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11.2.08 The NaNoWriMo began yesterday everybody! It's time to start writing your novels. A new board has been added temporarily for the use of NaNoWriMo participents. Let's start writing!
10.27.08 Thank you Mouse for notifying Esuora members of the upcoming NaNoWriMo! I personally have never done anything like this event of writing a story of 50,000 words, but I'm very excited to do so. All members please take a look and consider signing up. If you do sign up post your username on the NaNoWriMo thread so that we can all become buddies!
10.21.08 I, Sunrise, leave tomorrow for Ireland so I most likely will not be on very much in the next 10 days. I'm sure you'll all do fine without me though. Make sure to welcome any new members kindly and post some great stuff while I'm gone! (:
Joined: Jan 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 31 Location: Gaming Out Karma: 0
Re: A new project « Result #1 on Apr 27, 2009, 10:35am »
“You know, it’s a real shame. She was really pretty. We should have done more.”
“Enrique, we knocked her out and tied her to a tree to keep her out of the way while we purified her village of the bandit scum. Besides, that was a week ago. Let it go.” Luke sighed, bored at having the same conversation for so long now.
“Yeah, but, she was really cute. We couldn’t have at least felt her up? I mean, seriously, we’re going to be doing this for a while; we can’t have some fun while we’re at it?”
“Enrique. We’re the good guys, not the only slightly better guys. It’s out of the question. No.”
“Besides,” Jessica added the comment, “we’re only doing this until Spirit’s useful again.”
Spirit, walking ahead of them on a crisp, cool forest path in a country far from the one they were in a week before, stiffened slightly. “I am plenty useful already. I’ve told you before I don’t need your help; if I really need to, I can fight myself.”
Luke, Enrique, and Jessica were all quiet for a moment, and then started laughing, making Spirit really annoyed. “Oh, come off it, Spirit!” It was Jessica who spoke first. “You’re useless right now! You can’t even move your left arm anymore, not until you get used to those things being there. You can’t do shit with them there; face it- you need us right now.”
Although Spirit couldn’t see it, he knew exactly what she was referring to: the series of separate chain links now embedded as piercings in his left arm, all the way down in a straight line from the shoulder to the wrist. Because of them, his left arm was now hanging down at his side at all times, as if dead.
Enrique snickered. “Yeah, man. I mean, seriously- I didn’t think you Wraiths were stupid enough to add so much weight at once. What, are you on crack, or just stupid? Each one of those links weighs, what, fifteen pounds? And you’ve got twenty-five of them; that’s three hundred and seventy-five pounds. You don’t even weigh two hundred; not only that, but that thing on your face weighs five hundred, right? With the other shit, too, you’ve been carrying around near nine hundred excess pounds. If it weren’t for your heavy aura powers, you’d not even be able to move right now. Tsch! And you didn’t even add one for poor young Rose, either, man. Prick.”
Spirit stopped dead in the road suddenly, turning around to face the other three, eyes closed. “I don’t have one for Rose because she’s not dead.”
Enrique gave him an amused link. “Effectively, she is.”
Nobody saw Spirit move; suddenly, Enrique was twenty feet back, gasping deep for air, eyes wide, his head having been slammed into the trunk of a tree hard enough to split the tree in two. Spirit’s hand was around his throat, and his eyes were bright, glowing red. “Enrique, I swear to Ishiki, Rose is not dead, and if you ever say that she is again, so help me god, I will tear you apart, limb from fucking limb. Are we clear on that?”
Enrique didn’t answer, but Jessica and Luke were looking at him with bored, unamused eyes. “Spirit, let the poor idiot go. If you kill him, we leave, and while you may not like or want him nearby, you do in fact still need us regardless of whether or not Rose is still alive, and Enrique does have a point. In the type of sleep she’s in, she’s as close to death as you can get without being actually deceased.”
Jessica yawned and continued where Luke left off. “Besides, if you kill him, we kill you or find a way to do it, and rip out each of those damn Penance Markings after you’re dead, and then we’ll crush them into little tiny pieces. Even with your left arm being useful, we can give you trouble, even if in the end we’ll be annihilated; however, without it, you’ve got no chance. Let him up, please.”
It took Spirit several long minutes, but, suddenly, his eyes stopped glowing red and faded down to orange. Letting go of Enrique’s throat, he stepped back, and growled, “I swear to god, Enrique, I don’t like you and am so damn close to killing you right now it ain’t funny. However, I like Luke and Jessica, and since you’re they’re friend, it’d piss them off if I did kill you, so I’ll let you live. However, you seem to have forgotten you’re beneath me, and you have no actual worth or value here; you’re just a tag-along. If you ever piss me off like that again, your life is forfeit; in my eyes, you are nothing more than filthy scum who isn’t even worth being stepped in.” Sprit swirled on one foot, then walked forward until he was next to Luke. “Well?”
Luke shrugged. “I have nothing to say about it this time. He deserved it. When a weasel bites a snake, he has to expect that snake to bit back.”
Spirit almost snarled with fury. “You’re too damn soft, Luke. According to Wraith Law, what I just did requires execution. The reason you failed in your little rebellion escapade is because you were raised far too soft. The reason your society- nay, any society- is flawed is because our ideals are boss. You fail, Luke.”
Jessica snarled and nearly shot forward to smack him. “Spirit! Honestly! What the hell! You’re seriously comparing us to a civilization you were only a part of for five years?”
“Wraith years are longer than yours, so in human years it’d actually be closer to fifteen.”
“I don’t care! You really think you should still be judged by the crappy legal standards of a dead race?”
“Yes. And what was so crappy about it?”
“Well, let’s see, I’d say it was those damn Executioners. Commit a crime, no matter what it was, you die! Theft? Dead. Assault? Dead. Sleep with somebody’s mate? Dead. Lie? Dead. For every little thing, you killed people!”
“In doing so our society had no crime. Also, no criminal ever got away, due to the Executioner talent of reading minds. It was much more flawless and effective than your foolish systems or courts and lawyers.”
“At least we gave people a second chance! You really think somebody should die just because they commit a crime? What crap is that?”
“It was to prevent repeat offenders, and deter those who would otherwise have committed crimes. In essence, only one hundred and eighty-two criminals ever had to be killed by executioners. Out of over three thousand Wraiths made, close to a thousand killed, I would say our crime rate was very low. One hundred and twenty-five of those criminals led a rebellion; subtract that, and you only ever had fifty-seven people out of over three thousand that committed crimes. Less than two percent.”
“I don’t care! That was in the past. So’s your race. Wraiths are dead, and so is their stupid justice system. Get over it; you’re not dying today. From now on, you live by our rules, idiot. Get used to it.”
Spirit turned to face Jessica. “Interesting you feel that way, Jessica Lillyetta. Let me ask you this: do you think somebody should be killed for leading an unjust massacre of a race, killing them off just because they existed to rival yours?”
“Of course!”
“Then kill Luke.”
Jessica paused for a moment. “What?”
“Sins of the fathers pass onto the sons merely because of bloodline traits. Rose said it herself, once- his ancestors destroyed my race simply because they existed. By logical reasoning, because his ancestor is not alive any longer, and as he still shares the same DNA and thus the same judgment of other races, he should die in order to make recompense for the devastation of a race that did no others any harm. Or is that flawed reasoning? Because that’s what your kind thought of mine; one that escaped from us Executioners attacked a god, and thus we all must die for it. Even though we didn’t know the perpetrator was still alive, nor did we have any connection to him, we were all killed for it. Is that just?”
“That isn’t the point, asshole! This isn’t the same situation; just listen and-”
“Hold on. Interesting topic you just brought up. You’re right, it isn’t the same situation. And yet you’re about to yell at me because I don’t see Enrique or any of you as an equal. Don’t try to deny it; I can see it in your mind. But, listen to this first, will you? Although you’ve been sent into exile, you still have others of your race with you, and the main part of race is still alive as well. You had a chance to fight back, too. You’re just merely banned from your home world, which still exists; you’re also not a slave. Your friends were all killed for a just reason.
“Me? My entire race was killed, my homeland turned into a snowy, mountainous wasteland, myself sent into exile in another world as a slave, all my friends killed for no reason whatsoever, and I was alone. For a few over six hundred thousand years. With the threat of death hanging over me. Just over a month back, I had to kill the last remnant of my old life, and the one bit of happiness I’ve found? It’s gone. Tell me, why is that? Why is it you should get to have your friends and your race, your hometown still intact? Why is it you should have your freedom? Hmm? Are you better than me?
“Sahdow certainly thought so; he blamed me for bringing the rest of the survivors from a situation you created into certain death, and yet four of you, and one somewhat- you all survived. You saved countless lives. Me, I only had to take them. Go ahead, be like Sahdow- so ahead and think that you’re better than me. Your race is all-important; your fifteen hundred died fighting for a cause, defending themselves; that makes them more important than the one thousand civilians who died without a fighting chance, without even doing any harm to anything or anybody, unlike you, who led a rebellion; how is it that fifteen hundred men who tried to kill many are better than one thousand peaceful Wraiths who just wanted to be left alone? Go ahead; go to Sahdow; you agree with him, right? We aren’t gods, and thus we’re just poor, stupid animals for the slaughter, just for fun, for your race’s amusement. Personally, I disagree; I believe we are on the same level, but I am the one who’s suffered far more. I told you I was willing to forgive you if you helped me with the clean-up of my world; in exchange, I am giving you freedoms I hadn’t. But that just isn’t enough, is it? You’re better than me, and deserve those freedoms more than I did, right?
“Well, let’s review- I, a Wraith, not a god and therefore a lesser race, saved the life of several gods and goddesses, was sold into slavery at the start of my exile. You, a god, led a rebellion to try and destroy other gods just because you didn’t agree with their ideals, and you deserve to get to go free, no repercussions, at the start of your exile. Bullshit. I think we need to take a break for now- or, at the very least, I need to take a break from you.”
Without even pausing to listen to anything they had to say, suddenly, Spirit was gone, off to who knows where.
Luke sighed, crossed his arms, and looked directly at Enrique. "See, that's why I told you not to mention Rose at the start of this. He's just going to get all moody over it."
Joined: Jan 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 31 Location: Gaming Out Karma: 0
Re: A new project « Result #2 on Apr 23, 2009, 1:10pm »
Because it would take too long in the actual story, here’s the descriptions of the characters. Also, keep in mind that their world is a mix of medieval and modern; they don’t have things like guns or computers but they do have things like modern-day clothes and electricity (in some parts of the world).
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Spirit- Spirit is 5'11" and has bright blond hair, shoulder length, usually brushed and tied back in a ponytail. He has bright yellow banana-colored eyes with cat-slits instead of pupils, and his skin type is Caucasian. He has no hair anywhere on his body other than his hair and his face; his eyebrows are black. He usually wears a loose black t-shirt with the icon of Yin-yang on it, black and white surrounded by grey, and some blue shorts that extend down to his knees, and some sandals he never seems to take off. He's quite skinny and scrawny- only about one hundred and fifty pounds, tops- and has a bright red cloth wristband on his right arm, which he never takes off or moves. Also, he has a large number of piercings all over his body.
For tattoos, around his neck he has a black almost-full circle ring with several triangular patterns around it, looking more like a tribal tattoo than anything else. Also, his entire back is covered with one singular, massive tattoo- an immensely beautiful picture of a cosmos scene with the back as a purple sky, and a black dragon set amongst the stars, of the chinese type. He only has one scar- directly over his heart, where there is no other word for it; he had been stabbed there, quite deeply, at least once in his life. It's old and faded, but there is no mistaking it for anything else.
He seems to have an ungodly amount of piercings and jewelry all over his body. The largest is on his right cheek, where a large black metal reverse pentagram in not only somehow magically attached to the skin, but seems to be bolted into the bone as well. From his left ear dangles a small silver skull with rubies as eyes. He wears three rings, two on his right hand, one on his index finger adorned with a sapphire and on his middle fixed with an emerald, and on his left there's a third set with amethyst. All three rings are made of pure gold; and said to be indestructible, as they're the tools of his summoning arts. He also has a small silver chain bracelet with a sword pendant on his left wrist. Around his neck, he wears a chain of silver with a topaz snake pendant at the end of it. On his left arm, he has small silver hoop rings pierced into the skin in a straight line straight down the arm.
Enrique- His eyes are completely bright red- they look like they’re on fire, inside his head. His hair is reddish-black and loose all over his head, around medium length; he has a bit of similar colored stubble on his chin and pure black eyebrows, but like Spirit has no other hair anywhere on his body. He wears a gold chain necklace with a flame pendant at the en of it; he wears black jeans that end just above his ankles, a plain red shirt, and brown sneakers. Around his waist he wears a green dragon-skin belt, with a red sword sheath on the left side, a rapier in its place, made completely of silver except for a ruby in its hilt. He’s very tan, from working with fire a lot, but has no burns. He looks about eighteen. He can sometimes be quick to anger, and at the moment is only sticking with the group so he can kill things, and because they’re his friends.
Luke- Luke might be called an albino at first glance; he’s the tallest in the group, and six and a half feet, with pale white skin, and always wearing a white business suit- white button up shirt and everything. He has some very fancy white shoes, the only person besides Enrique to actually wear proper footwear, although he doesn’t wear socks. He has two large white angelic wings coming out of his shoulder blades, and both his hair and eyes are pure white. He looks to be around twenty-one, and always somewhat serious and sober. He looks like an angel to most people.
Jessica- her hair is long and green like leaves, down to her waist in a braided ponytail; she is extremely beautiful and has a kind and often innocent-looking face. She goes around barefoot, with a long green skirt and a deep green short-sleeved blouse, with bright green normal-looking eyes. She always seems to have a smile on her apple-colored lips, and always carries a bow slung across her back but never any arrows. She looks like a dryad to most people.
Lilith- Lilith is the same height as Spirit, and quite beautiful, even for a human, like a model; however, she’s never found anybody she likes. She’s always been obsessed with stories of demons; however, in a country of humans, those are far and few between. She has long shoulder-length black hair and ruby-red lips, naturally; she’s quite skinny, and at the start of the story wore a red shirt with white pants and no shoes. Hers is the only outfit that really changes. Also, she has no fighting skills whatsoever.
Joined: Jan 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 31 Location: Gaming Out Karma: 0
A new project « Result #3 on Apr 23, 2009, 10:40am »
Feel free to post comments.
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“Help… help me… please….”
The harsh, hoarse cry of a young girl, maybe nineteen, as she ran through the heavily forested lands along a small dirt path in the human lands of Satyr went, of course, unheard; she was being chased by seven strong men with axes and other such weapons, alone, and nobody was around for at least three miles. She had been speaking instead to the trees, in the futile hopes that a dryad or two might be there, but it was no use: in Moondane, a world full of demons, the country of Satyr was completely demon-free. It only held humans. Of course, she knew where the men who chased her came from; they were the remnants of the large war that had just ended suddenly a month ago; as the days grew on, less and less disturbances occurred. The war itself has consumed the entire planet, and it was for certain that the world would shatter beneath its might, but all of a sudden the two races of demons that had started it had just suddenly disappeared, and then it seemed as though all feelings of violence died out within but a few hours.
The young girl was running because the war had been going on for centuries; people like those chasing her had been raised on violence and it was the only path they knew. They were actually part of a much larger group that was right now attacking her village; she had run, instead of tried to defend it. She was a coward, a worthless, foolish coward, who couldn’t even-
The girl rounded a corner and ran into what at first she thought was a tree; she was knocked senseless for a couple minutes as she fell backwards on her rear in a daze. As soon as she realized what happened, she made a move to get up, but then realized it wasn’t a tree she ran into but instead another person. She was afraid at first, but then noted his completely outlandish clothing, and realized that the person in front of her was not only not a bandit chasing her, but was likely a demon instead. Quite often that was much worse- especially since he had three others with him, a guy with fiery red eyes, a green-haired girl, and an albino youth with white angel’s wings. There was no doubt in her mind that, at the very least, the white one was a demon.
The bandits skidded to a stop behind her, quiet, about twenty feet away as they noted the people standing in front of her; she hadn’t even taken time to get a good look at them, but from her few seconds of a glance, they all wore extremely tattered clothing, had numerous bandages on them, and were positively filthy, as if they’d been traveling in sandstorms and rolling in blood and mud over the past few weeks and hadn’t once taken a bath. They smelled like it, too. However, the girl didn’t dare take a closer look at them; she instead looked down at her bare feet, beneath her white silk pants and bright red shirt; it was disrespectful for a human to look a demon in the eyes, or to get up before given permission.
It seemed like forever, but was likely only about ten minutes, before anybody spoke, but it was the rogue mercenaries behind her that spoke first. “Oi. Demon. That girl belongs to us. Hand her over.”
The one she had run into spoke now; he had a rather honey-sweet accent, one that was definitely not even from this continent. He spoke with both a touch of authority and killing intent embedded in his voice; just by the first syllable alone she could tell he was as deadly as they come. His every word sent ice-cold shivers down her spine, because the voice was just that attractive to her. “I believe you are a bit full of yourselves; you would make demands of one such as I? This isn’t your territory, and the war is over. You are neither our equals or our peers.”
The lead bandit snorted. “Heh. You’re the one who’s full of yourself, you arrogant prick.” The young girl could hear him spit at the demons.
A different voice from the demons spoke now; judging by the irritated, red-hot tone, she assumed it was the one who looked like his eyes were on fire. “Spirit…”
“Easy, Enrique.” The first one spoke again, pronouncing the name En-ree-kay. “I'll handle this.”
“Yah, well, they’re pissin’ me off, so you’d better handle it pretty damn quick.”
The lead bandit laughed. “See, men, this is why demons is just a pack of stupid fools- they can’t even ever get along. Ten coin says they destroy each other.”
The first one, called Spirit, apparently, spoke now, with a lot more venom in his voice than before. “Enrique. Maybe you can help me with this one, then. What do you suggest we do to Russell?”
The bandit leader gave a snort. “My name’s not Russell.”
Enrique’s voice gave what sounded like a cold, cruel chuckle. “It is now, bitch.” Three things then happened instantaneously: was a ringing of steel, as if a blade were being drawn, a quick wind, and suddenly there was a lot of screaming, from several different people, and one person laughing, amidst the rustling of leaves and the sound of many blades slicing through flesh and bone. After a few minutes, it all died back down into silence, and there was a pause before the one called Enrique spoke again, chuckling as he did so, saying, “See? Your name was Russell- guy with no arms, no legs dangling upside down and tied by his parts to a leafy branch.”
“You really shouldn’t do that type of shit with ladies present, Enrique. It’s just not proper.” The speaker this time was a female voice, probably the green-haired girl, and it sounded as beautiful as a chorus of angels.
“Aw, shove it, Jess. I do it all the time; never seemed to bother you before.” There was the sound of metal sliding into metal; Enrique was probably putting his blade away.
“Dumbass. It wasn’t me I was referring to; I’ve done much worse than that myself. If you haven’t noticed, we’ve still got company present.”
“Jessica’s right, Enrique. Calm yourself.” This voice was the last male’s, the white-winged angel’s; it sounded both strict and full of authority, moreso than that of Spirit’s. Like Jessica and Enrique, his voice was beautiful, as if it were that of a god’s.
“Luke.” Spirit spoke this time. “I’m the one in charge. I will handle this. Besides, I gave him the idea, and she didn’t see anything anyway. Enrique, take the bodies away and burn them; Luke, go with him. Jessica, I want you to scan her, see if anything’s wrong. After that, we’ll head for wherever the rogues were from. I do not think they would have come alone.” The young girl could hear a lot of commotion going on around her suddenly, and felt a warm, soft light flood all over her, peaceful, gentle, and it could only be that of a healer’s magic. She had felt some before, but never this strong; also, this one felt like it belonged more to the woods and the earth, rather than to a spellcaster. When all the noise died done, the warm feeling left her.
“She’s all right, Spirit. She’s just exhausted. I’ll start asking the trees for directions; we’ll find out where she came from, and how many assholes are left.” There were footsteps as the green-haired one- probably a dryad- walked off, and the young girl heard the one she had run into- the one she hadn’t gotten a good look at- kneel down in front of her. His hand, surprisingly gentle and rather tingly, as if it were charged with electricity, as he tilted her chin up toward him, to meet his eyes, directly head-on. Most demons only did that if they were planning on killing you later, and she immediately began trembling and trying her best to look away. Finally the hand left her chin, as it was probably now level with the demon’s gaze, and she heard him chuckling.
“You think I’m a demon, don’t you?”
The question surprised her, both because he had to ask and because the tone he asked it in implied he wasn’t. Accidentally, she looked into his eyes, and would have looked away, instantly, when she realized her mistake, if she had not realized his eyes were bright banana yellow, with dark cat-slits in the middle of them.
“Well, technically, you’d be right, but I don’t consider myself one. I’m not going to hurt you, and would prefer it if you stood up. It’s rather annoying, having to bend down like this.”
He stood up, and the young girl, a bit unsure of herself, took a couple seconds before she decided to do the same; then, she went to look up at him, but realized the demon was exactly her height- and she was just under six feet.
He didn’t seem to notice, or even care, and merely asked, “What’s your name?”
“Um… Lilith.” The young girl, Lilith, knew better than to deny a demon the answers to their questions; to do so was death.
“Spawn of Devani. You’re still scared. I told you I’m not going to hurt you; what the hell, girl? Can’t you trust me?” The yellow-eyed man dropped his head, shaking it and sighing. “Honestly! The world is completely mad! People don’t even trust random strangers anymore! Sheesh!”
At that moment, there was a rustling in the trees, and the other three all came back. There was a tower of smoke from the direction they had came, and the smell of burning flesh clung to the white angelic one and the fire-eyed one like glue. It was Enrique, the red-haired one, who spoke first. “Burned the bodies, like you asked; found out where girlie-girl is from, too. There’s a whole mess of jag-offs there, too, just ripe for the kill. Looks like they’re remnants of an army; they’ve got all the peaceful folk rounded up like cattle in the center of the town. Looks like a real redneck, backwoods place, too; real boring, like. Can’t we just skip this one? One or two missed fights every now and again won’t hurt shit.”
The white angel, Luke, smacked Enrique on the back of the head. “Dumbass. The point of cleaning up the backlash warriors from the war is to bring peace to the world. It’s not supposed to be fun; it’s supposed to be work. Get your head in the game, and let’s go. We have to kill them all, or innocents are going to keep getting hurt. We made that clear to you when you chose to stick with us; if you didn’t want to help, you should have gone with Sahdow.” Luke and the green-haired dryad girl, Jessica, turned down the path Lilith had come from, and began walking. Enrique rubbed the back of his head, sighed, and started after them. Lilith then turned to Spirit, to see what he would do, and all of a sudden felt a fist collide with her stomach; she saw black, passing out, and the last words she heard were two people in the distance doubling over with laughter and Jessica yelling, "Sprit! What the shit! You're not supposed to hit girls!"
Joined: Jan 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 31 Location: Gaming Out Karma: 0
Re: Second Story « Result #4 on Apr 20, 2009, 10:32am »
It was the largest banquet hall in all the city, it up like a lighthouse in a storm, with banners, bright lights, and a feast to put the gods to shame. Of course, as this was the world of the gods, it was doing its job quite well. The entire place was filled; a black tie event with about thirteen hundred guests present excluding their servants, at the top of the stairs leading to the entryway, the guest of honor finally arrived. She was tall; maybe nineteen, with tan, luxurious skin, wearing a dress of the finest silks, blue in color, draped about her body like a covering of a masterpiece. It was clear she was quite beautiful; she had a long, twitching black tail coming out of the back, through a little hole cut just specifically for it, and it was swishing back and forth nervously. She had some very luscious and glossy black hair tied back in a ponytail that went down halfway to her back, with two cat ears twitching out atop of her head. Her eyes were bright yellow, cat slits, as she watched the large crowd below. She wore just some very simple sandals, and had six fingers and toes on each foot. Her face looked very young; although she was clearly at least nineteen, she was also still quite naïve, and extremely beautiful. Gracefully, her body swaying from side to side, she walked down the steps, dissatisfaction on her face, she walked down to mingle among the people below. Her name was Rose-Lynn, and tonight, she became the official goddess Ishiki, as her mother had died three months before, and the approval had just been given by the council for her ascension.
She was wandering aimlessly through the crowd, not really paying attention to anything, when suddenly she came to a clearing in the crowd, at the center of which was Glaive Zefaq, she saw, head of the defense for the world of the Gods. Next to him was his one servant that followed him wherever he went; Rose-Lynn had never seen the servant’s face, or anything about them; they always wore a floor-length black cloak with a hood covering the head, with a turtleneck covering the flesh of the neck and a pure white face mask beneath, with two eyeholes. Whoever it was, apparently, did not need to breathe. It was because of the hooded one, the nameless assassin, that never left Glaive’s side that all the other gods and goddesses always gave him a large bit of personal space. Quite simply, they were terrified of it.
Rose-Lynn walked right up to Glaive. As always, he was dressed in an immaculate all-white business suit, white straight down to the fancy shoes he wore. His hair was pure white, his skin type was Caucasian, and his eyes themselves were pure white, not even irises or pupils. He also had two large angel’s wings on his back. He nodded in her direction when she walked up, holding a wine glass with (what else?) white wine inside of it. “Good evening, Miss Ishiki. I was truly sorry when I heard about your mother; she was a great woman. Until you get on your feet and everything organized, my men will be glad to help out anywhere you need it. Also, please allow me to be the first to personally welcome you to the official status of being a goddess. Pity, though, that all but one of the Wraiths are extinct.”
Rose-Lynn raised an eyebrow. “My realm is not exclusive to the Wraiths alone, and I heard that they were all dead.”
Glaive tilted his head one in the direction of the hooded one. “He’s the last one. Been a servant of my family for close to six hundred thousand years now, and through several generations, long before I was born. He’s a mute, though- lost his vocals when we rescued your ancestor, we think. Hasn’t spoken a word since, or aged a day.”
Rose-Lynn stared at him in shock. “You keep a Wraith that close to you? Without anybody to stop him if he decided to kill you? That’s just stupid; I mean, it was your ancestor that wiped out the rest of his race. Don’t you think he’d be a bit pissed at that?”
Glaive hesitated for a moment. “This Wraith- think his name’s Spirit- he’s a mute. He can’t say a word. He wears a reverse pentagram- the sign of evil- on one of his cheeks. When he’s not on duty, he’s training his body physically in as many ways as possible. He’s stronger than me, and is as bloodthirsty as they come. He always looks at me as if I’m nothing more than a worm beneath his feet. If he wanted to, he could kill everybody in this room within the next few seconds, with just one single, solitary attack sequence. Nobody can hear, smell, or even sense him, no matter how heavy he walks- essentially, it’s like he doesn’t exist, and then all of a sudden he’ll be right next to you.
“However, in all the years my family has owned him, he’s never raised a finger against another person unless we asked him to. He’s been dead loyal, and keeps our secrets well- obviously. If I were suddenly in a situation where I was about to be assassinated, with me powerless, this is the one and only man I would want there- nay the only man that I could trust- to watch my back for me. He’s been there for my father, my grandfather, my great-grandfather, and all the generations before that. He taught me everything I know about fighting, and was the biggest figure I can remember involved in my upbringing. He’s the best damn man I have on my task force, and while he scares the crap out of everybody else- he’s been doing assassinations for my family for years; he‘s an effing invincible juggernaut- trust him with more than my life. In time, my son, Luke, will be his new master, too; my only worry is that Luke doesn’t trust him worth an inch.
“Now, come, come; I’ve kept you too long. The other guests will be wanting to congratulate you as well. Besides, I have some pressing matters to attend to. It seems a rebellious movement is starting to form in our city, an army plotting to destroy our utopia. It‘s my job to stop them.” He snapped his fingers. “Wraith. Time to go.” Glaive called over a waiter and set his glass down, and then began to walk away.
The Wraith, however, hovered for a moment, near Rose-Lynn, apparently looking at her from beneath the hood and the mask. Rose-Lynn couldn’t be sure, but, at that moment, she thought she heard him say, in a voice too quiet for any but her own ears, “My loyalties are only to the Ishiki family. I look forward to the day I can serve them again, my goddess.” Then, suddenly, without a word, the Wraith was gone, right behind Glaive, leaving the building.
Joined: Jan 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 31 Location: Gaming Out Karma: 0
Re: Second Story « Result #5 on Apr 20, 2009, 10:31am »
Mature 18+ Only Please!
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Spirit cracked his knuckles and his eyes were no longer just yellow, they were glowing bright yellow. Lightning crackled in the air all around him; anybody nearby would be able to tell he was incredibly powerful.
Rose-Lynn sat in a sort of frog-like crouch, her tail twitching behind her at a medium pace, and the air around her rose to levels so intense even a salamander would be fried.
At that time, two of a sort of illusion appeared behind the two combatants, on a spiritual level; only they could have seen them and recognized them for what they were. The illusions were of a giant red tiger, with flaming stripes and glowing red eyes, snarling, crouched to spring as it hid behind Rose-Lynn; the other, behind Spirit, was a giant snakelike Chinese dragon, with four claws ready to rip and tear, glowing yellow eyes and lightning constantly crackling all around it, watching the tiger with baited breath and waiting for the strike.
In all the world, in all the dimensions, the rarest and most profound magical experience one can have is that their aura physically embodies itself into your spiritual animal; to see both the combatant and the spiritual form of their energy is an even more rare sight, and for those who have seen it, all but three have been killed. For the release into a visual state, it means that a magical warrior must be in a near godlike power state, and that they are about to utterly, utterly destroy you. It is not known what would happen should two who have reached this level fight, but it is assumed to be the end of the world.
Suddenly, the spiritual forms disappeared; they could only stay visual as long as their owners remained as still as statues. Rose-Lynn and Spirit shot toward each other; they stopped about a foot away from each other, backing up, and each shot something at the other, one a lightning bolt and the other a fireball. Springing backward, both attacks missed, and both brawlers landed on all fours watching each other like feral beasts fighting for survival. Up above, their spiritual forms appeared again, mimicking their movements; neither noticed. The spiritual forms would stay visible now, mimicking their every movement for the rest of the battle.
Spirit grinned. “I think we’re a bit too good for the beginner’s level tricks, don’t you?”
Rose-Lynn just gave a little chuckle. “I’ll start acting proper whenever you do.”
Spirit just nodded and grinned as suddenly he made a whip of lightning and cracked it at her. Rose-Lynn shot up a wall of fire that blocked the whip, and suddenly a tentacle made of sand shot up and wrapped itself around the lightning whip, destroying it. Spirit laughed. “I see. So we both control multiple elements, then. Let’s see what they can do.”
Spirit drew his hands together, and suddenly a green light appeared, shooting down into the sand; seconds later, a large fruit orchard appeared, filled with grapes, apples, oranges, cherries, and much, much more; the sand was still sand beneath their feet. There were also a great many vines and such; shadows were everywhere amongst the new forest grounds, and there was even a small pond in one area. Effectively, a full-on indoor tropical forest.
Rose-Lynn giggled. “Awww, how sweet! You shouldn’t have! All these scratching posts- I’ll never go through them all!” Giggling again, she and Spirit shot backward and hid themselves among the trees, for what was to be a round of sniping and minor brawls.
Rose-Lynn was leaping around the tree branches for a while, trying to sense Spirit, when all of a sudden he barreled out of the trees and smacked into her; biting and scratching at each other, they rolled down and hit the sandy floor; jumping apart, both Rose-Lynn and Spirit had lost parts of their clothing again. It was all too obvious- in a fight like this, it was bound to happen a lot. Rose-Lynn was only missing a sleeve; Spirit’s entire shirt was scattered around on the ground in tatters.
On the ground, they shot toward each other; Rose-Lynn attempted to scratch Spirit with flaming claws; she missed, and Spirit chucked a small grape at her, which caught and stuck to her left arm sleeve. Dismissing it as nothing, she turned around and attempted to charge toward him again, but he snapped his fingers, and suddenly the grape exploded, knocking her to the ground and splattering her with sticky purple juice. Spirit chuckled and vanished into the woods again; Rose-Lynn tried to get up but found out the juice was working as an adhesive. Luckily, at the moment, the only part of her that was stuck was her shirt, which she guessed was the reason for Spirit chuckling. Sighing, she tore her shirt off and jumped off into the woods to try and go after him- or tried to, anyway; as soon as she was free, a vine shot out of the trees and wrapped itself around her ankle, dangling her upside down. Hissing, another tentacle of sand shot out from the ground and sliced it in half, freeing Rose-Lynn as she shot off into the forest after Spirit.
Spirit, meanwhile, was dashing quickly away when suddenly large, razor-sharp pillars of earth began to shoot up from under the sand, and Spirit easily evaded these by jumping from side to side across them, in a zigzag pattern. Suddenly, however, they started blasting random bouts of fire at him, and, not watching where he was going, got hit by one; luckily, it only merely singed him, not much else. In a matter of seconds he was next to the lake, where he dove in and dived under.
Rose-Lynn appeared but a few seconds later, missing her shirt, and saw Spirit thumbing his nose at her from the center of the lake. Above her head she made a massive fireball, and hit the lake with it; the entire lake evaporated into mist, and she shot in, tackling Spirit, and while they couldn’t be seen in the mist, the tiger and the dragon illusions above them were wrestling in such a way that would have made even the gods stop and pay attention in pure awe of how intense their power was. From within the mist there were a great number of loud sounds, not excluding the sounds of hissing, tearing, ripping, and the splattering of what was likely blood.
After about seven minutes, the mist finally cleared, and Rose-Lynn and Spirit were both standing a bit apart from each other, their clothes all shredded off and not even caring; they knew by this time it was pretty much pointless to reform them, as they would just get shredded again. Both had taken a few scratches and such, but nothing serious.
Spirit started laughing. “Well, I’m thinking it’s obvious by now: we’re too evenly matched physically, and we’re far too reluctant to use our long-range techniques. So why don’t we settle this by a race?”
Rose-Lynn paused. “A race? Seriously?”
Spirit nodded, snickering. “Of course. To the other side of the arena. Ready? Go!”
Like a rocket, both combatants were off, racing to the other side, whipping through the trees like they weren’t even there. Both looked over at the other occasionally while watching the road ahead; both couldn’t help but like what they were seeing. Finally, they stopped, on the other side, reaching it at exactly the same time, where Spirit was the first to speak. “Well, I guess there’s no winner, then, right?”
Rose-Lynn frowned. “Wait. That doesn’t sound right.” She was suddenly standing only a couple inches away from him. “There should always be a winner. So why don’t we make it both of us?” Grinning, she and Spirit looked deep into each other’s eyes, full of both lust and love, drawing closer, enough to see their breath rushing across the other’s skin, nuzzling each other, their lips starting to touch….
And then the moment was ruined.
At that moment, a fuzzy screen appeared next to them of the bloody-looking body of Lord Shadow. “Spirit! They’ve come for her- Ishiki! They’re killing-” the screen suddenly went blank, with both Spirit and Rose-Lynn staring at where it had been a second before.
(This is just a side-note, to explain what happened: on that day, all but one Wraith was killed as an army of gods descended to Moondane to rescue Rose-Lynn Ishiki, goddess of the soul; the one that was saved was saved by her personal request, and brought to the world of the gods. However, he was sold into slavery, and they never saw each other again. Years later, however, Spirit met one of her descendants, and soon returned to the dimension of Moondane.)
Joined: Jan 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 31 Location: Gaming Out Karma: 0
Re: Second Story « Result #6 on Apr 20, 2009, 10:30am »
Mature 18+ Only Please!
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Rose-Lynn, still in her satin pajamas of a pink top and white pants, apparently nothing else, and Spirit, wearing little more than a black t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, were challenging each other in a glare. They were circling each other, upon a large pit of sand; Rose-Lynn was grinning, but Spirit was all serious.
Spirit was the first to move; like a rocket, suddenly he darted forward, getting ready to slam a fist into her; she was doing the same, however, and their fists collided with each other. The sound if the impact send a rumble throughout the city, and it was heard everywhere in Rusalka, people suddenly scared to death, immediately jumping up and getting ready to fight. It sounded like an invading army’s cannons. In the meantime, both Spirit and Rose-Lynn had been shot backwards, crouching, ripping deep holes in the sand as they slammed their palms onto it to try and steady themselves. As soon as they were steady, they dashed forward and tried it again; both were far too fast for even a powerful demon’s eye to see.
There were everywhere and anywhere; a swipe could be seen now and again as Spirit appeared behind Rose-Lynn… she was leaping down at him from above… she had been repelled backward by a kick, and now Spirit had jumped up, propelling himself forward, floating next to her…. Spirit was suddenly slammed into the sand, and Rose-Lynn atop him, her cat claws stabbed through his stomach… he was free, and they were charging at each other again, Rose-Lynn’s shirt torn to shreds and one leg of Spirit’s jeans completely gone, with shreds of it all over the arena, with blood running down his torso from the open wound in his chest….
At this point they started accelerating toward each other, and were going too fast to track any movements. They were just two blurs, dashing all across the sand, slamming into each other, with a bit of blood spurting out every now and again, retreating after a thunderous collision, scaring everybody within the city, which, for this fight, was hearing distance.
Suddenly, they paused, gasping, standing ten feet away from each other. Spirit’s shirt was still on, in shreds, and his jeans were of the same condition. He had numerous scratches and slashes all over his body, but so far had only one real hole in his body, through his chest. Rose-Lynn had taken a few scratches and slashes herself, but had proven extremely flexible, enough to the point where she was dodging most of the blows, although her clothes had suffered- she looked like she was just wearing a tattered pair of white shorts and a very short pink cutoff top, now, barely intact at all. Both of them were grinning.
“Most fine I’ve had in years.” Spirit grinned at Rose-Lynn. “Don’t tell me it’s over already?”
She grinned right back at him. “Not even close, ghost boy; you better prepare yourself. I might just turn out to be too hot for you to handle.” She snickered, and her eyes flickered to the stairwell one second before she started running- the other way. Spirit wasn’t fooled for an instant; he was off, keeping pace with here; they were absolutely neck and neck. Not only that, but they were going so fast, they were literally, physically, running up the walls, side by side, crashing through the staircase without even feeling or noticing, as they were going so fast, completing seven rotations of the circular building per second. They were altogether too focused on each other, watching the other, trying to outrun the other….
They were running for seven minutes before Rose-Lynn suddenly darted sideways, ramming her shoulder into Spirit’s and knocking them both down to the sandy pit, where they rolled into two separate heaps, both on all fours like feral dogs, backs arched, watching other with deep intensity, before charging each other again. This time, however, they didn’t knock each other back; it was like two wild cats fighting, in speed too fast for anybody to catch, cutting, slashing, hitting, wrestling each other like mad, not stopping for even a second. If it was to be visualized in the spiritual realm, imagine a tigress and a dragon locked into a struggle, fighting like hell, each just trying to do more damage to the other than they were getting, neither caring too much about protecting themselves. No; self-preservation was a moot point; here, it was just a release of anger, a release of frustration, a desire to just fly free and wild, a desire to just hurt the other, possibly even maim them, and if they were extremely lucky, kill. This was a pure, straight-out brawl; there were no rules, and even if there had been, they would have been forgotten a long time ago.
Finally, the two combatants stopped; Rose-Lynn was sitting on top of Spirit’s chest, and he was laying sprawled out on the ground in a star shape. Both had numerous cuts, scratches, bruises, and injuries; they also each had several holes in them or even large chucks ripped out of them. Snickering, they both suddenly did their own regeneration techniques; both were now clean as a whistle, in the same position, staring at each other while catching their breath, not even a single bruise or drop of blood on either of them. It was like they had never fought. They stared at each other, not daring to move, for three minutes before they realized that neither was wearing anything anymore.
Rose-Lynn slapped Spirit. He slapped her back. She slapped him again, and then they had a slap-fest for a couple minutes before Spirit suddenly grabbed her hands and pinned them to her sides. “Stop it!”
“Well, you’re indecent!”
“So are you!”
“That’s because an asshole shredded my clothes. What’s your excuse?”
“Pretty much the same.”
Rose-Lynn threw her head back and laughed, then sprang back suddenly, crouching a few feet away, tail swishing back and forth behind her, while he got to his feet, dusting himself off. She grinned, stood up, and snapped her fingers; a pink light surrounded both of them for a moment, and while the scraps of their original clothes were still scattered all around, they were both dressed again: Rose-Lynn in a new pair of her pink and white satin pajamas, and Spirit once more in a black t-shirt and jeans. She grinned at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself, you know- exposing yourself to a goddess. You’re going to hell for that.”
Spirit laughed. “Sorry, but, I’m already there.”
She laughed, and said, “Yeah, well, hell isn’t hell unless it’s hot, and then it’s just fun.”
Spirit paused for a moment. “No, that’s only true about sins.”
“And you know what the most fun sin is said to be?”
Spirit suddenly froze, and then looked up. “Oh my god.”
Rose-Lynn gave him a confused look. “What?”
“You’re a pervert.”
Rose-Lynn frowned. “Wait. So just because I’m a goddess, I can’t be a pervert, too? I am still a girl, you know. I still like guys.”
“Yes, but I figured you more as either a prude or, at most, a necronymphopheliac. I didn’t realize you like living guys. I thought that was why you were so grumpy, actually.”
Rose-Lynn opened her mouth to make a comment, but then Spirit suddenly burst out laughing, shouting, “joking!”- and then she started laughing, too. “Of course. Perverts, right? Takes one to know one.” She snickered, then stopped laughing. “So, are we going to finish this or not? I wanna have some more fun, Spirit- make me hot!” She and Spirit both snorted with laughter.
Spirit finally stopped first. “Sure, sure, but I think you should get some more protection. It’s going to be rough.” He grinned, and they both doubled over again. When they were finally able to stop laughing, both faced each other. “So, I’m assuming that speed is pointless in this battle? We’re obviously both evenly matched in that area.”
Rose-Lynn nodded. “Definitely. I think it’s advanced beyond just getting physical now; it’s time to take this to a spiritual level, too.” She raised an eyebrow, and both of them doubled over laughing one more time before they readied themselves for the second part of the battle.
Name: Shadows of Past and Future URL: http://roadslesstraveled.proboards.com/ Difficulty: intermediate, I suppose. We want to try to be a literate rp. Open since: 14 April 2009 Races allowed: preferrably mostly humans and demons, but also shapeshifters, fairies, and angels. You can come up with other races, too, like werewolves and dragons, if you follow the rules and are smart enough to do it right. Technology: some is allowed. Site rating: while we would like to keep it as pg-13 as possible, it's going to be R. Type of site: magical fantasy original Guest-friendly advertising: most definately.
Nearly sixteen billion years ago, a massive war betwen the two penultimate races, the Creation and the Void, nearly annihilated all of existence. The entire planet had been consumed by war, and many races and species were completely wiped out. In the final hours of the war, a hero sent by the gods known only as Azarael appeared with a small group of powerful warriors appeared and, at the cost of their lives, set forth and brought peace to Mondane, banishing the Creation and the Vod forever into the depths of the unknown. The hero Azarael knew that this peace could not last and with his last breath declared that one day he would be reborn, and when that days comes, true peace will come to the planet. Thus being said, he sent forward into the timestream of the future five seals that would protect both forever against the return of the Creation and the Void, and that would symbolize his return unto the world.
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Since the death of the hero Azarael, Moondane has always had wars and skirmishes going on all over the planet; only five years ago, the greatest threat to the magical world of Moondane to ever occur has appeared. Human demon slayers, from another dimension of existence, have invaded into this one, and have spread out all over the planet, seeking to annihilate all of demonkind in the word, to, as they say, "prevent the spread of further wars by killing off the source of hatred". They believe that by killing off the demons, the constant wars will stop, and peace will come to the world. The demons and other creatures nonhuman were hit hard and fast, and thus their numbers were heavily decimated. The invaders have brought with them new, never-before-seen technologies and methods, some of them even with magical abilities themselves, to the art of demon slaying, and even some power-hungry demons are killing off their own kind. The demons, warlike by nature, have not been able to organize themselves well enough to stop fighting long enough to mount a resistance; it truly looks as if the end is nigh.
Over the past couple of weeks, odd things have started occurring, things that will draw heavy attention even in a world of magic and demons. The scholars are running frightened; the faithful believe that the hero Azarael is finally returning to the world, to annihilate the invaders and to restore peace to the planet of Moondane. Thus, the attention of the entire world has now turned to the most magical place on earth, Passou Island, where the Hero Azarael was said to have first appeared, and to have died, both in anticipation and fear.
Among the humans and demons, everybody is being forced to make a choice on where they desire to stand. Some seek to help alog the annihilation of demons, in hopes of eliminating the warlike nature that seems to be behind the start of every war. Others aim to try and find the hero Azarael, supporting him in a way that will help both humans and demons find peace. There are several traveling around the world as healers, to bring a light to as many lives as they can in these dark times. More choose to merely go their own way, watching the world burn as they seek power. Only a few care nothing for the current events of the world, still trying to avoid the war consuming the planet. What will you do?
Joined: Jan 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 31 Location: Gaming Out Karma: 0
Re: Second Story « Result #8 on Apr 9, 2009, 9:35am »
Ishiki grinned as she looked him over; she seemed to be seeing something Spirit didn’t. Finally, she said, “I know what I want!” Her grin grew wider. “I want to see what you look like.” She reached for the hemline of his jeans….
Suddenly, Spirit’s hand shot up and slapped away her wrist, surprising her. Spirit was suddenly on his feet, looking down at her, arms crossed. “It only takes a few minutes for me to get used to a lessening of weight, Ishiki. I’m back to normal, now. I can’t allow you to do what you were about to do. In the first, you’re a goddess and I’m a Wraith. It would never work. In the second, my biological age is twenty-one, and yours is nineteen. I don’t know how old you actually are, but I’m only twenty-six. Since you were around before the Wraiths were, that makes you way, way too old for me. And third, I’m guessing whatever you were drinking makes you more immature. Go to bed in your own room, Ishiki.” This was the first time Spirit had both ever considered that there might be something amiss with her being the Goddess.
Ishiki, instead, suddenly crossed her arms and sat down cross-legged, looking really upset, shouting in a rather angry whine, “IT’S NOT ISHIKI! ROSE-LYNN! ROSE-LYNN! ROSE-LYNN! SAY IT RIGHT!”
Spirit raised an eyebrow. “Wait. So, your first name is Rose?”
Ishiki, or rather, Rose-Lynn, punched the floor. “NO! Rose-LYNN! Two words, one dash, one name!”
Spirit nodded. “Yeah, well, whatever. We’ll talk about it when you’re sober. Go to bed.”
In the next second, Spirit was knocked backward by a low punch to the gut, his door was open, and Rose-Lynn was out in the hallway thumbing her nose at him, saying, “Nyah, nyah, nyah! Can’t catch me!” Then, grinning, she raced off, with the words, “You have permission!”
Spirit could only interpret that one way: he was allowed to use his powers outside of his room. He was off like a rocket, out the door; the hallway around the center lobby floor, down below, was a spiraling staircase all along the walls; down below, the floor was covered by a thick layer of sand, enough to bury the first two floors. Rose-Lynn was laughing, racing down the stairs; Spirit raced off to catch up to her. She got to the sandy floor and raced across to the other side before turning and facing him as suddenly he stopped, ten feet away from her, his hands in fists and glaring daggers, immediately sensing what she was planning by the way she was looking at him. “It’s time to behave, Rose-Lynn. Go back to your room; you’re not technically drunk, so to speak, but your judgment is still impaired. Sleep it off, and we can have it out in the morning.”
Rose-Lynn shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Nope. No way.” She gave him a rather alluring look. “Besides, what are you scared of? I wanna see just how fast you can go; I wanna see you move.” Giggling, she suddenly darted off like a rocket toward him; Spirit sidestepped her, and then charged after her.
So, uhm. I like to draw. In fact I draw every day and night of my life, unless I'm going through an artistic depression. (Artistic depression= Period of time when an artist has zero inspiration or motivation.) So I thought I could show you some of my stuff in a random thread! Warning:most all of these are from video games. P.S. My scanner sucks and doesn't pick up shading very well. But these pictures are shaded. P.S.S. The first few aren't very good, but as the number gets higher, the pictures get better. :]
Joined: Jan 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 31 Location: Gaming Out Karma: 0
Re: Second Story « Result #10 on Apr 8, 2009, 1:06pm »
Spirit sighed as he drank his odd purple drink and sat in silence across from Ishiki. She had quickly changed her clothes, and was now wearing a skintight sky blue top, without straps, as if it had been put into creation around her body; as if she had imagined herself wearing it, and instantly it had occurred. Of course, who’s to say that didn’t happen? She was a goddess, after all. Regardless, it was short, and a lot of her belly was exposed as well. She also wore a tight black miniskirt, leather, of course, and fishnet stockings with small black boots. Her tail was poking out through a small hole in her miniskirt; she was drinking much, much stronger stuff than he was.
The light was dim, and constantly switching colors; there were a lot of people- of witnesses- here, in this nightclub; Spirit’s connection with the city had gotten them there almost instantly. Ishiki also wore a small golden necklace around her neck, with an ember cat’s eye pendant at the end of it.
Spirit was rather annoyed at her; immediately upon entering, she had begun flirting with a large number of people. More than once, he was forced to beat somebody down because they touched Ishiki‘s arm or shoulder. That was her request before they left; nobody was to touch her. Several people had already been carted away to the hospital; Spirit liked this job. It was a good stress reliever. Especially when he imagined it was Ishiki he was pummeling.
They had been here for three hours now; he had been wary of three demons that had been watching them since they came in. They finally approached the table now, their apparent leader grinning like a jackal. “Hey, babes,” he said to Ishiki, “How you doin’?”
Spirit stared at them like they were stupid. He turned to Ishiki and commented, “Great. See what you’ve done? All the intelligent ones are gone now; we’re just getting the dumbasses now.”
The apparent leader, who Spirit decided to refer to as Jackal, turned his attention to Spirit, giving him a dark glare. “Yah, who asked you, blondie?”
Spirit shot Jackal a dark look. He had just an average-looking human form, same with his bodyguards. “Well, since you didn’t specify a name, then obviously you.”
Ishiki gave a chuckle. “So, Spirit what are you waiting for? Get rid of hi-” suddenly she froze; Jackal had taken the moment of distraction to start feeling her up.
“Hmm…. Not bad, beauty; why not come with us?”
Spirit’s eyes narrowed, and he rose from his seat, glaring at Jackal. “Nice, buddy. You now have a death sentence on your head.”
Jackal moved away from Ishiki, who was looking enraged with shock, and grinned at Spirit. “Oh, yeah? And I suppose you’re the one going to ki-” he didn’t finish that sentence. Suddenly, his body was burning, as was that of his associates. In seconds, he was no more than a pile of ashes, and Ishiki was glaring down at it with a smoking palm. “Nobody touches me in my feminine parts. Ever.” She looked up at Spirit, crossly. “That goes for you, too, Wraith.” She then smirked, in a seemingly good mood. “However… one thing that doesn’t mean is I can’t touch you.” She grinned and moved to sit up, and suddenly both she and Spirit vanished from the club. It took a second, but she realized she had been thrown roughly down on Spirit’s couch, and he stood over her, his arms crossed, his face a mask of annoyance.
“Your behavior tonight was deplorable, Ishiki. You even killed somebody. I’ve placed an additional barrier on the building. Now, you can’t leave. Not without my permission.”
Ishiki stood up shakily, looking curious. “Interesting. That was quite a speedy getaway. I didn’t know you could move so fast.”
“I am the fastest of all Wraiths. It’s my speed that earned me the title of Seventh Position Executioner. In all other areas, I am quite unqualified. Just your luck to get stuck with the one who can easily counter whatever you might try to pull, and the only one who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on.”
Ishiki gave him a coy smile. “Oh? Don’t you?”
“No. I don’t.” There was such a steely tone in his voice that it quite effectively ended that topic.
Ishiki looked thoughtful for a moment. “Hmmm… interesting, though… so, you’re really the fastest Wraith, then? I suppose it’s because you’re speed-based, but since you don’t know what that means, or so you claim, let’s just call it enhanced speed for now.”
“Whatever you call it, it is what it is.”
“Indeed it is.” Ishiki gave a sly smile, and suddenly she seemed to disappear, but then Spirit realized she was sitting cross-legged on his bed, her fishnet stockings and boots off. From where he was, he could easily see she was wearing only the blue top and skirt. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t; instead, his face just turned beet-red as he looked away. This made her laugh. “Aw… you’re a prude. Isn’t that interesting? Or is it just because you think it indecent for a goddess to do whatever she wants?”
“That’s-" Spirit paused, sighing. "Why don’t you wear the proper clothing you’re supposed to wear? As a girl, so you can quit making me uncomfortable to be around you?”
“That depends. Why do you wear a five-hundred-pound Penance Marking that is also spelled to cause you continuous and never-ending pain when you’ve neither ever killed anybody, and the only requirement is that it’s five pounds?”
Spirit could hear her stand up on the other side of the bed, so he could look again. He turned to her, a confused expression on his face. “Wait. I’ve killed somebody. And why do you think I’ve never killed anybody, anyways?”
Ishiki grinned. “I was wondering when you were going to ask that. You’re a Wraith, following my religion. I can see your entire existence as a Wraith, including the ritual in which you got your name. Trust me. You’ve never killed anybody.”
Spirit was silent for a moment. “Which one?”
“What do you mean, which one?” Ishiki looked confused for a moment.
“Which ritual? I went through two Awakening rituals in my path to become a Wraith.”
Ishiki shook her head. “No you haven’t. You’ve only had one. Trust me, Spirit- if you’d have more than one, unless something went horribly wrong and the ritual was interrupted, I can see your entire life as a Wraith.”
Spirit didn’t say anything for a moment. “I see.”
Ishiki grinned. “Yup, so, there’s no need to lie to me. I know.” Suddenly, she was over next to Spirit, his six fingers on his reverse pentagram on his cheek, pulling at it. There were sparks flying between the side that had been attached to his cheek and his actual cheek, and he was shouting in pain as Ishiki struggled to pull it off. Finally, after a minute, Ishiki managed to pull it past the connection circuits between the cheek and the icon, and both Ishiki and Spirit flew apart, both hitting one of the two couches and rolling over it to land on the other side.
Ishiki was the first one to stand up; she bounced up almost instantly, twirling the Penance Marking on a finger, grinning. “Wow. I’ve never seen anybody who’s actually had their Marking magnetized to their skin before. I bet that had to hurt.”
Spirit hoisted himself up, clinging to the back of the couch, his newly freed cheek bright red, glaring at Ishiki. “Give it back.”
She shook her head. “Nope; you’ve worn it for over five years, without even needing to. I’m hanging onto this, and you’re not getting it back until I actually say so.” Grinning, she suddenly disappeared, having run into her room, dropping it off, before coming back in. Spirit was still holding himself up on the back of the couch, glaring at her. She gave him an odd look. “Wow. I thought you’d at least try to stop me. You must be really, really tired. Come on; stand up; time for bed for you, then.”
Spirit shook his head. “No. I’m not moving until you bring it back.”
Ishiki stamped her foot. “I said move, young man!”
Spirit paused for a moment. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”
Ishiki grinned. “So what if I am a little? I want you in your bed- now, young man! Now, get up and walk, or I’ll report you!”
Spirit sighed quite heavily; as much as he wanted to disobey her, he didn’t dare risk Lord Shadow finding out about the events of the night. Using the couch to push himself up, as soon as he let go, he fell over.
Ishiki looked at him quite surprised. “Wha-”
Spirit tried to get up off the ground again. Once again, upon standing up, he fell over, and then he just lay there. “Screw it. I’ll sleep here.”
Ishiki grinned. “I get it now.”
Spirit closed his eyes in frustration. “Crap.”
Ishiki went and stood next to him, crouching down, making sure he could see her as she wagged one finger back and forth. “Ha ha ha ha-ha. You can’t stand up-up. You’re completely help-less.” Her grin grew wider. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’ve been wearing that thing so long your balance is out of whack, and you can’t do anything until you get it back, can you?”
Spirit glared at her. “And so what if I can’t?”
Ishiki disappeared for a moment, then Spirit heard her door close and lock. He breathed a sigh, thinking she had gone back to her own room, when suddenly she appeared right in front of him again in her pajamas, her face really close to his, she still obviously a bit drunk. “I think I might just play with you a little tonight. I mean, without your balance, you’re just an overstuffed doll, right? This calls for a slumber party- a really, really fun slumber party!”
And that’s when Spirit realized he was in hell- trapped, unable to move, and in the hands of a female goddess who currently had all the maturity of a young girl.
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