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(( OOC Warning: below the spoilers is a small piece about pulling the plug on his family, read at your own discretion. ))



Ripley felt something wet fall against his cheeks. He blinked and lifted a hand to touch the offending water. He was...crying...?

"...Damn you." He cursed under his breath, his teeth gritting. "How dare you..." Ripley hissed, his hands balling into fists.

Lutz wasn't really sure what to make of all the memories--one that were clearly not of his own--that were hitting him left and right. Some of them--in the case of Lock, anyways--even involved him, a fact that surprised him a little. After all, he hadn't really thought that anyone would think of him in any way--he was, he had thought, completely and utterly forgettable--but...apparently not.

To be honest? It actually kind of touched him.

Unfortunately, his own memory was not nearly as pleasant to him as the others had been. On the contrary, the boy found himself thinking once more of one of his first encounters upon first arriving at Halloween. It wasn't as if he had thought that everyone here was pleasant--there were always bad people among the good--but he hadn't quite expected for the group of teens to harass him. The yelling, he could take, but he had felt his patience breaking down when they had begun to throw things at him. Wearing ragged clothing and sitting in the dark alleyway, they had chosen to pick on him on the basis of his apparent helplessness.

Although he was tempted to stand up and lunge at them, throwing his fists in their guts, he refrained from his urges, afraid of what kind of punishment he'd receive in this place if he were to do such a thing.

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Thinking some as she was getting more into this battle even if she was getting slower and if she wasn't hitting the queen at all. She remember to choose her battles wisely.

"I just really like to fight, I don't know why I just do it makes me feel more alive," she answered her guardian.

"Well it is not always wise to do that as it will only make thing harder for you in the long run of life and you just need to stop picking fight every time you lose your temper,"

"It was there fault in starting it they were the ones that made me mad so I just had to make them pay,"

"Well even if you loose you temper you must remember to pick your battle wisely as you will be happier in the long run,"

Huffing a little as she knew her guardian was right even if she did like to battle, picking them would be better than always fighting all the time. "Alright I will try and pick my battles, guardian," she answered.

"Good girl," the Fuu Dog answered with a warm smile.

Where he had only seen the towering Grief queen before, Punchy saw two figures now, white and red, the latter falling quietly to pieces. Memories struck him swiftly and mercilessly—the little king clapping her hands at the new year's festival, her proclamation of war, gunpowder tea, breathing in the scent of freshly trimmed palace grass seconds before his queen's boa snapped his neck—and he sucked in a pained gasp. Destruction. He had been fighting for her all along. Now that she had been defeated, a small part of him had been as well.

He took a step toward Grief, intending to strike, but his limbs felt leaden and his heart grew sluggish as his queen's demise continued to weaken him. His fingers shook as he drew a card. Judgment. He didn't get a chance to strike before the memories overtook him.

He couldn't recall the exact reason why he had so vehemently targeted that dress. He hadn't known that her friend had made it, he hadn't known that it was pretty close to the only expensive article of clothing she had ever owned, all he'd known was that it was a prom dress, and bitches love dresses.

It had been a point of embarrassment, not only that she had bested him... again, but that the thing he had ruined had been something unique, something special. He'd bought her several other dresses since, but they weren't the same.

He would forever be grateful that she seemed to have forgiven him long ago, even if he had never forgiven himself.

When Trex2000 joined in the battle, he couldn't help the pained feeling spreading through him. Not physical pain, but emotional, like a betrayal. They had worked so hard to support this 'queen', only to have it turned around on them? He didn't want to be here forever! He had to get back to the real world...

Glancing to one side he noticed adventuremaster, and the... dream, something about a love. Or something that once was love. Worried for his friend, the teen pulled out his card...

//---------------------

Oliver landed hard, pebbles digging into his palms as he tried to break his fall on the schoolyard asphalt. He was being laughed at. The older boy stood over him fearsomely, calling him names while the other students smirked at his hurtful words. This year was hard, he didn't know anyone in his class anymore, and none of his friends wanted to play with him for fear of drawing the older crowd's attention...

He tried to get up, but was pushed again and the group laughed harder. It was impossible to get away from the bullies. With all the wisdom of an extra year under their belt, Oliver was consistently targeted the moment the teachers turned their back. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and the jeers turned into mocking imitations.

He didn't want to cry, but he was powerless to keep the tears back.

//----------------------

Trex2000 took a step back, unnerved by what had just happened. The queen had pulled out that long-buried painful memory, and played it through as though watching a video. A brief thought crossed his mind... Maybe the real world didn't need him back.

The Mad Hatter wasn't sure what was going on, he arrived at the party rather late. All he could see was a big figure far away, something was moving slowly around them. it was so dark in the room, as if the electricity had been cut off, Snakebyte would see some other players around, but he couldn't really see who they were. Would there be any familiar faces? "__. __ I couldn't see anything, no even a dessert." Head said with a surprised but unhappy voice. "I don't know either...but I guess it's boss time?" The boil said with a little excited voice. He decided to approach the floating figure. With a closer look, he would see the name tag of them - Echo of Grief. He remembered the voice was the one in the castle. "The Queen?" He wanted to step closer, but abruptly found his moves being rigid. Was there the boss ability of the Queen? "It's so weird, __.___!" The Head said, finding himself couldn't move easily also. "My guess is petrification." As he tried his forces to move even closer, his memories unwound in front of him. "Be careful, Bro, not to look at those flashbacks." However, the moment that he wished to throw away forever came back.

The boil holding the trophy was dashing towards his home, he couldn't wait to share the joy with his family. The place was just like his backyard that he picked the shortest route full with obstacle. He hop between two buildings, slid down the drying rope and dodging the crowd in a zig-zag motion. He wanted to get home as soon as possible because he assured this time he would impress his parents. With the greatest hope, the boil opened the door. "Hey look what I've gotten?" He asked delightedly, trying to hide the trophy behind him. "Sorry dear, we don't have time now, we have to attend your sister's celebration party, she won the champion!" His mother stroked his head while announcing the good news elatedly. "Oh oh we are late, your sister has been waiting for us, be a good boil." They hurried off the house. The boil left alone had his expression turned from overjoyed to calm, and then from calm to - He hit the trophy onto the ground, together with his heart. The glass trophy shattered into pieces, unable to put together again. "Sister! Sister! Why always her?! I won a competition also!" They would never know, never. They didn't know on that day, a boil gave up on dancing when he threw all the broken pieces into the rubbish bin, just like his heart and all the efforts he had been making.

"Jacking." The Mad Hatter cursed, not feeling good to recall his feel at that day.

It was dark. The red queen had lost and within Shaheen was a strong sense of failure. She did not like to lose, she did not approve of it in any way, but this loss seemed more...significant then most. She had needed this victory, had felt that it may be necessary to move forward along the path of her own journey. Medea had set them the task, to make the choice...

Now there was only one choice left. To stand and fight the queen that remained. To oppose her. To----

Love was such a funny word to Shaheen. Certainly she felt that she had the capacity to love somebody, and indeed she now felt like she did. She remembered the exact moment that she knew, that memory would not be lost from her, not again.

Stood together, he had saved her, and not for the first time. She had been on the brink, tipping over that edge. The insanity had been slowly claiming her for quite some time, her struggles with it ongoing, sometimes she could suppress it, though. Sometimes remembering she was no longer alone was enough.

But the whispers were like poison, a toxin that spread doubt and uncertainty. When he had left, she had believed that he just wished for her to be gone.

But he had returned, and they had fought. With swords they fought, with tooth and nail. She'd had the upper hand throughout, had wanted to destroy him.

And then the dagger, fuelled by distortion, had been thrust deep within her chest. The pain had been unimaginable, a fire tearing through every nerve in her body, which writhed against the ground, screeches penetrating the air.

When it was over, the insanity chased away, the grey on her body gone and replaced with bronzed skin, her eyes bleeding back to their honey golden brown rather then the glowing yellow gold of before, he helped her to her feet, and had just held her.

And she knew then that she loved him. It had been as simple of a conclusion as she had ever made, but with the most complicated and treacherous journey to get her to that point. She trusted him more then anything.

But even back then, she had been too scared to admit it out loud.

She reeled back away from the memory that was so easily coaxed forth, and that was when she began to notice it, the way her body felt stiffer then before. What was this? She flexed her arms, rolled her head from side to side and the feeling remained.