter pointed at the door behind
him with a single thumb.
"Outside."
***** Warning: Disc Skip (~static~) --Fast
Forward-- *****
Later, when he'd cooled off, Sol
couldn't help but be a bit surprised at the sudden surge of...well,
hatred...Kiske had shown that day. Sure, the boy had never hesitated
to speak up whenever someone--usually Sol--was doing something that
pissed him off, back in the Order, but never had he let his temper
get the better of him.
“Sol, you idiot!
Do you want to get us killed?” Kiske scolded angrily. “I thought Sir
Kliff told you to guard the rear!”
“Yeah, whatever. I go
where the action is.”
“Shut up and get back
t...”
Well...certainly not enough to curse aloud
and desecrate the floor of the church, anyway.
I must just
have a way with people, Sol would think later,
mirthlessly.
But right now, he was focused.
Rare
thing, that.
The last vestiges of day had long since faded,
leaving a dark, ominous sky…much like that the night he’d left, in
fact. The flashes of lightning provided the only illumination, the
rain poured, and the wind howled.
The spirits of the fallen
cried out, demanding retribution.
None would
listen.
Listen - what people do to their souls They
take their lives - destroy their goals Their basic pride and
dignity Is stripped and torn and shown to pity When this
should be heaven for everyone
Neither of them spoke,
content to let the storm speak for them as they trudged through the
mud, almost side-by-side.
And after an eternity (...couple
minutes...?), they reached the fountain.
A series of
short, gradual steps surrounded the shallow bowl and the towering
marble statue that rose up from it, a robed figure, clutching a
staff in one hand and a teardrop shield in the other. A symbol of
righteousness and justice, a tribute to God's infinite mercy and
good will.
A fitting mascot, as it were, for the
Order.
In more ways than one.
Its head was
missing.
Had been for some eight years, now.
The gear attacked from out of nowhere.
Moments
later, the pair of corpses struck the statue with enough force to
crack...
Sol grimaced.
Somehow…it seemed
appropriate.
Kiske’s eyes made clear that he, too, remembered
it well.
Justice had found justice already.
In the
boy's mind, there was only one man left to blame.
The
Fireseal clenched in a reverse-grip as usual in his left hand, and
his eyes shielded from the rain by his right, Sol turned to face his
nemesis.
“Ready when you are,” he rasped.
“Let me know
when you're willing to answer my questions. Until
then...”
The Thunderseal finished his sentence for
him.
You're rushing headlong Headlong out of control -
yeah And you think you're so strong But there ain't no
stopping
And the duel was on.
And there's
nothin you nothin' you Nothin' you can do about it at
all
Last
edited by Exeter on 04-02-2003 at 10:01 PM
IP: Logged |
|
ShinkuuR |
Posted: 04-03-2003 , 07:26
PM |
|
New College Grad! Whoo!
 Registered: May 2001 Location: Savannah Ga
|
Rydia's Intro: Part 2 of 3
As Rydia stepped
out of the cave and into the night sky, she could barely believe
that the figure she looked upon was the Kingdom of Baron. Brilliant
lights enveloped the castle town as fireworks exploded from above,
and even though she was a couple of miles away the sounds of jovial
music floated effortlessly in the air. On this day one year ago, the
world was freed of Zeromus and roared out in celebration, and once
again it was time to remember their liberation with songs and dances
and laughter.
And as she walked towards the sight, Rydia
didn’t know why people were celebrating at all.
Yes, Zeromus
was destroyed and the populace was saved from the evil, but even
today there were still people suffering and in pain. She didn’t
understand why people were getting drunk celebrating the past while
others are hurting in the present, and the thought saddened her. She
originally planned to skip the event and continue improving her
village instead, but Rosa convinced her to attend a couple a days
ago, saying that ‘it would be demoralizing to the people if one of
the saviors of the planet did not come’.
”For the
people...I guess...”, she thought as she reached the entrance to
the castle, waiting patiently in line as the front guards checked
the party goers for weapons and such. When she reached the guards
she was stopped quite abruptly.
“Miss, please take off your
hood and empty your pockets of all possessions.” The guard on the
right side of the drawbridge nonchalantly said, eyeing the figure
for any sudden movements or hesitations. As soon as Rydia took off
the hood that was attached to her more formal green summoner’s garb,
however, the two guards as well as the villagers behind her kneeled
in respect.
“Oh! Forgive me mistress summoner! I didn’t know
that was you!” Rydia couldn’t see the guard’s face but she could
tell he was embarrassed beyond belief.
“Don’t worry about it.
And please, everyone stand up. I’m just a person like you all.”
Every one slowly rose from their knees and regain their composure.
“We were thinking that you would just teleport in front of
us like you always do.” The other guard said. “You’ve done too much
for our land to have you wait in line, you know.”
“I
guess...” Rydia looked around at the people behind her, then slowly
turned towards the guards. “...but is all this security
necessary?”
“Yes mistress!” The first guard stammered, still
quite embarrassed from his mistake. “The king ordered us to make
sure nothing interferes with the celebration, and we attend to do
just that. Ain’t that right Wedge?” The other guard nodded his
head.
“Please enjoy yourself mistress. You deserve it!” Rydia
sighed silently at the pair and walked past the gate and into the
throne room, where she was bombarded with people dressed in
beautiful gowns and outfits dancing and eating the night away. She
allowed herself a small smile as she spotted Cecil’s unsatisfactory
attempts to dance with Rosa, then made her way to a small chair near
the feast that was prepared for guest. When she sat down Rydia heard
a soft shuffling sound underneath the table, an when she peeked at
what was making the noise she laughed at what she saw. It was a
young boy who was dressed in mage’s robes who was eating some
chicken quite hastily, never taking his eyes of the guests’
extravagant clothing as he reached for more food. When Rydia
recognized the figure, she sighed and tapped the boy on his
shoulder, scaring the hell out of him and caused his chicken leg to
drop.
“Whatcha doin’, Palom?” The boy, also one of the heroes
who fought to defeat Zeromus, quickly regained his composure and
responded to his comrade.
“Uh...What’s up Rydia? Well I was
kinda hungry so I figured I’d just crash out here....wanna bite?”
The boy offered her a piece of chicken, but Rydia shook her hand in
rejection.
“No thanks.” Palom shrugged his shoulders and
returned to eating the chicken. “But aren’t you supposed to be with
your sister and the other mages?”
“Yeah *chomp*, but all they
do *chomp* is talk about magic spells and stuff *chomp burp* and it
gets boring after a while. Hey, if you see my sister don’t tell her
where I am, okay? She’ll have a fit if..HEY!” Palom’s words came a
bit too late as out of nowhere a hand approached him from the
opposite end of the table, yanking the boy from the table and
knocked over some food in the process. Most of the guest turned
towards the sight as Palom stood up, ready to knock some sense into
whoever interrupted his meal.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE...uh
oh...” His voice quickly turned from anger to terror as he realized
the person who pulled him out was his twin sister, Porom. She didn’t
look happy in the least.
“What in the world are you doing
here? Do you know what type of example you’re setting for all the
other mages in Mysidia?”
“But is boring in there
sis!”
“What, are you afraid that you might actually learn
something? Come on!” Porom grabbed her brother by the ear and
started dragging him, making sure to apologize for her interruption
and greet Rydia before heading out the throne room.
As the
laugher from her and the other guests subsided, Rydia found herself
envying Palom’s predicament. Even though the boy was in trouble with
his sister, he was still enjoying his childhood and the joys and
trials it brought him. Rydia, on the other hand, basically had to
give up her childhood for the justice she wanted so desperately, and
even though she looked like an adult and had to act like one all the
time, she still longed to be the kid she once was. Truth be told,
she would rather listen to boring lectures with the twins than at
the celebration, but she had to stay and be a sign of hope for the
people. She sat back down in her chair and watched the scenery for a
while until she can sense someone approaching her from the right.
She could tell who it was from the smell of cheap
cologne.
“Hey babe! What’s up?” As expected, she turned
around to see the Crown Prince of the Eblan Ninja Clan in the finest
clothing that he could muster, holding a drink in one hand while
extending his other hand to her.
“Hello, Edge.” Even though
she was always turned off by his advances toward her, today’s
greeting was colder than usual. Edge almost withdrew his hand, but
the pride in him wouldn’t let that happen.
“Well, what’s with
the grumpy face, beautiful? You should be on the floor dancin’ with
me! Let’s go!” She answered the gesture by continuing to stay in her
seat.
“Don’t you feel bad about being here at all?” Edge
rased a eyebrow at the vision of loveliness in front of him, trying
to actually understand the question.
“What do you mean? Feel
bad that I’m at a rocking party? Not likely! That comment was the
last straw for Rydia, and as he danced a little with the music and
urged her to join him, she rose from her chair and walked past Edge,
headed straight for the East Tower stairs.
“Hey babe, party’s
over here!” Rydia stopped and turned around.
“Sorry, I got a
phone call to make.” And with that she headed up the
stairs.
”What’s a phone call?”, Edge wondered for a
second before he started dancing with two women he saw watching him
from across the room.
SRK Battle
Poll II:10th place - Edge SRK Battle Poll II: 5th place -
Link
One of the reasons why the '24' threads are too
good...
quote:
Originally posted by Azrael-sama
Not to mention
the Triple P's New Ho is going to get herself into all sorts of
shit. We didn't need to see Spinless Weasel Guy stuffing a gun
into his bag to know that's a trap. You have to hand it to Shin
Sherri, not only would she have recognized this blatantly obvious
set-up, she would have RC'ed it into about 7 different traps of
her own. By the time she was done with that guy, he'd be on
welfare and PREGNANT with HER kids.
IP: Logged |
|
ShinkuuR |
Posted: 04-03-2003 , 07:33
PM |
|
New College Grad! Whoo!
 Registered: May 2001 Location: Savannah Ga
|
Kicks.
Punches. Stabs. Fire. Explosions. Slams.
Lasers. Guns. Chains. Blood. Death. Sadness.
These things were common in this fighting arena. Most people
would go on to say that it’s enjoyable sight to see fighters give it
their all in such a chaotic and brutal sport. But the fighters did
not feel the same as they were fighting for their lives, for they
knew that soon their time would be up, and by then it would be too
late for mistakes. Too late for forgiveness. Too late for
sorrow.
With all these thoughts in their heads combined with
the chaos surrounding the area, it’s no wonder that the tiny but
life threatening hazzard went unnoticed by the combatants. And by
the time that one of them noticed the danger it was too
late.
BOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!!
The explosion sent the four
fighters soaring into the air and spiraling out of control, and as
they was just beginning to accept the oblivion that awaited them,
something finally stepped in and claimed dominion over them
all.
Time.
“THE WINNER IS...SAMUS!!!”
“WHAT
THE HELL!!!!!! Where did the Bomb-Omb come from???” Ryo and Robert
screamed at the television screen in protest of the decision as a
blonde woman, quite slender and beautiful, turned her head and
smiled at the boys.
“Hey guys, don’t get mad if you can
handle the competition!”
“What are you talking about King??
Link owned you all match! Look at that, 5 KO’s!” Ryo screamed at the
woman.
“Yeah, but look Ryo!” Yuri smiled at her brother as
she tapped her finger to the screen, pointing to Samus’s win
counter. “9 wins versus Link. Matter of fact, ALL her wins were from
you! You suck!!” The two women started laughing him in
earnest.
“What can I say, Ryo? Charge Beam is too good!”
King’s smile was incredibly sweet as she tapped him on the
shoulder.
“Whatever...” Ryo responded angrily, but honestly
he was glad that they was able to relax like this at all. His father
decided to go to the mountains for a training trip for a couple of
weeks, so he left Ryo, Robert, and Yuri to teach classes. And since
Takuma didn’t like it when they played video games (said that they
would ruin the fighting instincts), this was the only time that they
could play Super Smash Bros. Melee in piece. It was especially
interesting now that they have actually met and fought with most of
the characters in the game, who were all real legends in their
respective worlds and times.
“Man, Peach should’ve beaten you
all...” Robert said, still trying to figure out why he was
losing.
“No dear, Terry’s Higher Peach would’ve ***ed us all,
yours sucks! But don’t feel bad Robert...you don’t suck as bad as
Ryo!” Yuri said, obviously using some newfound slang that she must
have found on one of those video game message boards.
“That’s
IT!! Ryo, let’s team up.”
“Yeah! We’ll show them.”
“If
you insist...but it won’t change anything.” King sighed as the four
switched to team mode and started choosing characters. Suddenly the
phone started ringing throughout the house.
“I got it.” Ryo
stood up from the house and ran into the kitchen to get the phone,
but there was no response from the other line. While he was trying
to figure out what was going on, he heard ringing from his room. He
walked across the hall and made a left into his room, and sure
enough the cell phone on his dresser was ringing.
”This
can’t be...” he thought as he picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hello there.”
“R..Rydia? That
you?”
“Of course. I told you I would call!” Ryo couldn’t
believe it. He didn’t think that he would ever see her again, but
ever since that kiss they had, he was thinking about her more and
more as the weeks passed. He became embarrassed as he noticed that
his heart was beating faster.
“Where are you?” Ryo
asked.
“The Kingdom of Baron.”
“Wha...”
“In my
world.” Ryo could here her laugher through the phone. It pleased him
greatly.
“But...how can you call me from your
world?”
“Before I left, I had Samus modify my phone so I can
call you from anywhere.”
“Samus does everything
right, doesn’t she... ” He murmured to no one in
particular.
“What did you say?”
“I said ‘Samus treats
everyone right, doesn’t she?’.”
“Yes. She’s a very nice
person.”
“Hey Ryo!” Out the other ear, he could here Yuri’s
voice screaming through the house. “Hurry up and get your butt
kicked!” He rolled his eyes.
“COMING!!” He started walking to
the living room, phone in hand. As he sat down he noticed that Yuri
traded her Mewtwo for Roy and Robert switched to Yoshi. King still
had Samus, as usual.
“Hey Ryo, who did you beat up for the
cell phone money?” King giggled, not believing that he would
actually go out and by one.
“This was given to me if you MUST
know.”
“Who’s on the phone man?” Robert
asked.
“Rydia.”
“Really? How is she?” While she was
listening to the conversation, King realized that she didn’t know
who that was.
“Yuri, who’s Rydia?” Robert heard the question,
and after flashing an evil grin at his best friend he
answered.
“That’s his girlfriend!!”
“WHAT?? She’s not
my...”
“Ryo, what’s going on? You okay?” Rydia spoke through
the phone, worried that something might have happened to
him.
“Um, I’m fine! Everything’s okay...” At least he felt
that way until he looked at King. She still had a smile on her face,
but it didn’t look quite as pleasant as before.
“Oh Ryo
finally has a girlfriend now! How...sweet!” He knew that he was in
trouble as the tone of her voice rang through his ears. Ever since
the two met there was an unspoken relationship between them, more
than friendship but less than a romantic attachment. They both
really cared for the other and they knew that it was a matter of
time before they became a couple, but both were also shy and nervous
about admitting their feelings. His feelings for Rydia were true
enough, but he also thought that with her gone he wouldn’t have a
chance. Now that she actually wanted to talk to him...
“I
told you...it’s not like that.” He said nervously, feeling a small
headache coming on as he picked up his controller and picked Young
Link.
“And why would I care?” King asked, trying to pretend
that she wasn’t affected by the situation. Ryo decided to cut his
losses and stop arguing with her at the moment. Robert and Yuri
started laughing inwardly as King turned to the TV and picked the
Game and Watch stage. The four started to play as Ryo turned back to
the cell phone.
“So, what’s going on? You don’t sound very
happy.” Ryo asked Rydia. “Are things getting any better back
home?”
“Not really. The reconstruction of my home was
finished today, but it’s still bad here. I’m afraid that a civil war
will erupt soon...”
“I see. I’m sorry I can’t help...” Samus’
Grappling Beam casually tossed Young Link out of the
arena.
“I know...” Rydia looked at the midnight sky that
surrounded her on top of the tower, wishing that she could just see
him. “I wish everyone here wanted to help as much as you
do.”
“What do you mean? I thought that your friends were
helping you?”
“Well they are, but tonight they are having a
party! How can they do that when there are still problems out
there?”
“Rydia, there are times that people have to enjoy
what life has to offer so they can remind themselves what they are
fighting for. If they continually use their energy to save everyone,
eventually you would lose focus and burn yourself out. Then you
can’t save anyone.”
Rydia let his words swim around her head
and her heart for a bit.
“You’re probably right. I guess I’m
just so tired from fighting that I want it to be over as soon as
possible.”
As Young Link started his bomb techniques against
the three, Ryo thought of a idea. Although it could potentially get
him into a lot of trouble, he decided it was just what Rydia
needed.
“When’s the last time you had a
vacation?”
SRK Battle
Poll II:10th place - Edge SRK Battle Poll II: 5th place -
Link
One of the reasons why the '24' threads are too
good...
quote:
Originally posted by Azrael-sama
Not to mention
the Triple P's New Ho is going to get herself into all sorts of
shit. We didn't need to see Spinless Weasel Guy stuffing a gun
into his bag to know that's a trap. You have to hand it to Shin
Sherri, not only would she have recognized this blatantly obvious
set-up, she would have RC'ed it into about 7 different traps of
her own. By the time she was done with that guy, he'd be on
welfare and PREGNANT with HER kids.
Last
edited by ShinkuuR on 04-03-2003 at 07:35 PM
IP: Logged |
|
ShinkuuR |
Posted: 04-03-2003 , 07:40
PM |
|
New College Grad! Whoo!
 Registered: May 2001 Location: Savannah Ga
|
“It
didn’t work?”
“Well, all of the data worked itself
out...maybe it’s taking a longer time than we
thought...?”
“But it’s been 15 minutes. Maybe the subject was
too injured to survive the process?”
“I told you all that it
was a bad idea to use a human for the first subject. Especially one
this damaged.”
“Oh well. At least we obtained some samples
while he was still alive. We could always try it again on some
fresher subjects.”
“Nonsense.” Wesker said, joining the five
scientists who were looking inside the containment unit that housed
the body of Steve Burnside. They just injected him with the O-Virus
after spending all day gathering samples of the T-Veronica in
Steve’s body, and making sure that the dosage was correct for the
body’s genetic content. The dosage didn’t seem to work however, as
after fifteen minutes his body was still dead to the world. “We
needed a subject with enough brain capacity and physical stability
to withstand the process. Have patience, my friends. Even Alexia
took fifteen years for the T-Veronica to adapt to the...”
His
words stopped dead in his tracks as Steve’s eyes opened. As the
scientists cheered their incredible accomplishment, Wesker could
only stare in horror as he realized that the blood red eyes were not
the same eyes of the host. They were something else...something
familiar...and something he never thought he would see
again.
This can’t... As if to dispel any lingering
doubt Wesker had in his mind, Steve flashed a devilish smile at the
shaken scientist.
Security!! Get here...!
His
warning came too late.
In a flash the glass containment unit
broke, allowing Steve to walk through. His body was covered in a
reddish hue, and his face looked like a pure testament of a demon in
itself. None of the scientist had anytime to reach as the demon
pushed his arm forward, spreading a wave of energy that picked up
everyone in the room and slammed them into the wall so hard that no
one survived except Wesker. Steve walked up towards the fallen man,
who was still barely conscious, and picked him up by the neck with
his left hand.
“S...Sho...how did...” Steve Burnside, now
being controlled Sho’s consciousness, started slapping Wesker in the
face lightly.
“You pathetic creatures are all the same. You
always want to enjoy the good stuff without thinking of the
consequences. No manners at all...” Sho shook his head
disapprovingly, obviously playing with his prey before he pounces on
it. “...but at least you were nice enough to provide me with another
souvenir.”
Before Wesker could began to wonder what he meant,
Sho thrust his hand inside his prey’s right eye and savagely tore it
from its socket. And, like the last time, the pain and shock drove
Wesker to collapse. And also like the last time, Sho tossed the body
through the air with a small “Hmmp”. He then checked out his new
body and assessed his strength, seemly unaware of the ear-wrecking
sirens and multitude of footsteps that were rapidly
approaching.
“Ugh. I wouldn’t even give this body to my pet.
Oh well, guess it’s time to go shopping!” He started to walk out the
door slowly after taking a second to admire his work. “And I know
just what to buy.”
“What the hell is going on?” The
doctor thought as he finally finished closing down his lab for the
night. Emergencies like this were commonplace here, but he had never
seen so many guards head towards the lab before. He didn’t like
where this was going, so after grabbing his briefcase he head out of
the lab and entered the hall. As he went up the steps and turned the
corner he came face to face with a person who was floating in air,
surrounded with a red haze, and a smile that would haunt him for the
rest of his days.
”This is definitely not normal.” He
thought before everything around him went black.
Then he was
no more.
SRK Battle
Poll II:10th place - Edge SRK Battle Poll II: 5th place -
Link
One of the reasons why the '24' threads are too
good...
quote:
Originally posted by Azrael-sama
Not to mention
the Triple P's New Ho is going to get herself into all sorts of
shit. We didn't need to see Spinless Weasel Guy stuffing a gun
into his bag to know that's a trap. You have to hand it to Shin
Sherri, not only would she have recognized this blatantly obvious
set-up, she would have RC'ed it into about 7 different traps of
her own. By the time she was done with that guy, he'd be on
welfare and PREGNANT with HER kids.
Last
edited by ShinkuuR on 04-03-2003 at 08:24 PM
IP: Logged |
| |