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Deranged
๐๐๐ฃ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐ค๐ง๐ข๐๐ก๐๐ฎ
- Joined
- Jan 10, 2022
- Location
- Crucible of Defiance
As you must've noticed, I'm still quite new to this pond, so I've not been able to garner any public content of note for public consumption yet. Anyways, for the curious kittens out there, I've made a compilation of samples from my adventures elsewhere.
Although, the first two plots on my request thread might double as samples, they're quite outdated. Plus, these ones have been tastefully arranged based on a range of factors (also because we often don't write the same way we introduce plots)
๐๐๐๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐ค๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ๐๐๐๐ง๐จ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐:
๐๐๐ฆ๐ช๐๐ง๐๐ข๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ช๐ฃ๐ก๐ค๐๐ :
๐ญ. Successfully start a story with Deranged
๐ฎ. Successfully "satisfy" Deranged with your starter and subsequent posts, within the realm of the samples in this category - with respect to post length, complexity and overall quality.
๐ฟ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐จ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช'๐ง๐: ๐ญ. A good partner
๐ฎ. A satisfying person to work with.
๐ฟ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก: ๐ญ. Respond in like manner and commend posts that occasionally surpass the upper limits of this category.
๐ฎ. Will follow such upgraded posts with improvement in his own as well.
๐ฏ. Happily oblige any requests for guidance and help from him to improve your writing or the quality of your posts in any dimension, to the best of his ability.
๐ฐ. Offer constructive criticism and advice where he deems necessary or appropriate, in a mature, civil, and generally friendly and positive manner.
๐๐๐ง๐ ๐ฌ๐ ๐๐ค!
Although, the first two plots on my request thread might double as samples, they're quite outdated. Plus, these ones have been tastefully arranged based on a range of factors (also because we often don't write the same way we introduce plots)
๐๐๐๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐ค๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ๐๐๐๐ง๐จ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐:
๐๐ฉ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐จ๐ช๐
๐๐๐ฆ๐ช๐๐ง๐๐ข๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ช๐ฃ๐ก๐ค๐๐ :
๐ญ. Successfully start a story with Deranged
๐ฎ. Successfully "satisfy" Deranged with your starter and subsequent posts, within the realm of the samples in this category - with respect to post length, complexity and overall quality.
๐ฟ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐จ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช'๐ง๐: ๐ญ. A good partner
๐ฎ. A satisfying person to work with.
๐ฟ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก: ๐ญ. Respond in like manner and commend posts that occasionally surpass the upper limits of this category.
๐ฎ. Will follow such upgraded posts with improvement in his own as well.
๐ฏ. Happily oblige any requests for guidance and help from him to improve your writing or the quality of your posts in any dimension, to the best of his ability.
๐ฐ. Offer constructive criticism and advice where he deems necessary or appropriate, in a mature, civil, and generally friendly and positive manner.
๐๐๐ง๐ ๐ฌ๐ ๐๐ค!
Those who dream of war are probably those who have no idea of the depravity it involves...either that, or they actually are in tune with those depravities on an intimate level.
A pair of irritated and slightly pissed eyes bored holes into a certain spectacle of a rough looking man who looked like he's seen better days. The eyes belonged to a slightly graying man who had the look of a somewhat bemused demon on his face now. Two men who had escorted the bruised man into the dimly lit room in the first place, flanked him with blank expressions on their faces, forcing the bruised man to alternate wild looks from one to the other with increasing fervor.
While he wasn't bound and or gagged to the uncomfortable metal chair that he was sitting on, he's willing to bet that his hosts aren't particularly interested in a merry gathering of any sort.
The clicking of heels that filled the spacious and dimly lit enclosure once the doors opened, kept pouring in and increasing in intensity until the people producing them became visible. One of them was the slightly graying man with distinct facial features that highlighted his Asian heritage, sitting proudly below his well conditioned hair.
The poor bulb that hung over them made it difficult to tell what particular color his shirt was, or whatever else save the faint gleam of the watch he had on his left wrist, that he had on.
One thing the poor lighting couldn't hide tho, was the look in the man's eyes. Oh, that and the fact that he didn't waltz in alone. Flanking him were two gun-totting baddies who looked like.....well, bad news. One was a man who looked to be approaching his middle ages, and the other was a young woman who had a slightly sour expression on her not so visible face.
The graying man who was obviously the leader stepped forward and approached the metal chair with a florish, but with an ominous swagger that made the bruised man begin to sweat again, for the second time in less than four hours. His left arm is as limp as noodles, and he just had a shave that was too close for comfort with death. And now? Well, he's beginning to realize that the razor might not be done with him afterall, looks like it might be coming for a second swipe!
"So....tell me what this is about. Why I had to get pulled out of bed so abruptly"
There was a certain breezy groove to the old man's tone, if only Gavin hadn't been in the game too long to detect latent anger and the misleading attempts to disguise it. Hell, he just had a bitch blow off his joint with a seductive smile and a cheery voice! With that being said, he wasn't looking forward to having anymore bullets in his body today, so he decided to choose his next words carefully.
"U-hum....eh, we might have a problem with Novikoff..."
Whoa Gavin! Smooth Icebreaker.....
The older man whose name is actually Akira Nagata, has been trying to establish a successful branch of the Japanese mafia better known as the Yakuza in the states. With that being said, his connections to the syndicate, and his own crafty and utterly ruthless nature, has managed to do just that to a commendable degree.
Akira raised a brow, not that Gavin could see it...not too well at least. He intentionally had this room dimly lit at all times, especially when it has "guests". Something to do with aiding the process of torture and trauma if the need calls for it. Well, according to him, nothing like a bleak and gloomy place to provide the right atmosphere for breaking the human body, mind and spirit. It's the equivalent of candlelight in romantic dinners!
"A problem, Mr Gavin?"
Gavin had to hold in the urge to hiss and curse. The searing fangs of pain in his busted joint wasn't making this easy for him at all. And there's the fact that all these fucking crime bosses are all the same. There goes that mock politeness again......these fuckers can put a bullet into your skull while making out with you.
Gavin blinked, seeing the conversation heading down the same tentative path that the one he had with his now ex boss did. He frowned slightly, cursing his luck and questioning why on Earth he even decided to play double agent. But just as his self righteous chastisement was about to commence, he felt the heat from a relatively smooth face of the now quizzed looking Akira who had inched his face ever so slowly towards his own. Now Gavin can't recall dealing with any snakes, but he's willing to bet the safety of his good arm that Akira just slithered towards him like one!
"Well Mr Gavin....why don't you save us all some time and lay out this story about this..."problem" of yours"
Akira prodded, his face now so close to Gavin's that he could smell the bitter and metalic overtones of the blood on his mess of a face. That and the sweat that was probably oozing out at will.
Akira didn't have to say it, but Gavin got the message alright. Between all the polite mumbo-jumbo was a clear "I'm losing my patience bastard". Not so eager to have another bullet pumped into him, Gavin knew he had to speak...now!
"She sorta found out about our arrangement! Bitch must have some quality snoops around to even catch us out. I mean, my guys and I, we were very careful!"
Oh well, so much for playing it cool and smooth. It looks like getting a master's degree in mindfuckery is a fucking requirement for all this crime lords.
"Oh...did she now?..."
Akira trailed off. His tone was a flat drone, and his accent seemed to be disappearing everyday. Well, to be fair, he's been in the states for a fairly long time now. He stroked his slightly bearded chin thoughtfully, still not bothering to even restore the space that once separated him from Gavin.
Gavin was now positively shaking. Kira did say that he was gonna be her message to her enemies. How good of a job he's doing, he's not sure and he sure as hell doesn't care.
"Look, I can still help you, it doesn't have to be the end!"
Gavin's voice was hoarse now, and to be honest, even he found it a little difficult to believe his pathetic plea or be persuaded by it.
That probably would explain his shock when Akira gave him a light chuckle and nodded before patting his messy mop of hair and easing away from him.
"Of course you can my boy...of course you can."
Akira began to pace around his sitted guest while he went into an
inaudible mumbling fit. Gavin won't say that the old man's all that phased by the proceedings, but he sure as hell knows that he is!
He was puzzled and losing it too. His heart was a disjointed muddle of jumps and starts and the pain in his injured arm flared once again.
"....how?...."
Gavin couldn't believe that the question that hung in the still air came from his lips. He at once, regretted and appreciated it as soon as he heard it.
"Good question Mr Gavin....good question. If you ask me, I'd say it'll involve some blood, and no. You don't need to worry about having one arm short for the job"
It was Gavin's turn to raise a brow in confusion. He would've loved some more clarification on this master plan, but his host was already waltzing away from him and the stream of questions and obscenities he was raining after him.
Akira waved the young woman to his side when he was some distance away from the raving lunatic, whose crass actions have now earned him a gunbutt to the head or twelve.
"Yuki, come"
The woman did as she was told promptly, but the predatory glint in her eyes would suggest that she was more interested delivering a few pows of her own to the stinking idiot who has surely outlived his usefulness.
When she was close enough, she stood with her left ear merely inches away from her boss's lips.
"That Novikoff's spawn is beginning to tickle my ass the wrong way. She needs to be dealt with.... permanently"
Yuki nodded in agreement as her surprisingly gentle and light voice whispered back.
"Give me three days and I'll get rid of her for you, boss"
Akira chuckled again and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. The eagerness in her tone was hard to miss.
"No, no my flower. Whose gonna look out for my sorry ass while you're gone?"
Yuki's eyes got a new flare to them now as the knuckles of the hand bearing her gun became snow white with her nails digging into the metal.
"There's tons of people for that th-"
Her venomous whisper was cut off by the older man with a raised fist.
"I know that Yuki. The job I have for you today is one you'll quite enjoy. That little Russian bitch thinks she can send me a scary message? Well I wanna show her that I can send her one back"
Yuki huffed in defeat and disappointment, she nodded to show her compliance and earned a pat on the back for it.
"See that fool back there? You're free to go ahead and have your fun with him. The fucker's no use anymore. The only thing that I ask tho, is that you carve a nice little word on his back"
He planted a flat kiss on her forehead and gave her another pat on the back. Yuki knew exactly what her boss expected of her as far as Gavin was concerned, and she'll do it......howbeit, in a particularly brutal flavor that'll be fueled by her resentnent of not being the one to off that Russian squirt.
"What are you gonna do boss?"
She asked as the older man waltzed off.
"Oh me?"
Akira returned with a slightly higher pitch.
"I'm gonna give an old friend a call!"
A pair of irritated and slightly pissed eyes bored holes into a certain spectacle of a rough looking man who looked like he's seen better days. The eyes belonged to a slightly graying man who had the look of a somewhat bemused demon on his face now. Two men who had escorted the bruised man into the dimly lit room in the first place, flanked him with blank expressions on their faces, forcing the bruised man to alternate wild looks from one to the other with increasing fervor.
While he wasn't bound and or gagged to the uncomfortable metal chair that he was sitting on, he's willing to bet that his hosts aren't particularly interested in a merry gathering of any sort.
The clicking of heels that filled the spacious and dimly lit enclosure once the doors opened, kept pouring in and increasing in intensity until the people producing them became visible. One of them was the slightly graying man with distinct facial features that highlighted his Asian heritage, sitting proudly below his well conditioned hair.
The poor bulb that hung over them made it difficult to tell what particular color his shirt was, or whatever else save the faint gleam of the watch he had on his left wrist, that he had on.
One thing the poor lighting couldn't hide tho, was the look in the man's eyes. Oh, that and the fact that he didn't waltz in alone. Flanking him were two gun-totting baddies who looked like.....well, bad news. One was a man who looked to be approaching his middle ages, and the other was a young woman who had a slightly sour expression on her not so visible face.
The graying man who was obviously the leader stepped forward and approached the metal chair with a florish, but with an ominous swagger that made the bruised man begin to sweat again, for the second time in less than four hours. His left arm is as limp as noodles, and he just had a shave that was too close for comfort with death. And now? Well, he's beginning to realize that the razor might not be done with him afterall, looks like it might be coming for a second swipe!
"So....tell me what this is about. Why I had to get pulled out of bed so abruptly"
There was a certain breezy groove to the old man's tone, if only Gavin hadn't been in the game too long to detect latent anger and the misleading attempts to disguise it. Hell, he just had a bitch blow off his joint with a seductive smile and a cheery voice! With that being said, he wasn't looking forward to having anymore bullets in his body today, so he decided to choose his next words carefully.
"U-hum....eh, we might have a problem with Novikoff..."
Whoa Gavin! Smooth Icebreaker.....
The older man whose name is actually Akira Nagata, has been trying to establish a successful branch of the Japanese mafia better known as the Yakuza in the states. With that being said, his connections to the syndicate, and his own crafty and utterly ruthless nature, has managed to do just that to a commendable degree.
Akira raised a brow, not that Gavin could see it...not too well at least. He intentionally had this room dimly lit at all times, especially when it has "guests". Something to do with aiding the process of torture and trauma if the need calls for it. Well, according to him, nothing like a bleak and gloomy place to provide the right atmosphere for breaking the human body, mind and spirit. It's the equivalent of candlelight in romantic dinners!
"A problem, Mr Gavin?"
Gavin had to hold in the urge to hiss and curse. The searing fangs of pain in his busted joint wasn't making this easy for him at all. And there's the fact that all these fucking crime bosses are all the same. There goes that mock politeness again......these fuckers can put a bullet into your skull while making out with you.
Gavin blinked, seeing the conversation heading down the same tentative path that the one he had with his now ex boss did. He frowned slightly, cursing his luck and questioning why on Earth he even decided to play double agent. But just as his self righteous chastisement was about to commence, he felt the heat from a relatively smooth face of the now quizzed looking Akira who had inched his face ever so slowly towards his own. Now Gavin can't recall dealing with any snakes, but he's willing to bet the safety of his good arm that Akira just slithered towards him like one!
"Well Mr Gavin....why don't you save us all some time and lay out this story about this..."problem" of yours"
Akira prodded, his face now so close to Gavin's that he could smell the bitter and metalic overtones of the blood on his mess of a face. That and the sweat that was probably oozing out at will.
Akira didn't have to say it, but Gavin got the message alright. Between all the polite mumbo-jumbo was a clear "I'm losing my patience bastard". Not so eager to have another bullet pumped into him, Gavin knew he had to speak...now!
"She sorta found out about our arrangement! Bitch must have some quality snoops around to even catch us out. I mean, my guys and I, we were very careful!"
Oh well, so much for playing it cool and smooth. It looks like getting a master's degree in mindfuckery is a fucking requirement for all this crime lords.
"Oh...did she now?..."
Akira trailed off. His tone was a flat drone, and his accent seemed to be disappearing everyday. Well, to be fair, he's been in the states for a fairly long time now. He stroked his slightly bearded chin thoughtfully, still not bothering to even restore the space that once separated him from Gavin.
Gavin was now positively shaking. Kira did say that he was gonna be her message to her enemies. How good of a job he's doing, he's not sure and he sure as hell doesn't care.
"Look, I can still help you, it doesn't have to be the end!"
Gavin's voice was hoarse now, and to be honest, even he found it a little difficult to believe his pathetic plea or be persuaded by it.
That probably would explain his shock when Akira gave him a light chuckle and nodded before patting his messy mop of hair and easing away from him.
"Of course you can my boy...of course you can."
Akira began to pace around his sitted guest while he went into an
inaudible mumbling fit. Gavin won't say that the old man's all that phased by the proceedings, but he sure as hell knows that he is!
He was puzzled and losing it too. His heart was a disjointed muddle of jumps and starts and the pain in his injured arm flared once again.
"....how?...."
Gavin couldn't believe that the question that hung in the still air came from his lips. He at once, regretted and appreciated it as soon as he heard it.
"Good question Mr Gavin....good question. If you ask me, I'd say it'll involve some blood, and no. You don't need to worry about having one arm short for the job"
It was Gavin's turn to raise a brow in confusion. He would've loved some more clarification on this master plan, but his host was already waltzing away from him and the stream of questions and obscenities he was raining after him.
Akira waved the young woman to his side when he was some distance away from the raving lunatic, whose crass actions have now earned him a gunbutt to the head or twelve.
"Yuki, come"
The woman did as she was told promptly, but the predatory glint in her eyes would suggest that she was more interested delivering a few pows of her own to the stinking idiot who has surely outlived his usefulness.
When she was close enough, she stood with her left ear merely inches away from her boss's lips.
"That Novikoff's spawn is beginning to tickle my ass the wrong way. She needs to be dealt with.... permanently"
Yuki nodded in agreement as her surprisingly gentle and light voice whispered back.
"Give me three days and I'll get rid of her for you, boss"
Akira chuckled again and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. The eagerness in her tone was hard to miss.
"No, no my flower. Whose gonna look out for my sorry ass while you're gone?"
Yuki's eyes got a new flare to them now as the knuckles of the hand bearing her gun became snow white with her nails digging into the metal.
"There's tons of people for that th-"
Her venomous whisper was cut off by the older man with a raised fist.
"I know that Yuki. The job I have for you today is one you'll quite enjoy. That little Russian bitch thinks she can send me a scary message? Well I wanna show her that I can send her one back"
Yuki huffed in defeat and disappointment, she nodded to show her compliance and earned a pat on the back for it.
"See that fool back there? You're free to go ahead and have your fun with him. The fucker's no use anymore. The only thing that I ask tho, is that you carve a nice little word on his back"
He planted a flat kiss on her forehead and gave her another pat on the back. Yuki knew exactly what her boss expected of her as far as Gavin was concerned, and she'll do it......howbeit, in a particularly brutal flavor that'll be fueled by her resentnent of not being the one to off that Russian squirt.
"What are you gonna do boss?"
She asked as the older man waltzed off.
"Oh me?"
Akira returned with a slightly higher pitch.
"I'm gonna give an old friend a call!"
"To all who have nursed the ambition of becoming a Striker to the brink of reality, welcome to your final test!"
To say that the atmosphere was intense would be an understatement. Stashed away among seats that were mostly ignored in the space provided, were the spectators of the event about to unfold.
The population of spectators had a respectable quota that consisted of the friends and family of the intensely focused young men and women who stood in a neat row inside the large arena that was so massive, it made them appear like pebbles in a mountain range.
The arena in itself was not bare, it was fitted with some apparatus. Some were visible to both spectators and contestants alike, others were hidden. Hidden everywhere; ranging from underground, to plain sight.
The announcer seemed to be picking up the static that filled the charged atmosphere as the restless crowd cheered and hollered before resorting to looking on with bated breath.
The contestants who were twenty in number where not exempted from the suspense that hung in the air like a dark cloud. Infact, a fair amount of them were taking controlled breaths to settle their nerves and rework their focus on the task ahead.
"The journey here has been one full of learning. One riddled with countless challenges to overcome, and many tests of courage, wit, spirit and character.
For you who seek the prestigious title of Striker, and the honor and responsibilities tied to it; you should be able to testify that infact, while far many more than this had started the journey, only those of you who stand here and now; poised to conquer the challenge ahead have made it this far."
It turns out that the "announcer" wasn't merely a guy hired to entertain the crowd and further grill the finalists with poetic quips on how far they have come, and how much this moment should mean to them.
The man who stood on a stage a couple of hundred feet away from the row of finalists, and calmly delivered his embroidered speech to the "Sono-amp" (as the speech enhancing device fitted on the pulpit-like stand he had in front of him was fondly called amongst the people who value technology) was none other than Strike-Marshall Lance Pagan.
He was not only a stalwart figure in the "Vanguard Corps", he was hot stuff too as far as the Sovereign empire of Hellsgate was concerned. His position in the corps was an intimidating one, infact, he could be seen as the president of the "Strike" section of the corps; the section that focused mostly on intense training of the mind, spirit and body to transform men and women into living examples of the "true power of man" (many Sovereigns would tell you with a laugh, that all the words immediately above are just the propaganda version of the basic fact that; the Strikeforce as that section is called is infact, an elite unit of military trump cards and a bragging right for the Sovereign empire)
If anyone on the planet can deliver a charged speech to spur the young men and women awaiting the commencement of their final test into a spirited contest, not many better candidates than the Strike-Marshall exist.
He was right too, six years ago, over two hundred boys and girls joined the Vanguard academy with high hopes, ambitions and dreams of becoming the next big thing.....one of the gleaming stars of the empire. Perhaps, to get posted to the capital "Defiance" as one of the emperor's "Omega Strikers". Now and here though, only twenty of them remain!
"It may be that not all of you who stand here today will attain your goal with this very trial.....it may be that none of you will infact attain it, but the one constant, the one unchangeable fact still remains that you must infact, overcome this final hurdle to get that which you seek. THAT which your hearts desire."
A hush had long since fell upon the crowd. It was practically pin-drop silence by the time the middle-aged man who still looked impressive, paused again for breath, and also to ensure that every word of his sunk into the young and ambitious skulls of the aspirants. (Funny, he's been giving these speeches twice a year for a decade now, and he still enjoyed them thoroughly.)
"I shall delay the commencement of your date with destiny no longer; I can see the fire in your eyes already.
May your preparations, carry you through your final ordeal........
Now, let the final test commence!
A loud, pent up storm of cheers and applause rended the air as the stage and the man it bore, gradually began to lower into the ground. Once the stage completely disappeared, a loud gong smash rended the air and roused the crowd to even more boisterous cheer.
There was a slight pause before another gong smash followed. The cheers managed to get even louder than before, and the atmosphere was so charged that it would be no massive surprise, if the air was to light up all of a sudden.
Gong smash number three was the loudest of them all, and this time, it wasn't just the feverish crowd that it affected, it had the aspirants shuffling into action as well.
The atmosphere seemed to explode with pent up energy as applause, whistles and cheers echoed off the square, collosal walls of the arena.
Game time........
__________________________________
It was exactly ten minutes after the third gong smash that had ushered the aspirants into their challenge registered, when yet another loud smash of the gong rended the air to signal the end of the test.
Of the twenty aspirants, only six had managed to reach their goal. The last winner, a young woman with hair all tousled and turned over from all the frantic movements and acrobatics she and her fellow aspirants had to engage in, in order to clear the elaborate and incredibly difficult obstacle course that was their final test, barely strained over the finish line before the gong went up.
She collapsed into a heap as her oxygen-starved lungs berated her for such mighty exertion.
She wasn't the only one who was lying on the space just ahead of the finish line with mighty heaves and gasps for breath.
Navigating the course had been nothing short of intensely demanding! There was literally no room for physical and mental indecision or lag. The right data had to be deciphered almost as soon as they were received, and complemented with the right actions in a similar meagre timeframe.
The variety of the obstacles (that literally included nasty surprises that popped up from nowhere; majority of which would hurt an average person till they sobbed in anguish and regretted getting out of bed in the best case scenario) was almost as confounding as the severity of their impediment.
To even make it halfway through the course in twice the time allowed to clear it would be an invariably commendable feat!
The remaining fourteen aspirants who couldn't make it were left to act out a range of emotions and coping mechanisms to the realization that their efforts up till then would not be rewarded at the moment.
The heaving woman finally managed to pick herself up. Her green eyes darting through the exhausted images of the other heaving victors who were either picking themselves up too, or heading towards a shaded open tent of sorts with gaudy pillars and plush looking chairs that was provided for victorious contestants to specifically "catch their breaths" while the chaotic apparatus was cleared for their official initiation.
She could count four others than herself making the proud, exhausted walk to the tent. However, she seemed to be looking for someone in particular. Her best friend.
"Zack!"
She bellowed in a surprisingly sonorous tone. Her brows rising in relief, then pure surprise.
What her eyes fell on after she had summoned what was left of her reserves to outrun the other exhausted aspirants and get into the tent first was indeed surprising.
There he was, sitting comfortably on one of the plush, long upholstered seats in the cool and refreshing tent. He had his legs crossed, and his eyes buried in a book in his lap. Not a single strand of his shiny black hair was out of place, and he was so calm and collected that you'd have a hard time believing he was actually one of the contestants in that row only ten minutes ago.
"Oh, Sharon. It's very satisfying to know that we both made it on our first trial. I was actually afraid at some point that I'd have to wait another half a year to refer to you as Striker Sharon."
He barely even looked at her sweaty face before burying his face back in his book. Sharon knew him since they were kids, so she was used to his nature. That doesn't mean that she doesn't get the natural urge to just slap that air of perfect calm and balance off his face from time to time though, she was just too happy to care for it at the moment.
"Wow! When did you get here? Wait, how did.....THIS even happen already?"
Zack flipped a page and shrugged almost nonchalantly.
"I got here about five minutes ago actually. You know, you really should grab a seat next to me before some other sweaty body picks the spot.
I really hope they get the initiation ceremony over with quickly. There are better things that brand new Strikers could be doing you know?"
Sharon gasped in indignation and shook her head. Giving up on her friend's rocky vibe with a drawn out "Oh Zack....."
Then, she did pick that seat beside him. Naturally, her fatigue made her head lol to the side on the headrest before skidding diagonally downwards with her damp, silky hair as a gliding groove. The top edge of her head was soon nestled against one of her best friend's shoulders and she found her eyes shutting as a flash nap was on the verge of seizing her.
"Just wake me when the ceremony begins will you? And you better not spoil the ceremony for the rest of us who weren't born with "greatness" in our blood."
He gave her a side glance, that lingered till the first of the other new Strikers made it into the tent.
"No one's born "great" but okay."
To say that the atmosphere was intense would be an understatement. Stashed away among seats that were mostly ignored in the space provided, were the spectators of the event about to unfold.
The population of spectators had a respectable quota that consisted of the friends and family of the intensely focused young men and women who stood in a neat row inside the large arena that was so massive, it made them appear like pebbles in a mountain range.
The arena in itself was not bare, it was fitted with some apparatus. Some were visible to both spectators and contestants alike, others were hidden. Hidden everywhere; ranging from underground, to plain sight.
The announcer seemed to be picking up the static that filled the charged atmosphere as the restless crowd cheered and hollered before resorting to looking on with bated breath.
The contestants who were twenty in number where not exempted from the suspense that hung in the air like a dark cloud. Infact, a fair amount of them were taking controlled breaths to settle their nerves and rework their focus on the task ahead.
"The journey here has been one full of learning. One riddled with countless challenges to overcome, and many tests of courage, wit, spirit and character.
For you who seek the prestigious title of Striker, and the honor and responsibilities tied to it; you should be able to testify that infact, while far many more than this had started the journey, only those of you who stand here and now; poised to conquer the challenge ahead have made it this far."
It turns out that the "announcer" wasn't merely a guy hired to entertain the crowd and further grill the finalists with poetic quips on how far they have come, and how much this moment should mean to them.
The man who stood on a stage a couple of hundred feet away from the row of finalists, and calmly delivered his embroidered speech to the "Sono-amp" (as the speech enhancing device fitted on the pulpit-like stand he had in front of him was fondly called amongst the people who value technology) was none other than Strike-Marshall Lance Pagan.
He was not only a stalwart figure in the "Vanguard Corps", he was hot stuff too as far as the Sovereign empire of Hellsgate was concerned. His position in the corps was an intimidating one, infact, he could be seen as the president of the "Strike" section of the corps; the section that focused mostly on intense training of the mind, spirit and body to transform men and women into living examples of the "true power of man" (many Sovereigns would tell you with a laugh, that all the words immediately above are just the propaganda version of the basic fact that; the Strikeforce as that section is called is infact, an elite unit of military trump cards and a bragging right for the Sovereign empire)
If anyone on the planet can deliver a charged speech to spur the young men and women awaiting the commencement of their final test into a spirited contest, not many better candidates than the Strike-Marshall exist.
He was right too, six years ago, over two hundred boys and girls joined the Vanguard academy with high hopes, ambitions and dreams of becoming the next big thing.....one of the gleaming stars of the empire. Perhaps, to get posted to the capital "Defiance" as one of the emperor's "Omega Strikers". Now and here though, only twenty of them remain!
"It may be that not all of you who stand here today will attain your goal with this very trial.....it may be that none of you will infact attain it, but the one constant, the one unchangeable fact still remains that you must infact, overcome this final hurdle to get that which you seek. THAT which your hearts desire."
A hush had long since fell upon the crowd. It was practically pin-drop silence by the time the middle-aged man who still looked impressive, paused again for breath, and also to ensure that every word of his sunk into the young and ambitious skulls of the aspirants. (Funny, he's been giving these speeches twice a year for a decade now, and he still enjoyed them thoroughly.)
"I shall delay the commencement of your date with destiny no longer; I can see the fire in your eyes already.
May your preparations, carry you through your final ordeal........
Now, let the final test commence!
A loud, pent up storm of cheers and applause rended the air as the stage and the man it bore, gradually began to lower into the ground. Once the stage completely disappeared, a loud gong smash rended the air and roused the crowd to even more boisterous cheer.
There was a slight pause before another gong smash followed. The cheers managed to get even louder than before, and the atmosphere was so charged that it would be no massive surprise, if the air was to light up all of a sudden.
Gong smash number three was the loudest of them all, and this time, it wasn't just the feverish crowd that it affected, it had the aspirants shuffling into action as well.
The atmosphere seemed to explode with pent up energy as applause, whistles and cheers echoed off the square, collosal walls of the arena.
Game time........
__________________________________
It was exactly ten minutes after the third gong smash that had ushered the aspirants into their challenge registered, when yet another loud smash of the gong rended the air to signal the end of the test.
Of the twenty aspirants, only six had managed to reach their goal. The last winner, a young woman with hair all tousled and turned over from all the frantic movements and acrobatics she and her fellow aspirants had to engage in, in order to clear the elaborate and incredibly difficult obstacle course that was their final test, barely strained over the finish line before the gong went up.
She collapsed into a heap as her oxygen-starved lungs berated her for such mighty exertion.
She wasn't the only one who was lying on the space just ahead of the finish line with mighty heaves and gasps for breath.
Navigating the course had been nothing short of intensely demanding! There was literally no room for physical and mental indecision or lag. The right data had to be deciphered almost as soon as they were received, and complemented with the right actions in a similar meagre timeframe.
The variety of the obstacles (that literally included nasty surprises that popped up from nowhere; majority of which would hurt an average person till they sobbed in anguish and regretted getting out of bed in the best case scenario) was almost as confounding as the severity of their impediment.
To even make it halfway through the course in twice the time allowed to clear it would be an invariably commendable feat!
The remaining fourteen aspirants who couldn't make it were left to act out a range of emotions and coping mechanisms to the realization that their efforts up till then would not be rewarded at the moment.
The heaving woman finally managed to pick herself up. Her green eyes darting through the exhausted images of the other heaving victors who were either picking themselves up too, or heading towards a shaded open tent of sorts with gaudy pillars and plush looking chairs that was provided for victorious contestants to specifically "catch their breaths" while the chaotic apparatus was cleared for their official initiation.
She could count four others than herself making the proud, exhausted walk to the tent. However, she seemed to be looking for someone in particular. Her best friend.
"Zack!"
She bellowed in a surprisingly sonorous tone. Her brows rising in relief, then pure surprise.
What her eyes fell on after she had summoned what was left of her reserves to outrun the other exhausted aspirants and get into the tent first was indeed surprising.
There he was, sitting comfortably on one of the plush, long upholstered seats in the cool and refreshing tent. He had his legs crossed, and his eyes buried in a book in his lap. Not a single strand of his shiny black hair was out of place, and he was so calm and collected that you'd have a hard time believing he was actually one of the contestants in that row only ten minutes ago.
"Oh, Sharon. It's very satisfying to know that we both made it on our first trial. I was actually afraid at some point that I'd have to wait another half a year to refer to you as Striker Sharon."
He barely even looked at her sweaty face before burying his face back in his book. Sharon knew him since they were kids, so she was used to his nature. That doesn't mean that she doesn't get the natural urge to just slap that air of perfect calm and balance off his face from time to time though, she was just too happy to care for it at the moment.
"Wow! When did you get here? Wait, how did.....THIS even happen already?"
Zack flipped a page and shrugged almost nonchalantly.
"I got here about five minutes ago actually. You know, you really should grab a seat next to me before some other sweaty body picks the spot.
I really hope they get the initiation ceremony over with quickly. There are better things that brand new Strikers could be doing you know?"
Sharon gasped in indignation and shook her head. Giving up on her friend's rocky vibe with a drawn out "Oh Zack....."
Then, she did pick that seat beside him. Naturally, her fatigue made her head lol to the side on the headrest before skidding diagonally downwards with her damp, silky hair as a gliding groove. The top edge of her head was soon nestled against one of her best friend's shoulders and she found her eyes shutting as a flash nap was on the verge of seizing her.
"Just wake me when the ceremony begins will you? And you better not spoil the ceremony for the rest of us who weren't born with "greatness" in our blood."
He gave her a side glance, that lingered till the first of the other new Strikers made it into the tent.
"No one's born "great" but okay."
Every tale must have a beginning. And like all things in life, beginnings can be of very different types. There are the good ones...the catchy ones.
There are the all too familiar generic ones. Some even have the luxury of having unusual ones.
Yet, no matter which, they all aim to serve the same purpose. To kickstart an engine of linked and or disjointed events that may of may not even make any sense!
It was raining again. Another testament to the now finicky and broken weather that an equally broken world must now deal with.
Those who have lived long enough to have seen better days know the difference. They've been told the tales.... prophecies, and educated predictions over the years.
Some dreaded and anticipated it, others just didn't really care. Regardless of which category they fall into however, every single sentient creature alive now knows it and knows it well.
And in today's upside-down and uncertain world, there sure is no scarcity of the variety of sentient creatures that tread the scarred earth.
The Apocalypse has indeed come. And like a guest who got too comfortable, it doesn't plan to leave anytime soon......at least, not for as long as the world keeps up it's pathetic existence.
A particularly loud snort pierced into the chilly air and echoed against the broken mess of rotting walls and equally flimsy pillars that were either standing, or lying in a mangled mess without a fucking care in the world.
An odd location for a meeting of any kind. But of course, the individuals that are to meet here are quite themselves, very odd.
The place used to be a temple of sorts. Shrine perhaps. That much was evident in the remnants of the once immaculate, yet intimidating stone carvings and statues strewn about.
There were also paintings and a gruel of ritualistic paraphernalia scattered about that cements the idea.
Take a closer look at the scattered things tho, and you should get a glimpse into the fate of this once proud structure. There's something about the charred, blackened, rough and cracked edges of the surviving material around that spoke volumes about a fiery end.
Not an uncommon tale. Ever since humanity found their world becoming overrun by the results of yet another one of their poorly thought through crazes, they were quick to try to nip the problem in the bud.
Except that the problem was no longer a flower by then, it had actually become more of a giant tree. The type that even chainsaws would gulp at.
Basically, a complex web of manipulation, brainwashing, propaganda and a host of other shit, culminated in a fantastically messed up chain of events that created the foundations for the world as it is today.
A world where "mythical" creatures roam free, and the humans who once defiled it in defiance, have shrunk to a more manageable population to accommodate the host of other species that descended upon the world.
The rest is pretty much straight forward. The only thing that can happen when different beings that once resided in different realms, find that all their realms have in fact, become one and the same. Power struggles that lead to mass genocide and vast destruction is of course to be expected.
Greed, bigotry and intolerance all quickly boil into centuries of pointless and costly feuds.
The balance of power of course, has always been a delicate one. Factions rising to power and crashing out just like the seemingly tired, yet angry sun rises in the sky each day.
Land, people and resources divided and fought over.....
For years, handful of races bound in factions and mostly uneasy alliances controlled certain territories. The occasional breakdown in agreement or mutiny kick-starting the whole wretched cycle again.
But in the past decade, a single force has risen from the shadows. Sweeping everything and everyone in it's path under it's majestic and terrifying awe.
Territories, coalitions and what nots. They all fell swiftly to it's seemingly unfailing grip. And yet, it seems to only want more and more with each conquest.
It won't be long before the entire world becomes an empire under this mysterious figure's thumb.
Yet....that same figure is the one who is to meet the one whose snort and thoughts coughed up all this rhetoric.
Metallic grey eyes that appeared to be an almost soulless dark in the cloudiness of the rain, continued to remain fixated on a particular broken statue. It seemed to be one of a feminine figure. Not that there's anything of particular interest in it's frame that was broken from the chest up.
It's just that the grey-eyed figure had nothing better to do while soaking up the harsh slaps of the raindrops, than to watch the broken statue do the same.
The broadness of the shoulders that held the long, dark and trim coat covering it's frame pointed to the fact that it was male.
His breathing was a rather steady sequence that featured his chest rising and falling in determined and steady waves.
Beneath it all tho....he was simmering.....simmering very badly.
His neck would later tense when a certain, ungodly chill filled the air. If it was cold before, it was definitely freezing now.
He narrowed his eyes as he spun on his heel to behold the figure of the other member of this meeting.
A sickly shade of acidic green swirls, cleared up to reveal three newcomers.
On the left was a hulking humanoid with red skin and dark veins bulging in them. It was clad in a breastplate of sorts. Complete with what would appear to be three skulls moulded into the thing..... classy. But it didn't scare the coated man one bit. Not even the spiralling horns that crowned it's head and attested to it's demon ancestry did it.
On the right was what appeared to be a wisp of sorts. It's ambiguous and ghostly form changing shape as rapidly as it changed color.
Standing tall and proud in the middle tho, was the soon to be global emperor himself.
Many call him different things and attribute an array of abilities to him. There's even a rumour, that he wasn't born, but rather conjured from the combined corpses of the many species that ply the earth today.
As the unflinching man in the coat narrowed his eyes at him tho. All he could see was power.
Power in the glittering black of his granite like armor, and the thick, long white ponytail atop his head.
The emperor had an air of supreme authority in his unobtrusiveness. Despite being the smallest of the three figures that appeared.
"A living... breathing dragon...."
Began the emperor. His tone a double dose of darkness, depth and authority all at once.
He fixed his glowing green orbs that stood out from his dark blue skin at the man before him. Taking in the pale gold of his skin, the raven black hair that had odd white streaks in the middle and at the tips.
"I suppose, I should consider myself lucky, that you managed to survive the trying periods for your kind that prevailed before my emergence......"
There was something about the Emperor's patronizing tone that irked the calmly breathing dragon. Despite the fact that he can literally taste the power that resides in the armored stranger from his position. It still didn't stop him from feeling like punching that haughty look off his pale blue face!
"I have come to see you personally......you must be aware of my intentions by now....."
As the Emperor spoke, he stepped forward in his unobtrusive manner, and began to pace round the dragon who stood still and calm despite the fire in his lungs.
The Emperor made two trips round him before placing a surprisingly heavy hand on his left shoulder.
"Challenging me would be a mistake. My scouts told me of your efforts against them when you were discovered. While intensely powerful, even dragons need to wade through the hot lake of experience and skill-gaining to realize their full potential.
And from what I heard.....you're quite inexperienced...."
As he said this, the palm on the dragon's shoulder, clasped halfway into a fist. A sickening series of clicks and ugly crunches filled the air as the dragon's steel greys rolled to the back of his head. When they peeled open, they were an intimidating and reptilian gold.
He sucked in a deep breath. Trying hard to restrain himself despite the pain. He would rather die than show weakness to this armored freak.
"Talon is it? Interesting name......"
The Emperor carried on, as if he was merely complementing a friend and not wreaking havoc that would've wrecked a weaker species's shoulder by now.
"I do not wish to be your enemy.....no. it's quite the opposite infact.
I want you, to be my herald.
Talon.....herald of Emperor Kylion....the one and only, ruler of man and of beasts and everything in between"
The Emperor released Talon's shoulder from his very unfriendly grip, then he walked back to his position between his duo of lackeys.
"But seeing as you seem to have some reservations at heart. I have decided that I'll give you a series of tests. One that would awaken your true potential and prove to me and the rest of my empire that you're indeed, worthy to be the herald of the one and only
First, you shall bring me a gift.....one that should soothe the marks of your earlier abrasiveness. I demand that you scour the Earth. Find me that which is fleetingly rare, yet very valuable.
In three moons time, I shall be here once more. And you shall be here too. With you should be a fair and sexually mature human female....
I shall accept her as an offering. Ushering in a relationship and partnership that would be mutually rewarding."
All through his speech, the Emperor's face had been pretty much the same haughty mask. But now as he seemed to be concluding amidst the rising green mist that was slowly enveloping he and his lackeys once again, his silvery brows curved downward in ominous archs.
"And Talon.....I believe I shouldn't have to remind you of the consequences of your failing to meet my demands....."
With those words, he vanished in his disgusting green cloud of death and intimidation. Leaving Talon to turn on his heels once again. Breaths even as his mind raced like a speeding bullet.
The rain still chose not to relent, and it flung pebbled drops at him through the absent roofing of the broken temple.
His grey orbs were fixated on the broken statue once again.....
There are the all too familiar generic ones. Some even have the luxury of having unusual ones.
Yet, no matter which, they all aim to serve the same purpose. To kickstart an engine of linked and or disjointed events that may of may not even make any sense!
It was raining again. Another testament to the now finicky and broken weather that an equally broken world must now deal with.
Those who have lived long enough to have seen better days know the difference. They've been told the tales.... prophecies, and educated predictions over the years.
Some dreaded and anticipated it, others just didn't really care. Regardless of which category they fall into however, every single sentient creature alive now knows it and knows it well.
And in today's upside-down and uncertain world, there sure is no scarcity of the variety of sentient creatures that tread the scarred earth.
The Apocalypse has indeed come. And like a guest who got too comfortable, it doesn't plan to leave anytime soon......at least, not for as long as the world keeps up it's pathetic existence.
A particularly loud snort pierced into the chilly air and echoed against the broken mess of rotting walls and equally flimsy pillars that were either standing, or lying in a mangled mess without a fucking care in the world.
An odd location for a meeting of any kind. But of course, the individuals that are to meet here are quite themselves, very odd.
The place used to be a temple of sorts. Shrine perhaps. That much was evident in the remnants of the once immaculate, yet intimidating stone carvings and statues strewn about.
There were also paintings and a gruel of ritualistic paraphernalia scattered about that cements the idea.
Take a closer look at the scattered things tho, and you should get a glimpse into the fate of this once proud structure. There's something about the charred, blackened, rough and cracked edges of the surviving material around that spoke volumes about a fiery end.
Not an uncommon tale. Ever since humanity found their world becoming overrun by the results of yet another one of their poorly thought through crazes, they were quick to try to nip the problem in the bud.
Except that the problem was no longer a flower by then, it had actually become more of a giant tree. The type that even chainsaws would gulp at.
Basically, a complex web of manipulation, brainwashing, propaganda and a host of other shit, culminated in a fantastically messed up chain of events that created the foundations for the world as it is today.
A world where "mythical" creatures roam free, and the humans who once defiled it in defiance, have shrunk to a more manageable population to accommodate the host of other species that descended upon the world.
The rest is pretty much straight forward. The only thing that can happen when different beings that once resided in different realms, find that all their realms have in fact, become one and the same. Power struggles that lead to mass genocide and vast destruction is of course to be expected.
Greed, bigotry and intolerance all quickly boil into centuries of pointless and costly feuds.
The balance of power of course, has always been a delicate one. Factions rising to power and crashing out just like the seemingly tired, yet angry sun rises in the sky each day.
Land, people and resources divided and fought over.....
For years, handful of races bound in factions and mostly uneasy alliances controlled certain territories. The occasional breakdown in agreement or mutiny kick-starting the whole wretched cycle again.
But in the past decade, a single force has risen from the shadows. Sweeping everything and everyone in it's path under it's majestic and terrifying awe.
Territories, coalitions and what nots. They all fell swiftly to it's seemingly unfailing grip. And yet, it seems to only want more and more with each conquest.
It won't be long before the entire world becomes an empire under this mysterious figure's thumb.
Yet....that same figure is the one who is to meet the one whose snort and thoughts coughed up all this rhetoric.
Metallic grey eyes that appeared to be an almost soulless dark in the cloudiness of the rain, continued to remain fixated on a particular broken statue. It seemed to be one of a feminine figure. Not that there's anything of particular interest in it's frame that was broken from the chest up.
It's just that the grey-eyed figure had nothing better to do while soaking up the harsh slaps of the raindrops, than to watch the broken statue do the same.
The broadness of the shoulders that held the long, dark and trim coat covering it's frame pointed to the fact that it was male.
His breathing was a rather steady sequence that featured his chest rising and falling in determined and steady waves.
Beneath it all tho....he was simmering.....simmering very badly.
His neck would later tense when a certain, ungodly chill filled the air. If it was cold before, it was definitely freezing now.
He narrowed his eyes as he spun on his heel to behold the figure of the other member of this meeting.
A sickly shade of acidic green swirls, cleared up to reveal three newcomers.
On the left was a hulking humanoid with red skin and dark veins bulging in them. It was clad in a breastplate of sorts. Complete with what would appear to be three skulls moulded into the thing..... classy. But it didn't scare the coated man one bit. Not even the spiralling horns that crowned it's head and attested to it's demon ancestry did it.
On the right was what appeared to be a wisp of sorts. It's ambiguous and ghostly form changing shape as rapidly as it changed color.
Standing tall and proud in the middle tho, was the soon to be global emperor himself.
Many call him different things and attribute an array of abilities to him. There's even a rumour, that he wasn't born, but rather conjured from the combined corpses of the many species that ply the earth today.
As the unflinching man in the coat narrowed his eyes at him tho. All he could see was power.
Power in the glittering black of his granite like armor, and the thick, long white ponytail atop his head.
The emperor had an air of supreme authority in his unobtrusiveness. Despite being the smallest of the three figures that appeared.
"A living... breathing dragon...."
Began the emperor. His tone a double dose of darkness, depth and authority all at once.
He fixed his glowing green orbs that stood out from his dark blue skin at the man before him. Taking in the pale gold of his skin, the raven black hair that had odd white streaks in the middle and at the tips.
"I suppose, I should consider myself lucky, that you managed to survive the trying periods for your kind that prevailed before my emergence......"
There was something about the Emperor's patronizing tone that irked the calmly breathing dragon. Despite the fact that he can literally taste the power that resides in the armored stranger from his position. It still didn't stop him from feeling like punching that haughty look off his pale blue face!
"I have come to see you personally......you must be aware of my intentions by now....."
As the Emperor spoke, he stepped forward in his unobtrusive manner, and began to pace round the dragon who stood still and calm despite the fire in his lungs.
The Emperor made two trips round him before placing a surprisingly heavy hand on his left shoulder.
"Challenging me would be a mistake. My scouts told me of your efforts against them when you were discovered. While intensely powerful, even dragons need to wade through the hot lake of experience and skill-gaining to realize their full potential.
And from what I heard.....you're quite inexperienced...."
As he said this, the palm on the dragon's shoulder, clasped halfway into a fist. A sickening series of clicks and ugly crunches filled the air as the dragon's steel greys rolled to the back of his head. When they peeled open, they were an intimidating and reptilian gold.
He sucked in a deep breath. Trying hard to restrain himself despite the pain. He would rather die than show weakness to this armored freak.
"Talon is it? Interesting name......"
The Emperor carried on, as if he was merely complementing a friend and not wreaking havoc that would've wrecked a weaker species's shoulder by now.
"I do not wish to be your enemy.....no. it's quite the opposite infact.
I want you, to be my herald.
Talon.....herald of Emperor Kylion....the one and only, ruler of man and of beasts and everything in between"
The Emperor released Talon's shoulder from his very unfriendly grip, then he walked back to his position between his duo of lackeys.
"But seeing as you seem to have some reservations at heart. I have decided that I'll give you a series of tests. One that would awaken your true potential and prove to me and the rest of my empire that you're indeed, worthy to be the herald of the one and only
First, you shall bring me a gift.....one that should soothe the marks of your earlier abrasiveness. I demand that you scour the Earth. Find me that which is fleetingly rare, yet very valuable.
In three moons time, I shall be here once more. And you shall be here too. With you should be a fair and sexually mature human female....
I shall accept her as an offering. Ushering in a relationship and partnership that would be mutually rewarding."
All through his speech, the Emperor's face had been pretty much the same haughty mask. But now as he seemed to be concluding amidst the rising green mist that was slowly enveloping he and his lackeys once again, his silvery brows curved downward in ominous archs.
"And Talon.....I believe I shouldn't have to remind you of the consequences of your failing to meet my demands....."
With those words, he vanished in his disgusting green cloud of death and intimidation. Leaving Talon to turn on his heels once again. Breaths even as his mind raced like a speeding bullet.
The rain still chose not to relent, and it flung pebbled drops at him through the absent roofing of the broken temple.
His grey orbs were fixated on the broken statue once again.....
"How far can you go?"
It was a question that was directed at the Tyrant several years back; he was still learning the deadly art of swordsmanship from a grey, old man somewhere in Japan then.
He remembered the blinking gaze he had fixed on the man who was easily old enough to be his grandfather even. The man had seemed so innocently amused as the smile that stretched his grey but vibrant face that was well decorated with sprigly grey hairs seemed to prove.
Will had just past enough tests and duels with a kendo stick to earn his very own katana from the old man and his people. It was in fact, on Will's attempt to receive the blade that would be awarded him from the grand-master in the presence of other students and teachers alike that the question had been directed at him.
He could recall the reverberating hot and prickly wave that had washed over his spine and settled on the back of his neck from his humble position on one knee, face bowed and arms outstretched.
He had remained silent for a number of seconds as he carefully pondered a response to the venerable old man's question. His brows had knitted as his mind went to work, and in the end, he did come up with an answer.
"The provisions for my journey are yet incomplete, wise one. I cannot judge how far I can go without knowledge of how much I'm carrying along for my journey."
He didn't look up directly at the old man's face, but he didn't need to. Growing cub as he was then, he had already learned of the virtues of constant awareness. He could see the grand-master's face as clearly as the sun's glare via his peripherals.
The man's thin smile had grown considerably as he held on to the beautifully embroidered katana handle with an equally embroidered sheath to match, hiding the sharp blade inside it.
"Clever........ So then journeyman; how far do you wish to go?"
He had been asked next by the man who now had both hands resting behind him, the sheathed blade bouncing idly against his hip with every statement.
Will had smiled then, his answer to that particular question unlike the first one, wasn't produced as a result of any thinking spells.
"I shall keep moving great one, for as long as life lingers in my bones. I don't land to ever stop in satisfaction at how far I've come."
Looking at the approaching vixen before him now, he felt a bit of that prickly sensation on his neck once again. It even felt as if she had the same question lingering in her defiant and ignited eyes; "How far do you wish to go?!"
That unspoken question leaked into the defiant words she spat at him as she continued to advance like an irritated demon on the verge of pouncing upon it's prey.
She's got guts!
That much he has to give her. She didn't carry herself like a clueless, witless maid who had her head on the chopping block. Infact, when she finally reached him and wrapped her slim fingers around the chain on his neck, she did appear to be the owner of the den even. Pulling the chain and letting it dig into the tight skin framing the back of his neck.
She was bubbling with irritation and impatience. It's almost as if the suspense he was deliberately putting her in was more torture to her than any physical punishment he could wrought on her recuperating form. Something Will himself is acutely aware of. Why else would he keep her on edge as if she was on some cheesy game show?
The cold metal dug into his skin with a vengeance. If she had the strength to do it, she'd definitely pull it to cut clean through his neck from behind. However, his thick neck muscles and her generally recuperating form made that an impossible notion.
His generally unshaken disposition refused to budge even then. He didn't frown or snap, or casually reach for her barely colored cheek with the back of one of his powerful hands in a darting slap.
He instead chuckled and spread his legs and arms slightly apart to accommodate her advancing form even better with that smug grin managing to hold up.
"What do I want from you?......"
He mouthed along slowly and carefully as if he was really considering the question in the nooks of his dark mind. By now, she was wringing the chain so hard that something was bound to break very soon; whether it's her skin, ot the piece of linked metal wrapped around his neck was the million dollar question.
It was so sudden, the explosive movement of his arms. Both arms that were resting on the armrests suddenly clamped around her lithe frame.
It was then that his dark chuckle managed to roll out; howbeit it wasn't as smooth as it used to be because of the force of the chain against his neck that he was downplaying so well.
He pulled her with such violent force against him and with such urgency that you'd wonder if she was his ticket out of quicksand.
His dark eyes that were once swirling in mysterious calmness seemed to lighten up with a sudden passion too. He plastered her against him with relentless force, dragging his hands against the groove of her back. His face advanced too with purpose till his forehead collided with hers in a slightly jarring thud that caused him to rumble out his chuckle in proper fashion.
His thick fingers began to curl into the fabric of her shirt as his hands continued to trudge the enticing curves of her back. Those hands were pressing hard against her flesh too as they moved. He could literally feel the layers of bandages holding her recuperating frame together through her shirt! And it excited him, it really did.
He pressed his forehead against hers as one of his violating arms slowly and painstakingly ploughed upwards through the sweet curve of her spine.....until it came into contact with the curtain of silky black crowning her head. He just as slowly, tangled the fingers of that hand into her hair; all the while breathing surprisingly low intensity flames against her face that was so close to his that he could smell her..... everything. He could even feel the pulse hammering away at her temples; no doubt in rage....and perhaps shock.
He said nothing at all during this unpredictable ritual of his up till then, but then, another explosion was bound to come. Without a care in the world, he clamped the hand tangled in her hair against the back of her head, then he pushed it against his own advancing face...... effectively sandwiching her head between between offending palm and his slightly heated face.
His eyes..... Oh they were liquid now. So much passion churning inside them to betray the demented smirk plastered to his face.
"What do I want from you?......."
He breezed the question out again in a protracted manner. Then he bit her lower lip. Without ceremony at first; his own lips had parted quite rapidly before engulfing the succulent delight and introducing it to the sharp, gleaming white inhabitants behind them.
His teeth clamped against her bottom lip remorselessly, and he instantly began to chuckle like a devil when the sweet, coppery taste of the red liquid filling the said lip saturated his twisted fantasies.
Only then did he unsnap his jaws from her abused lip. Then, he brought them back there; however, this time, his eyes were closed and his breaths became long and trance-like. It was such a sudden switch. From violating chomp to a lover's sweet and rapid nibble. He began dropping random little and equally quick kisses on the abused lip as well. As if he was trying to make it all go away (if only he didn't take that extra moment after each gentle motion to lap at the seeping cut on her lip in a particularly dear fashion)
He would speak again, but this time, every other word was punctuated by a darting kiss and nibble routine. His hands were no less busy; the one in her hair didn't relent in it's choking clamp aimed at securing her head in place. The one on her back?...... Well, remember his fascination with two particular curvy swells that framed the back of her hip? It's undiscerning trudge has shifted his attention there. Not quite groping and pinching yet, but palming and rubbing slow and forceful circles into them. Hell, he could feel the fabric of her sweatpants heat up beneath his palm already.
"Let's-"
Kiss
"Play a game-"
Nibbles
"I...."
Quick hard nip on the throat
"Want you to figure it out......"
The longest stream of unpunctuated words were followed by the longest stream of actions. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back in a sudden yank. He took a sweet, deep breath and winked at her and squeezed on of her succulent ass cheeks now in a gradually tightening fashion. He fingered her hair delicately and snaked his face a few inches above hers in a saturating hover.
"Go ahead my pet, I've dropped enough bread crumbs for you.......impress me"
As his eyes saturated her frazzled form with a possessive gaze, he couldn't help but remark in his head.
This is the best kind of torture for her.........
It was a question that was directed at the Tyrant several years back; he was still learning the deadly art of swordsmanship from a grey, old man somewhere in Japan then.
He remembered the blinking gaze he had fixed on the man who was easily old enough to be his grandfather even. The man had seemed so innocently amused as the smile that stretched his grey but vibrant face that was well decorated with sprigly grey hairs seemed to prove.
Will had just past enough tests and duels with a kendo stick to earn his very own katana from the old man and his people. It was in fact, on Will's attempt to receive the blade that would be awarded him from the grand-master in the presence of other students and teachers alike that the question had been directed at him.
He could recall the reverberating hot and prickly wave that had washed over his spine and settled on the back of his neck from his humble position on one knee, face bowed and arms outstretched.
He had remained silent for a number of seconds as he carefully pondered a response to the venerable old man's question. His brows had knitted as his mind went to work, and in the end, he did come up with an answer.
"The provisions for my journey are yet incomplete, wise one. I cannot judge how far I can go without knowledge of how much I'm carrying along for my journey."
He didn't look up directly at the old man's face, but he didn't need to. Growing cub as he was then, he had already learned of the virtues of constant awareness. He could see the grand-master's face as clearly as the sun's glare via his peripherals.
The man's thin smile had grown considerably as he held on to the beautifully embroidered katana handle with an equally embroidered sheath to match, hiding the sharp blade inside it.
"Clever........ So then journeyman; how far do you wish to go?"
He had been asked next by the man who now had both hands resting behind him, the sheathed blade bouncing idly against his hip with every statement.
Will had smiled then, his answer to that particular question unlike the first one, wasn't produced as a result of any thinking spells.
"I shall keep moving great one, for as long as life lingers in my bones. I don't land to ever stop in satisfaction at how far I've come."
Looking at the approaching vixen before him now, he felt a bit of that prickly sensation on his neck once again. It even felt as if she had the same question lingering in her defiant and ignited eyes; "How far do you wish to go?!"
That unspoken question leaked into the defiant words she spat at him as she continued to advance like an irritated demon on the verge of pouncing upon it's prey.
She's got guts!
That much he has to give her. She didn't carry herself like a clueless, witless maid who had her head on the chopping block. Infact, when she finally reached him and wrapped her slim fingers around the chain on his neck, she did appear to be the owner of the den even. Pulling the chain and letting it dig into the tight skin framing the back of his neck.
She was bubbling with irritation and impatience. It's almost as if the suspense he was deliberately putting her in was more torture to her than any physical punishment he could wrought on her recuperating form. Something Will himself is acutely aware of. Why else would he keep her on edge as if she was on some cheesy game show?
The cold metal dug into his skin with a vengeance. If she had the strength to do it, she'd definitely pull it to cut clean through his neck from behind. However, his thick neck muscles and her generally recuperating form made that an impossible notion.
His generally unshaken disposition refused to budge even then. He didn't frown or snap, or casually reach for her barely colored cheek with the back of one of his powerful hands in a darting slap.
He instead chuckled and spread his legs and arms slightly apart to accommodate her advancing form even better with that smug grin managing to hold up.
"What do I want from you?......"
He mouthed along slowly and carefully as if he was really considering the question in the nooks of his dark mind. By now, she was wringing the chain so hard that something was bound to break very soon; whether it's her skin, ot the piece of linked metal wrapped around his neck was the million dollar question.
It was so sudden, the explosive movement of his arms. Both arms that were resting on the armrests suddenly clamped around her lithe frame.
It was then that his dark chuckle managed to roll out; howbeit it wasn't as smooth as it used to be because of the force of the chain against his neck that he was downplaying so well.
He pulled her with such violent force against him and with such urgency that you'd wonder if she was his ticket out of quicksand.
His dark eyes that were once swirling in mysterious calmness seemed to lighten up with a sudden passion too. He plastered her against him with relentless force, dragging his hands against the groove of her back. His face advanced too with purpose till his forehead collided with hers in a slightly jarring thud that caused him to rumble out his chuckle in proper fashion.
His thick fingers began to curl into the fabric of her shirt as his hands continued to trudge the enticing curves of her back. Those hands were pressing hard against her flesh too as they moved. He could literally feel the layers of bandages holding her recuperating frame together through her shirt! And it excited him, it really did.
He pressed his forehead against hers as one of his violating arms slowly and painstakingly ploughed upwards through the sweet curve of her spine.....until it came into contact with the curtain of silky black crowning her head. He just as slowly, tangled the fingers of that hand into her hair; all the while breathing surprisingly low intensity flames against her face that was so close to his that he could smell her..... everything. He could even feel the pulse hammering away at her temples; no doubt in rage....and perhaps shock.
He said nothing at all during this unpredictable ritual of his up till then, but then, another explosion was bound to come. Without a care in the world, he clamped the hand tangled in her hair against the back of her head, then he pushed it against his own advancing face...... effectively sandwiching her head between between offending palm and his slightly heated face.
His eyes..... Oh they were liquid now. So much passion churning inside them to betray the demented smirk plastered to his face.
"What do I want from you?......."
He breezed the question out again in a protracted manner. Then he bit her lower lip. Without ceremony at first; his own lips had parted quite rapidly before engulfing the succulent delight and introducing it to the sharp, gleaming white inhabitants behind them.
His teeth clamped against her bottom lip remorselessly, and he instantly began to chuckle like a devil when the sweet, coppery taste of the red liquid filling the said lip saturated his twisted fantasies.
Only then did he unsnap his jaws from her abused lip. Then, he brought them back there; however, this time, his eyes were closed and his breaths became long and trance-like. It was such a sudden switch. From violating chomp to a lover's sweet and rapid nibble. He began dropping random little and equally quick kisses on the abused lip as well. As if he was trying to make it all go away (if only he didn't take that extra moment after each gentle motion to lap at the seeping cut on her lip in a particularly dear fashion)
He would speak again, but this time, every other word was punctuated by a darting kiss and nibble routine. His hands were no less busy; the one in her hair didn't relent in it's choking clamp aimed at securing her head in place. The one on her back?...... Well, remember his fascination with two particular curvy swells that framed the back of her hip? It's undiscerning trudge has shifted his attention there. Not quite groping and pinching yet, but palming and rubbing slow and forceful circles into them. Hell, he could feel the fabric of her sweatpants heat up beneath his palm already.
"Let's-"
Kiss
"Play a game-"
Nibbles
"I...."
Quick hard nip on the throat
"Want you to figure it out......"
The longest stream of unpunctuated words were followed by the longest stream of actions. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back in a sudden yank. He took a sweet, deep breath and winked at her and squeezed on of her succulent ass cheeks now in a gradually tightening fashion. He fingered her hair delicately and snaked his face a few inches above hers in a saturating hover.
"Go ahead my pet, I've dropped enough bread crumbs for you.......impress me"
As his eyes saturated her frazzled form with a possessive gaze, he couldn't help but remark in his head.
This is the best kind of torture for her.........