Ammokkx
Member
once upon a time i was chinese
STATUS: you know, my SO never forces me to say a thing that's on my mind and doesn't mind if I don't always explain myself which makes it way easier to actually tell them stuff. boundaries good. 2 mos ago
- Last Seen: 6 hrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 4263 (1.04 / day)
- VMs: 8
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- Ammokkx 11 yrs ago
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2 mos ago
Current
you know, my SO never forces me to say a thing that's on my mind and doesn't mind if I don't always explain myself which makes it way easier to actually tell them stuff. boundaries good.
6
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2 mos ago
if your boyfriend loves you for who you are he already knows what you read without you needing to tell him
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5 mos ago
no, its the manufacturer's lack of a soul that's causing it to act up on you
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4 yrs ago
I'm starting to think I have serial profile stalkers
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4 yrs ago
as much as I'd love to pre-plan RPs, I've also noticed that's the fast track to killing them. A little planning and a rough gist is fine, but anything beyond that and people don't wanna write no more.
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Bio
The day that Moss was hanged, eight others were cut down,
And when the graves had all been dug, the queen rode out of town.
And when the graves had all been dug, the queen rode out of town.
Most Recent Posts
Diiiing...
Dooong...
The hollow sounds of a bell's toll echo down the spiraling stairs. Each step you take climbing the endless steps feels like a step further into a dark, empty fog. You pass by an infinite set of doors. Each one that's open shuts itself as soon as you get near, then opens once you've passed. Some, off in the distance, close or open by themselves. When the light dims from one, the door seems to break off and fall into the abyss below.
One of these doors is different, however. As you stumble closer, it opens itself for you. It beckons you. You hear the same chant as each time you've visited this place in the past.
"Is there not a wish you want to have granted? That one desire out of your reach?"
"Our halls will grant that most fervent desire."
"But if you decide to continue further in this tower..."
"If you set foot beyond our doors..."
"You will enter the Fool's Game."
Dooong...
The hollow sounds of a bell's toll echo down the spiraling stairs. Each step you take climbing the endless steps feels like a step further into a dark, empty fog. You pass by an infinite set of doors. Each one that's open shuts itself as soon as you get near, then opens once you've passed. Some, off in the distance, close or open by themselves. When the light dims from one, the door seems to break off and fall into the abyss below.
One of these doors is different, however. As you stumble closer, it opens itself for you. It beckons you. You hear the same chant as each time you've visited this place in the past.
"Is there not a wish you want to have granted? That one desire out of your reach?"
"Our halls will grant that most fervent desire."
"But if you decide to continue further in this tower..."
"If you set foot beyond our doors..."
"You will enter the Fool's Game."
Idk, @The Irish Tree is still around and is all-around a great guy. Shame he filed a restraining order on me.
I find it odd to complain about having to read on an internet forum.
I'll play devil's advocate for a second here.
Fact of the matter is, most of what's written on this site isn't very interesting and/or good. I'll be the first to admit my writing's absolute unreadable garbage, because we're a forum of hobbyists that all have conflicting styles and priorities.
The problem isn't reading a lot. A lot of people here do read books, or have at least voluntarily read a book in their life. People just don't like reading paragraphs upon paragraphs of boring setting dump for an idea that doesn't sound nearly as cool as it did in the author's head.
This isn't even a dig at anyone in specific; personally I read everything I can, but I admit it can often feel "in one ear, out the other" at times because I'm more "comprehending" than I am "consuming"
Short answer: no.
Long answer: I've been on this site for several years now and the quality of casual hasn't actualy changed. The most you can say has changed is posting speed and frequency of collabs, and even then I'd argue the "old" days are no slouch.
Maybe before guildfall the casual section looked different, but I've never known it as anything other than a mix-and-mash of various different levels of writing skill. Even back when I was more bad than my current level of bad, people in RPs I was in varied from "posts 1 paragraph" to "writes a full novella" all in the same RP.
Long answer: I've been on this site for several years now and the quality of casual hasn't actualy changed. The most you can say has changed is posting speed and frequency of collabs, and even then I'd argue the "old" days are no slouch.
Maybe before guildfall the casual section looked different, but I've never known it as anything other than a mix-and-mash of various different levels of writing skill. Even back when I was more bad than my current level of bad, people in RPs I was in varied from "posts 1 paragraph" to "writes a full novella" all in the same RP.
In
Danganronpa Alternate: Apologies to Hope (Reboot) [Deader than Disco]
→
6 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Monokuma
Flare's declaration rang loud and clear through the courtroom, stunning everyone present into silence. Not even the culprit, Chikako, had anything to say. An ominous laugh echoed in the massive hall, disturbing the silence. "Puhuhu... Puhuhu!" the bear cackled from his throne, holding his belly as he bellowed. Once Monokuma settled down, he casually put his elbow on the railing of his seat. He placed his head comfortably inside the palm of his paw. "Honestly, you kids are the best!" he said. "I can't believe you're still so full of hope and kindness after all that..."
The bear flashed its teeth with a sinister smile.
"Isn't it funny? No matter how you look at it, I didn't lift a finger this entire time! The blood of that girl... the crime of murder... that thrill was alllll Chikako!"
"Flare and Hibiki are right!" Taka shouted at Monokuma. "It's not her goddamn fault! If you hadn't locked us all up here, none of this would've happened! You did this!"
"GYAHAHA!" Monokuma cackled, throwing himself onto his back, legs flailing wildly in the air. "Who cares what I've done? I'm guilty of a lot of things, but not murder!" he retorted. The mascot regained his composure as quickly as he'd lost it, straightening his posture and tapping the edge of his seat. "You know... I really hate murderers," he said. His voice, despite being as shrill as it was, seeped with malice. "Murderers and liars. They just won't accept what they've done... one's the reason someone's dead, and the other's the reason someone's hurt!" the bear explained. His one red eye flashed a brief glow. "There's only one fitting punishment for those kind of rotten people!"
"D-... do your worst! I'm not scared of you! Not anymore!" Chikako yelled back, the desperation crystal clear in her voice.
Monokuma ignored the girl. A button popped up in front of him. He still had more to say, beginning with: "For the crime of killing Naomi Fuduka..."
"...! Everyone, get back!" Ayu suddenly yelled, despite having been quiet this entire time.
"IIIIIT'S PUNISHMENT TIME!"
Monokuma brought down a mallet on the button.
Fever Time!
~Himura Chikako's execution~
One part of the courtroom's walls slid into the floor. A collar shot out from the newly-opened passageway, snapping around Chikako's neck before she had any time to react. The girl, stunned for a moment, reached out to it. The collar had a wire, one which pulled and began to drag her away, quickly ramping up speed as she vanished down the corridor. Nobody had time to chase Chikako as the wall aggressively slammed back into place the moment she'd vanished into it. Several monitors lit up all over the room. The same image was transmitted on all of them; live footage from a dance game, on which a Monokuma unit was having the time of its life. The robot made a couple missteps, throwing off the game and failing the stage. 'GAME OVER' flashed across the screen. The four-directional input beneath the Monokuma fell open like a trapdoor, throwing the bear into the abyss below.
The next time everyone saw Chikako, she was lowered onto that selfsame machine. She had chains attached to crucial joints on her body. Her neck, shoulders, wrists, knees... it's as if she were a marionette. Those chains forced her movements to set the game to a nightmare difficulty, starting the stage. Chikako had a few moments to brace herself as the screen counted down to the start of the game. The chains attached to her drooped down, having been lengthened so she regained limited freedom.
When the nightmare started, Chikako desperately danced to save herself, not missing a single step even as the chains lightly tugged at her. Vivid colors flashed across the monitors for the combos Chikako managed to rake in. Her score grew larger, the timer counted down. Chikako's sweat built up, her breathing was ragged. Everyone was powerless to help out, forced to watch for what felt like a nail-biting eternity. Then, she cleared it. A temporary wave of relief washed over both Chikako and her audience, the game displaying the "YOU WIN!" message with appropriate bells and whistles. After a results screen, another message popped up.
"NIGHTMARE CLEAR! HAVE A NICE DEATH."
All of the chains pulled at once, tearing and mangling Chikako's body in six different ways. Blood splashed on the cameras, tinting the displays red. The monitors flickered, resting on one last image: The former ultimate's body parts dangling from the ceiling.
Monokuma
Monokuma was the first to speak up after the execution. "Oh, how wonderful!" he said merrily. "The look of despair on her face when all that effort was for nothing... I get all antsy just thinking about it!" Accompanying Monokuma was the sound of the elevator doors opening. "The day's still young, campers! Enjoy it, for what it's worth! Gyahaha!"
And with that, in a puff of smoke, Monokuma vanished.
Cythril didn't care about the other two fighters. Even when their teamwork managed to land a blow on the bug he kept his eyes focused straight on-target. He was laser-focused on his opponent, watching its movements, waiting for a chance to strike. As it stood, the duo of females were in his line of fire. He couldn't cast any spells without either of them eating it in the dragonfly's stead. The insect thrashed around enough to break out of the shadowy tendrils cast by the horned one, then started to rapidly flap its wings. Both they and the remaining eye glowed. A flash of clarity shot through Cythril as he realised what it was trying to do.
'Magic!'
The bug couldn't easily swoop in and land a hit on all three of them. The space between each of them was too large, and that aside, Cythril was split even further from the other two. If the insect used magic, however, it could launch an attack in every direction. Cythril focused his mana through his scythe again, his perception of the world around him fading back into a black void. He cleared his mind in preparation; only him and the dragonfly existed in that moment. He gripped his weapon tightly. Water began to coil around the shaft and blade of it, forming a loop with itself. Magic made it so the flow kept going indefinitely, or at the very least, until Cythril loosened his focus. Several blades of razor-sharp wind were sent flying toward him not long after the spell was prepped, courtesy of the dragonfly. Good thing he was prepared to face it.
'Keep struggling... I'll be the one to put you out of your misery!'
Cythril dashed straight toward the blades of wind while keeping his scythe behind him. Before meeting his demise head-on, Cythril heaved his scythe upwards. The water that had coiled around it suddenly shot forward, forming a wave. The wave crashed straight into the Dragonfly's attack, both shattering against each-other. Cythril's sprang into droplets, launched upwards by the dissipating wind. The man used the momentum from both his sprint and swing to jump into the forming whirlpool, rotating the scythe in his hand and spinning himself around with a full turn. The water gathered back around his weapon, taking on the same coil shape as before. Cythril channeled his mana back through the water, making it grow colder and colder until the scythe became layered with ice.
The last part of his attack used the downwards momentum to strike his blade into the earth. The moisture on the grass he struck froze over in an instant. That, however, wasn't the attack. The ice around his scythe drained itself and went into the ground, shooting out a frozen pathway forwards. As soon as it reached the spot underneath the dragonfly it began to collect together again. Within a blink's worth of time the collected ice had shot upwards, spearing the dragonfly. Caught off-guard, the insect was brutally mutilated as the resulting icicle crashed through its left side. Part of its mandibles were torn off alongside two of the legs and both wings on that side, leaving it crippled and unable to take any more flight.
Cythril let out heavy breaths from that spell, his other senses gradually returning to him. He pulled his scythe out of the earth, still on his knees just. That little maneuver was tough to pull off and left him feeling a little drained. Unfortunately, the dragonfly was resilient enough to still be left standing after that brutal attack. At the very least Cythril had managed to land some solid damage. He glanced in the direction of the other two, taking his eyes off the opponent for just a moment. He needed to see what they were up to, if they'd fared well themselves.
'Magic!'
The bug couldn't easily swoop in and land a hit on all three of them. The space between each of them was too large, and that aside, Cythril was split even further from the other two. If the insect used magic, however, it could launch an attack in every direction. Cythril focused his mana through his scythe again, his perception of the world around him fading back into a black void. He cleared his mind in preparation; only him and the dragonfly existed in that moment. He gripped his weapon tightly. Water began to coil around the shaft and blade of it, forming a loop with itself. Magic made it so the flow kept going indefinitely, or at the very least, until Cythril loosened his focus. Several blades of razor-sharp wind were sent flying toward him not long after the spell was prepped, courtesy of the dragonfly. Good thing he was prepared to face it.
'Keep struggling... I'll be the one to put you out of your misery!'
Cythril dashed straight toward the blades of wind while keeping his scythe behind him. Before meeting his demise head-on, Cythril heaved his scythe upwards. The water that had coiled around it suddenly shot forward, forming a wave. The wave crashed straight into the Dragonfly's attack, both shattering against each-other. Cythril's sprang into droplets, launched upwards by the dissipating wind. The man used the momentum from both his sprint and swing to jump into the forming whirlpool, rotating the scythe in his hand and spinning himself around with a full turn. The water gathered back around his weapon, taking on the same coil shape as before. Cythril channeled his mana back through the water, making it grow colder and colder until the scythe became layered with ice.
The last part of his attack used the downwards momentum to strike his blade into the earth. The moisture on the grass he struck froze over in an instant. That, however, wasn't the attack. The ice around his scythe drained itself and went into the ground, shooting out a frozen pathway forwards. As soon as it reached the spot underneath the dragonfly it began to collect together again. Within a blink's worth of time the collected ice had shot upwards, spearing the dragonfly. Caught off-guard, the insect was brutally mutilated as the resulting icicle crashed through its left side. Part of its mandibles were torn off alongside two of the legs and both wings on that side, leaving it crippled and unable to take any more flight.
Cythril let out heavy breaths from that spell, his other senses gradually returning to him. He pulled his scythe out of the earth, still on his knees just. That little maneuver was tough to pull off and left him feeling a little drained. Unfortunately, the dragonfly was resilient enough to still be left standing after that brutal attack. At the very least Cythril had managed to land some solid damage. He glanced in the direction of the other two, taking his eyes off the opponent for just a moment. He needed to see what they were up to, if they'd fared well themselves.
In
Danganronpa Alternate: Apologies to Hope (Reboot) [Deader than Disco]
→
6 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Taka, Momoe & Chikako
Chikako's fingers dug into her arms due to Izo's incessant badgering, the girl shrinking ever further into herself. She knew he was right, that she'd done something unforgivable. Chikako hadn't forgotten that for even a moment. She kept making excuses, running from her crime, desperately hoping to get out of this place. The ultimate tried desperately to not think about how she'd murdered another person, even as everyone got closer and closer to finding her out.
Then, Chikako was snapped out of it by the force of Lilly's tackle-like hug. Just like how Lilly looked up at her, Chikako looked down. She couldn't give her a reassuring and confident smile to ease her worries. All she could do was put her hands on Lilly's shoulder, gently pushing her away. Chikako shook her head. Now that she'd seen Lilly like that, the girl needed to put up a strong front. She straightened herself out, but cast her eyes off to the side. Lightly choking, she said: "I'm... I'm sorry, Lilly."
"This is messed up," Taka uttered, hugging his stomach with one arm and clutching his head with the other. "Even if you killed her, why would you leave the corpse like that?!"
Chikako's eyelids closed halfway. She began to explain. "That Naomi... I saw her grab the fishhook. She was always saying how she hated us, and how she wanted to get out... there wasn't any fucking time...!"
"Huh? What kind of bullshit is that?" Momoe growled, stomping on over. She made sure to put her face right in front of Chikako's, making the girl go stiff and take a step back. Momoe took a step forward in response. "You thought she was gonna kill one of us, so you killed her instead? Ain't that a convenient way to talk yourself out of what you did?"
Momoe pissed Chikako off. She never liked her attitude. It brought out the worst in people. This time, though, it just flared up Chikako's personality. "Back off, Momoe!" she yelled. The scruffy delinquent obliged and shuffled back, disgust still plastered on her face. "I wanted to get out, too! I wanted to fight Monokuma, but..." she trailed off again, her hand instinctively going to her wounded shoulder and clutching it.
Chikako's fingers dug into her arms due to Izo's incessant badgering, the girl shrinking ever further into herself. She knew he was right, that she'd done something unforgivable. Chikako hadn't forgotten that for even a moment. She kept making excuses, running from her crime, desperately hoping to get out of this place. The ultimate tried desperately to not think about how she'd murdered another person, even as everyone got closer and closer to finding her out.
Then, Chikako was snapped out of it by the force of Lilly's tackle-like hug. Just like how Lilly looked up at her, Chikako looked down. She couldn't give her a reassuring and confident smile to ease her worries. All she could do was put her hands on Lilly's shoulder, gently pushing her away. Chikako shook her head. Now that she'd seen Lilly like that, the girl needed to put up a strong front. She straightened herself out, but cast her eyes off to the side. Lightly choking, she said: "I'm... I'm sorry, Lilly."
"This is messed up," Taka uttered, hugging his stomach with one arm and clutching his head with the other. "Even if you killed her, why would you leave the corpse like that?!"
Chikako's eyelids closed halfway. She began to explain. "That Naomi... I saw her grab the fishhook. She was always saying how she hated us, and how she wanted to get out... there wasn't any fucking time...!"
"Huh? What kind of bullshit is that?" Momoe growled, stomping on over. She made sure to put her face right in front of Chikako's, making the girl go stiff and take a step back. Momoe took a step forward in response. "You thought she was gonna kill one of us, so you killed her instead? Ain't that a convenient way to talk yourself out of what you did?"
Momoe pissed Chikako off. She never liked her attitude. It brought out the worst in people. This time, though, it just flared up Chikako's personality. "Back off, Momoe!" she yelled. The scruffy delinquent obliged and shuffled back, disgust still plastered on her face. "I wanted to get out, too! I wanted to fight Monokuma, but..." she trailed off again, her hand instinctively going to her wounded shoulder and clutching it.
"P...pretty?" Cythril said in response to Lisami calling his name that. His ears perked up, he rose to his feet and he scratched his cheek in light embarrassment. He was trying to come up with something to say, but no words came to mind. It didn't seem like the goddess was too bothered by it as She continued to talk shortly after, even without his input. It caused another headache for Cythril, the pain assaulting him shortly after Her mention of the void's wraiths. He had to clutch his head and shut his eyes tightly to not get overwhelmed by the migraine. Flashes of memories assaulted him, taking complete control of him for a moment.
He could remember it all. The smell of blood. The impact of the weapon in both his hands slicing through any who stood in his way. The feelings he had at the height of battle, and his hatred for the gods. Cythril wished death unto every last one, an unrelenting paragon and martyr who lead the people in an unholy crusade.
But he couldn't remember what he was holding. It was like there was some part of him that's missing, a hazy blur among all the crystal clear stills.
He spontaneously stumbled on his feet. Guided by instinct, he backed away a little from Lisami. "What was... am I...?" he muttered, but without being able to find any words to finish the thought. Cythril repeated phrases like it a few times, each with a short break, trying to sort out his memories.
All he wanted before entering this garden was a chance, but what chance? Another swing at Lisami? A chance to run away from his own mistakes? Redemption? Cythril looked up at his... enemy. He should be fighting Her. Trying to kill Her... but he couldn't. He didn't feel at ease. The emotions of what he'd done screamed at him to lash out, to spill the goddess' blood. No matter how much it yelled at him, Cythril wouldn't be able to. He no longer had his weapon... and no longer felt the way he had.
"I... have changed," he replied.
They talked. It was comforting. Cythril felt terrified of Lisami before, but the more She entertained him, the less he felt on edge. It was only a small comfort; his memories kept coming back to nag at him. No matter how much the man tried to take his mind off it, he couldn't ignore these revelations. Even though they were mere flashes, they were undoubtedly real. The cynic inside him screamed not to trust Her, that She had gone mad. Cythril didn't want to listen. Even if his memories are true, the Lisami in front of him is not what the stories painted her to be.
What his memories told him She was.
The goddess had to excuse herself at some point in their conversation and left the man on his own. Cythril didn't like the sound of the "uninvited guests" she used as the excuse. Without Lisami around, his eyes were drawn to the object he'd noticed before. It was Her 'trophy' buried in the center. He stepped over to it, the handle that stuck out of the floor almost beckoning him. More pain assaulted his head as he got closer. The object was nostalgic. Cythril knew it belonged to him. He slowly started to reach for it in trance-like state, but a sudden rustle snapped him out of it. Cythril glanced over in the direction that said rustle had come from. From the hedgerows. Two figures popped out them.
"What are you-?"
Cythril never got to finish the question. A shockwave caused the attire of the all the garden's visitors to flutter in a gust of wind. Cythril turned his back to the other two, but still took a few steps in their direction. It put the 'trophy' in front of his face. He glanced at it for a moment, right before his instincts kicked in. Danger. It took him no time at all to crouch down and a keep his head low. Something swooped by and missed him by a hair's breadth. He looked up, scanning for his assailant. It didn't take long to find. A giant dragonfly, twice the size of a person. It wasn't looking at him. It didn't even seem to register him. The bug's beady eyes were transfixed on the two females that had entered the domain. Protecting it from trespassers.
'I don't need to do anything here,' Cythril thought. He could just let the two of them deal with this. He ignored the commotion, turning his eyes back to the object. 'I don't need to, but...' his thoughts trailed off again. No. This wasn't right. He still hadn't made sense of those memories. He needed to draw it out. That extension of himself. It was the only way.
Cythril stepped closer. He wrapped both his hands around the shaft.
A pain first assaulted his hands, then his arms. It started as a light shock, then bony tendrils sprouted from the object to stab into Cythril's skin. Was it testing him? Were they trying to repel him? He didn't care about those questions. This object was his. Damned be that a nobody resigns themselves to nothing.
With a mighty heave, Cythril pulled out his very own Excalibur. That said, it was no sword. The long, wooden shaft ending in a curved blade... it could only have been a farmer's scythe. No ordinary weapon, just a tool. A blade meant for reaping wheat. That's all he had, once. The one thing he'd been able to get his hands on. In order to defend himself... to rage war against the gods. It felt right in Cythril's hands. It made him feel tingly, nostalgic.
With his scythe in hand, he could feel a hint of the arcane flowing through him. It wasn't much, but it was familiar. Cythril once used spells and techniques. Now, he'd use them again.
He turned back to the dragonfly, gauging its behaviour relative to the two newcomers. His scythe was crying for blood. It wanted to revolt, to lash out against something. Thousands of voices all gathered in his head, crying out in a singular purpose: Battle. Cythril could ignore himself no longer.
The arcane magic that ran through his body began to flow into the wooden handle of his scythe. It all gathered on the edge of its blade, and as it did, Cythril dashed off to the side. He wanted to find the opportunity for a clean shot at the unaware foe. The magic coursing through his weapon first formed to coat the blade in raging flames, then those flames quickly morphed into the crackling of electricity. Cythril spun his body around to slash the air with his scythe, sending a bolt of lightning crashing straight toward the oversized insect. Unfortunately for him, not only was he was clumsier with his weapon than he had been, but the insect had also caught on. It moved to the side, Cythril's lightning harmlessly striking one of the walls.
The situation started looking bad now that he'd lost the element of surprise. Even if there was distance between the two of them and even if it was three-on-one, this dragonfly was nimble and quick to react. Cythril didn't have time to charge another spell, so he brought his scythe up closer. He needed to reposition, but his first worry was to dodge any counter-attack his self-made adversary would launch.
He could remember it all. The smell of blood. The impact of the weapon in both his hands slicing through any who stood in his way. The feelings he had at the height of battle, and his hatred for the gods. Cythril wished death unto every last one, an unrelenting paragon and martyr who lead the people in an unholy crusade.
But he couldn't remember what he was holding. It was like there was some part of him that's missing, a hazy blur among all the crystal clear stills.
He spontaneously stumbled on his feet. Guided by instinct, he backed away a little from Lisami. "What was... am I...?" he muttered, but without being able to find any words to finish the thought. Cythril repeated phrases like it a few times, each with a short break, trying to sort out his memories.
All he wanted before entering this garden was a chance, but what chance? Another swing at Lisami? A chance to run away from his own mistakes? Redemption? Cythril looked up at his... enemy. He should be fighting Her. Trying to kill Her... but he couldn't. He didn't feel at ease. The emotions of what he'd done screamed at him to lash out, to spill the goddess' blood. No matter how much it yelled at him, Cythril wouldn't be able to. He no longer had his weapon... and no longer felt the way he had.
"I... have changed," he replied.
They talked. It was comforting. Cythril felt terrified of Lisami before, but the more She entertained him, the less he felt on edge. It was only a small comfort; his memories kept coming back to nag at him. No matter how much the man tried to take his mind off it, he couldn't ignore these revelations. Even though they were mere flashes, they were undoubtedly real. The cynic inside him screamed not to trust Her, that She had gone mad. Cythril didn't want to listen. Even if his memories are true, the Lisami in front of him is not what the stories painted her to be.
What his memories told him She was.
The goddess had to excuse herself at some point in their conversation and left the man on his own. Cythril didn't like the sound of the "uninvited guests" she used as the excuse. Without Lisami around, his eyes were drawn to the object he'd noticed before. It was Her 'trophy' buried in the center. He stepped over to it, the handle that stuck out of the floor almost beckoning him. More pain assaulted his head as he got closer. The object was nostalgic. Cythril knew it belonged to him. He slowly started to reach for it in trance-like state, but a sudden rustle snapped him out of it. Cythril glanced over in the direction that said rustle had come from. From the hedgerows. Two figures popped out them.
"What are you-?"
Cythril never got to finish the question. A shockwave caused the attire of the all the garden's visitors to flutter in a gust of wind. Cythril turned his back to the other two, but still took a few steps in their direction. It put the 'trophy' in front of his face. He glanced at it for a moment, right before his instincts kicked in. Danger. It took him no time at all to crouch down and a keep his head low. Something swooped by and missed him by a hair's breadth. He looked up, scanning for his assailant. It didn't take long to find. A giant dragonfly, twice the size of a person. It wasn't looking at him. It didn't even seem to register him. The bug's beady eyes were transfixed on the two females that had entered the domain. Protecting it from trespassers.
'I don't need to do anything here,' Cythril thought. He could just let the two of them deal with this. He ignored the commotion, turning his eyes back to the object. 'I don't need to, but...' his thoughts trailed off again. No. This wasn't right. He still hadn't made sense of those memories. He needed to draw it out. That extension of himself. It was the only way.
Cythril stepped closer. He wrapped both his hands around the shaft.
A pain first assaulted his hands, then his arms. It started as a light shock, then bony tendrils sprouted from the object to stab into Cythril's skin. Was it testing him? Were they trying to repel him? He didn't care about those questions. This object was his. Damned be that a nobody resigns themselves to nothing.
With a mighty heave, Cythril pulled out his very own Excalibur. That said, it was no sword. The long, wooden shaft ending in a curved blade... it could only have been a farmer's scythe. No ordinary weapon, just a tool. A blade meant for reaping wheat. That's all he had, once. The one thing he'd been able to get his hands on. In order to defend himself... to rage war against the gods. It felt right in Cythril's hands. It made him feel tingly, nostalgic.
With his scythe in hand, he could feel a hint of the arcane flowing through him. It wasn't much, but it was familiar. Cythril once used spells and techniques. Now, he'd use them again.
He turned back to the dragonfly, gauging its behaviour relative to the two newcomers. His scythe was crying for blood. It wanted to revolt, to lash out against something. Thousands of voices all gathered in his head, crying out in a singular purpose: Battle. Cythril could ignore himself no longer.
The arcane magic that ran through his body began to flow into the wooden handle of his scythe. It all gathered on the edge of its blade, and as it did, Cythril dashed off to the side. He wanted to find the opportunity for a clean shot at the unaware foe. The magic coursing through his weapon first formed to coat the blade in raging flames, then those flames quickly morphed into the crackling of electricity. Cythril spun his body around to slash the air with his scythe, sending a bolt of lightning crashing straight toward the oversized insect. Unfortunately for him, not only was he was clumsier with his weapon than he had been, but the insect had also caught on. It moved to the side, Cythril's lightning harmlessly striking one of the walls.
The situation started looking bad now that he'd lost the element of surprise. Even if there was distance between the two of them and even if it was three-on-one, this dragonfly was nimble and quick to react. Cythril didn't have time to charge another spell, so he brought his scythe up closer. He needed to reposition, but his first worry was to dodge any counter-attack his self-made adversary would launch.
In my defense the last post was "I'll continue this if people are still interested", so I didn't know if you were waiting around for reponses or not.
Yeah, okay.
I'll clarify now for anyone who reads in future then; Don't bother posting in this. It's a dead RP.
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