Haunted by the nightmare, the amphisbaena boil couldn't do anything to the hatable elves. He was pulled closer and closer to the vortex without notice. No one can save him. No one. Companioned by the elves' fulsome scoffing, AJ started to collapse. He began to have acousma and hallucination. In front of him, he could "see" dark figures vague but knew.
________...You're just a w-i-n-g-l-e-s-s rubblish!.....
_______________________________________________.....Look at your sister, how perfect she is.....
....We hate you, Ajax, look how many troubles you brought us....
______________________________________________________________________...Whatever you do, you are still wingless, loser! HAHAHAHAAAAA....
_____________________________..No one needs you, no one wants you....
...Why don't you just go to die?...
They surrounded him, leaving him no spaces to hide or even breathe. Even more, they teased him, they scolded him, aiming to break his heart into pieces. They targeted his weaknesses, they were merciless. The boil tried to resist at first, attempting to get rid all of it, however, he couldn't. Even he knew that it wasn't real, he was unable to escape of it. He couldn't. Those voices were like sharp arrows, penetrated his heart, leaving deep wounds that keep on bleeding. He felt the pains. He couldn't accept the "truth" that his family didn't like him at all. They don't want him. He couldn't admit that he was always alone, without any place to fit in. He couldn't believe that no matter how hard he tried, he was still nothing. However, the "truth" was in front of him. He knelt down in a feeble manner, as if losing everything already.
Why? Why couldn't he just die?
He used fighting to prove his usefulness, to show his existence. But no one cares. He entered the school to escape from his family and all the things, yet, he couldn't stop to think about it. If life is ever that miserable and arduous, why he can't just die?
Ending all the sufferings, embracing the death didn't seem a bad idea. A bitter smile formed on his face with his thought, he raised his arm to cover his eyes. The elves, now the thick tendrils grabbed on him, slowly dragging the boil towards the vortex. However, the boil wasn't care anymore. He lost all his faiths and wills to survive. He was born alone and now he was going to die alone. It was not too bad compared to the suffocating life. No one cares about him, no one will be on his side, companioning him. He never feel the warmth from anyone. Anyone.
Before he was swallowed by the vortex, he only hugged his second head and whispered. "Yep....I got you. Only you, brother...." The death was quiet and comfortable, without any teasing or chiding. No one needs him. No one. A tear seemed to drop off from his face, or was it the snow only?
Rest in peace, AJ.
Rown generated a random number between
1 and 32 ...
8!
Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 7:19 pm
Everything she ever wanted? Everything she ever needed? Ofelia could only cover her eyes as people were pulled into the vortex one by one like ants being washed down a drain. How many of those people could she had saved? How many of them did she want to save?
If she'd had the crown everything she ever wanted was hers. If she had the crown, there was nothing to fear anymore. It was in her hands, calling for her to place it on her head. It belonged there, with it she was just as protected. No one else was going to do it for her, no one else was going to protect her as well as she could, or protect others as well as she could, but then why were those she wanted vanishing?
It was like....there was something she couldn't grasp, but that was only on the fringe of her mind. Now, before her, something was spreading.
- - - -
People were slowly filing into the room like weary workers forced to march to a distant place. Some came in pairs of two or three, others solo, and from where she sat upon her throne the King Ofelia could only watch them come in. There were no royal banners to cover the windows, through which a darkened sky was leering at the gathering, no banners on the wall to insulate against the cold of the approaching seasons. There was no carpet on the ground to cushion the sounds of heeled and booted feet as they walked along the stones. It was a symphony of movement as everyone entered, all of her subjects from the entire kingdom. They'd been called one by one at her own decree, a personal summoning that she seldom did. If Ofelia wanted company she always sought it out herself, never a need to have it come to her. She was not a King who would idle in her castle and play at times on her throne. She was one who would reach out to her people, playing with them and laughing with them as relationships built and burned within her grasp.
The somber colors of her kingdom had everyone looking drab and weary regardless of their station; muted oranges and browns decorated their clothing and accessories just as it adorned her own. The only color that strayed was her crown in its elegance but even that would not matter now. The people had not assembled just for her to gather all those she treasured into a single place. It would be within these walls made of cold stone, bare to the world, that she would tell them all why they'd come. Together everyone would know what had been eating her up at night, haunting her sleep and forcing her hand at denial.
"My King." A voice called at her shoulder as she stood looking out a the grand hall and it started her from her reverie. It seemed hollow in her ears to hear that word, that title, and Ofelia's lips pursed themselves as she raised her chin in acknowledgement. She would not speak. Not yet. There were no words she could use to properly convey what she was thinking, what she was feeling. "My King, it was not your fault. All of us here, all your subjects, we understand what you tried to do for us and what we failed to do for you." The words only buzzed in her ear like the annoyance of an insect. She barely registered them after the word fault. "You did everything you could to - "
"Enough." Her words, spoken in a broken voice that sounded like plate shards shifting in the sink, rolled over the already heavy silence that enveloped the room. She kept her gaze ahead and above, willing every ounce of her being to not look at the faces just below the line of her sight. To distance herself from what was to come. There was a certain bitterness to it all, a taste both sweet and completely abhorrent to her tongue and mouth. If it had been a substance at all that was not just a feeling she would have spit it out and easily rid herself of such a trouble but it lingered long after drink and food had passed over her lips.
"But my King - " The voice spoke again more urgently. The pleading tone ground at her nerves and her will, chiseling it down piece by piece as a sculptor would a slab of marble. A gloved fist clenched itself tightly to her side as the King felt her shoulders tremble faintly beneath the mantle that had been bestowed upon her. "You need to - "
"Enough." The movement of bodies shifting into a kneel created a noise of rustling fabrics, worried murmurs, and the occasional groan of the wounded. The tourney had ended so long ago yet everyone before her still wore signs of the chaos that had come to pass; the King herself was not so lucky to escape unscathed though her wounds lurked beneath the surface. Those who had come back from it injured in a physical sense had her bitterly envious to a point of jealousy. "Did I tell you to kneel? Did I say for you all to humble yourselves before me?" The murmurs started again as faces rose to look at her with expression ranged far and wide. There was anger towards her in some faces, a secret blame that she had not done enough to protect her kingdom or her people. There was sorrow on others at their own inability to fulfill the simplest of tasks that she had asked of them, the duty and honor of raising their arms to defend their countrymen. Few others had confusion over her startled questions and commands, and some wore looks she had not seen before in her court. Were they directed at her as she continued to look above all of them or was it meant to be something else? Why couldn't she understand that expression, what was hidden inside the meaning of their looks?
"You are only delaying what you know must come, my King." A voice hissed at her other shoulder, sliding around out of her line of sight like a serpent. It was different than the buzzed words and it filled her head with a sense of foreboding. "This is your fault, even if the others say it is not. Because of your weakness someone you know and love must pay the price." The hiss turned biting and cruel as words were emphasized to stab at her conscience. Cold fingers placed themselves on the sides of her neck as the figure shifted behind and touched her flesh. Her head was forced down by the fingers, forced down so she would look at the faces of those she was going to condemn. "Do you see them all, my King? Look, look. Look at your people." It was more like being told to look at her failures, to look out at everyone kneeling before her like they were nothing more than cattle ready to be sent off to the slaughter. "Have you told them what is to come, my King? Do they even know why you have called them here?"
"I. I have not told them. I should have told them - told you all, why I have called you here so soon after tourney's end." She spoke with only the authority a King would possess yet the words did not seem to be her own. She felt like a mechanical songbird forced to mime out what had been programmed into her. "As you know we have lost the tourney. It ended with our defeat, victory narrowly in our grasp." Heads turned to look at her, nodding in agreement to her statements. The loss had been trouble for all yet everyone had born it with grace and quiet understanding. If there had been any who possessed dissent the whispers and grumblings had never reached her ears. "It is the laws of the Land, of the Tourney, that - " She didn't want to say it. As blunt as Ofelia normally was, as eager as she normally was to tell everyone anything, these words felt like as soon as she said them everything would end. She wanted to deny it all, keep it deep inside, but there wasn't a chance. "In accordance to our loss, one of you must be sacrificed in order to ensure our continued peace and prosperity." There was an outcry, louder than anything she had expected. All the people who had been on their knees got to their feet, some quicker than others, and the accusations started to fly. People were hurt and confused to which she did not blame them. Some where angry and rightfully so when the anger was directed her way. "For the sake of all of us, one of you must die. The choice is. . . .mine to make, and yours to obey."
The roar of outrage was suddenly louder than anything she'd ever heard. Everyone who had seemed so content to listen was suddenly voicing everything they ever felt, all the hatred that perhaps the King has incited in them or just petty grievances towards one another. It was like all their trying to please her before was just an effort to spare themselves the trouble but Ofelia did not fault any of them for it. She couldn't, not when she'd failed to protect them all. When one of them had to die so she could protect the rest.
"My Lord?" A voice spoke inside the rabble. It was so quiet that if Ofelia hadn't been listening she would have missed it as all the sounds around it seemed content to crashed like the tide to the shore. Who it was that spoke to her she couldn't see among the sea of faces. The subtle colors of clothing danced around as people moved and argued among themselves, starting facts about whom should be the one to fill the position. It was strange that they were arguing, none were volunteering themselves. Blame was being laid about who didn't do enough, who did too much, and who was really of worth to it all. "My lord, choose me." The voice spoke again, louder and with more clarity than a bell, and the sea of people ebbed its rolling down to a calm surface. They parted like waves to reveal a single figure, hands pressed together as they started a slow march towards the King before the throne.
"You. I - " The king knew their face, she knew their actions. A young warrior in her lands eager to make a title for themselves and start fresh. A sleepy sort of warrior who cried easily when failing yet easily turned it to success at the simplest of gestures. A kind word most often, a soft touch at the rarest. "No, not you." Ofelia shook her head. "Why? Why?"
"I have not been here long, my King, but was it not you who welcomed me into these lands? You were the first person I had come to meet, someone who reached out for me and embraced me as one of your people." A younger girl, a name still not yet known to the King. They had met before, it was true that the King had welcomed her into the lands with a meal and gentle hands, and yet. And yet? "It's okay you know, if you chose me. If it's a chance to repay you for everything you've done then its okay."
"No, it's not. This was my failure, my problem. I should - " Ofelia raised her hand to stop the speaking, to make the girl understand she was in the wrong. That the King would take the blame somehow, not her, but something echoed at the corner of her mind.
"What, make a martyr out of yourself?" The hissing voice spoke again to interrupt, determined to never let the King finish a sentence or a thought. There was no room here for self-pity or doubt, the voice would not allow it so long as it were able. "As much as I would love to see that happen, to watch you end yourself in one fell swoop, you are the King." The cruelty in the statement was outweighed vastly by the truth the words spoke of. She was the King, she was responsible. Even now she was trying to find a way out her duties like a weasel. She thought she was human but perhaps she was wrong and those whom she'd challenged in the past were right all along. She was nothing more than vermin if this was what everything came down to - the slaughter of one of her own. "If she's saying she wants to be the one, let her."
The King slumped to her knees, the fingers around her throat releasing her as they slid through her fire red hair. There was no need to continue to hold her steady, a choice had been made, and the voice retreated back where it belonged. The cries and vocal choir of her subjects died down as their king collapsed, all eyes watching the crumbled figure whom they'd sworn their fealty to. Would they understand just how fragile she really was despite all her airs? Would they understand just how much she was giving up to protect them even if it seemed she wasn't?
"Leave us." Not a body moved, all faces watching her trembling frame. A few hands were placed over mouths as nobles whispered to one another from the corners of their lips. Those were the servants could only dance on their feet, shuffling from one step to another. Had it be a command to leave or a request? None of her people wished to leave her in such a state. "I said go. Why are you still here? We will be to the execution grounds shortlySend for. . . .the hangsman, prepare the gallows." The last word choked itself on her lips as it passed but the order had been given, a choice had been made. Whether or not it had been made for her all along was something that would be talked about as the crowds parted. They left just as they'd come in, footsteps echoing down empty stone halls, and the King turned to look at the young girl. "You should just run, just get out of here. This...I didn't bring you here to let you die. I didn't defend you on the battlefields to watch you be killed because of me." There was a hiccup in her words, an angry feeling of uselessness building up like bile in the back of her throat. Her face hurt, her body hurt, and even though she was doing her best to stop she felt the warmth of tears start down her face.
"My King, don't cry." The nameless girl placed a hand on the King's face, a thumb rolling under her eye to wipe away any tears that threatened to fall. "You're our Sun, you know? Without you this whole place would be covered in shadows and nothing could grow. The sun protects the seeds and warms them, and it drives away the cold and allows people to live. It protects everyone and everything from what hides in the dark, which is far more than something like the moon does." There was a little chuckle, one that seemed more for herself than for the weeping King. Ofelia could only feel the shame rising further and further in her chest, the guilt of knowing a person whom must die for her kingdom, for her, was here trying to comfort her. It made her less of a King, less of a person, to have tears to shed when the victim of her failures was laughing mirthlessly. "Patches, really. It's okay." She wanted to wail, to run away from the room and leave the actions and choices up to those whom counseled her in the far reaches of her mind. The name Patches was what she'd called her when they first met, the King wearing little more than her travel clothes and familiar eye patch. The name had become endearing to Ofelia even if it had not been used past that point, so to hear it spoken now only had her wishing she could flee and take the girl with her.
"Should we place her in cuffs to prevent her from running away?" Someone approached from the crowd towards the young girl with irons in their hands and a face set serious. Ofelia rose to her feet and stepped in front of the youth, her stance strong and her height shielding her from view. "My King?" A strong wave of the King's hand had them all stepping back at the sudden use of authority and strength that had long thought to been gone to moment she dropped to her knees.
"I will personally escort her to the gallows. A person so honorable as to willingly give their life for all of us in this kingdom should not have to bear the disgrace of being shackled like a common criminal." She looked at the girl and held out her hand, her palm raised upward with fingers splayed. "Let us go." The guards backed down as the younger girl took the King's hand, their steps falling them in line behind the pair. It was silly to see, one figure who was royalty bent over and weeping like a punished child, and the commoner warrior who stood proudly as she walked hand in hand to her death.
The gallows loomed before the King and her Choice as they walked, the crowds from the throne room swiftly filing themselves out before the wooden beams. It was disgusting to see them so eager to watch a comrade fall; they were likely pleased that it was not them who would taste the punishment that had been decided long ago. Of course it was wrong of her to think that at all about all of them. To lump in those few who would mourn the loss of anyone with any who had compassion only for themselves was the angry thoughts of a monarch who was suffering from her own blinded judgment. She wanted to scream at them for being willing to accept this, for not wanting to openly blame her and fault her for being unable to protect them all, yet her throat seemed to seize itself shut before her words could even form.
"You know I...never asked for your name. It's funny, I was there to welcome you into my kingdom and yet not once did I bother to ask who you were." Massive wooden steps rose up to meet their feet as the journey stopped, temporarily halting as mist seemed to seep from the ground to accompany them onward. The young girl only smiled at the King and took a step up, either unwilling to answer or unable to answer. What difference would knowing her name do now? Was it because if the King knew she'd mourn her?
The silence remained as they reached the top of the gallows, the hands parting as the Choice was lead away. The hangman was ready and prepared, rope in his hands, and he bound the hands of the willing girl behind her back as they continued to walk towards the trap door. She was not offered a hood for her face, not just yet, and the rope that was her executioner was slipped over her head. The King could only watch from where she stood, her teeth biting so deeply into her lip that it drew blood.
This was to protect her kingdom, she knew it deep down. For the sake of all, one had to die. For the sake of protecting those she loved and treasured, one had to die.
"My King?" The noose tightened itself around the girl's neck as the hangman adjusted it. His heavy boots echoed on the platform as he crossed over to the King's side. Gloved fingers teased against a wooden lever well worn with age, not use. His trade had not been used enough for such a thing, not in a kingdom such as this. A look to Ofelia had him asking, the time so near that everyone below the gallows seemed to draw their breath as one. "At your call, my King."
Ofelia nodded and parted her lips, her voice speaking not as crying girl who was being protected but as the King who was doing what she could for her people. "Any last words?"
"Patches, smile. Bring out the sunshine and drive this mist away."
The hood was placed over her face.
The lever was pulled.
The rope snapped and bounced at the sudden weight and stop.
The voices of the crowd ended with exclamations that rushed to a hushed silence and faint cries.
Someone sobbed softly. Ofelia knew the voice to be her own.
The King buried her face in her hands for a moment, the tips of her fingers pressing against her temple as though hurting herself would make this all end. It was a foolish dream to think that by covering her eyes everything would be fine once she opened them. This was not a child's game were peeking through one's fingers was an acceptable form of hiding from the truth. Ofelia was not a child nor had she been in a long time. There was no chance to lose her innocence here, the gray eye she sported long since jaded by everything that she'd seen in her life, but as the King watched the body sway against the rope she wondered just what it was she'd been protecting.
She was their Sun. The young girl had said that. She hadn't said that it was alright because she was their King, a title that now rang so empty and poisonous it was more of a burden than anything else. The child whose body was now being swallowed by the mists had said it was alright because a Sun protected things, a sun could make it grow. Ofelia had wanted to counter and say the sun was harsh, it burned everything in its path and left damage and blight in its wake, but there were no words to be said now.
"This had to happen in order for you to understand." The voice from before hissed at her side again. "This had to happen to let you know you cannot always protect everything, that you were not meant to protect everything." Cold hands on her shoulders, cold arms around her body pulled Ofelia into an embrace from behind. "This will happen again, and again. You are the King, you will call for this always. You are a Sun, you will force this always."
"You're right, I am a Sun." The King moved her hands and placed them on the arms that bound her against the truth, against a harsh reality where everything was bleak and cold. The mist was ever spreading from the gallows like a blanket that wished to cover everything in its path "But this will not happen again, not while I breathe. I am the Sun, I am their King." The hands were pulled free as Ofelia turned to look at the voice, at the figure of a woman who so cruelly taunted her moments of life. "I will protect them from anything and everything. From themselves, from me. From you. I will use force if I need to, I will become a blight on this land and others if for the sake of all of them." The King shook her head and looked back down at the gallows for what she swore would be the last time. "I will protect them all. This shall never pass again."
"That is fine, my King, so long as you understand." The woman-figured placed a hand on her chest and bowed. "But who will protect you?"
THE BLUE CROWN OF PROTECTION
Rown
Friendly Hunter
Offline
LOLTERNATIVE
Super Trash
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 7:39 pm
Sophie squeezed Alex's hand as he spoke to her. His words were comforting and she believed every word he said. She had no reason not to. But at the same time, she was worried. What did he have to explain? The tone of his voice, the eagerness as well as the hesitation. Whatever it was, it was clearly important and something that he struggled with. She puffed up, trying to look a lot stronger than she was - a lot stronger than she felt. Whatever it was, she'd deal with it when the time came. Assuming the time ever came.
Once again, the boil let go of her hand and like that he was snatched away. It was fast and it took Sophie a few moments to realise he wasn't there anymore. Only when he was screaming for her did she begin to move. It was faint but there was no way the ghoul wouldn't recognise it. She scowled and ran in the direction. Stupid idiot! Hadn't he learnt yet? She hadn't listened to him to start with and there was no way she was going to start now. The strength of the vortex was stronger now. It was sucking in everything; snow, bodies, weapons. Sophie stumbled and tripped towards it, eyes squinting in the fog for any sigh of her brother.
"Alex!" She called into the confusion; wondering if he would even hear her. She wasn't sure she could hear herself at this point. But still, she moved towards that vortex; loud and unknown as it was yet the ghoul was completely unafraid. She'd told herself she might not survive this - made herself believe it so that if it happened, she wouldn't stop. She wouldn't turn back and try to run away. She'd keep trying. But in all her preparation, she was naive. Because nothing could prepare her for the actual fact. Nothing could prepare her for the feeling of being sucked into what felt like nothingness.
The moment seemed to go on forever. Time slowed and nothing else existed around Sophie. Though she was certain the sounds around her were deafening, she heard nothing. No screams for help; no familiar voices. Nothing. And then in a flash, every person she'd ever met zoomed past her and the ghoul could have sworn she felt them touch her on the shoulder; telling her it would be okay. Alex, Bells, Mort, Xiu. All of them, warm smiles of reassurance. The ghoul clutched onto her bag, a brilliant smile crossing her features despite the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. She was going to die but it wasn't so bad. She'd made friends; found a family. And they were all here with her now, pushing her forward, holding her hands, embracing her and taking her down the vortex with them.
Before it happened, the ghoul saw nothing. She was oblivious to it all. "Let's go home," she whispered before the vortex swallowed her whole; leaving nothing behind.
chiickadee generated a random number between
1 and 32 ...
24!
Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 7:42 pm
The moment the elves disappeared, Ami reached for Kat, trying to keep the girl close, attempting to shield her from the cold artic that blasted their faces with icy breezes. Her fingers intertwined with air and insanity. Looking back to Julie, the creature wore a sinister smile, one that chilled Ami to the bone. Yet Ami's eyes didn't meet Julie's smile, or even her face. Her eyes were glued to the crowns clutched in Julie's fingers. The crowns glinted, reflected the greed she felt in her heart. She wanted that crown.
"Amalie, take it." A crisp voice with a slight New York accent rang out in the fog. Ami's head cracked like a whip towards the voice, expecting to find some sort of strange marionetted Julie using her voice as though with ventriloquy. Something macabre, probably with bugs dangling from her every orifice- insanity would do that.
Instead, she was shocked to find a mirror image of herself holding a dainty blue crown on a pillow of white. Alarm came over her, seeing the crown, thinking of Kat and Lex and the rest of the hunters. Where had they all disappeared to? Were they safe?
Ami realized she wasn't safe. Fog, insanity. Ami couldn't protect Kat- she couldn't even protect herself. Her FEAR shield was flickering with each breath she took, the rise of her chest synchronized with her power- or lack thereof. She had no weapon to keep them safe, no bravado to back up her promise to Kat- useless to the core. The weakness gormandized her mind like a parasite, making a mockery of the confidence she'd built up in the past month or so.
"Take it," the voice repeated, as a siren's call. "And everything you wish will be yours. No one will question you because you-"
Hesitation. It had to be a trick, a lark, an artifice. She knew it did. Nothing came without a price, and ultimate power had to have a steep one.
Tiny fingers curled around the crown nonetheless, fingertips stinging lightly from the cold metal. Insanity's silence was speedily replaced with polite clapping as two sheet white doors made of ice opened before her. Stewards scurried around, ushering her into place. It wasn't uproarious by any means, but controlled and reverent. She walked forward to find her grimy, freezing hunter gear replaced with a flowing black and blue gown that sparkled with gemstones and precious crystals. King. King of this land.
As her heels tapped across the ice, it dawned on her that not one of her subjects was smiling wholeheartedly. The smiles compulsory, forced by her presence, the bows meant out of respect instead jeered at her and created a fool of her. Strangely, she didn't dislike it. There was something about the attention she soaked up, as a sponge with water, and a thin smile crossed her face. The fake smiles were reflected in the ice that covered the room from floor to ceiling, save for the patches of black that came from rich silk banners waving above the crowd. The entire room was bathed in royal blue and black. Rigid frost crept along spires shot up at the sky while convoluted chandeliers spiraled down from ceiling, as though they sat in an enormous set of jaws that could snap shut at any moment. It was an elaborate throne room, fit only for the endlessly complicate woman that claimed it as her own.
All was silent in the hall as she reached her throne, turning to face the crowd with a flourished sweep of her dress. She looked over the people of her icy kingdom with absolute apathy. Not a single expression betrayed her emotion as her breath came out in even puffs of fog. Her nose and cheeks held the only warmth in the room, red from the freezing temperature. For a moment, she simply stood there, not particularly recalling why she was here, too blinded by thoughts of her own to see the reason in front of her.
"My king, it is time for the elimination."
She took a deep breath, memory returning to her. "Yes, for that is why we have gathered, is it not?" Her voice held nothing, but her mind was a full carafe of guilt. She'd lost the tournament. It was her fault. Power had a price, and now she was the one who had to pay. Debts, ones that could only be payed in crimson blood splashed upon the floor.
Out the window, she saw a barren land of pure ice. It wasn't the soft snowfall that so many wrote poems about, it was hard, cruel ice capped by harsh blizzards. Her kingdom.
"It is time for you to choose one of your subjects. It is time for the execution."
"Who will step forward?" Ami asked the crowd, eyes level, meeting the tops of heads. She wanted to scream at the crowd, tell them not to go. There wasn't a face in the crowd she didn't value above her own life.
Yet she didn't volunteer herself. Like everyone standing in the room, anxiously anticipating her decree, Ami had a role. To be a king meant hardship. It meant fulfilling a job that others would be hesitant to take. For every person that was sacrificed, there had to be a person weighed down with the guilt of ordering the execution.
As was custom, a row of faces greeted her, pushed forward by guards. Wilson, the royal alchemist. Katherine, a duchess of the castle. Tori, a librarian, Madeline the war general. Lex, an innkeeper from another town that had made his stay and got swept up in the madness. Minerva, a court mistress adorned with beautiful jewels, Feng, a peasant. Marcus, the royal advisor. A handful of faces presented themselves to her, all with various degrees of defiance.
"For the greater good. In order to save everyone, your kingdom, you will need to sacrifice one. Only once this time, just once. Next time, it may be different."
Ami let the words roll over her, as a wave crashes on the rocks. It wouldn't be different next time, no. Not just once, either. If she lost again, they would always come, demanding sacrifices. Again and again, almost on schedule as she continued to lose. It would proliferate, snowballing until none of her kingdom remained. Such was the way of kings. Those who lost were eliminated, those who won remained.
"Minerva," she called out crisply into the large room. The crowd rocked with varying levels of responses. Some rippled with relief, others shouted defiance and mutiny. Two guards came, roughly shackling Minerva's wrist with pieces of ice. Ami lingered in apathy, watching the faces of the lineup twist and contort, her own stomach churning as it happened. Her eyes met Lex's, the eeriest of all. He didn't hail from her kingdom, so these customs must have seemed cruel, barbaric even. The confusion in his eyes stung her, as she realized she'd numbed herself to these ceremonies long ago. How wonderful it must have felt to bathe in the waters of humanity, shielded from the cruel give and take that being a king entailed.
She wondered if these citizens understood the reason for the sacrifice. If there was no sacrifice, warring tribes wouldn't be appeased. Even their barren, icy tundra wasn't impenetrable. If there was no sacrifice, there would be war. A kingdom as small as Ami's couldn't afford a war. They would lose. Countless would be lost. Ami bore the weight of hatred to assuage the ghosts that haunted her throne room, the rallying cries that echoed off its walls, calling for blood. She would bare it all to protect her people.
The hall quickly emptied, leaving Ami to sit on her throne of ice, not a single thought occupied her head for the poor Minerva girl, the one who not five minutes ago Ami had sent to her death. Instead, Ami's fingers twisted around a blackened ring on her finger. A single hand went to the crown on her head.
Those who won remained.
Ami would remain.
[ THE BLUE CROWN OF PROTECTION ]
chiickadee
Offline
Syusaki
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 8:07 pm
For the most part, Jay could care less about the hunters and students that fell into the vortex. She cast a sad look toward the horsemen dragged in by the thick tendrils, but most of the faces were not dear to the bluejay. Instead, she turned her head toward the figure standing above the pit. Sea-green eyes narrowed suspiciously as she heard her own twittering voice tumble out of the stranger’s mouth. Fog surrounded the two. Jay raised a hand toward her misty doppelganger. “You’re strange.” Her clone smiled and merely brandished a crown, an offer of power. She didn’t even have to finish her words before the bird grabbed the crown.
No hesitation. She wanted the power for herself to prove she was not stupid or weak. Perhaps she would lose herself, her sense of childish laughter and fun, but there would always be a price to pay.
Jay relished the sounds of cheering, cheering that she undoubtedly knew was for her and her alone. The smiles and joyous shouts were for no one, but the King. There was no need for her loyal subjects to urge her toward her throne. She stretched out her bright blue wings, forcing the crowd to step away from her and create a road. She smiled as she waved the crowd even further away, until their backs were pressed against the marble walls decorated with tapestries and paintings and lavish curtains. It was a hilarious sight to see, considering the ridiculous size of the room. Jay could easily hold multiple spars inside the room and it wouldn’t be a stretch to practice hunting small birds within the area. The ceiling itself was covered in intricate paintings and held multiple chandeliers of various sizes. Bigger was always better, after all.
“That’s better,” she sang as she trailed down the golden carpet. Her sandals beat against the polished floor as she ascended the large set of stairs. The bluejay hummed, happily unfurling her wings once more and crossing one leg over the other with a flourish. She wiggled in her seat, sinking deeper into the plush chair encrusted with jewels and precious metals. She snapped her fingers. “The next order of business?”
Her subjects scattered around like ants while she was the one towering over them all. She watched the insects create a line while someone called out for Jay to choose a queen. The King frowned, one elbow propped on an armrest with a cheek pressed against said elbow. Who dared to tell her of all people to pick a queen right now? She sighed, leaned into her throne. Well, she supposed now was an apt time to deliberate over her choices. A King could not be without its Queen, after all. “Very well,” she agreed reluctantly. Her free arm gestured for the line to step closer, but immediately held out a hand once it reached the base of the stairs. “That’s quite enough.”
They were tiny faces from her viewpoint, but she could still see their definitive features. Some were more recognizable than others, but each candidate at least evoked a name and vague memories. “Hmmmm.” Jay rose from her seat and everyone else within the room knelt back down. She smiled icily as she walked to the back of her chair and stared out the single large window within the room. It couldn’t even be called a room when it took up one entire wall, but the King held no regret about it. With it, she could admire the sprawling jungles of her kingdom that towered over everyone whenever she pleased. She could stare at the golden leaves sparkling under the scorching sun and pale yellow sky. She was mere steps away from walking into the garden filled with exotic shrubs and flowers, some with the sweetest fragrances and some with the most lethal of poisons. If she could walk past the window glass she could hear birds tweeting and animals roaring, howling, shrieking as they preyed on any lost straggler that dared to enter the jungle alone.
Her domain was a jungle filled with humongous roots, plants and animals of all varieties, a place where only the strongest survived. Only the best of the best could dare to walk her kingdom unscathed; that was her pride. The King smiled as she watched a straggler from another kingdom stroll around her forest. He wouldn’t be strolling for long.
The glass muffled his startled cries as she turned around and gave the line of subjects another look. Mengyao had pride, but too much pride. She refused to butt heads with her queen. She wanted someone loyal, obedient. Jay quirked an eyebrow at the twins. Picking one meant picking the other, but only one Queen could exist at a time. Mahir made for a fine soldier, but still retained a cool distance away from her. Could the King trust him as the Queen? Shikoba too, was skilled, but possessed the same problem as Mahir. She hummed as her eyes went up and down the line up. She had to choose carefully. The greatest King needed the greatest Queen and nothing less in order to win the next tournament. Her kingdom was the strongest and the best. It deserved victory.
Hands folded behind her back, Jay smiled as she finally descended the staircase. “Lan,” she called out as she offered her hand to the blond. “Out of everyone here, I know you the most, and you’re indeed a fine fighter and strategist, someone who will obey me without fail.” The King grinned. “Do not fail me.”
Yellow Crown of Pride
Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 8:12 pm
[SOLO HERE]
Shia bean
Prophet
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demon_pachabel generated a random number between
1 and 32 ...
19!
demon_pachabel
Beloved Werewolf
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 8:19 pm
"Do you think you can take care of everybody?" She smiled back at herself, and the hunter clutched her own chest, her brows furrowing together. "Yes." she answered. "Like Petra?" Guilt. The phantom lifted up the crown she was holding, offering a sickly grin. "Bet you'd like to see if you could." she challenged herself. That image of losing her cool struck her again.
Cass took a deep breath and reached out for that crown of blue.
The sky was the bluest she had seen in a long time. The only color of sky she really remembered as of late was covered in fog and clouds, mountains skewing the view. No. That was a lie. This sky had always been so expansive above her, and Cass stood out on the rooftop pavilion, her hands extended up towards it with a content sigh. It was so peaceful. Peaceful, but not quiet. She could hear their voices below her, and she stepped carefully towards the edge of the pavilion, looking down as the building spiraled downwards, each floor like a step in a staircase that looked up towards her. A helix - like the life that built up their very beings. Each step carved in a very simple manner, homes made out of the very rock they stood on. There was no grandeur - only stone, clouds, and birds. An anchor to things that sought freedom.
Even below, all she could see was the sky. No, the earth itself lay behind her, A world that lay on its side, facing all directions and yet keeping its very opposite at a stand still to them. Gravity was a pointless thing, after all.
King. King. They called her king, and she covered her mouth to try and mask her embarrassment at such a title. She recognized some faces more easily than others - behind her, even, sat her dearest, stone faced and serious in the name of public show, unmoving from his seat. Her anchor.
"It is time for the elimination." someone called out to her - reminding. Cass's chest twisted up, no longer needing to mask the look on her face as she grimaced. It was like a stone had been thrown into her gut, pulling everything into a deep bit that reminded her of the fact that she was not the perfect guardian. She could not protect everything by keeping it above the earth as she did. The earth was not the only force that tried to shake them, after all.
"It is time for the execution." the voice reminded further. Was someone actually calling out for her? She wasn't sure if something within her was reminding her of what she already knew - the tournament. Her folly. Had it been the red kingdom? Or perhaps the gold. It certainly had not been the white. Their places fell into mind easily.
But they had lost, and she had to make someone pay that price for her - that price in her place. She had tried to guard them, to reason that perhaps she should be the one to fall for failure, but her Queen had insisted otherwise. Her people had insisted otherwise. If her arms weren't there to wrap around them all in defense. They would not be safe without her.
Volunteers? She would have been pained to make any offer themselves for her, yet one voice did speak up - "To keep things clean, you know I am best suited." Cass's lips tightened. Oh, she knew who it was. She didn't even need to see the young man, his goggles, his blond hair, his neat appearance. Melvin.
Cass shook her head, "No I-" she tried to not choke up at the decision she knew she wouldn't be able to make - and apparently he knew it too. "I volunteer as tribute, to spare both you and the others." Cass turned and looked back at him. This was her fault. This was what happened because she just...and she couldn't. Was he eager because she was a King, or because it was her? She didn't know him.
Did she?
She knew all of them, in some way. Faces in the hallways, faces on the battlefield. She didn't want to part with any of them, but....
Cass took a single shuddering breath. "Then tomorrow." she answered finally, still looking distressed. She wouldn't fight it longer - because she knew she'd never make her mind on her own. But she wouldn't leave it there. "Tomorrow. Tonight, we must have one final..." celebration. She couldn't say it. "We must honor a life that has been well lived." she finally said. But it seemed so somber - as it should have been.
The sky had not protected them this time, but next time they would make due. THE BLUE CROWN OF PROTECTION
Bloodlust Dante generated a random number between
1 and 32 ...
29!
Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 8:26 pm
Of all the things that Leon expected to face at the center of the madness, the vision of his own face, his own image was not expected, startling. “Are you sure you can protect what matters to you most?” he inquired at his doppelganger. Like a cruel form of speech practice in a mirror, the life hunter tightened his grip. The stern glare was set in place as the clone continued on. “Your division, your friends, Madison, yourself?” It quivered in his own tone of voice, a voice that felt weird coming from anyone else. A horrible nagging that made the brunette feel nothing by unease with the implications that he was not strong enough.
The challenge was thrown down, and Leon would not let the mist doppelganger get the best of him. He’s show him, he’d show himself what he was made of. All he had to do was reach for the crown, the crown of azure that barely touched his fingertips.
The courtyard was blessed with the purest of blue skies, no wispy tendril of white to mar the view above. Just sunshine and a view of the heavens as far as the eye could see. The air was crisp and clean, the wind was at a light ruffle enough to stir clothing. The day was beautiful for the eve of the festival tournament. The days of this year’s battle was nearing the end, of when those who did not participate drank and be merry and cheer for their king’s chosen ones. The few that were proud enough to be the king’s hand. The courtyard of the city was filled with food and ale, the smell of meat on the grill ran abundant, the dogs that begged for scraps from every table. The music that flitted above the hundreds of partygoers made step light and sweet as they pranced over the cobblestone floor. The sounds of children squealing with delight as the king’s own jester kept them occupied with feats of wonder and charm, the little yes that would be the next generation of lords and serfs to their lordship.
His lordship did not enter yet, but when Leon stepped out of the carriage, the man was assaulted by the cries of his loyal kingdom. Cheers and hollers for their returned king washed over him like a wave of honor. It humbled him to walk amongst his people, patting the shoulders of those he used to work with to make the city as strong as it was. Still his step had a dragging motion to it, not even the cheers of joy from his people could make the weight in his heart any lighter as he strode gracefully and proudly into his own quarters to hold court. Rich tapestries of silver, grey and blue lined the hall and the windows, the few who served his court were adorned in the house colors as well from the plume of their capes, to the painted steel on their shields and armor. They were his advisors, his knights, and his army. His. Upon his arrival, they began the motion of ushering him in, sweeping bows that went from front of the lines, to the back of the hall, it was a grand welcome as he smiled and waved it off. “My liege lord, welcome back.” A stocky man greeted him, taking his dusty cloak off his shoulders and handing it off to a servant boy to take to the tailor of the court with haste. The man’s jowls quivered with each word, but his heart was in the right place. If only his nose was as well and out of his hindquarters, it would have been ideal for the proud men of war. “Thank you Ser “ Leon replied back, warmly, moving up toward his place on the silver throne.
The polished place of honor that he missed upon his travels from the tournament. It was a grand display when he first sat on it, proudly, to listen to his subjects and their concerns and plights. Now the seat felt like his shackle, the ball and chain made of glistening, polished grey that bore the weight of his kingdom, and the lives that depended on his whims and his failures. While the greeting was kind and warm, everything else about the hall grew cold as court commenced. They all knew of the results from the tourney and what it meant. It was a loss, a over sight that cost him a loss and to lose face among the other kingdoms. The common man did not know what the loss meant, how Leon envied their ignorance. They did not have to sacrifice a noble person’s life because of the loss. How could they know?
The grin look on his face continued when his squire came up with the parchment in hand, the piece of paper that had three important lines left to be filled. “Your lordship, you need to decide who it is.” Was all Lex mentioned and placed the document on the pedestal before bowing away from the throne. All it had left to fill was the name of the sacrifice, their signature and the seal of the king. The plaque of the chainsaw that was reduced to the size of a stamp that sat in Leon’s pocket. For such a tiny item, he knew that it weighed as much as his throne. “Please your lordship, we need your decision.” Lex ushered again, politely.
“I’m sorry; such a important choice does have ramifications here.” Leon began. “It is someone’s life on the line.” He stated, all because he was too weak to protect them. It left a bitter taste in his mouth to send someone to the chopping block. It was the price of kinship. “Is there anyone here who offers themselves to the gods that control us?” Leon asked allowed, standing from his throne to his countrymen. “I know it is much to ask of me, but I wish to give someone the chance at offering themselves, before I am forced to make the choice upon anyone. “ Leon knew he had to give someone the chance, a death by volunteering was a great honor, an honor to those who did it with a noble heart.
There would be no loss of title, it would go on to their heir, their spouse and child would be a ward of the court, taken care of, a chance to preserve their honor. Execution by any other means was nothing but a dishonor. Either way it was a life wasted, but at least this way, the weight would remain on his own heart, not anyone else’s. Leon was used to bearing that weight. “Is there anyone?” again, the hall fell into a hush, silent and unmoving.
“I volunteer.” The voice was meek, the hand that shot up into the air was followed again with the same phrase, but with a stronger conviction. “I will volunteer.” It took Leon a moment to recognize the face in the sea of people but the name came to mind. “Lady Solia, are you sure you wish to do this?” Leon inquired again, having the weapon master brought to the front of the hall to him. “our knights lost because I failed to train them better, the fault of this defeat lies on my hands. It is only fair.” The vixen answered back.
It never ceased to amaze Leon how strong his people were, even in the eyes of future doom, they were still strong, loyal and above all, brave. “Then let us sign and make it final.” Leon returned back in a grim tone when Lex brought the parchment between them on a slate. It didn’t take long for the signatures to be complete and the tiny wooden seal to be dipped in blue wax to bind the document in his name. but it was over, the choosing was complete. It did nothing to ease the painful aura in the room. “What you have done for this country shall not be forgotten, not by your kinsmen or their offspring.” Leon assured her, while he waxed poetically of her noble choice. “Let the festival continue for two more days, in the name of the king so let it be done.” He ordered from his place on the throne after kissing the back of Solia’s hand. The cries in unison of “In the name of the king, so let it be.” Returned back to his ears, the symbol that court was done for the day and the hall resumed in their separate duties. There were still homes that needed to get their paperwork authorized for repairs, bills still needed to be assessed, a vault that still needed to be counted and an army to keep strong after the brutal loss.
“As for you, lady Solia.” Leon began, the voice more quiet and personal than that of the loud and prominent king. “Go, be with your family, enjoy every moment from not until the execution.” He pleaded with her, not as her king but as her former comrade. “In the name of the king so let it be.” She added back, politely before bowing and went off. It left Leon alone, alone sitting in the chair with his thoughts on what will come from all this. Another death that had to be done by his own hands and weapon. It was the price of becoming king, the power to protect and the grief when thou cannot.
The two cycles of the sun and moon came far too quickly for Leon. It was noon, the ball of fire was high in the sky. the good fortune of clear skies was not with the king this day, trails of white and grey slipped out over the scenery, the overcast did nothing to guard his heart from the chopping block in the private part of the courtyard, away from the mess of the common folk left in its wake to be cleaned in the morrow. Right now there was a bigger mess to deal with.
lady solia rested her head on the block, dressed in her best blues from head to toe. Not a sign of puffy eyes and redness from what he could see. "Is it time my lord?" she asked from her spot on the chopping block, her head was turned away from the flock of witnesses, and the tiny tarp that shield the brutality of what would occur was in place, fluttering against the breeze. Only two days ago it felt wonderful, not it was harsh, unrelenting and cruel.
it took Leon a moment to sort his feelings, a chance of cough and find his voice before speaking. "it is." he wished it wasn't. "do you have any last words?" He continued, giving all courtesy to the situation. it took the noble girl a moment, but she did choose to speak again. "Just keep our kingdom strong , my lordship. Never let us falter." she pleaded,
The Broadsword in leon's hands only got heaver with her last words. 'That i promise you Solia, I shall." he stated boldly to her when she rested her head against the cool surface and let out a breathy chuckle "In the name of the king, so let it be."
There were no more words to be said after that, just a steeling of nerves and a mighty swing.
The witnesses all wined once steel made connection to flesh and bone, the squelching sound was more than enough for those that never stepped foot on the battlefield. what they did see was their king covered in blood as the ground around the body began to seep in crimson.Solia was no more. Never again, Leon knew it for a fact, he never wanted to see this happen again.
“This place is a kingdom of blue, I vow to never let the red of blood, mar its surfaces ever again, In the name of the king, so let it be."
THE BLUE CROWN OF PROTECTION
Bloodlust Dante
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OnionGrump
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 8:44 pm
Ryan cursed. In spite of their struggles to fight off the elves and evade the darkness, it was growing larger. Even now, he could see the black tendrils creeping out, reaching and grabbing their victims before dragging them back, one by one, and swallowing them whole. An immediate death. One he imagined he was next in line for. After all, with no strength to resist it, it would be easy. But it never came for him.
Had he been spared?
It was silent now. No one was around, not even Julie. Everyone was gone, leaving only himself and--himself?
"I have what you desire." The figure---the other Ryan said, speaking his own voice and offering to him an item. The crown. There was a shrill buzzing in the background, but he ignored him, but it was ignored. His attention was on the crown. "Take it." It--he offered again. "Take it, and everything you wish will be yours. Noone will question you because you-"
The sound of cheering was the first thing that reached his ears.
There was a crowd of people gathered in the streets below and all of them cheering. But what he didn't understand was that everyone--every single one of them had their eyes on him. What for? Had he done something to be deserving of their praise? From the state of their kingdom, the ruined shadow of what he assumed it was meant to be, he would have thought they would be grieving. Instead they were cheering as though they had been saved, when clearly they had lost. He couldn't understand it and unable to bear it any longer, he retreated back, into throne room.
It was a humble room, filled with only the barest of necessities and yet, he sensed the comfort in it. Though now it lay in shambles like the rest of the kingdom.
What had happened to it?
A 'clink' of metal against stone sounded behind him, alerting him to the presence of-- "Wilson?"
"I am sorry my king."
Ah, that's right. He remembered now. The course of events that led to the kingdom's ruin, what Wilson was sorry for and why he had been summoned here.
"Don't be." He heard himself saying, surprising himself. "It has to be done and you don't need to be so formal. In fact, I prefer it if you wouldn't." There was a small smile on his face as he walked across the room, examining its shattered ruins. How many times had he come here to ease his mind. To escape the burden of being king and all of its responsibilities? Even now, in the state it was, he feel the stress in his mind slowly easing away. It was the best location for what was to come.
"It is time," Wilson prompted. "This is the end you are seeking."
Was it?
It was true in a sense, what Wilson said. It was a choice he made himself, as king. But he didn't desire it. Should he find a better alternative, he would have taken it. But there wasn't any and time was up. But... did they care? Save for a few of the councilmen and Wilson, one of his closest friends, no one had really made any objections to his decision. In fact, under those masks of grief and sorrow, he sensed relief. Relief that it would be him to fulfill this task and not themselves. Was that how it was? Was this all he was to them--to the kingdom? Was he merely a scapegoat, someone to be used in times of need to insure their survival. Would they even remember him and the sacrifice that was made in order to save them, to preserve their way of life? Or would he be a thing of the past. A memory doomed to fade and eventually forgotten.
The thoughts threatened to spread doubt and fear into his mind, causing Ryan to quickly suppress them, lest it showed on his face. It was hard, but to insure it wouldn't he feigned a smile, a friendly face. A mask he had become accustomed to wearing these past years in the face of his people. Though it might as well have been made of glass when facing his friend.
"For the greater good," Wilson whispered in a grim tone, as if trying to convince himself of what needed to be done. "In order to save everyone, a sacrifice has to be made."
"For the greater good," Ryan repeated. "and the good of the people." He finished. A reminder. To remind him what was at stake. Kingdoms could always be rebuilt, but if he backed out of this now, it would be the people who would suffer. That's right. This wasn't the time to be selfish. Remembered or forgotten, it didn't matter. Someone had to die in order for the kingdom to survive. It was the unavoidable truth.
He turned to face Wilson. One of the few people he had come to rely on over the years and the one person he had entrusted with his final command.
"I'm ready."
Someone would surely die, but it wouldn't be his people. If someone were to be made a sacrifice, it would be the one that had lead them. The one who had failed them. As king and ruler, he would die for his kingdom and his people.
"Goodbye, my king." The sword came around in an arc, striking him swiftly and leaving no room for pain before the darkness engulfed him.
He could rest now. He had no regrets. He had lived, fought for, and defended his kingdom and the people he had loved, and now he had died for them too.
THE WHITE CROWN OF CLARITY
Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 9:13 pm
Gene had never fallen to the fog, and it seemed that today would be the same. Seeing the elves become tendrils shocked the ghoul; seeing them pull others into the void grieved her. She supposed it was inevitable when dealing with Insanity – that some should fall to it. The grey fog always overwhelmed the weaker ones, those who couldn’t bear it, those who felt like their suffering was too much of a burden to bear. They were gone in an instant, as always.
The apparition in the middle left once it had absorbed its prey, leaving Gene and the fog. The ghoul was about to walk away from the place, when a voice called out that made her head reel. Anger, confusion, pain, sorrow, reluctance, and fear all hit her at the same time like little lightning bolts that made their way to her core and shattered it into a million little figurative fragments.
I have what you desire.
Her voice, her inflection. Another apparition stood before her, holding a crown of white. She could make out the silhouette, and it was smiling. The half creature made of fog was her, a doppelganger of a doppelganger. The crown glowed a brilliant white in defiant contrast to the fog, screaming to be seen by the real, non-Insanity made ghoul. Her eyes were fixed on it, her focus honed in. It was like before, with the red crown; all she could see was the object.
Something shrill, annoying and invasive went off in the background. A warning for her to get away, the small part of her telling her to rip herself away from the crown? She ignored it, pushing the noise out of her mind and focusing back in on the crown that was held in front of her.
Take it.
Her arms stretched out towards the white crown, thoughts rushing to her head. Concern for her friends wormed its way into her mind first, followed by self-concern. Would she lash out at her friends again after exposure to the crown? Would she hurt anyone? What if she didn’t take it though? What if she didn’t take the crown, and was powerless to stop someone from hurting one of her friends? What if the one who took the crown hurt her?
No, she needed it. For her friends, and for herself.
Cheers erupted as her hands touched the crown, cheers of a people for their king.The king that had failed them, the king that had scorned their pride and lost everything. Their cheers urged their king forward to her final, and only good, decision.
She entered the throne room alone in a simple white dress; face veiled by a white satin cloth that was secured by her crown. The throne room had once been a place of nobility and prestige with its white washed walls and spiraling columns that connected the domed ceiling to the white stone floor. Subtle grooves had once been carved in the floor, all stemming from what was once a glorious, high backed white throne. Those things were of old, however. The throne room was now in ruins, and very much not white, turned grey by the dust of broken columns and the broken ceiling. Rays of light filtered through the crack in the dome, illuminating the way to the throne – which was no more than a crumbling stool now – along the shattered floor. She sat on her dead throne, legs crossed, as she thought of her old kingdom.
The Pure Kingdom, her realm had once been called, a small kingdom nestled along the shore made wealthy by trade of pearls and ships. Everything in the kingdom was made of whitewashed stone, from the thick walls and towers that bordered the capitol to the smallest of hovels in the village. She’d laid out the kingdom in a simple and neat order – the village was the first place one would enter after finding passage through the whitewashed gates, and thereafter they would find the capitol. The village held the fishermen and the ship builders, and a few small shops for those just passing through. The majority of her kingdom was held in the capitol, with the market square directly in the middle and the castle at the far south end, directly opposite of the gate to the main city. All the buildings were square, tight and orderly. Everything about the kingdom was pristine and pure, until they lost the Tournament.
Now, a sacrifice had to be made.
Turning her head, she saw the white clad male standing beside behind her. She’d seen him when she had come in, and held a private smile under her veil. Of course, it had to be him. The Woflos had always been behind her, supporting her every action – even this last act. He held the honor, the privilege, of being the one to slaughter the lamb.
She felt betrayal for a split second as she gave him a last look, still smiling. He could have said no, he could have protested; offered himself in her place, even.
But she repressed the feeling, told it to go away. This had to be the way; this would save her people and her kingdom. With this last choice, she was empowering them to rebuild and restore, to rise up and redeem them. It had to be this way, it had to be her, and it had to be him.
A final sigh and a small nod that only the Wolfos would have detected.
A dagger, a white dress stained red, and a fallen crown.
THE WHITE CROWN OF CLARITY
Carhop Cavalier
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OnionGrump
Mewling Trash
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 9:27 pm
Snatching a post to edit later for Tybalt's death solo.
Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 9:34 pm
Lex had little time to react to the elf turned tentacle, and couldn't even scream as it pulled him into the vortex. He may have thought about everything he didn't get to do, about how he didn't even get to experience Christmas, or how he didn't even get to give that one Death Hunter the pleasure of touching his butt.
No, he had no time for thoughts. He had played a dangerous, rather reckless, game of chicken with the Insanity portal, and he'd lost. Death was upon him, and not in that way.
Pure unblemished light became his reality.
Carhop Cavalier
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[A.V.]
Dangerous Hunter
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 9:38 pm
((NOT ELIGIBLE FOR CROWNS)) [Just doing death solo + crown prompt for fun]
No. NO. It couldn't end like this. DAMMIT ALL.
Jake tore angrily at the elf that clung at his leg, slashing fervently at it. Something. ANYTHING! It couldn't end this way.
The elf dissipated, wrapping wispy tendrils around his leg, dragging him closer and closer. NO!
As he got closer to the figure, he glared angrily at it. Her. If only he could just take her out, than just... maybe...
Weapon glowing with the accumulated fear, he swung the tonfas toward her, wispy tendrils from his own weapon, similar to the fog reaching out. Closer, closer... One of the tendrils only managed to touch one of the crowns in the figure's hand, prompting a voice to echo out.
"Take it. Take it, and everything you wish will be yours. Noone will question you because you-"
It was too late though, as he was pulled down into the depth, darkness swallowing him. Everything went black.
----------------------------
The king opened his eyes, taking in everything around him. It was a sorry sight.
Rubble lay strewn about in the once majestic throne room. Everything torn, broken down, destroyed. Nothing remained of the kingdom. Everything was lost. And it was all his fault.
The weapon in his hand felt heavy. Useless. He ran a hand over, feeling each crack that lined the surface.
I'm sorry, old friend. I guess this is where it ends. "I am sorry my king."
His head jerked up at the voice, turning to see a figure approaching him. Of course. How could he forget?
The figure shuffled uncomfortably, refusing to make eye contact. This grated on his nerves.
"OUT with it."
The figure jumped, shuffled nervously some more, and finally looked up. "It is time. This is the end you are seeking."
At that moment, the door burst open, people rushing in. "There he is!" "The traitor!" "Kill him! Hang him!"
In a moment he was surrounded, forced to his knees. One of the men struck his head, and the crown came crashing down, a deafening sound as it hit the ground. His arms were pulled back, heavy shackles placed on his wrists. The metal felt cold, tight.
"Not so mighty now, are you?" One of the men spat. "This is what you get, you traitorous king." One of the men stepped on his weapon, and he grit his teeth. ... No. They were right. He had failed.
One tore off his cape. "You're no king no more. Not to us." Another sneered. "From king to commoner."
The king made no remark as they dragged him out, stripping him of his kingly robes, donning him with peasant clothes as they dragged him out of the castle and into the square.
There was a murmur through the crowd, voices of confusion, anger, hatred, sorrow. One of the women rushed forward, clutching at his shirt. "You killed him! Bring him back, you monster, give me back my husband!" A rock was pelted at his head "Daddy trusted you. Daddy DIED for you!"
The crowd unified as an angry mob, heaping insults on him, spitting at him, pelting him with rocks, sticks, whatever they could find. The king only walked on. This was fine. He deserved this. They had a right to be angry. They had put their trust, their faith in him, to lead them to victory, but he had failed them. He was no longer their king. They were no longer his subjects.
As he scanned the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention, and when he realized who it was, he quickly turned away. No, she shouldn't see him like this. Why was she here? He shut his eyes, wishing she would go away. It was no use though. He could feel her eyes on him. He could hear her quiet sobs.
I'm sorry, I've failed you.
"Keep moving!" He gasped as one of the men prodded him with a spear, forcing him forward. "Don't even THINK of trying to worm out of this." He had no intention to. This was his punishment. He would bear it.
Stumbling onto the execution platform, one of the men pushed him forward onto his knees. "Take a good look around." The voice snarled, grabbing his hair and pulling his head up. "Look at all the people you've let down. Wives, widowed. Children, fatherless. Because you were incompetent, you have made this country suffer. We will not abide by your laws anymore."
He saw as his guards turn their gaze from him, the crowd's angry expression boring into him.
Stop. No more.
The man laughed wickedly and planted a boot on his back, forcing his head to the ground. "Eat dirt, you filthy king."
Another of the men gestured to the crowd. "What shall we do with this wretched king?"
The voices roared. "Hang him!" "Drown him!" "Stab him!"
The man chuckled, taking his boot off him and pulled his head back. "And how about you? Would you like to suggest something?" A pair of eyes only stared back at him. It lacked neither anger nor malice. Only understanding at what needed to be done.
The man scoffed, pushing his head forward as he released his grip. "I say... how about we behead him?
A cheer erupted from the crowd.
The king was held down by a pair of hands as one of the men brought a sword.
"All hail the mighty king." He smirked. "King of us no more." Another spat.
Footsteps. The king twisted his head. "For the greater good," the voice whispered. "In order to save everyone, a sacrifice has to be made."
The king closed his eyes.
"Any last words?" He shook his head. The sword came down with an air of finality.
"Goodbye, my king."
It is finished.
LividPeas generated a random number between
1 and 32 ...
1!
Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 10:56 pm
Before she could utter a word, the grey tendrils wrapped themselves around her legs, pulling her into the vortex. Being as close as she and Ami were, they were likely gone in seconds.
She had been able to nothing, nothing at all. To survive the Sahara, the cold, only to end up dead still.. what was worse, she had been completely useless this whole time. The others were fighting with every ounce of strength they had, where she had to have others come to her rescue. It was shameful..
"I have what you desire."
Her attention was redirected, focused on the fog-like figure of what appeared to be herself. They had what she desired? Who could they even know what she desired? Her gaze, lowered, landing upon the crown in their grasp. Was that one of the crowns Ami had spoken of? Her brow furrowed, turning her head away in disgust. "I have no desire for such objects.." Yet, somehow.. she craved it and the power it held.
"Take it. Take it, and everything you wish will be yours. Noone will question you because you-"
----------------------------------
Fingers drumming atop the table, the woman fixated their crimson gaze upon the blue crown in front of them, contemplating on whether or not they dare take the responsibility of protecting the realm. Katherine was a free spirit, and to become 'king', she would be tied down by the rules of the realm, as well as everything that followed. King of the realm.. pfft. Its no different than to be a slave of the realm.. Positions of power.. she hated them. The higher the position, the more likely you were to be judged, needed. She would have died a grateful woman, following the commands of another, but this-
-she didn't want this!
The people in the room were given a fleeting look, while they anxiously awaited her decision. Friends, and allies--people who had fought and spilled blood with her on the battlefield--all of them expecting her to make the right decision.
Hesitant, she sucked in a breath, reaching out for the crown. Hand hovering over it for near a minute, while she shot the crowd a nervous glance. With no words, she took the crown into her grasp and loosed a sigh of defeat. Fine then.. Setting the crown to rest atop her head, she arose to face the people.
"M'lady," One started, only to be cut off when she shot them a look of annoyance.
"Don't call me that, I've asked you more then once to stop that. I am no lady, no matter what station I'm in." The 'king' grumbled, adjusting the crown when it threatened to slip off her head. They all knew her, they had all gone through hell and back together. To call her a 'lady'.. she was likely more vulgar that many of them men in this kingdom!
"Er.. Katherine," they corrected, earning a approving nod from Kat. "You had been selected to become the guardian of this realm, but.." Stiffening, she paused in her movement, hand resting on the edge of the table, as she found a new fascination in staring at the floor. "you failed the tournament. If you had been successful.. well, maybe we would have been able to avoid this tragedy.. However-"
"I know.." She knew this before she had been selected, before she even took part in the tournament. The guardian of the realm had the ability to keep the kingdom safe from harm, but it came at a cost. One of which she failed in. If the previous king had still been alive, then perhaps she would have been able to avoid this whole ordeal all together.
"You must choose a sacrifice."
"I know!" She snapped, ignoring the looks of surprise from some, where as others appeared impassive to her behavior. "Gale.." She caught the knight's gaze. "how much time do I have to make this choice..?"
He paused, casting his gaze downwards for a moment before fixing his attention upon her again. "Not long, I'm afraid. You've already put off the decision to become 'king' for this long.. time is running out. You'll need to make your choice today, otherwise.."
Otherwise they kingdom would suffer the consequences..
The bitter truth was enough to cause a small whine to escape Kat's lips, her hands dragging through her hair while she paced back and forth. Who was she to choose? How could they expect her to carry out such a sentence? Granted, one life verses the whole kingdom, it was a no-brainer.. but to sacrifice someone's life? She felt like she was going to sick.
...
She was.
Quickly setting the crown back down upon the table, the 'king' gracefully turned away from the people to discharge anything she had eaten earlier in the day. This was pathetic.. why was she so afraid to take one life when she had already taken so many? Perhaps because this wasn't a battlefield, and the life to sacrifice was no enemy? Wiping her face with the back of her hand, she felt the touch of another pulling her hair from her face. "Its okay, Ami, I'm fine.. thank you."
Regaining her posture, Kat cast the others a apologetic look. "Pardon that.. display.." The crowd merely nodded, excusing the action with soft murmurs followed by silence.
She had to choose. Today. But the day was almost up! The sun had already begun to set! What was she supposed to do? To make matters worse, the sacrifice required was someone close to her! How could she kill the people she swore to protect with her life!? Gale, Ami, Ryan, Saya, Lex, Ceres, Bix, Eva, Wilson.. even that sissy, soldier she loved to torment, Mark! All of them has a special place in her heart.. if she killed them..
Why couldn't be someone she loathed? Someone like General Caelius!? That b*****d would never die from this fate, not unless someone out there was a masochist.
More time had gone by, and still not choice had been made. The people in the room were beginning to grow more concerned. She had to choose! "Kat-" Ryan spoke up, much to the others relief, urging her to choose.
"I.." There had to be another option, one that did not require the sacrifice of a friend, but was still close to her.
...
Herself.
Turning to face the group once again, she plucked the crown from the table top and stepped towards them. "I have made my decision." Sighs of relief filled the room, where as others anxiously awaited the news--nervous of the name to be called.
"My choice is made, as 'king' and guardian--protector of the realm, you agree that my choice is final?" All nodded in agreement, almost in unison.
"Then I pass my duties on to Gale-" She turned to him, handing him the crown. "I will be the sacrifice. It will be my first, and final act as 'king'." Not bothering to look upon their faces, she ignored some of the protests, holding up a hand as she waited for Gale to take the crown from her. "I'm sorry, Gale.. to make you take this role, but.. you're better suited for it than I. You will make a fine leader." Not waiting for him to answer, she turned to the others again, brow knitting together. "All of you bare witness to this moment, serve him, as you would have served me, or our past kings." It was apparent that some were slightly skeptical that one so young would be able to fulfill the duties of the kingdom, but she knew.. Gale was perfect for the job.
"Ceres, I'd ask that you take care of Xedis for me. You know how pampered that feline is. He'll need a lot of attention." Her request was accepted with a nod and muffled sob as she moved towards them all. "I'm sorry.. I failed you all in the tournament.. I won't have anyone die for my failures, allow me to make amends."
She paused, looking upon all their faces with a look of amusement. "We'll meet again in the next life, I'm sure."
There was little time to do much else, the execution could not wait any longer. Gesturing for one of the guards, she followed them out, making her way to the tower and to Rep, who had taken the place of the former executioner. Well, Rep has often jest on killing a king. She snorted, folding her arms behind her head as she walked.
This was probably the shortest reign in history--fine by her.
'King' was more a man's title anyways.
(( lol omg, please don't judge my rp OTL /horrible at solos ))
Blue Crown of Protection
LividPeas
Offline
Nio Love generated a random number between
1 and 32 ...
15!
This was starting to become an annoying reoccurance.
When the fog blocked his view of everyone but himself, and, well, himself, Robert de-summoned Jezebel and strode forward, his finger pointed accusingly at the figure head. "All right, you sons of bitches, enough of this bullshit. I know what you're going to say, or do. You're going to try to make me go crazy, and use Petra or some other person to upset me, and blah blah blah - well I'm done with it. Just save your bullshit, because I've had it up to here with you. I'm done."
But the figure wasn't. He held out the crown with both hands, that easy knowing grin on his face. "I have what you desire."
"What I desire is for you to cut this bullshit out."
All the figure did was lift the crown, holding it up closer. "Take it." His colorless image demanded. "Take it, and everything you wish will be yours."
Robert's eyes flickered to the crown hesitantly, for one weak second. He doubted a crown could give him the power he needed to stop this stupid war, and keep his friends and family safe, but it felt so tempting. It tugged at him, begging him to try. Just try. What could it hurt?
It always hurt.
He always ended up trying, anyway.
---
The roar of crowd was always a very distant, very quiet sound from the peak. No one knew exactly why the castle's throne room had been built at the top of a building to tall, so lean, so absolutely over the top that the clouds fluttered past the windows, and the air was almost too thin to breathe. It was an obnoxious move on the king's part, but everyone had gotten used to it. It made them tougher, harder, and in the end, they were better off for it. So nobody complained anymore, no ears popped, no weak-willed entertainment passed out on the giant marble floor in the middle of the giant marble room with its giant marble pillars and giant marble statues. Sitting on his giant marble throne was a giant man, lost deep in thought. Around him were every single one of his friends, sitting in a wide, wide circle that surrounded the expanse of the entire room. Fifty of them, some so far he couldn't hear them if they talked, all lined the cornerless room, waiting for his decision.
It wasn't coming easy.
"No one will question your choice, my king." A tender voice beside him whispered out, urging him forward. All she did was enrage him further, as he slammed his hand down on the side of the throne and roared his dissent. "NO ONE SHOULD QUESTION ME REGARDLESS OF WHETHER I MAKE A DECISION OR NOT! To force me to choose one of my own subjects for this ridiculous execution means forcing my hand. I REFUSE."
The room filled with murmurs, arguing quietly amongst one another, but King Robert's brow remained furrowed, firm in his decision to ignore the demands for death. If it came down to it, he would bring himself to the edge of the balcony, where his people waited so far down it was hard to see. He would take his own sword, and cut off his own head, let it fall at their feet and let their bloodlust be sated at the sight of their own king's head.
"That is why I am choosing for you."
The dark delirium Robert had started to fall under was broken by a gentle voice, and his eyes lifted up, widening in horror as he stared ahead of him. She was dressed in the purest white robe, he was sure it was one of their customary death shrouds. Following at her footsteps were a trio of women, their heads bowed in respect, as she led them to the throne. Once there, she bent down to her knee and bowed, but her head remained lifted up with an affectionate smile to her king. Her servents prostrated behind her, their bodies lying flat on the floor.
"No, you're not." Robert grumbled, refusing to take the lady Eva seriously. Her choice of dress worried him about her so called choice, but he wouldn't even tolerate the thought. He brushed her away with his hand, and turned back to his Queen, willing to hear no more on the subject.
It was a stubborn, foolish move.
Eva stood, her head tilted to one side as she smiled up at Robert with the utter adoration one could only give to their chosen sovereign, before turning to walk towards the balcony. It was this choice of path that had Robert looking back at her, following the trail her long, flowing robes made on the floor as she walked away from him. He wanted to step on those robes, pull on them hard until she came back. He rose up from his chair, and as was custom, every member of his court rose with him.
"Eva. Get back here." He hissed out dangerously. She ignored him, and his thick steel boots clanked heavily against the floor as he followed her to the balcony. Every member of the court followed, a hushed quiet falling over them.
When she reached the balcony, Eva's servants took her hands, and helped her stand up on its edge. It was here that several members of the court cried out in horror, and Robert surged forward, pushing the other women away and wrapping his arms around her waist.
"I said no. That was an order." His voice held every ounce of the power that had made him king, but all Eva did was smile down at him, both of her hands resting on his cheeks.
"You're like a brother to me. Did you know that?" She asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "You've been suffering with this choice for too long. I know you. Your kingdom needs you to lead, my lord. You've become as stale as the statues in your throne room since the day we lost the tournament. None of us can afford that."
Her words were very hushed, and full of a certain kind of love. Robert's arms refused to let up, holding her tight on the balcony, even as the long white shrouds of cloth that made up her dress billowed out behind her in the wind several feet away. "I'm doing this for all of us." She assured him. "I'm doing this so you don't have to live with the choice you've made. So you won't be corrupted by the chill death leaves on your heart." She patted his chest softly. "You've got a good heart, Robert. It's got to stay that way."
His head shook stubbornly, even as figures began to come closer, edging on the balcony. Eva's gentle gaze turned into worry when she saw Gale climbing up to one side of the King, and Otto to the other. She knew what they were planning, and she had to work fast.
"If you fall, your death will ruin me. You're wrong, Eva. I can't let this happen." Robert couldn't see past the woman in his arms. His eyes were already brimming with tears for the inevitable. He started to pull her closer, and she leaned down, kissing him on the forehead. He took it as a sign of her defeat, and pulled her off the balcony, her bare feet touching the ground once more.
The entire court let out a sigh of relief. They couldn't agree on who they wanted to give up, but no one wanted to see Eva die. She was the jewel of the kingdom, the closest to a princess they would ever get. Her death would send a ripple of anguish felt across the land for many years to come.
Robert turned around once Eva was safe, and the men that had stood on the balcony turned to listen to him. "She's right. I have to make a choice. But I promise you. I promise you. I will never let this happen to us again."
His eyes fell on Petra, softening gently with sadness, and she gave him a tiny, but proud smile.
It was gone in a second, as a look of horror crossed her face.
Robert turned around, and the flutters of white brushed across his cheek lovingly, as Eva stepped over the balcony and plummetted from the incredible height. He reached out, his fingers just barely managing to grab the tendrils of white before they slipped from his grasp, and he slammed his hands down on the balcony edge as he looked over it.
Her face was serene, and calm, as she floated like an angel down to the depths below. It seemed to take forever, and the long tendrils of cloth fluttering around her began to look like wings. Eva was a bird, soaring through the sky safely. A pure, white bird, set free from her cage.
No, she was just a woman, falling to her death in her supreme sacrifice for her kingdom.
He heard the scream before he felt it - Gale was already over the edge, jumping to join her, but Robert's arms wrapped around the young man's waist in mid-air and pulled him back into his arms. Gale struggled and fought, screaming in anguish, but Robert's arms held him fast, keeping him close as he continued to watch Eva fall. Eventually, the young knight quieted, and turned to look as well - but Robert's hand pressed against Gale's cheek, and turned him back to his chest.
The moment was coming. He couldn't let Gale see it.
She was so small now, so hard to see. Otto was bent over the edge, and for a moment Robert worried he'd have to try and save him, too. But he turned away before the end came, and stormed off of the balcony. He couldn't watch it.
But Robert would. He wouldn't turn away for a moment, even as the crowd parted, screaming at the sight of a falling body in the sky. They made room for her, and she landed on the ground, her death instant and painless. The sound of his kingdom mourning came as a slow wail, floating up from the ground, wavering with distance and growing with each new person who realized who it was that had given her life for them all.
The beautiful white dove lying on the floor turned red, her death shroud soaked in her own blood. He kept Gale's head turned into his chest by force, and then pulled away from the balcony altogether.
His kingdom had lost more than just one person in their quest for greatness.
![[A.V.]'s avatar](https://a1cdn.gaiaonline.com/dress-up/avatar/ava/8d/f2/221070ca3ff28d_flip.png?t=1546143856_6.00_11&pl=15)
