by Ridder » October 7th, 2010, 5:10 pm
Yo dawg, just thought you should know, MIC brought in the defibrillators and the sharpie pen.
Look out, this sheot just got itself rewrote.
Inside the living room of Don Giovanni are two chairs with their backs to a lit fireplace. In one of these chairs sits a man. He initially rocks back and forth peacefully, but his attention is suddenly drawn to something. However, no noise was made.
The man is of middle age, with a robe of colors wine red and dark black and the letters "A.R." monogrammed in large golden letters on the upper right region of the robe.
The man rests back in his chair and takes a pipe out of his pocket. He has a little smoke. Suddenly he speaks as if someone else was in the room.
"Ah, so the brazen little rabblerouser has come to my domain, has he? I suppose you've come here for something, yes? Well, before we do anything else, I have the oddest little itch to tell, a story, if that's alright with you."
Nothing happens, but the man nods anyway and puts away his pipe.
"Ah yes, of course, well then," the man says as he gets up from his chair and shuffles over to a bookcase nearby. He fingers around and looks up and down until he taps one book and says, "Alright, I believe this is it." Taking the book in one arm, he goes and sits back down in his comfortable chair. The middle aged man opens up the book and starts flipping around, as if he was choosing from a selection of multiple stories.
The man stops at a page and studies it. "Hmmmm............"
Perhaps a Warm Up?
You have heard stories that start out with a hero fighting an epic battle, or a villain claiming some lost treasure that undoubtedly leads to the destruction of many. And you have no doubt heard the stories that have started with some dramatic clash between a man and his past or present.
This story starts out nothing like that.
"Are we there yet?" I barked at my first mate.
I looked around the vast desert filled. It was covered with dunes and animal bones, all dry from the heat that scorched everything in the desert that now surrounded Berthelo, the infamous airship more commonly referred to as The S.S. Phantom. Her sails were covered in sand, her crew scattering about on its deck, her sides smeared with the blood of countless victorious battles.
I turned my head back to my first mate, who was scowling at me.
"Are you serious?" he said incredulously. "We've only been out sailing for three minutes, how fast do you think this ship can fly? Honestly!"
I gave him a cold stare for a moment, "Leave me be. I need some time to think to myself." The little stump of a man grunted as he set off to rejoin his fellow shipmates now that he had been dismissed.
I pulled my scabbard from my side, and brought it up to my eyes, staring at the intricate handiwork of threadworkers. I slowly unsheathed the old blade residing in the scabbard, and turned it upright. I stared at the reflection in that steel blade, the young woman with flowing hair and green eyes......that person was not me. Her frown showed defeat and sorrow. I pondered this for a while until suddenly I noticed another reflection in the blade, one of a shirtless man in the distance, a few yards behind the ship, riding a winged beast, aiming his rifle carefully at my head. That's when I knew.
"It's an ambush!" my first mate called out.
This whole time, the thieves knew we were coming, and I had been too blind to notice it until it hit me right in the face. I watched as a pack of burly men bound a group of my sailmates, helpless and tied up, at the mercy of men whose treasures we had tried to steal. Laughter erupted as a bald, tall, dark, and generally gruesome looking man approached me. He stopped just inches from me, then reached out his hand lifted the bottom of my chin with his finger so I could see right into his eyes, or rather, an eye and an eyepatch. "Well, lookie here," the man cried out gleefully. "The Phantom's captain's a little girl! Heh heh heh…hey boss? What should we do wit' em?"
I followed his line of vision to see that my new friend was talking to a man several feet behind me. He was garbed in a tattered red shirt, dark black pants, a red bandanna, and various useless accessories that consumed him, the most noticeable being the one studded right on his lip. It was a large worm shaped ring that was twice as big as the lip it was attached to. A cascade of orange hair fell from the edges of the bandanna, covering part of his head and emphasizing his red eyes. Those red eyes pierced deep into my soul. I shuddered merely by looking into them.
He whipped his head around, saw me, smiled, and then said a deep voice, "Well well well, what's a beautiful maiden like you doing with a band of greasy men like this?" He had asked me with the courtesy of a gentleman. One might have thought he was truly being complimentary, had I not been smart enough to know what was hidden deep beneath those words. He went on to say, "Someone as lovely as you should not shame themselves to hanging around with these oafs."
He stretched out his arms and spun around to show that he was going to say something stupid and unthinkable,"What do you say to you and I, after all this nonsense is over, having a little chat? Get to know each other, share secrets of the Phantom King, enjoy a dinner?" As he was saying this he had been walking towards me, and so by the time he finished our faces were practically touching.
I breathed these words into his face, "I would rather jump off this ship then accept the courtesy of a pig." I then spat in his face.
He responded with a smile. He then lurched back to an upright position and looked at the bald man.
He chuckled and yelled, "Well, you heard the woman! Let's give her what she wants!" The band of thieves and raiders yelled out in agreement, in preparation for war.
In a few minutes, I was going to be forced off the ship by a group of sweaty pigs.
I walked the plank of wood that was meant for people that I did not like. How ironic that now I was walking it.
"Before we kill you, I would like to know your name!" The leader called out to me.
The biting desert wind blew past my hair and ears, I could have pretended not to hear, but I told him anyways. I said in a steady tone "My name? My name is Rinael Venasari. And it will be the last name you will ever hear."
In one swift movement I undid the rope binding my arms, then charged as quickly as I could into the man holding my scabbard. I grabbed it quickly as it popped in the air, and quickly unsheathed my sword.
In mere moments, several men who attempted to recapture me were cut in half, torso from legs. I quickly backstabbed a raider who was about to cut me open, the blade sunk deep into his chest, and I pushed it in farther. His body quickly lost control and fell limp, his blade clanging to the ground. A thief in front of me tried to shoot me, but I quickly ran up to him and swung at his throat, decapitating him before he could shoot.
I neared my men and cut them free, but just as I was about to cut my first mate free, I felt a sharp pain enter through my leg.
"AGGGGH!" I fell to the ground, dropping my sword, as I quickly reached for my thigh. When I drew back my hand, I saw it was covered in blood. ♥♥♥♥, I'd been shot.
"Captain! Captain!" I heard.
A huge battle ensued, my crew fueled by the anger at my injury. I watched for a few moments, then suddenly noticed footsteps approaching me. I was dismayed to see that it was the orange haired man. He bent down and stared at me as though he were studying me.
"Such beauty gone to waste…tsk tsk." At that moment, one of my crewmen ran up behind him with sword raised, but was quickly stopped by a pistol round that penetrated his skull. As he sunk to the ground, I realized that we seriously needed help. I also knew that we weren't going to get it.
"I really don't want to do this, you know, but now that you've asked for death, I might as well let you know the name of your killer." He quickly stifled a chuckle and prepared his throat. "My name is Austin Chaufouis, a name, I know, you would have loved, if only you lived long enough." He clicked his tongue, then stood up and effortlessly shot several more of my men before running out of ammunition. "Ah well." He had dropped his pistol to the floor, as if it was a stain on his hand he wanted to wash off. He quickly started to punch people as fast as his hands could fly. I seized the opportunity to attempt to reach for his sword, which was lying nearby. Just before I reached it, however, Austin noticed what I was doing and quickly kicked the sword out of my reach.
"Ah, trying for your weapon to hope for a final strike on moi? We wouldn't want that now would we?" he sneered, leaning his face back towards mine. I then burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" he asked, slightly confused.
"Ha ha…my blade wasn't the point. This is." I quickly drew a knife from my long boot, and stabbed Austin in the leg.
He cried out in pain,"AUUUUGHHH....."
I felt a sharp sting tear across my face. His slap hurt so much, I couldn't find any more power left to move.
"YOU B****!" He yelled at me in anger. "I'M GONNA KILL YOU HERE AND NOW!" Austin pulled my knife from his leg, barely flinching, as he readied to kill me with my own last resort.
"No!" cried a voice which I hardly noticed and therefore could not discern.
Just as Austin was about stab me, my first mate tackled him with so much force that they both fell over the railing. The last thing I saw was my first mate falling along with that terrible man down to the desert below before I fell unconscious.
"Yes, quite a riveting tale, was it not? Of course, it's not over, but perhaps I should go back to a more…explanatory chapter before I continue." The man flips a few pages backward and stops, placing his finger on the top corner of the left page.
"All right, I hope you are willing to listen to this…less than exciting chapter."
The slightly unoriginal beginning
A long time ago, there lived a race of all powerful beings called, "Runouel." These beings had powers beyond imagination, and with it, they constructed a grand city. Life was filled with love, happiness, and all things you would expect out of an idealistic society, but after a while, the Runouel became tired of their peaceful existence. Around that time, their minds were filled with ideas of alternate worlds, demonic beings, evil, good, rulers and other such notions that delighted their imagination. With their power, the Runouel created these things and they believed, for a while, they had succeeded in their efforts to introduce new excitement into their lives. Though the Runouel left most of their creations were left to die, some managed to pull through. Eventually, the Runouel started to lose all control over their creations, bickering about and betraying each other like the savages they had thought up of in their ideas. It all lead up to the destruction of the great Runouel people, their grand city shattered to bits and pieces and scattered throughout the lands they had created for their enjoyment. Their creations, throughout their generations, came to forget the Runouel, and the city's ruins gradually became burined in soil and groundwork, ancient artifacts and the Runouel themselves buried beneath the surface, beneath their own creations.
One of the creations that managed to live was a large world indeed. The Runouel had decidedly made this a vast world, and as such, many kinds of things came to live in this world. At the start of it all, there lived a mighty ruler who ruled with a fist of steel. As royal generations passed, the rulers of this world became more careless. Some of them started unnecessary wars during their reign. Others were either too weak or too unfit to rule. The last time all had worked together and united was when a fool had sacrificed his humanity to become a dark Demon, known with a shudder as the Demon King. The people had destroyed the Demon King, after which he could no longer harm anything. After this, these creations, which became known as humans, started again to fight, and over time the factions that were formed from these wars went their separate ways..
These factions held their ground everywhere it could be found, whether they be the thieves and raiders of the deserts or the mad cannibals who roamed the forests.
Those with birth defects and radioactive infections took to the oceans and other hiding spots of the world.
Some men lost their bodies and had to have their souls transferred to suits of armor.
Mostly, however, the humans, through curses or dark rituals, became infected with demonic blood of the Demon King and became demons. Others swore their allegiance to the Phantoms, a group of mysterious people with suspicious agendas.
This story begins with another fool, who sought to do that which no person would think to do, and it is here, in this place, that a hero rose to defeat this menace, and prevent a destruction unlike the world has ever seen.
This is the story......
**Phantoms**
Turn 1: The Hero
On a cold winter morning, in the time before the light, was a town so very peaceful, it had never seen a fight.
In the days that had come to pass, came a bright young boy with a knack to know what is and what is not right.
One day strange, his father enlisted him in an army, and despite all his hardships.
He fought hard and strong and even learned how to make salsa dip.
This is the day, the time for the Hero, the one who shall rise to defeat the dark villain.
Date: Marche 16
Weather: Cold Winds
Time: Morning
Location: 30 klicks Northwest of Runouw City
"Listen, Zura, I want you to deliver this sealed letter to the mayor of Runouw City. I bestow this task upon you for I know you won't open the letter, unlike my previous messengers," the leader told his brightest and most loyal man.
"Yes sir!" said Zura, the world's most upstanding man, with a clean set of clothes, a nicely trimmed face. and a do-gooder personality. He took the letter and placed it in a leather bag, then made a salute to his commanding officer.
"Just don't screw this up." The officer waved his hand to send the boy away. Zura quickly rushed out of the tent and hurried past his comrades to the stables. This was observed by two soldiers and brothers standing outside a tent and drinking beer together.
The one holding a beer in one hand and resting the other one in his pocket, looked on as the boy passed through his line of sight and muttered, "queer."
The one smoking a cigarette and drinking simultaneously added, "Goody-two shoes queer." The other chuckled and said. "True that, brother."
In a few seconds, a blaring sound interrupted their conversation, and within moments men were rushing all over the place, all except the two brothers, who continued to passively observe the scene with an uncaring look on their faces. A man no older than twenty skidded to a halt and turned his attention to the unmoving gentlemen still downing some beer that was warm by this time. "What the hell are you two idiots laying around for? Demons have been spotted in the hills to the north! We have to move out and deal with them!" the passing man chastised.
"Listen, kid," responded one of the brothers, who was now drunk. "You do what you do best, and we'll do the same. Now get your ♥♥♥ outta here." The passing man scowled but ran off. The drunk's brother turned his head to look at him, "What are you supposin' we do now, brother?" The drunk picked up the hat laying on the cooler, the letters "G M" crudely marked on the front. He held his hat in front of his eyes for a moment, and replied, "Like I said - " he placed the hat on his head, and tugged it so it fit nice and tight, before concluding with a smile on his face - "We do what we do best."
The sound of old leather boots echoed throughout the hills. A small breeze blew through the grassy hills that were soon to become the scene of an epic battle. When the army stopped and stood at the top of one hill vigilantly, the eerie silence that followed was only matched by the overwhelming bulk of the demon army that lay below, unaware of the group of men lying in wait. This silence was interrupted by a bizarre crunching sound.
"Would you stop eating that?" Gary hissed at his brother.
"It's not my fault I was the only one smart enough to bring food," Keith retorted with a mouthful of potato chips.
They were the McCall brothers, probably two of the greatest sharpshooters and criminals south of Runouw City, who were now forced to pay off debts by serving the 15th Defense Battalion. They took up the reins of their horses with one hand and with the other clutched to a revolver or a bag of potato chips depending on the brother. Then they waited for a signal to initiate the battle.
Minutes passed, but since nobody was wearing a watch, the standoff seemed to last for hours. Finally, the silence was broken by a soldier's out of place question, "Anyone in the mood for some Red Lobster?" At the very instant, an enraged Rock Lobster the size of a giant boulder scurried past his fellow demons and rushed up the hill to kill the ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ who suggested eating some lobster. A band of men emerged from the army at the top of the hill wielding chainsaws, and the clash between the two giant forces initiated the chaotic battle between the two armies. It was evident an outcome was not to arrive anytime soon.
"Sounds like something a ten-year old would write up, does it not?" A.R. said, entertained by the thought. "I feel…famished - let us continue this story after I have a little lunch, shall we? It's not like the world will end anytime soon." With that, A.R. got up from his chair, and slammed the book shut. "Hmm…perhaps a little Asian food ought to satisfy my hunger." A.R. spoke very silently, in thought.
A few hours later, A.R. returned to his living room, the fire crackling silently with grace, the books and furniture untouched, nothing moved out of place. "Still here? Good for you." A.R. chuckles. Two chopstick protruded from where his heart should be. A.R. notices his guest looking at it. "Ah, don't worry about that," he said with a small chuckle. He plucks the sticks out of his slightly bloodied robe while muttering, "crazy Asians and their unwillingness to give up their life for the health of others." The man looked back to his acquaintance. "You know, I once met a man like you, only…ah, that doesn't have any relevance to this book or you anymore, now does it?" and slowly sat back in his chair and opened up the book once more. "Well, I guess it's back to it then…"
And as the man began to continue the story, the warm glow of the fireplace slowly darkened until nothing could be seen.
More to come another day.
Last edited by Anonymous on November 7th, 2010, 7:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
THE CREED: Nothing is True. Everything is Permitted.
"...That's rather cynical."
"It would be if it were doctrine, but it is merely an observation of the nature of reality.
To say that Nothing is True is to realize that the foundations of society are fragile, and that we must be the shephards of our own civilization.
To say that Everything is Permitted is to understand that we are the architects of our actions, and that we must live with the consequences, whether glorious...or tragic."
-Ezio Auditore da Firenze explaining the Creed, 1514, Masayaf.