Oh you guys, I'm so dead. Words can't describe how much I have swam in the
past day. Soreness is my next best friend! (Best friend isn't a swimmer and
boyfriend doesn't count) Oh man you guys, I am so dead. So hopefully this
won't suck. Right?
Griffin: I'm glad you feel better! I am starting to also! Hurrah! Oh Logan's not dead. Don't worry. I like him. See this is what I'd do if I was in charge making the characters. Put Shawn Ashmore with Pyro's powers and Logan's attitude. *smiles* oh yes. Or perhaps Orlando Bloom instead of Shawn Ashmore. Hmmm. Yummy.
Ok guys, here goes. I have about a half-hour until I have to go to bible study, let's see if I can get this done before then neh?
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Logan stalked down the corridor in the basement of the mansion. Students avoided him like the plague. He was in one of his moods so it would be better for your own safety to avoid the man.
Ronin was the mirror image of Logan; stalking and glaring at the floor. Neither saw the other coming and ran flat into one another. They looked each other in the eyes and just stared at one another. Logan looked deeply in his eyes. 'Hmm. The fire's back in his eyes. I wonder what happened to bring that back in his eyes. Must mean he's back to normal.' Logan thought to himself.
"What?" Ronin asked with a slight challenge in his voice.
Logan smiled. "Where you been?"
Ronin smiled mischievously. "Depends, where did you go. I've been looking for you for about an hour. I saw you come in through the back door. So I'll tell you where I was if you tell me where you were."
Logan pondered for a moment. "Fine. As long as we keep it between you and me,"
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The Assassin and the Cleric walked hand in hand back to where the entrance to the mansion was now located.
A slight blush was on her cheeks and a smile that didn't seem to go away adorned her face as they walked. As they drew closer, she wiggled her hand out of his. He looked at her quizzically and then to his now empty hand.
"They think I am someone that could kill at any moment. I can, but I tend to refrain from doing so. But I'd rather them think that I could kill them all. I think that it would be better for them to think I won't fold any faster than I will," she said with a smile.
The Cleric nodded and looked in the general direction of the entrance. A shadow had slipped in. The Cleric squinted his eyes and searched for the ki of the "shadow".
The Assassin saw him squinting and followed his gaze. Seeing nothing she looked at him confused.
"What? What did you see?" she demanded.
He waved her off and walked a little faster to the entrance, leaving the Assassin standing confused. She sighed and prepared to chase after him when she sensed something she hadn't sensed in a long time. She growled to herself as she confirmed what she was feeling.
She sent a narrow blast of ki at a dagger that was flying at the Cleric's back. Her hand instinctively went to the katana at her waist.
"Sulmar," she whispered to herself. "SULMAR!" she boomed.
A tall boy her age appeared in front of her in a shimmer of purple light. He had sandy hair that was slightly spiky. He had deep, blood red eyes that danced in the setting sun. His brown trench coat rustled in the wind and his black pants belied his height. He was a good deal taller than the Assassin was. A smirk was on his face.
"Ah Amys, you never write, you never call. What's a boy to think? That his girl doesn't like him anymore?" he said. His voice was musical and very harmonic. The Assassin sneered at his greeting.
"What do you want Sulmar? Why did you choose now to chase me down? You were the one who left me for dead. It's a little late for apologies," she spat with hate.
He feigned hurt. "That's not nice, especially coming from a High Lady such as yourself," he said with a little bow.
Before he rose, she was at him with her katana drawn. The clash of steel rang through the newly formed prairie. The Assassin glared down at Sulmar between the blades. Sulmar's was significantly wider and heavier than her katana.
"Don't EVER call me that again, or I shall rip out your throat and leave your carcass for the buzzards!" she hissed.
Sulmar raised an eyebrow. "Touchy aren't we, my laaddyy," he slurred.
The Assassin roared and reached down to her ankle and pulled out a smaller dagger. She prepared to thrust it in Sulmar's side when he shifted his weight, narrowly missing the small blade.
The Assassin jumped back and replaced that dagger. She was the definition of anger. Her ki flared unchecked and little sparks danced up and down her body.
The smile on Sulmar's face disappeared and he cleared his throat uneasily.
"I'll just be on my way when I finish my job," he said slipping out of her sight. He was halfway to the entrance to the mansion when her dagger dug itself into the ground in front of him.
"This is between you and me now Sulmar. You can take care of your "job" when you kill me. If that's even possible," she growled.
Sulmar turned around and sheathed his sword. "Fine, if that is how you want to do this, then it's how we'll do it. So, my lady, shall we dance?" he said with a bow.
The Assassin squinted her eyes and a slight smile played on her lips. "You have no idea the dance I know," she said to herself as her eyes began to glow yellow.
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The Cleric stalked through the halls in silence chasing the shadow. It wound through the corridors, keeping the Cleric sprinting to keep up. He finally got tired of chasing it when he threw up a wall in front of it. This thoroughly confused the shadow and it ran into the wall.
"Stopped you there didn't I?" he asked smugly, breathing normally as if he hadn't chased the shadow through the entire basement of the mansion.
The dim light in the hall seemed to diminish even more as the shadow expanded. The Cleric was used to the darkness that the Assassin brought so he was unfazed by the increasing darkness. He lost sight of the original shadow that he was chasing and its already faint ki was dissipating quickly. The Cleric muttered a spell and the shadows began to recede. The magic that the Cleric was using began to conflict with the shadow's magic and so a struggle began.
The Cleric had focused his entire being against the power of the shadow's magic. He did have to admit that the shadow was very strong in its weave of spells; but none that the Cleric couldn't take on.
The Cleric had an inborn ability for magic, none that could be trained into a student even at the youngest age. Spells and the like just came to him, as opposed to the countless years of studying and perfecting them. When he was a boy, there were times that he had no idea where a spell came from or how to undo one. There were several occasions where his mischief led him to several months of grounding and several different apprenticeships to repay damage. But that was many years ago and he had a firm grasp on his abilities now. He could easily control several spells at a time (save for the weather, it seemed to have plans of its own and needed full attention to keep it under control). And so the Cleric began another spell. He wasn't sure what it would do, it was one of those that seemed to just come to him and take care of themselves. It was slightly amusing to him when those flowed through him; they were always a surprise.
The shadows began to compact themselves as the darkness began to lift. They centralized in the center of the wall into a person. The shadows seemed to solidify into a boy similar to his age and height. There was no pigmentation in the new opponent, only darkness. It wore a long shirt and pants that were darker than the night. The Cleric raised and eyebrow. 'Grand. Just grand. Somebody else to fight. And I thought this would be a holiday.' The Avenger at the Cleric's side remained there for this would be a fight of magical ability, not of swordsmanship.
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The Assassin hadn't paused her relentless swinging of blades since Sulmar had challenged her. All that was fueling her was her anger and the loathing of the boy who was narrowly avoiding her deadly blade. Her eyes were filled with hate as she "danced". Sulmar didn't even have time to even think of launching an attack of his own. There wasn't time between her curses in both English and of the Old Tongue.
The first time she used the Old Tongue against Sulmar, he had stumbled and she had left a large gash across his torso. He was visibly shocked to hear the dead language again. But since the first few curses he had lost interest in her memory of the tongue. Insults and promises of death and torture tend to run together even if they are in a dead language you barely remember yourself.
Sulmar began to tire of her curses and of defending himself so he decided to take some initiative. Using one hand to make a half attempt to strike the Assassin, the other had slipped a dagger out of his sleeve and sliced down her cheek. The cut ran from the corner of her eye to almost her jaw. A blinding pain began to wash through her.
"Poisoned?" she asked between gasps for air.
Sulmar just smiled in return. "My own special blend."
The world had begun to grow dark as Sulmar blew her a kiss and turned into the door of the mansion.
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The Cleric and the new shadow exchanged blasts of various spells in rapid succession. The Cleric stuck to ones involving fire and light where the shadow seemed to only know ones that involved, well, shadows. Light, fire, and a dash of electricity hurtled from the Cleric to the shadow and broke on the shadow. The shadow's form wavered and a large hole was ripped in its side. The Cleric threw another of his little combos at it and it wavered again. 'Oh, well that would have been handy to have actually known how to make that one in the first place. I hate when they just pop up!!'
He was nearly finished with the shadow when he heard the Assassin yell to him. "DACIUS, DUCK NOW!"
He was startled by her outburst and did as she bid him to. He was nearly down when a blade flew above his head, rustling his hair as it dug itself into the shadow and the wall that was there. He heard someone hit an actual wall and a bone-crunching thud as he turned around.
The Assassin was beating the living snot out of some guy.
"I wouldn't have cared if it was anyone else... who sent you?. ...why won't you die?!?" she demanded of the boy. Tears ran down his cheeks as she pummeled him. He flailed his legs and arms about in an effort to knock her off of him but to no avail. He did come close once; he kicked her in the face where a new cut that was black and pussy had been planted. She recoiled slightly but threw her weight back on the boy and hit with more ferocity than the Cleric had ever seen her exert. Ever. Period.
The boy had passed into unconsciousness a good deal of time before the Cleric could actually pry her off of him, legs and arms attacking the air with all the fury she had in her.
He set her down on the floor and took her head in his hands and gently lifted her head to look into his eyes. Hers were clenched shut as she continued to kick until he began to wipe away a tear that had fallen from her right eye with his thumb. She slowly opened her eyes and looked into his. Her left was slightly swollen from the gash that was dangerously close to it.
"I got careless and he got me," she said when he turned her chin to examine the cut.
His right hand gently let go of her chin and his left supported her head as he began to heal it. Instead of the normal cooling sensation that normally accompanied his healings, the burning from before began to sear through her face. She clenched her teeth so as not to whimper from the pain. The Cleric let his hand fall when he saw the pained look on her face. The cut was healed but a scar remained.
"I don't understand, it should have healed," he said, furrowing his forehead in confusion.
"He poisoned it. I bet I know what he used too. There shouldn't be any kind of healing for this kind of wound when the proper dosage of poison is used on it. I guess either he didn't use enough, and knowing Sulmar, he did, or you can just overpower the poison," she said with a small smile. The light pink scar crinkled when she did.
He smiled in return but his eyes told what he truly felt. They were full of sadness and slight despair. She put one hand lightly on his cheek and used the other to move his from her chin. She rose and walked over to Sulmar's still body.
She looked down at him with disgust. She roused him with a swift kick to the side. He doubled over coughing as she reached for his shirt collar. She lifted him all the way off the ground and held him against the wall.
"Now, you're going to tell me who sent you or I swear I will kill you. I am NOT the "High Lady" I was once. Now you will talk or you will die," she hissed and he whimpered slightly, looking at the Cleric for help. All he got from the Cleric was a shrug and a smile. There wasn't anything he could do even if he wanted to stop her. Once she was on one of her raging tirades, there was no stopping the girl.
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Ok guys! Christmas has come and gone, and I got a whole bunch of kick ass stuff! Even two pairs of hobo gloves! Yay! We got to Cinci for our meet tomorrow and hopefully I am better by then. My little cold has progressed into headaches and a cough that won't go away. I've had so much Robitussin and the like that I can't even taste it anymore. I have the strongest resolve to bet better by either tomorrow or at latest the 29th. No joke, I'd better be well by then or I'll.. I'll.. Well there's not much I could do but I dunno.
Review for me? Please? Be in the Boxing Day spirit (cause today is Boxing Day in Canada and my friend and I are adamant on bringing Boxing Day to the U.S.) Hurrah!
Griffin: I'm glad you feel better! I am starting to also! Hurrah! Oh Logan's not dead. Don't worry. I like him. See this is what I'd do if I was in charge making the characters. Put Shawn Ashmore with Pyro's powers and Logan's attitude. *smiles* oh yes. Or perhaps Orlando Bloom instead of Shawn Ashmore. Hmmm. Yummy.
Ok guys, here goes. I have about a half-hour until I have to go to bible study, let's see if I can get this done before then neh?
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Logan stalked down the corridor in the basement of the mansion. Students avoided him like the plague. He was in one of his moods so it would be better for your own safety to avoid the man.
Ronin was the mirror image of Logan; stalking and glaring at the floor. Neither saw the other coming and ran flat into one another. They looked each other in the eyes and just stared at one another. Logan looked deeply in his eyes. 'Hmm. The fire's back in his eyes. I wonder what happened to bring that back in his eyes. Must mean he's back to normal.' Logan thought to himself.
"What?" Ronin asked with a slight challenge in his voice.
Logan smiled. "Where you been?"
Ronin smiled mischievously. "Depends, where did you go. I've been looking for you for about an hour. I saw you come in through the back door. So I'll tell you where I was if you tell me where you were."
Logan pondered for a moment. "Fine. As long as we keep it between you and me,"
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The Assassin and the Cleric walked hand in hand back to where the entrance to the mansion was now located.
A slight blush was on her cheeks and a smile that didn't seem to go away adorned her face as they walked. As they drew closer, she wiggled her hand out of his. He looked at her quizzically and then to his now empty hand.
"They think I am someone that could kill at any moment. I can, but I tend to refrain from doing so. But I'd rather them think that I could kill them all. I think that it would be better for them to think I won't fold any faster than I will," she said with a smile.
The Cleric nodded and looked in the general direction of the entrance. A shadow had slipped in. The Cleric squinted his eyes and searched for the ki of the "shadow".
The Assassin saw him squinting and followed his gaze. Seeing nothing she looked at him confused.
"What? What did you see?" she demanded.
He waved her off and walked a little faster to the entrance, leaving the Assassin standing confused. She sighed and prepared to chase after him when she sensed something she hadn't sensed in a long time. She growled to herself as she confirmed what she was feeling.
She sent a narrow blast of ki at a dagger that was flying at the Cleric's back. Her hand instinctively went to the katana at her waist.
"Sulmar," she whispered to herself. "SULMAR!" she boomed.
A tall boy her age appeared in front of her in a shimmer of purple light. He had sandy hair that was slightly spiky. He had deep, blood red eyes that danced in the setting sun. His brown trench coat rustled in the wind and his black pants belied his height. He was a good deal taller than the Assassin was. A smirk was on his face.
"Ah Amys, you never write, you never call. What's a boy to think? That his girl doesn't like him anymore?" he said. His voice was musical and very harmonic. The Assassin sneered at his greeting.
"What do you want Sulmar? Why did you choose now to chase me down? You were the one who left me for dead. It's a little late for apologies," she spat with hate.
He feigned hurt. "That's not nice, especially coming from a High Lady such as yourself," he said with a little bow.
Before he rose, she was at him with her katana drawn. The clash of steel rang through the newly formed prairie. The Assassin glared down at Sulmar between the blades. Sulmar's was significantly wider and heavier than her katana.
"Don't EVER call me that again, or I shall rip out your throat and leave your carcass for the buzzards!" she hissed.
Sulmar raised an eyebrow. "Touchy aren't we, my laaddyy," he slurred.
The Assassin roared and reached down to her ankle and pulled out a smaller dagger. She prepared to thrust it in Sulmar's side when he shifted his weight, narrowly missing the small blade.
The Assassin jumped back and replaced that dagger. She was the definition of anger. Her ki flared unchecked and little sparks danced up and down her body.
The smile on Sulmar's face disappeared and he cleared his throat uneasily.
"I'll just be on my way when I finish my job," he said slipping out of her sight. He was halfway to the entrance to the mansion when her dagger dug itself into the ground in front of him.
"This is between you and me now Sulmar. You can take care of your "job" when you kill me. If that's even possible," she growled.
Sulmar turned around and sheathed his sword. "Fine, if that is how you want to do this, then it's how we'll do it. So, my lady, shall we dance?" he said with a bow.
The Assassin squinted her eyes and a slight smile played on her lips. "You have no idea the dance I know," she said to herself as her eyes began to glow yellow.
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The Cleric stalked through the halls in silence chasing the shadow. It wound through the corridors, keeping the Cleric sprinting to keep up. He finally got tired of chasing it when he threw up a wall in front of it. This thoroughly confused the shadow and it ran into the wall.
"Stopped you there didn't I?" he asked smugly, breathing normally as if he hadn't chased the shadow through the entire basement of the mansion.
The dim light in the hall seemed to diminish even more as the shadow expanded. The Cleric was used to the darkness that the Assassin brought so he was unfazed by the increasing darkness. He lost sight of the original shadow that he was chasing and its already faint ki was dissipating quickly. The Cleric muttered a spell and the shadows began to recede. The magic that the Cleric was using began to conflict with the shadow's magic and so a struggle began.
The Cleric had focused his entire being against the power of the shadow's magic. He did have to admit that the shadow was very strong in its weave of spells; but none that the Cleric couldn't take on.
The Cleric had an inborn ability for magic, none that could be trained into a student even at the youngest age. Spells and the like just came to him, as opposed to the countless years of studying and perfecting them. When he was a boy, there were times that he had no idea where a spell came from or how to undo one. There were several occasions where his mischief led him to several months of grounding and several different apprenticeships to repay damage. But that was many years ago and he had a firm grasp on his abilities now. He could easily control several spells at a time (save for the weather, it seemed to have plans of its own and needed full attention to keep it under control). And so the Cleric began another spell. He wasn't sure what it would do, it was one of those that seemed to just come to him and take care of themselves. It was slightly amusing to him when those flowed through him; they were always a surprise.
The shadows began to compact themselves as the darkness began to lift. They centralized in the center of the wall into a person. The shadows seemed to solidify into a boy similar to his age and height. There was no pigmentation in the new opponent, only darkness. It wore a long shirt and pants that were darker than the night. The Cleric raised and eyebrow. 'Grand. Just grand. Somebody else to fight. And I thought this would be a holiday.' The Avenger at the Cleric's side remained there for this would be a fight of magical ability, not of swordsmanship.
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The Assassin hadn't paused her relentless swinging of blades since Sulmar had challenged her. All that was fueling her was her anger and the loathing of the boy who was narrowly avoiding her deadly blade. Her eyes were filled with hate as she "danced". Sulmar didn't even have time to even think of launching an attack of his own. There wasn't time between her curses in both English and of the Old Tongue.
The first time she used the Old Tongue against Sulmar, he had stumbled and she had left a large gash across his torso. He was visibly shocked to hear the dead language again. But since the first few curses he had lost interest in her memory of the tongue. Insults and promises of death and torture tend to run together even if they are in a dead language you barely remember yourself.
Sulmar began to tire of her curses and of defending himself so he decided to take some initiative. Using one hand to make a half attempt to strike the Assassin, the other had slipped a dagger out of his sleeve and sliced down her cheek. The cut ran from the corner of her eye to almost her jaw. A blinding pain began to wash through her.
"Poisoned?" she asked between gasps for air.
Sulmar just smiled in return. "My own special blend."
The world had begun to grow dark as Sulmar blew her a kiss and turned into the door of the mansion.
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The Cleric and the new shadow exchanged blasts of various spells in rapid succession. The Cleric stuck to ones involving fire and light where the shadow seemed to only know ones that involved, well, shadows. Light, fire, and a dash of electricity hurtled from the Cleric to the shadow and broke on the shadow. The shadow's form wavered and a large hole was ripped in its side. The Cleric threw another of his little combos at it and it wavered again. 'Oh, well that would have been handy to have actually known how to make that one in the first place. I hate when they just pop up!!'
He was nearly finished with the shadow when he heard the Assassin yell to him. "DACIUS, DUCK NOW!"
He was startled by her outburst and did as she bid him to. He was nearly down when a blade flew above his head, rustling his hair as it dug itself into the shadow and the wall that was there. He heard someone hit an actual wall and a bone-crunching thud as he turned around.
The Assassin was beating the living snot out of some guy.
"I wouldn't have cared if it was anyone else... who sent you?. ...why won't you die?!?" she demanded of the boy. Tears ran down his cheeks as she pummeled him. He flailed his legs and arms about in an effort to knock her off of him but to no avail. He did come close once; he kicked her in the face where a new cut that was black and pussy had been planted. She recoiled slightly but threw her weight back on the boy and hit with more ferocity than the Cleric had ever seen her exert. Ever. Period.
The boy had passed into unconsciousness a good deal of time before the Cleric could actually pry her off of him, legs and arms attacking the air with all the fury she had in her.
He set her down on the floor and took her head in his hands and gently lifted her head to look into his eyes. Hers were clenched shut as she continued to kick until he began to wipe away a tear that had fallen from her right eye with his thumb. She slowly opened her eyes and looked into his. Her left was slightly swollen from the gash that was dangerously close to it.
"I got careless and he got me," she said when he turned her chin to examine the cut.
His right hand gently let go of her chin and his left supported her head as he began to heal it. Instead of the normal cooling sensation that normally accompanied his healings, the burning from before began to sear through her face. She clenched her teeth so as not to whimper from the pain. The Cleric let his hand fall when he saw the pained look on her face. The cut was healed but a scar remained.
"I don't understand, it should have healed," he said, furrowing his forehead in confusion.
"He poisoned it. I bet I know what he used too. There shouldn't be any kind of healing for this kind of wound when the proper dosage of poison is used on it. I guess either he didn't use enough, and knowing Sulmar, he did, or you can just overpower the poison," she said with a small smile. The light pink scar crinkled when she did.
He smiled in return but his eyes told what he truly felt. They were full of sadness and slight despair. She put one hand lightly on his cheek and used the other to move his from her chin. She rose and walked over to Sulmar's still body.
She looked down at him with disgust. She roused him with a swift kick to the side. He doubled over coughing as she reached for his shirt collar. She lifted him all the way off the ground and held him against the wall.
"Now, you're going to tell me who sent you or I swear I will kill you. I am NOT the "High Lady" I was once. Now you will talk or you will die," she hissed and he whimpered slightly, looking at the Cleric for help. All he got from the Cleric was a shrug and a smile. There wasn't anything he could do even if he wanted to stop her. Once she was on one of her raging tirades, there was no stopping the girl.
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Ok guys! Christmas has come and gone, and I got a whole bunch of kick ass stuff! Even two pairs of hobo gloves! Yay! We got to Cinci for our meet tomorrow and hopefully I am better by then. My little cold has progressed into headaches and a cough that won't go away. I've had so much Robitussin and the like that I can't even taste it anymore. I have the strongest resolve to bet better by either tomorrow or at latest the 29th. No joke, I'd better be well by then or I'll.. I'll.. Well there's not much I could do but I dunno.
Review for me? Please? Be in the Boxing Day spirit (cause today is Boxing Day in Canada and my friend and I are adamant on bringing Boxing Day to the U.S.) Hurrah!