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 Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2009 3:14 pm
He looked in the mirror once again to make sure. He placed his hand under his chin and smiled seductively back at himself. "Hot damn." he spoke to his reflection. "You're usually handsome, but tonight? You broke the barrier, pal. Tonight you're sexy. Dead sexy."
He brushed his neck long hair out from his eyes. Lance always knew he was on the positive side of the looks department. A close to perfect face, with no pimples, scars, dead skin or anything else that could've ruined it. A nice and healthy diet mixed with excercise also gave him quite the body. Even so, he had never really been that interested in girls, so he hadn't really been around them much.
Up until now, though.
The mercenary group he was staying with, Xavier's Ghasts, paired him up with this girl a year or so older than him. And Lance didn't know much about girls, but he had a feeling this one was perfect...cute, beautiful, friendly, good sense of humour, about the same morales as he had...and never in his 17 year old life had he met a girl he interacted so well with.
Tonight, he was going to say it. How much he liked her. That he would want their relationship to be something more than friends. Confessing it was called, right?
They were staying at this inn, preparing to leave after their most recent succeeded heist. She was going to set up the meeting with their employer, and Lance was on guarding duty for the loot: a statue of Saint Elimine, adorned with a giant pearl in the middle.
Boots in the hallway signaled that his partner was entering soon. He readied himself with a cool pose near the window, and turned his back towards the door. He looked off in the distant...weird. All the could see was some warped sky. Maybe it was one of those...auroras?
Finally, she entered the room. Lance turned around with a smile on his face. "Welcome ba--..."
Huh?
She was not alone. A small troop of six men of various sizes and appearances entered alongside her, none of them looking too friendly. But not only that, but...her face seemed...blurred...he could only make out her lips, for some reason, and it was shaped into a mocking grin.
"Hi, Lance." she said in a different tone than usual...it almost sounded as if she spat his name out. As she said that, two of the burly men walked up and grabbed each of Lance's arms, pinning him up against the wall. "Wh-what the?! Leggo of me, you overgrown amoebas!"
She came closer to him, slowly. She swayed her hips as she walked, stopping inches from Lance's face. "Change of plans, Lancy-boy. The employer only needs one of us to finish this job...and sharing the gold with you seems like a waste. Not to mention, I can cash in your bounty while I'm at it."
Her voice sounded like a shriek to his ears now. "Wait, wait, wait, wait," he started, "This is a bad dream, right? There's no way you'd talk like this...I'd pinch my arm, but, as you can see..."
He tried sounding a bit smug, acting a bit defensively, but then she placed her knee right between his legs, under his groin. "Oh, this is very much real, Lancy-boy, don't try to get smart with me. You can tell...right?"
She leaned up on him and wrapped her arms around his waist, and Lance couldn't help but to blush at the touch of her breasts to his chest. Then, he felt something getting unhooked from his belt, as she brandished his own dagger on him. "You always...annoyed me. So happy-go-lucky, as if you didn't have a care in the world. You're supposed to be a thief, yet you act as if you're some sort of vigilante, helping those in need even when they haven't asked for it..." The tone of her voice got colder and colder, as Lance felt the sensation of his dagger brush against his cheek. "In fact...some times it annoyed me so that I almost had to...hurt you to get over it."
As she said that, she pressed the sharpened dagger right above his eye brow, and Lance could feel the trickle of blood as she started pulling the dagger downwards. Lance tried to flail and kick to get loose, but the two brutes held on to him too tightly for him to move. He started screaming in panic as the dagger excruciatingly slowly came closer to his eye. He closed it as the dagger started cutting up his face. The pain was almost unbearable, and finally she stopped slicing into his flesh. Lance still held his left eye closed as she pulled the dagger out from him. "Awww. It didn't cut deep enough. I wanted your eyeball popping out. Maybe I should try again...?"
The thought of having to go through the same made Lance's mind race. He started pleading for her to stop, over, and over, and over again. "Stop...stop...STOP!"
At that moment, for what felt like a split second, everything got misty for him. When he finally came back to his senses, he was standing in a room, littered with bodies. All of the men had an expression of fear in their eyes, their faces frozen as death took its toll. All of them also had gaping holes through where their hearts used to be. He didn't see her anywhere...come to think of...what was her name, again? Yells were coming from the hallway. "This way, Sergeant! There was a commotion in this room!"
Lance, still red with blood in his face, and confused at what had happened, reacted instantly, and made his escape through the window, leaping out of it, hoping there was something soft below...
Thud.
Lance found himself face first into the wooden floor, his bed sheets all moist from sweat during the night. The bedding was a mess, he must've wriggled about much during his sleep. He grabbed the left size of his face. His scar felt like it was burning up. Amazing how it took him a faceplant to wake up from that...then again, since it was a memory playing up for him, he probably took it as something natural, which is why he didn't wake up when his face was getting slashed. Lance stood up and stretched. It was still dark outside. But no way he could go back to sleep now, not after that. He sighed deeply. "...I'm never eating Aidan's home cooking again..."
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Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2009 4:17 pm
I ain't givin' in,
no matter how hard th' fight
before me looks t' be!>{Leon}< At least not all of Eyris were covered in the blankets of nightmares. As a matter of fact, Leon's vision from the back of his mind was a pleasant one, meaning neither a memory or a nightmare. To be honest, he'd lived a nightmare two weeks prior, with the case of Tura and the madman's twisted scheme to 'reform' Eyris.
Oddly enough, he'd woken up in his dream, so it appeared that he'd begun to start his day. Leon might have even been sleepwalking, but he couldn't tell. He wasn't really awake and aware of the real world. Another messenger was knocking on his door. If this was another difficult case, he was ready to let someone else take it.
"Lieutenant, I have two people here to see you!"
"Peop'le 'ere t' see me?" The young man questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Ya mean no mess'ges? No cases, jus' vis'tors?"
"Y-yessir." The messenger replied nervously. "But, they're not Learanian, Lieutenant Vatara, I had to show them the way here."
"Get outta th' doorway an' let 'em see me then!" The young man shouted, and in an instant the panicked messenger cleared out of the way. He gasped upon the next sight he saw. Although the two were aged, his visitors, an older man and woman whom were obviously married by the rings on their fingers and the way they were armlocked had two faces that were unmistakable. Leon couldn't believe his eyes, after all this time... they'd finally found the same way here.... "Mother... Father...?" was all he could say. He would have said more, but the sun's rays poked into his eyes just like many mornings before, telling him it was time to suit up for the Day Watch's duty once again.
"Wha' a strange dream..." he muttered to himself.
>{Watch Lieutenant}< If ya just bel'eve, then...
ev'n if th' world be torn asunder,
vict'ry will be yers to hold!
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Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2009 4:23 pm
Buttered toast.
It.
Was.
EVERYWHERE.
It covered the streets. It filled the houses. It rained down from the sky! Desperately people munched on buttery goodness to escape only to find MORE buttery goodness all around them!
Back at the Watch House, Ghis and Javert and a motley crew of brave revenants had gathered, their (rotting or not) faces grim against the rampaging toasted hordes. Maws gaped and snapped down, the crust crushed beneath their jaws! Stomachs burned the remnants with powerful acid no magician's spells could match!
"Char--*NOM*--ice!" Ghis roared, stuffing his face with butter and toast. "Sto' Buttered--*OM NOM NOM*--mmph mmph! *NOM* SAVE RHYSMAN!"
And now the Falcoknight flew through the downpour of buttered toast, having no freaking clue who she was after and how she was supposed to find Rhysman or how much longer she could take all this toast. Iron Swords worked well against people, not toast, and so she and her pegasus were pelted constantly by breakfast. But the streets seemed deserted--already, they were covered with a layer of toast at least a foot high, and it seemed that before long anyone in the street would be buried. Nothing at all looked like something other than--
POOF!
And suddenly, the scene changed...
Charice and her pegasus were seated on some street in Eyris, its hooves crunching through the layer of toast. Before her were two people... or perhaps one man and another "man". One man was bent over, kneeling. This man was dressed in white priestly robes and had orange hair, but he had a black facemask covering his face. The "man" had the physique of someone very muscular (a six-pack, strong legs and arms, etc) and might have been fairly attractive had he not had a slice of toast for a head.
"Uurrrghh... Damn you, Buttered Toast Man! What did the people of Eyris ever do to you!?" the priestly bent-over "superhero" snarled, arms folded over his stomach, red eyes glaring at Buttered Toast Man.
"Ha ha ha! Foolish Rhysman," the Toastman taunted. "I do not need a reason to cover Learania in toast! I told you--I told you I would one day destroy you and rule the world, and at last the day is at hand! But first, to remove that mask of yours and reveal your identity once and for all!"
"What!? H-hey! What do you mean, you're going to cover the world in buttered toast?" Charice shouted, clearly confused about everything that was going on. "What the blazes are you talking about? How are you--MMMPH MMMPH MMM--"
Buttered Toast Man had noted Charice's existence, but paid her no heed, for a wave of his hand and Charice was buried under a mound of buttered toast as he walked up to Rhysman, then kneeled so that their faces were at the same level.
"I've been waiting for this for a long time, Rhysman..."
For some reason, Aph wasn't budging. The toast seemed to somehow be preventing the flow of oxygen! Charice couldn't breathe! The world slowly seemed to be fading. Too... much... buttered... TOAST!
The last thing Charice saw before she died of toast asphyxiation was... well, darkness. No light getting through the toast! But she did hear a familiar voice... a voice of one who had died at Easter, her former "Mage Gunner"...
"At least I had the decency to die by a REAL weapon! You fail."
--------
"Zzzzz-rrr?"
She poked open one tired eye. Nothing but darkness in the barracks, but no sign of mounds of toast, either.
Thank goodness, she decided as she went back to sleep, moving her head a little to get away from the wet feel of drool against her pillow.
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Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2009 5:32 pm
A few footsteps forward, a blinding light, and the cheers of thousands of spectators, a sparse setup of pillars around the sandy floor, and up in the booth, a few vibrantly colored friends, waving their arms and cheering with even more energy than the rest of the building combined. And standing elegantly on the far side of the building was Amelia, spear in hand. With another flash of light, the pair both looked back up to the booth, hands reflexively going towards their eyes. The source? A white garbed man with burnt amber hair, a radiant hand pointing to the sky. With a barely visible flick of the wrist, the light shot above the large room, exploding into a shower of prismatic fireworks. Two screeches erupted from the booth as well, a crimson and teal pair of dragons launching beams of fire and ice into the sky, which meshed together into even more sparkling light. These people paid for a show, so they were going to get quite the spectacle! The land can't have their favorite Host Club letting them down, can they? These people paid to see a fight, and dammit, they were gonna get one!
Another roar from the dragon twins, and it began. Confident smile on her face, Amelia rushed toward the boy, spinning her lance as she leaped into the air, swinging it down with massive force. She hadn't gotten an apology out of him for disappearing all through that last conflict, so why not beat it out of him? With non-lethal force, of course. But, the lance stopped right above the boy's head, shaking and shivering as gravity brought the General back to the sandy ground. Rei had halted the spear's drop with a jet of darkness, his agile frame allowing him to slide out of the path of the blade. In a flash, the spear slammed into the ground, sending a small spray of sand on both sides.
Before anything more happened, Rei slammed a fist onto the ground, energies from his tome surging into the sand below. After a minor tremor, beams of darkness shot from the sand, quickly forming a whirling vortex around Amelia. Well, at least until a few sharp sounds heralded the vortex's dispersing. The girl's spear simply chopped it all to ribbons, nearly skipping out of the area with a smile on her face. And that smile hardly faded once she pulled out a sword alongside the spear, bursting into a sprint towards the Druid. Shocked at her resourcefulness, Rei did little but take a few short steps back, hands reaching back into the cloak. When they returned to view, as the General got closer and closer, each was holding a staff. In one, Heal. In the other, Berserk. In a flurry of clangs and slices, the two began to deflect and parry each other's attacks, flashes of silver and red getting ever brighter.
With a sharp shing, Amelia flipped away from the Druid, skidding to a halt as her feet hit the sand. Both her and Rei were visibly grinning, having a blast and bringing in quite the profit for the Host Club. For once, Rei was in a fight that wasn't life or death, fight or flight. And it was great. Too bad for him that it was only a dream.
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Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2009 6:29 pm
I will not be helping
my men and women in armor
by standing there, crying. .(o)[Leena](o). Leena had fallen asleep, luckily dousing the forge's flames before she rested from making her most recent creation: The Hero Crest. Over the few months since FEF's anniversary number three, she'd begun to study the plans and tomes her father, the great magical craftsman Gerald left behind.
What she woke up to was the outside of the shop. There was an usual occurence, she could tell, for people were gathering outside in the masses, torches a blazing, pitchforks raised. "What... what is the meaning of this?"
"Your worthless magical jewelry cost my son his life!" shouted one.
"Don't you know, your so-called 'speedwings' actually made my daughter slower! She would have been accepted into the Watch had you not gave us faulty material!" another yelled.
More and more insults flied Leena's way, and the young girl put her hands over her ears. "Shut up, shut up, it's not my fault, I did my best, shut up!!!"
The mob did not listen, and then moved closer. A Molotov Cocktail went flying from the leader of rioters, erupting in flames and setting the shop right behind Leena ablaze. She did the only thing she knew she could do, as her hammer was inside a building... she looked for an opening and darted there.
The jewelry vendor didn't run fast enough, for about three of the angry citizens held her back. There was no struggling, their grip was too strong. One of them put a hand over her mouth. "Tie her up and burn the witch!"
The citizens cheered upon that declaration. More was about to be said, but the rioter suddenly found himself silenced.
As a matter of fact, more and more of them were growing silent... and then weird auras were making them sleep! What was this force... this power?
Her answer came to see a familiar black-robed priest standing at the head of an entire line of Watch medical officers. By the time she could even speak again, the entirety of the rioting crowd was now under heavy influences of several Silence and Sleep staves.
The black-robed on that led the spell casting came close to her, now being recognized as Magnet, in bishop robes of all dress! "Leena... are you all right? We came as quickly as we could. Leon and the riot squad are going to clean them up in a minute."
"Ma... Magnet... I... I don't understand... I just wanted to help them... I just..."
She was about to say more, until Leena returned to reality. Looking around, she realized she was still inside, the shop, and the Hero Crest she'd worked day and night for two nights in a row on was finished, still in her grip. Could that nightmare she had come true? Could she really be hurting Eyris with her creations instead of helping them? The thought chilled her, and stayed with her a while until she looked at her mailbox, filled with the letters of the Watch and their families that thanked her (and even gave her tips) for her efforts.
.(o)[Magical Jeweler](o). Instead, the forge is where I
belong, forever making items
that will help my heroes.
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Posted: Sat Oct 03, 2009 11:00 pm
Dark. It was definitely dark.
The young lord took a look around. There was fighting everywhere. When was this...? What battle was this...? People were falling left and right. Were they enemies, or...?
No. He couldn't think that. He wasn't going to allow him to think that his allies were dying, if they were his allies. It was too dark anyway to tell who was who. He wasn't even sure if this was Elibe, or if it was Learnia. It was took dark.
He noticed a hooded figure turn to glance at him (was it a glance? The hood covered the face, so he wasn't sure). Roy felt his heart begin to beat faster. He wasn't sure why, but that man had to be stopped. He ran after him, blade drawn. The figure spun around and began to run.
"Hey! Get back here!" Roy's voice echoed.
Why did it echo? He wasn't sure. But he knew he couldn't let that man get away.
They were soon away from the battle, in a secluded area. The young lord held the Sword of Seals in front of him. The hooded figure drew his own weapon: a rapier. The figure then took a stance.
Why did it seem so familiar to him, that fighting stance? He wasn't sure, but nevertheless, this figure had to be stopped. That's what his instinct was telling him.
Their blades crossed, and their battle began.
Their swords danced as they fought. A parry here, a counter there. Flames had encircled the two of them as they fought to the death. There was blood splashing around here and there as sword slashed or pierced flesh.
And then...it was all over. Roy had impaled the figure with the Sword of Seals. He leaned in to the figure to whisper a single word.
"Die." Another echo.
He twisted the blade to finish the job, then kicked the body to free his sword. The figure fell backwards as Roy swung the SoS to the side, cleaning it of the figure's blood.
Why did he kill this figure? Why did he want this guy killed so badly? Was there some history between the two? He sheathed the sword, then approached the slain figure.
"Now to see who you really are..."
He knelt down and pulled the hood away. There was a flash of red hair. Familiar red hair.
Bumpbump.
Red hair, blue eyes. A face that reminded the young lord of himself, but older.
Bah-bumpbah-bumpbah-bump.
What...?
"No..." he mouthed the word.
This person was...
Bah-bump. Bah-bump. Bah-bump. Bah-bump.
"No..." he whispered, voice echoing again.
It couldn't be...
"No..." he spoke a little louder, his voice an echo once more.
BAHBUMPBAHBUMPBAHBUMPBAHBUMPBAHBUMP.
It felt like his heart was going to jump out of his throat. It was beating so fast as realization hit him.
"NO!"
The young lord woke up with a jolt. Breathing heavily, he sat up slowly. Sweat covered his body, and it was clear he was lying in his own pool of sweat. He would have to wash the sheets later. He looked at his hands, his face pale.
It was only a dream. Just a dream. What had happened moments before was just a bad dream. He sighed wearily before he climbed out of bed to go wash the sweat off his body.
That's right...today was the day he would be returning to see everyone again. While he did stay in Eyris for a few weeks to help the Watch with Tura, they were only a few people. He wanted to see his Uncle and Mother again. And today was definitely the day he would see one of them.
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Overlord of Night- Shadow
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 6:44 am
The Gate above him.
He was back here once again. In the same spot, once again. Doing the same things he always had.... once again. The dragons awaited.
The people below him.
A neverending line of victims, of sacrifices, those dead by his blade, their vital life force drained for the purpose of opening this, so that one man might achieve the power of a god.
And he laughed.
The bishop laughed.
It was happening again, was it? Just as it always had. But not as it always would. And this was why he laughed. The screams of the anguished and dying filled his ears. The hands of dead souls grasped at his clothing, pulling at him, telling him of how his soul had been blackened with his deeds, of how he would never again be good, of how he was doomed to fail and burn and die. Of how he was no longer human.
But he did not falter. This time, his steps did not slow. This time, his hand did not waver. It couldn't be real.... yet this time, he would have closure. This time, he would atone. He strode forward; the ritual was almost completed. The moment that had first ruined his life. He drew back the shimmering blade, then plunged it down through robes and flesh, piercing the heart of the Dark Druid, pinning him to the ground, draining his life force as the man had drained the life of others and scattering it to the winds.
It was done.
Renault felt no regret. He felt no pain. He felt sadness, for those who had gone; he felt pity, for those left behind. But he could not go on living blaming himself. He had... others to take care of. He couldn't afford to die yet. So he left, and found them waiting outside. He took his beloved daughter in his arms, holding her close, eyes closing as gentle tears rolled down his cheeks. And the woman's hand rested on his shoulder gently, and he smiled. The Goddess... watched over him. He was not alone....
And then he woke, the bishop once known as a feared bringer of death, and his face was warm and kind. He had faced down his inner demons, now. And perhaps he would be the better for it. So he sat, and thought, taing the great magical book into his lap again. He'd done things he regretted... yes. But the past could not be changed. And dwelling upon it would hurt not only him but those around him. That was why.... That was why Renault resolved to treat the future as it should be treated; after all, his days were now limited.
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 12:24 pm
A great ogre with lackluster, purple skin, and a disfigured body lay in the center of a large field of orange colored grass. His skin seemed to ripple when he moved revealing the great muscles underneath his pallid hide. His face appeared to be a hastily put together mess, with a loopy smile plastered across it as he playfully poked at a young naked girl he had captured in his massive, hairy hands. The girl with shocking violet hair made no move to stir though, as she simply moaned in response to being poked.
“Stop right there, brainless beast!” Hatmon shouted, as she pointed her sword threateningly at the ogre in front of her. “You release my sister now; else you will have to answer to my blade!” She growled menacingly as her dark locks whipped around her naked frame. The ogre lazily blinked his single, watery eye in response to her words. A strange sound, similar to that of a dying animal, rumbled from within his throat as he rose from his seated position to stand at his full height. “I warned you, animal!”
The sword in Hatmon’s hand flashed as she hurried to close the distance between her and the ogre. In an instant she was behind the creature, as his body crumbled to the ground behind her. His body, having been cleaved in two, splashed red hot blood, melting anything it touched, including the sword in Hatmon’s hand. With a thump, the sword fell to the ground; the shining metal hissed as it was melted by the ogre’s blood.
“Adele,” Hatmon called as she turned around and raced over to the fallen girl, who lay motionless in the grass, not far from the fallen ogre. To the chimera’s relief she was unharmed, though her hair was a bit tussled as if she had just had a long night out on the town. “Sister,” Hatmon called, urging Adele to wake from her slumber. Adele’s eyes lazily opened, showing the girl that was her ‘sister’ that she was indeed alright. Tears gathered in Hatmon’s shining blue eyes, as she hugged the girl in her arms before helping lift her up into a standing position.
“Come, we must go, Tibarn is waiting for us up on Brass mountain. If we don’t hurry, we’ll be late for school.” Adele nodded once Hatmon had finished speaking, before turning towards the only tree on the plains and whistling. Cluck cluck cluck cluck! The tree said, as it shook with a frenzy, causing blue leaves to stir and be sent cascading to the ground below. Suddenly, two wolf beasts appeared on the top of the tree, before they fluttered over to the pair using the small chicken wings on their backs. Without another word the two boarded their respective mounts.
As they were riding along the silver bricked trail to Brass Mountain, they encountered a green haired man, lacking in clothes. “Hail good sir!” The man turned to face the pair, a worried look streaked across his features. “My sister, Adele, and I couldn’t help but notice that you lack a chicken wolf. Might we lend you some assistance?” Without waiting for an answer, Adele whistled as she had before, and in response to her call another chicken wolf hurried over to her side.
“Oh, why thank you, good ladies. My name is Rath, are you perhaps going to school too?” The handsome green haired man quickly boarded his new mount. Having been without a ride, he had been waking to the mountain until now, and was thus more than happy to accept the help of the two girls.
“Indeed, handsome sir, let us ride once more so that we are not late.” And once again the pair headed off, this time together with the man named Rath. It wasn’t long before the group arrived at the foot of the mountain that marked their destination. As the chicken wolfs used their tiny wings to fly upwards, Rath pointed to the top of the mountain where a small pink school house sat.
“Now, now, let us go to class, luckily we are not late.” Hastily the group of three tied their mounts to a large rock, before entering the school house. Inside they were greeted by Tibarn, the very busty female the group referred to as teacher. “Oi, Tibarn, are you not wearing clothes as well?” And then suddenly Rath grunted, causing Hatmon to look over to him. Her eyes went wide at what she saw, before the dream suddenly ended.
With a start, Hatmon’s eyes shot open, and she sat up with a puzzled expression. Her eyes glanced around the room, proving nothing was out of place. A sigh of relief escaped her as she scratched at her head, trying to make sense of the strange dream, or as some might call it a nightmare. “Perhaps, in the future, cake before bed isn’t the best of snacks.”
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 1:50 pm
“Hey, ma’am, wake up,” the bartender said, as he lightly shook the shoulder of the scantily clad woman seated at the bar. She had been drinking since earlier in the night, and flirting with various men in order to get free drinks. Now the bar was fairly empty, as morning would be approaching in a few short hours. Despite the bartender’s attempts to wake her though, she remained asleep. “Eh, I’ll give her a few more minutes ‘o sleepiness. She best be waking soon, lest some guy gets it in his mind to—“
“Ah, no, don’t touch there,” Kris moaned as the man seated in front of him suddenly moved his hand from his face to the breasts he currently had. It was a common occurrence for Kris to transform into a woman, saying femininity suited him better, or something along those lines. The man simply chucked, knowing Kris was just playing when he protested, thus rather than stopping, he progressed forward. Another moan escaped Kris as he felt the man’s hot breath against his cool skin.
Then suddenly the transformation broke, and Kris was left nearly naked, back in his original feminine, yet male, form. The man suddenly recoiled back, a shocked expression across his face. “T-t-this is a brothel! What is a man doing here?! I thought you were a girl!” Kris sat their puzzled for a moment, not yet having realized he had reverted into his true body once again. He blinked a few times while still simply staring at the man in front of him before his gaze finally traveled down to his own chest.
“Oh s**t,” Kris yelped as he stood up suddenly, causing the rest of his dress to fall onto the floor, leaving him stark naked. The man suddenly blushed, and a puff of smoke appeared around him. When the smoke cleared a girl was left where the man had formally been.
“Hey, I thought you were a guy!” Kris shouted, having suddenly woken up from his dream to find himself seated at the bar, with a surprised bartender standing in front of him. The bartender blinked, and opened his mouth before closing it and reopening it, finding he couldn’t produce any words. Finally he gave up the attempt, and simply pointed at Kris’s chest, causing Kris to pale and repeat the same action he had during the dream.
“I thought you had boobs…” the bartender said, as he scratched the back of his neck. Kris jumped up with a shriek, shocking the bartender and causing him to fall over in a puff of smoke. And just like in the dream, there where a man should be appeared a woman. Deja-vu, much?
“And I thought you were a guy,” Kris repeated once more before dashing right out of the bar. No one aside from the bartender was much surprised to see Kris in his female clothes, but never the less he didn’t want to be in that strange bar once more minute. For the future, Kris made a mental note, not to fall asleep in bars unless you wanted to learn something bad.
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 4:41 pm
It’s so dark. Sophia squinted into the icky darkness in hopes of making out some sort of figure. It didn’t matter what; anything would be welcome at this point. “R-rei… where’d you go…?” Her voiced echoed, sending chills down the lavender haired girl’s spine. Sophia was alone and unable to find her companion. Where was this place, why had she come here? An inkling of a memory not yet come to pass was tugging at her mind, as if it had some important message as to why she had come here. It eluded her, and she continued to trek slowly around in the dark.
“Rei…” she called his name again, producing an echo once more, but otherwise her call remained unanswered. The stone walls were cool and damp, to the touch as Sophia felt along them to guild her way through this unknown place. The wall then turned into a corner, and Sophia continued feeling along its length as she turned with it, making sure to keep close to her only source of direction.
“Eep!” Sophia squeaked as she fell on her bottom. From around another corner, there was suddenly light. The light flickered and wavered, as if it was formed from the fire of a torch. With the light had come shadows, the shadows of things around her and of the figure holding the torch. He was approaching her, causing Sophia’s breathe to hitch in her throat. As the figure with the light rounded the corner, relief filled her being. “R-rei!”
“Hm, Sophia what nonsense is this? Hurry up and get off the floor, we don’t have time to be sitting around!” A frown creased the green haired boy’s features as he looked down at the fallen girl, clearly annoyed to have had to come back to retrieve her. Sophia simply nodded as she let her gaze fall from the boy to the floor at his feet. A sigh from above signaled he was also annoyed by this gesture and that he wanted to move on already. “H-here, just take my hand!” His sudden offer caused Sophia to look back up at him. His face was turned away, but never the less his hand was extended to her.
“T-thank you,” Sophia whispered as she nervously placed her hand in Rei’s own. With a single jerk, Rei had used the strength of his arm to lift the girl to her feet, instantly sending heat up to her face.
“Come on, we don’t have a lot of time. Keep up this time,” he scolded as he turned back around and proceeded to walk towards the way he had come. It was ever so slightly, but a tiny click emitted from beneath his boots, as if some switch had just been flipped. The click was soon followed by rumbling, and Sophia paled as she looked up above her. The ceiling was descending preparing to crush the pair without mercy. “Sophia, what are you doing?! Move!”
Sophia snapped out of her thoughts and quickly began to run towards Rei’s voice. He had already moved far enough away from the portion of the ceiling that was falling, so that only Sophia was under it now. But, as they say, if something can go wrong it will go wrong, and as Sophia was nearing the safe spot she tripped, sending both her and Rei into a panic. “Sophia!”
“A-ah,” she moaned as she hurried to pick herself up off the ground and continue moving towards his voice. But something was amiss, for around her ankle a vine had crept out from the wall and wrapped around her leg. “R-rei, I c-can’t.” A strong hand grasped her arm and pulled her free, and into the safe spot in just the nick of time.
“What did you think you were doing stopping like that?!” Rei shouted as his hand tightened around Sophia’s arm, sending waves of pain through it. A soft whimper left her throat, and Rei released her. The sudden lack of support caused her to fall back to the ground. Sophia’s lavender eyes looked up and met with Rei’s blue ones as the boy continued to talk, but Sophia could no longer hear the words he was saying. Her vision started to fade and then she was overcome with darkness, both in vision and emotion. A plague is coming… we’re going to be the cause of it… aren’t we?
Sophia woke up panting. Her head throbbed with an incredible pain, and she clenched it harshly in an effort to stop that. The dream she just had, it felt very similar to the visions she often experienced that warned her of the future, but this was a dream, what meaning could it have. She shook her head, trying to clear it off unneeded thoughts and decipher this new puzzle the dream had presented her. Outside it was still dark, but faint lights flicked from outside her window. She touched the glass as she pushed her windows open, letting a light breeze into her room. “Something is coming…”
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 6:32 pm
Now I'm stuck here
But I don't belong here 
~Ninian~It's the same. . . .
She is walking through the halls of Castle Pherae. He is next to her, holding her hand. Today is a special day, their anniversary. Their young son lies in bed, fast asleep by now, worn out from the party still going on in the ballroom downstairs. It was late, however, and she had only just recovered from her latest bout of illness, though not entirely. He didn't want her pushing herself, and so she bowed to his wishes and let him escort her to bed.
Not again . . . please. . . .
He kisses her goodnight, holding her close for one last moment. He smiles, turns, and leaves, returning to the ball. She waited until he was out of sight before walking through the door. . . .
No, please, no!
Their son, screaming, crying. No--not their son, his. He looks like his father, after all, nothing like her.
He changes, growing into the older boy--man--she knows him to be.
"Mother? I don't have a mother," he says.
His father, standing behind him, his face the expression of rage never before directed at her, anger and sadness.
"Ninian, why did you leave us? Why?" he whispers.
No. No! NO!!
ELIWOOD!!
She jolts awake. No longer does she wake up screaming. She's had this dream too many times before. I wanna be where you are
Maybe I'm not so far from home
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Posted: Thu Oct 08, 2009 9:00 pm
"My dear, my love..."
A familiar whisper in the land of dreams, the feeling of a calloused hand gently caressing her cheek as Ayra's eyes remained closed in sleep. The air, though cold in the castle, felt remarkably warm in this separate place, this area where her imagination and her unconscious mind flirted with one another in shamelessly creating the impossible.
"...Vile, vile vision. Mirage, temptation, demon, away from me! I'm in a land of no return. A land of limbo, in which I can never leave. You cannot be him." Slowly, carefully, she dared to open her eyes, turning away from the man before her as she realized that his face matched the voice that had haunted her dreams for the time since their parting.
"Haha... that's just like you, my flower of Isaac. Just like you. How I've missed you, my beloved. Do not cast me aside as some demon or apparition. I'm real."
Almost as if desperate to prove her right, her blond lover drew her close, his warmth every bit as real as when she'd left him. His lips lightly brushed hers- he still felt the same, down to the scar that reached down the side of his left arm; she could still feel the raised flesh when she reached up to him, her eyes widening when they confirmed his identity.
"Holyn..."
It was horrible, how fate toyed with the mind.
The mind never told one that a vision was a dream. To her, it felt like reality. Blissful, warm reality. The feeling of lips trailing gently down her neck despite his strength... the movement of his hands through her hair... the way he held her with such gentleness, despite knowing that she could kill easily. Holyn had always held her like a china doll, and though she initially despised it, she eventually grew to relax in his protective embrace. For once in her life, she could relish the vulnerability she was supposed to feel when one lived in the arms of aristocracy.
"Ayra, the rose of Isaac... how I've missed you."
His breath was warm on her ear, and he just held her, whispering tales of lands long forgotten and telling her how much he missed having her there, by his side. She was his lover, his soul mate, his life... and the mother of their children. For a moment, she held onto him, content with this...
But there was an urgency she could not deny. Her nostalgia and sudden surge of joy gave way to desperation, and she pulled her close to him, tasting his lips again and letting him kiss her back. As always, infuriatingly gentle to give a sense of contrast to her assertive nature. Her frenzy, calmed by his cooler fire, despite their equal ferocity in the battlefields of war. Her desperate tugs at his shirt and the tears that fell from her eyes at the thought of regaining something lost were tempered by his patient attitude, the hand that moved slowly down to pull her against his toned body, and the other that reached up to wipe her tears away as they kissed again.
"...Ayra?"
Suddenly, the reverie was broken. Tearing herself from her former husband, her former lover and soul mate, terrified eyes turned to face the fierce eyes of the hawk she had sworn her soul to in this land of no return. In Limbo, selling her soul to another, while Holyn had been left behind. His brown wings were like a halo, stretched wide and strong, though his emotions were carefully veiled behind those golden eyes.
"...Who are you to address my wife?"
Ayra, her hand against Holyn's chest as he held her to his body, looked frantically back and forth.
Two men.
Two lives.
Her emotions strung between the two, never to break. Her heart was strong and stubborn, and defended the castles they had built around the two men that held her soul in their hands.
"Please, stop!"
"Who is he? A fling from this new purgatory?"
"I could ask you the same question. An anchor from the past?"
"I... I..."
But what could she say?
"It's all right, my love. Merely denounce him. Remember our children, my dear. They will grow up to be fine warriors for Isaac. I love you. How has it been since we last... embraced? Denounce him."
Holyn held her jealously close, nuzzling warmly against her neck while keeping his golden eyes locked on the hawk that stared back at them. His wife struggled against it, but he held her fast, protectively keeping her close to his body.
"...Remember Vah. Remember me. Remember our marriage! Damn it, Ayra, I love you! Forget this old tie to your past. Vaherianslyeri is waiting for us!"
"Let's go... back to the way it used to be. All of us."
"Would you throw away your future?"
"I died for her."
"The dead should remain in the soil."
Back and forth, her eyes flew to each.
Her heart couldn't take it. Her soul was screaming for some sort of release from this dilemma, her face streaked with tears as she grimaced.
The pain was too much.
...Too much.
============
At once, she yelled, sitting up in bed, her body trembling violently. Her lungs fought for breath, a cold sweat chilled her body, and she found that she held onto her own arms as she could not stem the tears from flowing. She rocked ever so slightly in place, ignoring the inquiring cries of her daughter in favor of trying to alleviate the ringing of voices in her ears through the overpowering gravity of silence.
...Tibarn's hand rested on her shoulder.
For the first time in their marriage, she flinched violently, turning to him with a look of horror in her eyes before, blessedly, realization finally kicked in.
Though she appeared to relax, her heart remained clenched- the kiss on his forehead was forced.
She turned her body away from him after she lay down, her eyes wide open and her body shaking as if chilled to the bone for the remainder of the night.
Ayra would not sleep well for weeks.
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