Bikko Member
- Last Seen: 7 mos ago
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
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- Bikko 10 yrs ago
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9 yrs ago
I come back for nostalgia, stay for memories, and leave before I screw over someones story.
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In
Academia Abyssus: More Edgeyness and Despair than 13 Year Old Linkin Park Fans
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Sacrifice virgin now.
Disciple Cain said
Wait, who's Bikko?
Me. Nice to meet you again.
With nine people in the room the heat had grown to become unbearable.
It was for this reason Carbon's eyes remained locked on the only individual that mattered in the room at the moment.
He had embraced Lightpost's comment regarding his death threats with what sounded like laughter, which was the equivalent of a grim grunt for Carbon.
The truth was he would've taken his own offer.
Joke.
That was a joke.
Ignoring the other people in the room for not only his sanity, but theirs as well, the figure leaned forward in his chair letting his head hang and closing his eyes.
The room melted away in the heat as he flushed away the unnecessary image of his current surroundings. It was a darkness that hooked onto him, tugging at his very soul. The man shivered, an instinctive panic spreading over him as he lapsed further into solitude.
Everything was drained away.
The calm darkness stripped at his grief, his self loathing nature, his apathy but most importantly his self destructive anger. It left only the cool rationale of a sociopath.
One who was determined to do his job no matter the circumstance.
Then the voices flooded in.
Each one was like slap across his face. Then there was her's.
Sadly he didn't have time to listen, so instead he focused on the smooth, carefree but carefully orchestrated chords of Lightpost.
It was like listening to an old church bell, soothing but filled to the brim with a gripping tension.
"Widow from a small farm five miles west of here...searching for her son...three-mile radius around town, but due to terrain...There's been no sign of a struggle, so this won't be a kidnapping or an attack by a wild animal....pay special attention to water sources. Flight level below the tree line will be optimal."
The droplets of information trickled in. It was a search mission with a low chance of having any combat involved.
"How boring..." rang a strangely nostalgic voice in his head, "I'm a big boy now, so why don't you give me some big boy missions."
Opening his eyes he looked up with a calm intensity that was usually expected from him.
"Where's the mother now?" he asked abruptly, cutting off anyone that might have been speaking at the time. He wasn't intentionally trying to be rude. It was just how events played out this time and every other time they had a mission briefing.
"Did he have anything on him?"
It was for this reason Carbon's eyes remained locked on the only individual that mattered in the room at the moment.
He had embraced Lightpost's comment regarding his death threats with what sounded like laughter, which was the equivalent of a grim grunt for Carbon.
The truth was he would've taken his own offer.
Joke.
That was a joke.
Ignoring the other people in the room for not only his sanity, but theirs as well, the figure leaned forward in his chair letting his head hang and closing his eyes.
The room melted away in the heat as he flushed away the unnecessary image of his current surroundings. It was a darkness that hooked onto him, tugging at his very soul. The man shivered, an instinctive panic spreading over him as he lapsed further into solitude.
Everything was drained away.
The calm darkness stripped at his grief, his self loathing nature, his apathy but most importantly his self destructive anger. It left only the cool rationale of a sociopath.
One who was determined to do his job no matter the circumstance.
Then the voices flooded in.
Each one was like slap across his face. Then there was her's.
Sadly he didn't have time to listen, so instead he focused on the smooth, carefree but carefully orchestrated chords of Lightpost.
It was like listening to an old church bell, soothing but filled to the brim with a gripping tension.
"Widow from a small farm five miles west of here...searching for her son...three-mile radius around town, but due to terrain...There's been no sign of a struggle, so this won't be a kidnapping or an attack by a wild animal....pay special attention to water sources. Flight level below the tree line will be optimal."
The droplets of information trickled in. It was a search mission with a low chance of having any combat involved.
"How boring..." rang a strangely nostalgic voice in his head, "I'm a big boy now, so why don't you give me some big boy missions."
Opening his eyes he looked up with a calm intensity that was usually expected from him.
"Where's the mother now?" he asked abruptly, cutting off anyone that might have been speaking at the time. He wasn't intentionally trying to be rude. It was just how events played out this time and every other time they had a mission briefing.
"Did he have anything on him?"
28795...
28796...
28797...
28798...
28799...
The soft sound of the old clock was a comforting one.
Smiling with his eyes still closed Carbon ran his fingers around the smooth edges of his wooden companion that rested heavily on the sleeping figure.
It felt good to have something weigh down on his empty chest.
To have something to hold onto in the darkness of the windowless room.
To have something that kept quiet his nerves during the silent night.
Time took the place of a person, even a child could understand that had he explained why he slept with the contraption, yet he himself seemed completely oblivious to the obvious void in his heart.
The truth of the matter was he knew.
He just refused to accept it.
28800...
The figure turned the clock around and said something under his breath before rewinding the clock a whole twenty four hours. When he came back home he would rewind the clock to the exact same time. The time always changed and yet it never did. It always moved forward but was always moved back to the same hour of the same day of the same year of his petty, petty life.
It had been this way for six months, ever since he first walked into Era'Thet and purchased his first clock all the while still soaked in blood.
It was quite the scene actually. Lots of commotion and eventually...
He got involved.
He was a decent man, the Commander that was, and he cleaned things up despite the hassle. A generous thing had it been free of charge, but since Carbon had Wings, well let's just say it was an investment or a gamble if you didn't mind hurting Carbon's non existent feelings.
The question as to whether it was a smart bet...
The man's face grimaced as he set the clock aside and started to put on an old white dress shirt.
Only time would tell.
Carbon lived in the cellar of the dorm area, sleeping alongside the sacks of rice, potato and whatever else was down there. It was cool, dry and surprisingly comfortable. At first the darkness bothered him, but pit that against the blazing heat and terrible moisture in the air, it was something that he quickly overcame.
That and the only qualm he had with the darkness was the silence that was generally associated with it. There were also the hallucinations of course, but those were pretty pleasant every so often. Sometimes they would take the place of the wooden clock, but they were both the same so it didn't really matter.
Grabbing a potato from a sack, the man cast out his arms and stretched, even being so courteous to the norm as to let out a fake yawn along with it.
He rarely tired despite barely ever sleeping. If anyone would ask, he'd blame genetics.
With that he made his way up the twenty four steps, each of which he had taken time to memorize in his spare time when the door leading down to the cellar was open.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Breakfast consisted of a baked potato, seasoned with little salt but an excessive amount of pepper. There was also a thin slice of bread, which he was too lazy to toast, and a warm cup of water, but the highlight was obviously the potato.
He ate with the same dull expression he slept with internalizing not only the food but also his slight annoyance at the heat.
It was only bearable because he had something to do. His task, his duty, kept him cool in the warmest of weathers and warm in the coolest. It even made the soft rain bearable.
Thus the power of a purpose in life.
Carbon silently rose from the table in the kitchen before placing the seemingly pristine plate into the sink before nodding to the landlady. He preferred to cook his own meals and she preferred to cook less. It was a beautiful simple friendship they had.
He also washed his own dishes when he wasn't busy, which was most of the time.
But he had work today, so it was her turn to do her job.
He ate only half the potato, tucking the other half neatly into his pocket before tucking it into his pocket. Emergency ration, he justified to himself, but the truth was he never had an appetite in the morning.
Or during the afternoon.
Or at night for that matter...
Lovely.
Scoffing to himself, the man left the kitchen.
The walk to the briefing room was a short and uneventful one. Sure, a kid did trip and did nearly impale himself with a scissor, but he didn't so it didn't matter. There had also been some sort of argument, but they seemed to had it working out pretty well. They had agreed to least settle it with a duel. It was a very considerate gesture from the two individuals involved, at least they didn't have to worry about being stabbed in their sleep now.
Catching the door a mere second away from closing, he silently pushed it open, stealing into the room right behind Durmont.
It wasn't intentional, nor did he think much of it as he silently walked past the instructor without so much as looking at him. There was no need, the man's attention wasn't focused on him but rather at the figure that sat to the far back center of the room, his noteworthy investor, Lightpost.
To the left of the room a refined and well dressed lady sat with her legs crossed, giving off an air of sophistication which made the already humid air that much worse.
To the opposite side of the room rested what appeared to be a corpse that had spread itself across the table. He was surprised Durmont hadn't put down corporal punishment yet. It was fine. He was only a person after all.
Taking the seat closest to the door he duly noted the contrast between the Overture and her counter part, Doe.
On one hand we had an individual who cared very much about what others, more specifically superiors, thought of her. A perfect lady with an ambition that could easily level this very building.
And on the other hand we had the ever so "lovely" Doe who could simply care less about what others thought about her. A perfect lady with such a free spirit that it's a surprise she can even be kept in this building.
These were quite the fairy tale princesses, Doe was a more classic example, while Overture was something more modern.
At least from his perspective.
"Would you like me to put you out of your misery?" he muttered to no one at particular, a question that could really swing to anyone in the room.
28796...
28797...
28798...
28799...
The soft sound of the old clock was a comforting one.
Smiling with his eyes still closed Carbon ran his fingers around the smooth edges of his wooden companion that rested heavily on the sleeping figure.
It felt good to have something weigh down on his empty chest.
To have something to hold onto in the darkness of the windowless room.
To have something that kept quiet his nerves during the silent night.
Time took the place of a person, even a child could understand that had he explained why he slept with the contraption, yet he himself seemed completely oblivious to the obvious void in his heart.
The truth of the matter was he knew.
He just refused to accept it.
28800...
The figure turned the clock around and said something under his breath before rewinding the clock a whole twenty four hours. When he came back home he would rewind the clock to the exact same time. The time always changed and yet it never did. It always moved forward but was always moved back to the same hour of the same day of the same year of his petty, petty life.
It had been this way for six months, ever since he first walked into Era'Thet and purchased his first clock all the while still soaked in blood.
It was quite the scene actually. Lots of commotion and eventually...
He got involved.
He was a decent man, the Commander that was, and he cleaned things up despite the hassle. A generous thing had it been free of charge, but since Carbon had Wings, well let's just say it was an investment or a gamble if you didn't mind hurting Carbon's non existent feelings.
The question as to whether it was a smart bet...
The man's face grimaced as he set the clock aside and started to put on an old white dress shirt.
Only time would tell.
Carbon lived in the cellar of the dorm area, sleeping alongside the sacks of rice, potato and whatever else was down there. It was cool, dry and surprisingly comfortable. At first the darkness bothered him, but pit that against the blazing heat and terrible moisture in the air, it was something that he quickly overcame.
That and the only qualm he had with the darkness was the silence that was generally associated with it. There were also the hallucinations of course, but those were pretty pleasant every so often. Sometimes they would take the place of the wooden clock, but they were both the same so it didn't really matter.
Grabbing a potato from a sack, the man cast out his arms and stretched, even being so courteous to the norm as to let out a fake yawn along with it.
He rarely tired despite barely ever sleeping. If anyone would ask, he'd blame genetics.
With that he made his way up the twenty four steps, each of which he had taken time to memorize in his spare time when the door leading down to the cellar was open.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Breakfast consisted of a baked potato, seasoned with little salt but an excessive amount of pepper. There was also a thin slice of bread, which he was too lazy to toast, and a warm cup of water, but the highlight was obviously the potato.
He ate with the same dull expression he slept with internalizing not only the food but also his slight annoyance at the heat.
It was only bearable because he had something to do. His task, his duty, kept him cool in the warmest of weathers and warm in the coolest. It even made the soft rain bearable.
Thus the power of a purpose in life.
Carbon silently rose from the table in the kitchen before placing the seemingly pristine plate into the sink before nodding to the landlady. He preferred to cook his own meals and she preferred to cook less. It was a beautiful simple friendship they had.
He also washed his own dishes when he wasn't busy, which was most of the time.
But he had work today, so it was her turn to do her job.
He ate only half the potato, tucking the other half neatly into his pocket before tucking it into his pocket. Emergency ration, he justified to himself, but the truth was he never had an appetite in the morning.
Or during the afternoon.
Or at night for that matter...
Lovely.
Scoffing to himself, the man left the kitchen.
The walk to the briefing room was a short and uneventful one. Sure, a kid did trip and did nearly impale himself with a scissor, but he didn't so it didn't matter. There had also been some sort of argument, but they seemed to had it working out pretty well. They had agreed to least settle it with a duel. It was a very considerate gesture from the two individuals involved, at least they didn't have to worry about being stabbed in their sleep now.
Catching the door a mere second away from closing, he silently pushed it open, stealing into the room right behind Durmont.
It wasn't intentional, nor did he think much of it as he silently walked past the instructor without so much as looking at him. There was no need, the man's attention wasn't focused on him but rather at the figure that sat to the far back center of the room, his noteworthy investor, Lightpost.
To the left of the room a refined and well dressed lady sat with her legs crossed, giving off an air of sophistication which made the already humid air that much worse.
To the opposite side of the room rested what appeared to be a corpse that had spread itself across the table. He was surprised Durmont hadn't put down corporal punishment yet. It was fine. He was only a person after all.
Taking the seat closest to the door he duly noted the contrast between the Overture and her counter part, Doe.
On one hand we had an individual who cared very much about what others, more specifically superiors, thought of her. A perfect lady with an ambition that could easily level this very building.
And on the other hand we had the ever so "lovely" Doe who could simply care less about what others thought about her. A perfect lady with such a free spirit that it's a surprise she can even be kept in this building.
These were quite the fairy tale princesses, Doe was a more classic example, while Overture was something more modern.
At least from his perspective.
"Would you like me to put you out of your misery?" he muttered to no one at particular, a question that could really swing to anyone in the room.
Rinshan* is the best though. How to not worship?
Ouch. That was aimed at me wasn't it.
GG rest in pieces. Rinshan gets sworn with undying allegiance.
In
Wingless: From the Cracked-Open Sky (Flying Whales and Magical Mecha Kiddies)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Forgive me. I'm terribly unreliable, I know.
I've been working on the whole being responsible thing.
I've been working on the whole being responsible thing.
In
Wingless: From the Cracked-Open Sky (Flying Whales and Magical Mecha Kiddies)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Time to farm up those ERode points.
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