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I love sixteen hour flights
9 yrs ago
Birthday, officially twenty years old today! yikes
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10 yrs ago
Happy Holidays, everyone! Enjoy the time with your families, and stay safe on your travels!
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10 yrs ago
It's my birthday! Another year towards twenty, woooooo
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10 yrs ago
For whoever comes to read this, continue being awesome. I'm rooting for you.
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I might be interested, I'm just too lazy to read up on the IC. ._.
"Regna Ferox, my home. You might recall that somebody important has died over the last few days," Zaino answered, referring to Helena as he slammed a fist into the wall when their rowdy neighbors got too loud for the moment. Almost every single one of these people, he felt an animosity towards, and to Ambra, all he could see was him being used like a tool and thrown away when it rusted. "The daughter of the East Khan, somebody I met just before I joined the Shepherds, now a memory for the tears to come."
Other than delivering the news of Helena's death to the Khans, Zaino also held another responsibility despite the situation that he was in; representing the west in the battle for power over Ferox. He had won and beaten the east champion four years ago, and regardless if he was being hunted down or not, he had to fulfill his duty as the West Khan's champion. "I've also got something important to do before I go to kill my brother, anyway."
Wherever Xanxus was, Zaino hoped his brother knew that he was still alive, and hell bent on avenging the people he had killed. The person whom he had once looked up to and the only other family he had other than his mother, gone for the last thirteen years of his life until he suddenly reappears and murders all of his friends right in front of him. His hatred would never stop festering; it would only continue to grow and grow until it consumed him and everything in his way.
"I don't see why you care about someone leaving who, as you said, adores trouble, when you've got these dogs to keep you company."
"Three's a party!" Xanxus barely chanted coherently, having already drunken nearly a dozen flagons of brandy. He was no longer thinking normally, and the alcohol was now speaking for him. He accidentally burped while letting out a long yawn, cradling his head within his arms atop of the table and knocking down several of his flagons, some of which still contained drink, in the process. Though, he didn't seem to notice, and his eyes fixated on the waitress on Darrian's lap. "Oi, yo-you got'ne otha wuhka friends heya?"
The waitress, turning to look at her fellow co-workers, looked between Darrian and Xanxus, nodding. This prompted Xanxus to rocket from his chair and pick up all the flagons haphazardly, nearly fumbling them and almost falling over from the spilled brandy. He slowly trotted over to the workers and, running into one of the inn's support beams beforehand, began to hand out the empty flagons to each one of them.
"Deh night's still young! Our tayyybel's oppaaaaan!" Xanxus shouted as he insisted the workers on joining the fiasco, even handing a flagon to the innkeeper themselves. With Xanxus and the men seemingly growing too wild to keep in check, they gave in to the influence and shrugged as they began to pour drinks for themselves, with Xanxus and Darrian's table now surrounded by waitresses. With two women at both his sides, Xanxus' vision faded to black as he lost what little control he had over his intoxicated self for the night.
Other than delivering the news of Helena's death to the Khans, Zaino also held another responsibility despite the situation that he was in; representing the west in the battle for power over Ferox. He had won and beaten the east champion four years ago, and regardless if he was being hunted down or not, he had to fulfill his duty as the West Khan's champion. "I've also got something important to do before I go to kill my brother, anyway."
Wherever Xanxus was, Zaino hoped his brother knew that he was still alive, and hell bent on avenging the people he had killed. The person whom he had once looked up to and the only other family he had other than his mother, gone for the last thirteen years of his life until he suddenly reappears and murders all of his friends right in front of him. His hatred would never stop festering; it would only continue to grow and grow until it consumed him and everything in his way.
"I don't see why you care about someone leaving who, as you said, adores trouble, when you've got these dogs to keep you company."
"Three's a party!" Xanxus barely chanted coherently, having already drunken nearly a dozen flagons of brandy. He was no longer thinking normally, and the alcohol was now speaking for him. He accidentally burped while letting out a long yawn, cradling his head within his arms atop of the table and knocking down several of his flagons, some of which still contained drink, in the process. Though, he didn't seem to notice, and his eyes fixated on the waitress on Darrian's lap. "Oi, yo-you got'ne otha wuhka friends heya?"
The waitress, turning to look at her fellow co-workers, looked between Darrian and Xanxus, nodding. This prompted Xanxus to rocket from his chair and pick up all the flagons haphazardly, nearly fumbling them and almost falling over from the spilled brandy. He slowly trotted over to the workers and, running into one of the inn's support beams beforehand, began to hand out the empty flagons to each one of them.
"Deh night's still young! Our tayyybel's oppaaaaan!" Xanxus shouted as he insisted the workers on joining the fiasco, even handing a flagon to the innkeeper themselves. With Xanxus and the men seemingly growing too wild to keep in check, they gave in to the influence and shrugged as they began to pour drinks for themselves, with Xanxus and Darrian's table now surrounded by waitresses. With two women at both his sides, Xanxus' vision faded to black as he lost what little control he had over his intoxicated self for the night.
"As strong as me? Bahahahahaha!" Xanxus nearly doubled over in laughter, barely keeping himself balanced from the edge of his seat. He had nearly taken Darrian down with him, leaning in a bit closer to whisper. His speech had become slurred yet understandable, his voice deepened as it lowered and he placed the most serious look a drunk man could do. "I'm telling you, schlumy; that waitress been lookin' at us since we came in. You can have her, unless she can cook some good food-"
"Xanxus?" A new figure approached the table, standing behind Xanxus as the drunken man turned around to see who it was. The man, whose body save for his head and several other portions around his elbows and knees was encased within armor denoting him as a Wyvern Lord patterned differently than the Ylissean standard and bore a different coat of arms, possessed midnight green eyes and black hair. On his back were two lances; a Spear and a Brave Lance, respectively. "The force is requesting for your orders-"
Before the man could continue, Xanxus raised both of his hands in a giddy greeting and rose, briefly hugging him as he placed his hands on the man's shoulders. "Garrett! It feels like it's been a week since I last spoke with you!"
Garrett shifted uncomfortably. "Uhm, it has been a week."
"Really?!" Xanxus exclaimed, confused. He scratched his head and, already forgetting what Garrett had said, grinned as he began to gently push Garrett towards their table. "Come on, let's have a drink! You remember Darrian, right?"
"Yes. Yes, I do remember." Garrett nodded, keeping his eyes fixated on Xanxus instead of looking to Darrian. He backed away from Xanxus and the table, indirectly refusing the offer of drinking and returning to his previous inquiry. "Anyway, the force grows tired of idling around and requests for your orders. Shall we assist you in the hunt for the remaining Shepherds?"
Xanxus mumbled an 'aaawwwww' and sat back down in his seat, looking truly disappointed. "What say I put you in charge until I come back? Tell them to sit a little while back at the headquarters for now and get ready for a major operation when I return."
"Understood." Garrett nodded again, not speaking out against Xanxus and quickly taking his leave after bidding farewell. Xanxus turned back to Darrian, a wide smile on his face. "He's a good soldier, that Garrett. We go back before I was old enough to enter a bar by my lonesome."
After a momentary pause, the subject from before re-crossed Xanxus' mind. "Heh, the proclaimed uncle of the next Exalt. Might as well make me King already!"
Zaino thought that Ambra was trying too hard to sound like a 'proper person'.
In his lifetime, there had only been few instances where the way a person spoke irritated the swordsman, and for the most part, they were all of noble birth. He had used to always take a casual approach when it came to speaking and typically disregarded the formalities unless it was a figure of noteworthy respect like his mother, and he could tell that this woman hid an identical trait of speech as well. Then again, he did try to kill her twice, and most people who are held at the end of a sword's blade tend to not act casual around the aggressor afterwards. During the period of silence, it had occurred to him that Ambra had been staring at him for a prolonged amount of time, causing him to grow somewhat uneasy before she spoke up.
"A master of swordplay?" Zaino laughed, shaking his head. "You're mistaken. I'm no master like my master. I'm just a disciple, prosper or ruin."
At that moment, Zaino was hit by another revelation: what happened to his master, a former Shepherd, after the massacre? Was he still safe behind Regna Ferox' borders, or had he heard of the dire situation and went to impede their genocide? No, he's wise, he wouldn't do that. Even if he did, he's strong, he couldn't have possibly...
The idea of his master as one of the many casualties bothered him visibly, only serving to worsen Zaino's already-painful and present headache. "Even so, I refuse to stay in the company of impostors."
"Xanxus?" A new figure approached the table, standing behind Xanxus as the drunken man turned around to see who it was. The man, whose body save for his head and several other portions around his elbows and knees was encased within armor denoting him as a Wyvern Lord patterned differently than the Ylissean standard and bore a different coat of arms, possessed midnight green eyes and black hair. On his back were two lances; a Spear and a Brave Lance, respectively. "The force is requesting for your orders-"
Before the man could continue, Xanxus raised both of his hands in a giddy greeting and rose, briefly hugging him as he placed his hands on the man's shoulders. "Garrett! It feels like it's been a week since I last spoke with you!"
Garrett shifted uncomfortably. "Uhm, it has been a week."
"Really?!" Xanxus exclaimed, confused. He scratched his head and, already forgetting what Garrett had said, grinned as he began to gently push Garrett towards their table. "Come on, let's have a drink! You remember Darrian, right?"
"Yes. Yes, I do remember." Garrett nodded, keeping his eyes fixated on Xanxus instead of looking to Darrian. He backed away from Xanxus and the table, indirectly refusing the offer of drinking and returning to his previous inquiry. "Anyway, the force grows tired of idling around and requests for your orders. Shall we assist you in the hunt for the remaining Shepherds?"
Xanxus mumbled an 'aaawwwww' and sat back down in his seat, looking truly disappointed. "What say I put you in charge until I come back? Tell them to sit a little while back at the headquarters for now and get ready for a major operation when I return."
"Understood." Garrett nodded again, not speaking out against Xanxus and quickly taking his leave after bidding farewell. Xanxus turned back to Darrian, a wide smile on his face. "He's a good soldier, that Garrett. We go back before I was old enough to enter a bar by my lonesome."
After a momentary pause, the subject from before re-crossed Xanxus' mind. "Heh, the proclaimed uncle of the next Exalt. Might as well make me King already!"
Zaino thought that Ambra was trying too hard to sound like a 'proper person'.
In his lifetime, there had only been few instances where the way a person spoke irritated the swordsman, and for the most part, they were all of noble birth. He had used to always take a casual approach when it came to speaking and typically disregarded the formalities unless it was a figure of noteworthy respect like his mother, and he could tell that this woman hid an identical trait of speech as well. Then again, he did try to kill her twice, and most people who are held at the end of a sword's blade tend to not act casual around the aggressor afterwards. During the period of silence, it had occurred to him that Ambra had been staring at him for a prolonged amount of time, causing him to grow somewhat uneasy before she spoke up.
"A master of swordplay?" Zaino laughed, shaking his head. "You're mistaken. I'm no master like my master. I'm just a disciple, prosper or ruin."
At that moment, Zaino was hit by another revelation: what happened to his master, a former Shepherd, after the massacre? Was he still safe behind Regna Ferox' borders, or had he heard of the dire situation and went to impede their genocide? No, he's wise, he wouldn't do that. Even if he did, he's strong, he couldn't have possibly...
The idea of his master as one of the many casualties bothered him visibly, only serving to worsen Zaino's already-painful and present headache. "Even so, I refuse to stay in the company of impostors."
Zaino peered at the other half of the fruit in Ambra with careful eyes, even though he knew that it was just an ordinary pomegranate. With just a little more rest, he could finally detach himself from this company and set off for Regna Ferox to inform the Khans of Helena's death and make sure that his mother was well. These people were not Shepherds; the ruckus that was underway in the room next to his was all the proof he need. However, before he would take his leave, he had to find the answer to the question that continually burned inside him. In the first time of the long week, his voice felt rejuvenated and healthy, and he could finally speak normally and not sound like a trapped animal. "I've been waiting for you so I can ask,"
Zaino sat upright, seeing that his upper body was exposed once more, and this time, he couldn't find the bloodied clothing anywhere else in the room. He could only assume that it was Ambra's doing, again. He couldn't understand why she still insisted on tending to him, as hostile as he'd been and still was. He raised a hand up to his forehead as the painful headache continued. "Why are you trying so hard to help me? I don't understand."
The image of Darrian meeting his potential bastard children who all in someplace possessed the Mark of the Exalt and claimed that he was their father at once produced hearty laughter from Xanxus, intoxicated at this point. While his friend explained the plight of marriage, he wrapped an arm around the back of Darrian's neck and held up the index finger of his free hand as if he were preparing to explain something extremely complicated in the most simplest method possible. "I wouldn't do it; I think that Lantus fellow is bad news, man. He's kinda fishy, man."
Xanxux hiccuped involuntarily, which caused his body to recoil backwards dramatically. He leaned back in to continue talking. "I don't know though. I'm just trying to be a good friend and give you advice, brother."
Zaino sat upright, seeing that his upper body was exposed once more, and this time, he couldn't find the bloodied clothing anywhere else in the room. He could only assume that it was Ambra's doing, again. He couldn't understand why she still insisted on tending to him, as hostile as he'd been and still was. He raised a hand up to his forehead as the painful headache continued. "Why are you trying so hard to help me? I don't understand."
The image of Darrian meeting his potential bastard children who all in someplace possessed the Mark of the Exalt and claimed that he was their father at once produced hearty laughter from Xanxus, intoxicated at this point. While his friend explained the plight of marriage, he wrapped an arm around the back of Darrian's neck and held up the index finger of his free hand as if he were preparing to explain something extremely complicated in the most simplest method possible. "I wouldn't do it; I think that Lantus fellow is bad news, man. He's kinda fishy, man."
Xanxux hiccuped involuntarily, which caused his body to recoil backwards dramatically. He leaned back in to continue talking. "I don't know though. I'm just trying to be a good friend and give you advice, brother."
Xanxus disliked Verte.
They had only met twice before Darrian went and decided that they would've apparently looked appealing to the country as a wedded couple; her, a member of the royal family, and him, an 'outsider' who rose from preferred obscurity to unwanted prominence in a single duel. It was almost like one of those love stories that parents and elderly folk enjoyed infecting the youth with, and he knew that Darrian just wanted to give the people a show. As if Darrian wasn't putting on a show for them already.
"How have I been fairing lately?" Xanxus reiterated, having already swept through two more flagons of brandy that a waitress frequently came by to refill. He rubbed his eyes and took another swig, washing away another figment of reality. "Before now, killing a bunch of weaklings called Shepherds. I ran into that brother I talked about before. You know, the bean sprout."
"I've had enough,"
Zaino was dreaming like before, but this time, the only sense he could rely on was sound. Pale darkness clouded his eyes, though the sounds were fairly clear, as if its owner stood before him, concealed by the shadows. "It's his fault that they're all dead, himself included! We're the only ones left!"
"Stop," Another unfamiliar voice, belonging to a man, interjected the other. "Now's not the time to get angry. We need to recuperate, find the other survivors, and come back to the mainland."
"Are you blind?" The enraged voice howled, almost as if it was pained to continue speaking. "Do you really believe that? You saw it with your own eyes! There is nothing to come back to!"
"Where there's life, there's hope. We might've lost everything, but we can keep fighting back. We will prevail."
"Yeah, keep lying to yourself like he did to us. I don't care anymore," The man seemed to calm down, though his rough manner of speech and hint of aggression ceased to relent. "Fight and prevail or not, I've only one enemy. I'm done sitting back like a coward, like how I let a scoundrel like him take lead and march into that massacre. With nothing left to live for, at least I've now got something I can die for."
The other man sighed. "Then I guess I don't have a choice but to join you in your suicide mission, then? That's what friends are for, right?"
"Whatever."
And once more, Zaino awoke beneath the blanket of an inn bed in a cold sweat, his forehead pounding. He no longer felt famished or the arid dryness of his throat, unsure of what had happened. He had went unconscious after Ambra tended to him again. He wondered if all of that had been a dream as well, and if all of them had been part of a large hallucination from the hunger and exhaustion.
And so, it turned out that the people were real.
Zaino could hear noises from the wall that his bedside sat against, able to decode a female's voice as the drunkard he had pushed earlier. He blinked twice for a moment before realizing what was actually going on in the other room, cringing slightly. So this is what she was talking about...
"How indecent." Zaino shook his head, lying back down and finding that sleep refused to accept his request of escape.
They had only met twice before Darrian went and decided that they would've apparently looked appealing to the country as a wedded couple; her, a member of the royal family, and him, an 'outsider' who rose from preferred obscurity to unwanted prominence in a single duel. It was almost like one of those love stories that parents and elderly folk enjoyed infecting the youth with, and he knew that Darrian just wanted to give the people a show. As if Darrian wasn't putting on a show for them already.
"How have I been fairing lately?" Xanxus reiterated, having already swept through two more flagons of brandy that a waitress frequently came by to refill. He rubbed his eyes and took another swig, washing away another figment of reality. "Before now, killing a bunch of weaklings called Shepherds. I ran into that brother I talked about before. You know, the bean sprout."
"I've had enough,"
Zaino was dreaming like before, but this time, the only sense he could rely on was sound. Pale darkness clouded his eyes, though the sounds were fairly clear, as if its owner stood before him, concealed by the shadows. "It's his fault that they're all dead, himself included! We're the only ones left!"
"Stop," Another unfamiliar voice, belonging to a man, interjected the other. "Now's not the time to get angry. We need to recuperate, find the other survivors, and come back to the mainland."
"Are you blind?" The enraged voice howled, almost as if it was pained to continue speaking. "Do you really believe that? You saw it with your own eyes! There is nothing to come back to!"
"Where there's life, there's hope. We might've lost everything, but we can keep fighting back. We will prevail."
"Yeah, keep lying to yourself like he did to us. I don't care anymore," The man seemed to calm down, though his rough manner of speech and hint of aggression ceased to relent. "Fight and prevail or not, I've only one enemy. I'm done sitting back like a coward, like how I let a scoundrel like him take lead and march into that massacre. With nothing left to live for, at least I've now got something I can die for."
The other man sighed. "Then I guess I don't have a choice but to join you in your suicide mission, then? That's what friends are for, right?"
"Whatever."
And once more, Zaino awoke beneath the blanket of an inn bed in a cold sweat, his forehead pounding. He no longer felt famished or the arid dryness of his throat, unsure of what had happened. He had went unconscious after Ambra tended to him again. He wondered if all of that had been a dream as well, and if all of them had been part of a large hallucination from the hunger and exhaustion.
And so, it turned out that the people were real.
Zaino could hear noises from the wall that his bedside sat against, able to decode a female's voice as the drunkard he had pushed earlier. He blinked twice for a moment before realizing what was actually going on in the other room, cringing slightly. So this is what she was talking about...
"How indecent." Zaino shook his head, lying back down and finding that sleep refused to accept his request of escape.
"That's if there even is a disease going around in Ylisstol," Xanxus suggested, no difference in his tone of voice or sitting position. As much as he was skeptical about the sole messenger and apparent situation occurring within the capital, there was truly not a single shred of care in him. Maybe death would teach those greedy people a lesson. Raising a brow at Darrian, he shook his head as his friend advised the innkeeper to bring more brandy to their table, though, insisting that he too would indulge in the drinking. "It's been awhile since I've drank with you. With all those women, it didn't go so well last time."
Xanxus gave off a dagger of a glare as Darrian giddily patted him on the shoulder and continued to urge the man to drink, having only seen this part of his friend ever so rarely. He sighed, finally deciding to let himself loose for the sake of his friend, setting his feet back to the ground and sitting normally as the innkeeper quickly returned with more brandy. He took up the flagon and quickly peered into its contents, groaned as he took a big swig. He hadn't immediately felt the effects of the brandy yet since he was exceptionally tolerant to alcohol, but enough of these and he would soon become one of those idiots that were scattered all among the rest of the tables. "Might as well forget about my marriage arrangement with Verte, I don't favor becoming nobility."
Xanxus gave off a dagger of a glare as Darrian giddily patted him on the shoulder and continued to urge the man to drink, having only seen this part of his friend ever so rarely. He sighed, finally deciding to let himself loose for the sake of his friend, setting his feet back to the ground and sitting normally as the innkeeper quickly returned with more brandy. He took up the flagon and quickly peered into its contents, groaned as he took a big swig. He hadn't immediately felt the effects of the brandy yet since he was exceptionally tolerant to alcohol, but enough of these and he would soon become one of those idiots that were scattered all among the rest of the tables. "Might as well forget about my marriage arrangement with Verte, I don't favor becoming nobility."
Rethel34 said
In Fire Emblem communities, I went as Darkblade for a while
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
That makes much more sense now!
lol text
Rethel34 said @Sol: You recognize those classes? FRICK! Didn't realize anyone else here besides Mercenary Lord would recognize that! (I'll admit though that I was the one who originally hacked FEXP and gave it to my friend Klokinator; Let the hating commence)
don't worry I won't tell on you let me just skype him real fast
Are you, now? I honestly have no idea who you are. O_o
Oh, and Yeti was actually the person who composed FEXP initially as a private thing before he released the code of it to the public
Anyway, I'll have a character up at some point hooray for using the same phrase for the fiftieth time. Working on my research paper for English.
Ah, FE7x I see. I won't tell Yeti, I promise. >_>
"Convenient, don't you think?"
Xanxus, with his feet resting atop of the table, jested with his arms folded, leaning back in his chair. Unlike Darrian and the soldiers who were stuffing themselves with food and drink after days of feeding on what they called disgusting edible alternatives, he simply kicked back and relaxed. He lacked an appetite at the moment, but whenever a hunger festered within his stomach, he ate enough to feed three men. He watched Darrian with lazy eyes, forgetting just how much his friend loved alcohol. After he was arranged to be wed with Darrian's relative weeks ago with the ceremony to occur in time, he stormed out of the Ylissean palace and refused to reside in the luxurious castle any longer. He already disliked the fact that he was being forced to marry Darrian's cousin, and his friend's reasoning only made him resent the whole situation even more. "The capital under quarantine from some illness, just as you were preparing to leave. Fairly... coincidental."
Although Xanxus couldn't quite place his finger on it, something seemed strange about the apparent epidemic that ravaged the capital in sickness just as Darrian was about to return. Its timing just seemed out of place, and for all he knew, Ylisstol had always been clean of illness and never had a history of such. In the midst of his thoughts, the innkeeper wobbled over to their table in a nervous sweat while he held his hands behind his back, slightly bowing in a gesture of 'respect'. The sight of this disgusted him; not because this was a Plegian, but just the gesture itself. "I hope you're enjoying yourselves, good sirs. Do you want a drink?"
"No," Xanxus replied. "I don't drink much."
Xanxus, with his feet resting atop of the table, jested with his arms folded, leaning back in his chair. Unlike Darrian and the soldiers who were stuffing themselves with food and drink after days of feeding on what they called disgusting edible alternatives, he simply kicked back and relaxed. He lacked an appetite at the moment, but whenever a hunger festered within his stomach, he ate enough to feed three men. He watched Darrian with lazy eyes, forgetting just how much his friend loved alcohol. After he was arranged to be wed with Darrian's relative weeks ago with the ceremony to occur in time, he stormed out of the Ylissean palace and refused to reside in the luxurious castle any longer. He already disliked the fact that he was being forced to marry Darrian's cousin, and his friend's reasoning only made him resent the whole situation even more. "The capital under quarantine from some illness, just as you were preparing to leave. Fairly... coincidental."
Although Xanxus couldn't quite place his finger on it, something seemed strange about the apparent epidemic that ravaged the capital in sickness just as Darrian was about to return. Its timing just seemed out of place, and for all he knew, Ylisstol had always been clean of illness and never had a history of such. In the midst of his thoughts, the innkeeper wobbled over to their table in a nervous sweat while he held his hands behind his back, slightly bowing in a gesture of 'respect'. The sight of this disgusted him; not because this was a Plegian, but just the gesture itself. "I hope you're enjoying yourselves, good sirs. Do you want a drink?"
"No," Xanxus replied. "I don't drink much."
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