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| Yaidratian Emacity [Part 4]; All Your Own Stunts - Medium Quest | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 22 2015, 01:28 PM (225 Views) | |
| OldNewPikkon | Jun 22 2015, 01:28 PM Post #1 |
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Experienced Member
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All Your Own Stunts Difficulty: Medium Description: Your super powers have impressed a famed movie producer. He asks you to meet him at lunch to discuss making a movie with you as the main star. You would use your amazing abilities to dazzle the big screen with realistic images instead of that fake CGI bull-shat. After being hired you are whisked away onto set. But it's not what you expected. Your director is a tyrant. Figure out a way to deal with his perfectionism and make a damn good movie! Reward: +500 zeni, +5 DP, +40 all stats, +5 Rp Credits Bonus: +100 zeni, +10 all stats |
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| Lilly | Jun 23 2015, 09:57 PM Post #2 |
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Hope-Bearer
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"Pikkon, my son. Come down from there," the Elder of Yaidrat beckoned him to descend into the main console room. Despite all of the chaos happening around them, everything seemed to lessen with the vibrations sent by the old vocal cords. "But I-" "It's over. Join us," the Elder interrupted the green-alien's would-be rebuttal swiftly. Everybody in the ship must have silently questioned the Elder and his course of action. They had a fighter ship coming for them, after having escaped the moon-base just outside of Earth. Not only that, but the acts of violence and murder would forever stain those secure halls and mark them as wanted people. "But we can escape! We'll just avoid the Protectorate planets at all costs!" Persephone said. Upon seeing the Elder's look of disapproval (which she could tell quite easy,) she slammed her blood-caked fists upon the console in rage. The sides of her lips curled upward ever so slightly as she rose her head to meet gaze with the enemy ship. Reflected from the window of the console hub, was a face she could scarcely recognize. Even with the heavy fabric wrapped and covering her eyes, the bloodthirsty, merciless look was evident. Each thud from the heart encased in the woman's chest grew louder, and louder. Faster and faster until the steady rhythm was all that filled her ears. The beating heart was such sweet, beautiful, music. But it's allure was cut short. Persephone regained herself and straightened up, turning to face the Elder and her comrades. Brushing off their emotional looks, the woman sighed in defeat. "We'll do it your way," "Good. Now let me take head and the rest of you stand closely behind me. I do not want any of you reckless youths to take a head diive with what i'm about to do!" the Elder said, an formally dormant excitement could be heard in his voice, renewed and ready! The old Yaidration stretched his fingers out and took a glance at the console for a moment. One hand went to a small lever and yanked it down smoothly. The entire ship lurched upward - the enemy fighter followed. Elder flipped another switch, and a red square lit up over the window and began tracking down the crazed guard and his mobile weapon. Beep beep! the square had found and locked on it's intended target. "Today, we die with honor!" was the Elder's battle cry! A gasp could be heard from behind him, but he paid no attention to it. True to his intention, the Yaidration once more pushed a lever forward, but this time the entire ship creaked and came tumbling down at the enemy ship! -- "Command, the escapee's are headed toward Earth. I have them in my sights and they won't be getting away. Those Damaskian scum will pay for what they did to Jimbo!" the uniformed man said. Thick strands of hatred laced every word he spoke, even causing his body to shake with rage. Off in the distance he could see the enemy ship stalled. Why. What were they doing? Ultimately, it didn't matter. It only left them wide open targets for an Ion Cannon. A smirk formed across the distorted face as he typed the command to charge the beam. 30% The stolen ship darted upwards, and looked down upon him from an elevated position. It would appear as if the scum had some fight left in them. It would not matter.. they would be just another space corpse after he was finished with them! 60% After the momentary calm, the ship lurched forward and came shooting down at an accelerated speed. They wanted to play chicken, huh? "Come, meet your death you Dumbasskians," he growled to himself. One finger slammed down on the button that controlled the fixed side turrets. A hail of bullets came shooting from the outside gun. Much to his satisfaction, the left wing took a few hits and send the ship spiraling out of control... and into his trajectory! "Command, we have an issue! They're going to coll-" Before the sentence could be finished, the damaged ship turned on it's last boost to cover the ground between the two juggernauts. The charge on the ion cannon never reached 90%. -- "You're fucking crazy!" Persephone gasped, running her hands along her face to calm the heat from the explosion. In the process, she tore off the cloth that cover her deep-red eyes. They weren't in the next dimension, they weren't dead! The blue skies that surround them, the green field of grass that lay under them, and the white-capped mountains off in the distance were clear indicators of where they were at. Earth. "How did you-" "Mass Instant Transmission," the Yaidration said. "You don't get to Elder status without learning a few tricks along the way," (Word Count: 805) (Persephone Count: 805) (Quest Count: 805) |
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| Pikkon | Jun 24 2015, 11:18 PM Post #3 |
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Tale-Spinner
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haha dat moment when |
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| OldNewPikkon | Jun 24 2015, 11:19 PM Post #4 |
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As the shock of the past few moments wore off, Pikkon stopped crouching and began to take in his surroundings with a wonderment that was somewhat merited. The tranquil dirt road they’d ended up on led downward to a picture-perfect town, with brick chimneys and cobblestoned roads, and various humans and almost-humans doing quiet chores in the spring air. Walking to the side of the road, Pikkon mumbled the words on the sign under his breath: “Western Townhouse Village...” Underneath it, in small letters, it said: West City, 5 Miles! “Missed it by a smidge, I suppose,” Elder noted, melancholy. “I guess this is good enough, though, I’m getting old, anyway.” Starting to walk down the path, completely ignoring everybody else, he called over his shoulder, “Well, hurry up, will you? It’s almost sunset, and I’d rather not show up on their doorstep looking like criminals, or worse.” At that last bit, he gave Pikkon a particularly significant look. Unaware of the implications Elder had put on him just then, the Vecherkan took advantage of Elder’s eye contact to ask, “Why do we need to get there, exactly? Is that where the contact is? And what’s this contact gonna even do for us anyway? You still haven’t given us any details.” “No, the contacts are not in the town. They’ll be in the city. However, we’re gonna need to stay with one of these families tonight, son, because my old bones are NOT walking all the way to West City and I’m far too weary now to try another Mass Transmission. This last one already has my glaucoma acting up.” Unsure what to say in reply, Pikkon just nodded. It was impossible to miss that Elder had dodged the question about what the contacts were going to do, but he’d been avoiding answering that for so long that the alien didn’t even acknowledge it. “Onward, then.” Narvi continued to trek alongside Persephone, whose fists were still stained with the blood of the guard she had brutally killed on the spaceport. He then suddenly asked of her, ”Do you want to get your hands washed somewhere when we enter town?” It was the demon’s sad attempt at small talk. Persephone flipped her dark hair with one red-tinged hand as if it was nothing while they walked along. After the initial shock of being on the verge of a suicidal head on collision had worn off, she quickly came to enjoy the Earth’s atmosphere. “I don’t know. Maybe if we find a stream. It doesn’t bother me much,” she said nonchalantly. “Does the sight of blood unnerve you?” The female’s nonchalant tone irked the demon to a small degree, but he did not let it show on his visage, as it was as stoic as ever. When he had entered the mortal realm, he made it his business to stay as far away as them as possible. Him and his brother only had one goal, and that was to free their father from imprisonment by gathering evidence however they could. They had made very minimal progress in that regard, and Narvi himself had become more involved with mortals than he had ever thought he would. ”Yes, it does,” He answered in a soft, almost somber tone. But the woman’s question did bring up another one that he had wished to ask her with regards to her situation on Damaskia. ”How many people did you have to kill while you were on Damasia?” The question was a loaded one, obviously. Persephone gave off a light-hearted chuckle, as if her companion had told a corny joke. How many people had she killed on Damaskia? The question could be split up into sub questions. How many people did she kill willingly? How many was she ordered to? How many were forced? “You don’t want to know,” was the answer she settled upon. Not the most subtle of answers, but it would cease his inquiry. Unless it was a major topic on his mind. Or at least, she had hoped. “What of you? How many have you murdered in your lifetime?” she attempted to twist the question back onto him. ”None,” His response was immediate, so much so that the demon was unable to hide the sharpness of his tone. The very thought of being the one to bring harm to mortals sickened him a lot more than it would sicken any other demon, but Narvi wasn’t like most demons after all. ”I have taken an oath not to harm mortals,” That was the most he could say without going into too much detail. He knew the stigma mortals had when it came to demons, his acquaintances would cast him out without a second thought. He was the least like the rest, well, except for perhaps one other person in the group…. ”Tell me, Pikkon,” Narvi suddenly said. ”You don’t look like a Namekian, but some come in different shades and sizes as well, perhaps you could clue me in on this?” Pikkon listened to the two talk while they walked and tried not to draw too much attention to himself. What, now we're discussing our kills nonchalantly? Counting our bodies with light chuckles and happy faces? This wasn’t directed nearly as much at Narvi as it was Persephone and Elder, who was whistling a happy tune in the background, but whatever Narvi claimed, he was still a demon, so his words had to be taken with a grain of salt. Turning around to face the two of them after being called, Pikkon started walking backwards, struggling to keep a neutral face as he pieced together a response. “No... you’re right. I’m not a... uh... a Namekian.” He considered stopping there, but after a short pause, clenching his jaw, he added, “I don’t think any of us feel comfortable talking about where we’re from.” “There is no issue with representing your planet, country or hometown. I am Yaidratian, and very proud of it. In fact…” the Elder paused for a moment, staring off into the distance. “Nevermind. We will discuss this more when we get to the location,” Persephone tilted her head slightly, with a curious look at the Elder. Clearly, she was not going to be the only one to pick up on that cryptic sentence. But that admission set something off inside of her. “I am from Damaskia. Born and raised into the Shadowguard,” she stated. While it wasn’t the full truth, it was true enough. All of the tiny details of her upbringing and “forced” training could easily be spared and nothing would be missed. Turning to face the demon, she smirked ever so slightly. “That is why I have killed so many. And I will continue to do so if need be.” Word Count: 1,130[split 3 ways] Pikkon Count: 377 Narvi Count: 377 Bebi Count: 1,182 Total Count: 1,935 |
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| OldNewPikkon | Jun 25 2015, 10:16 PM Post #5 |
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Narvi silently listened to Pikkon’s words. The demon knew he was correct when he suspected that the green-skinned alien was not in fact, a Namekian. While his features were similar to that of a Namekian, there were some key differences as well, such as the protrusion of his lips or his “ears”. Namekians were widely known for their large ears, but if one were to lay their eyes on Pikkon, they’d wonder how he was able to hear anything at all. When Pikkon stated that no one would feel comfortable sharing their background, he silently agreed, but then after The Elder gave his words of wisdom, he wasn’t as sure as he thought he was. Shouldn’t the demon want to change how demons were looked at instead of choosing to hide in the shadows and accept being shunned? The truth of the matter was that Narvi was as afraid of mortals as he believed they were of him. He didn’t want to be outcasted due to the circumstances of his birth, so why not take the leap of faith? Persephone stated that she was born and raised in Damaskia, which didn’t surprise Narvi that much. Although it was true that he didn’t suspect that the female was a natural Damaskian (the color of her hair didn’t match the typical description of a Damaskian) it did at least explain her mannerisms, or lack thereof. The Shadowguard were the elite of the elite on planet Damaskia, Persephone was perhaps ordered to do things that Narvi couldn’t imagine, so he knew that he couldn’t be too quick to judge. He hoped that he would get the same benefit. “Since we are all in the sharing mood,” Narvi started. ”I believe that it is only right that I inform you that I am a demon, born and raised in Hell, a spawn of the demon Loki who has been imprisoned by Lucifer himself.” He paused for a moment. He didn’t know if he should expand on what he had just said, but opted to do so anyways. “I was banished from Hell along with my brother, Lavi, since we were Loki’s kin. My father was imprisoned for slander and conspiracy to over take Lucifer’s throne, but my brother and I believe it to have been the work of a demon who has taken residence in the Mortal Realm,” The demon eyed The Elder. “In Yaidrat no less.” There was a slight pause as he realized that he would perhaps get a rise out of The Elder, or perhaps something of an astonished look. “But we found nothing, and we continue to find nothing.” “Perhaps he’s guilty,” Pikkon finally said. It would be cruel to say to most other people, but to creatures of chaos, the thought of someone being framed as committing a crime both sounded ludicrous and entirely probable, depending on from what perspective it’s being viewed.Persephone quietly nodded in agreement with Pikkon’s comment. Elder, for the moment, remained silent. It was exceedingly rare for anything to affect Narvi, but Pikkon’s words were a part of the rare exception. For but a brief moment the demon’s stoic gaze dropped, and his eyes flashed with fire and brimstone. But just as quickly as his eyes had ignited did his emotions settle down, washed away with a new wave of calm. ”You raise a fair point,” Narvi didn’t want to admit it, but he had to give Pikkon credit. ”However, you don’t know my father like I do, he’s extremely passive and shuns conflict. My mother hated him for it, as he would be the type to maintain the status quo even if it meant that he were to suffer on the inside. It wouldn’t make sense for him to actively seek to overthrow Lucifer.” Narvi hadn’t left much room for a conversation to flow, but after opening up conversation, going back to an awkward silence for who knew how much longer seemed a terrible fate for the foursome to endure, so he decided to get something off his mind that was bugging him more and more as the days went on. Turning to Persephone, Pikkon (in a slightly more accusing tone than he’d intended), announced, “You told me you were a human.” The red-haired woman just nodded, It was a slight detail that slipped by most people. For all intents and purposes, she was a Damaskian and yet her physiology declared her to be an Earthling. “Caught me. Truth is, I was not exactly born into the Shadowguard life. I was, uh, indoctrinated into it. Born on Earth, but raised as Damaskian - it’s all I know,” she said in a somewhat somber tone. “While in the Shadowguard I was chosen to receive some.. experimental modifications. I don’t know if any of you are aware of how the inner workings of the Shadowguard are, but everything is secretive. Even I am fully unaware of the full extent of those experiments,” she trotted along, looking at the thin trail that lay ahead of them while she spoke. “Don’t be alarmed, however,” it was a poor attempt at easing any radical thoughts that may have sprung up. The demon gave no indication that he would offer any input into Pikkon’s and Persephone’s conversation. So far it seemed that everyone had been pretty open about their pasts, all except for Pikkon it seemed. He was quick to throw in his two cents when it came to Narvi’s situation, and he called out Persephone on her physical appearance as she did not appear Damaskian at all. The raven haired demon leered at the green-skinned alien and said, ”Since you’re not a Namekian, where are you from exactly? We have all shared where we originated from, save you. Do you have something to hide?” He gave Pikkon the same tone that he had given Persephone when he said that she didn’t appear human. It was only fair that the green-skinned alien would share a bit more about himself since the cat was out of the bag on everyone else but him. Word Count: 1,012[split 3 ways] Pikkon Count: 714 Narvi Count: 714 Bebi Count: 1,519 Total Count: 2,947 |
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| OldNewPikkon | Jun 25 2015, 11:25 PM Post #6 |
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Pikkon closed his eyes, coming to a brief stop. Some people just don’t get it. Without turning to face the demon, he started walking again. “Let’s get this clear,” Pikkon began, voice thinly coated in malice. “We’re not old chums telling ghost stories over a cozy fire. I already told you I don’t feel like sharing.” Working his sudden case of cottonmouth by rubbing his tongue around the roof of his mouth, he finished by adding, “You wouldn’t have heard of it, anyway. All you need to know is I don’t kill people. Ever.” A ghost of a smile became etched on Narvi’s lips. ”Yes, we’ll get along just fine then.” He commented on Pikkon’s statement. He said it with such conviction that the demon was fully convinced that the green-skinned mortal would have kept to his word. If he did, then he and Narvi wouldn’t have any problems with one another. The Elder had trotted along while the trio of Narvi, Pikkon, and Persephone had conversed with one another. He feigned ignorance and obliviousness when it came to their conversation, but all the while he began to get a better feel of the ones he had traveled with, and he had to say he liked the diversity of the group. On one hand there was a particularly sensitive alien of “mysterious” origins. The Elder suspected that whatever Pikkon was, he wasn’t of their galaxy. Or, perhaps he wasn’t even part of the current timeline. But none of that mattered to him, the past was the past. The future was all that mattered. On the other hand there was Persephone, an Earthling who had been experimented on by Damaskian scientists and made part of the Shadowguard. She had been through much it seemed, but the Galaxy was a very dangerous place, and there had been greater tragedies. Still, she seemed better for it. But he then eyed her bloodied fists. Okay, maybe not. But she would be a work in progress. Lastly there was Narvi, a demon that was just as afraid of mortals as mortals were of him. When one thought of a demon, they would think about a grotesque monster with no regard to human life, or any life. A creature that was devoid of compassion, humility, or shame. Yet what he saw before him was a shy, quiet humanoid figure that desperately wanted to have his family reunited once more. Though it was strange that he never mentioned his mother. “You guys have some interesting backgrounds,” The Yaidratian commented whimsically. “However, the past is the past. We do not want to be carrying around extra luggage. I hope that you would have left it all behind on the ship, for it will only weigh you down.” Those were his words of wisdom for the day. He attempted to quicken his pace, but sighed when he was unable to. Now he was tired again. Word Count: 486[split 3 ways] Pikkon Count: 1,200 Narvi Count: 1,200 Bebi Count: 2,005 Total Count: 3,433 |
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| OldNewPikkon | Jun 26 2015, 01:08 AM Post #7 |
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Looking up, he saw that the town was much closer than he’d thought it was, and turned back to the trio with a weak smile. “We’re almost there now, gang. I can already feel my body thanking me as I kick my feet up tonight with a nice cup of tea.” By the time the sun turned a deep orange and was beginning to hide behind the city skyline, they’d made their way into the town, and a good few families were already poking their heads out, having been alerted to the travelers by their sons and daughters. Motioning for everyone to stay back and let him do the talking, Elder approached a more-than-delightfully plump mother herding her children behind her and put on his most sage, old man voice. “Hello, miss. Is there an inn somewhere that we can rest our feet for the night? We’re trying to hike to West City--” pausing for a bit, Elder chuckled softly, mumbling, “What a terrible idea that turned out to be!” After the woman smiled hesitantly, he added, “We’re willing to pay our way, if there’s any room, and if not, if you could direct us to a family with room to spare that might accept our Zeni?” “Oh, no, just over by the bell tower is the Western Townhouse Inn, no need to worry! The whole town’s named after it, you know,” she added conspiratorially, leaning into the old man’s face and smiling politely, “So people like you help keep this little town afloat. They’ve also got great food and a nice working TV courtesy of the Capsule Corp. Anyway, I need to be gettin’ on in and serving these kids dinner.” Ruffling the hair of one of the girls who had ventured back near the Yaidratian, she murmured, “Go on, Julie, back inside, and take your brothers in, too! I’m Barbara, by the way, sir, and if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to come ask me.” Elder shook her hand heartily and said, “I’d tell you my name, but I’m so old, I’ve gone and forgotten it. Everyone just calls me Elder, now. Anyway, I’ll stop taking your time,” he finished, backing away. “We can take it from here.” Waving at the group, Elder led the way to the Inn, a brick building a shade taller than the others around it, with its chimney puffing out smoke and all the lights on. Walking inside, he noted how homely it looked. It wasn’t like a regular inn, with a big open space for eating or for paying bills, and some massive upstairs with dozens of rooms. They walked right into a living room, where a single man was watching TV. Getting up, he bellowed, perhaps a little tipsy, “Hey there, travelers! Come to stay at the inn, have you?” Walking over, he grabbed the Elder’s hand, shaking it firmly, and grabbing everybody else’s hand with just as much vigor, and leading them all to the couches where he went back to sit, “We can work out payment after dinner. My wife, Carol, is just starting the roast, so it should be ready in a couple of hours. Take a seat, though, relax, watch some television, drink some beer!” Flipping through the channels, he settled on the GNN. Glancing at Elder, he asked, “How did you find us, by the way?” “Oh, Barbara helped us find the way,” Elder replied, somewhat taken aback by the lenient nature of the owner of the inn. “I’ll have to thank her in the morning, sweet woman. Great kids, too.” Falling silent, he turned up the volume on the news, as the flashing screen had indicated the anchor was about to come back. “And we’re back! As always, I’m your host, Mike Soy, for Breaking News @ 9, with the GNN.” The anchor, in a dark blue blazer and his hair slicked over to the right, glanced down at the pile of papers in front of him. “Most important on tonight’s news is what everyone can’t get off their mind, of course - the kamikaze attack on the Earth Defense Force Spaceport on the Earth’s moon.” “According to an official statement given by none other than Madame Meustardt, the Senior Administrator, the escapees had been detained under suspicion of being Damaskian spies attempting to sneak on Earth for unknown reasons. Somehow, several of the guards ended up dead in their ensuing attempt for freedom, but due to what is assumed to be some kind of internal power struggle amongst the three, they ended up crashing the ship they’d stolen into another ship, killing themselves and tragically taking the life of another brave soldier who’d attempted to stop their entry into Earth’s atmosphere.” Here, Soy took the time to look directly into the camera, pausing for dramatic effect. In the background, images of the destroyed ships were shown in vivid HD, and the explosions only seemed to highlight the tragedy that had rocked Earth, merely months after finally getting rid of the Steel Legion threat. “His name has been classified for the purposes of his family’s privacy, but our hearts go out to you and your loved ones.” “You are a hero, sir.” There followed once again a pregnant pause. The anchor’s mouth twisted, as though he was about to say something else, before placing his hand on his tie, straightening it out uncomfortably and breaking eye contact, glancing at the desk. “We’ll be back in a few minutes for more news, but - as always - we’ll keep you updated if any more developments about this tragic event are uncovered. Once again, I’m Mike Soy.” Placing his hand on his forehead and sighing deeply, the camera angle faded out and changed to a brief commercial about some new product that had been invented to aid in the cooking process of corn. “Well, I’ll be damned,” the innkeeper finally said. Word Count: 981 Pikkon Count: 2,181 Total Count: 4,414 |
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| OlUub | Jun 26 2015, 09:13 PM Post #8 |
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The trip to Earth from Kelioux hadn't been particularly pleasant for Yuu. In order to get to Earth, he'd been forced to take a Shuttlecraft from the Keliouxian star system all the way to Sol, and then he'd been transferred over to a different, somehow even more brittle feeling shuttle on his way through the Kuiper belt. Space travel left him feeling uneasy, and as he stepped into the inn, he couldn't help but shake the feeling like he hadn't seen the last of it. He clutched his bag tight and stepped inside of the Western Townhouse Inn, his face still gripped by a purple unease. The inn itself had no main lobby; instead, there was an open looking space that served as an entryway. Mailboxes dotted the walls, probably for the occupants of the rooms upstairs, and a single, lonely looking table at the center. Yuu couldn't really tell whether it was a dining hall or a place to get your mail and issue your payments, but he wasn't sure that he'd be there long enough to find out. He was on his way to West City -- he'd, unfortunately, been deposited way too far off to just make the full trip from East City in a single day. Yuu adjusted the strap of the bag so that it fit comfortably against his shoulder and continued inside, only coming to a stop when he stumbled upon a cozy looking room with a few people inside. A lone, cowboy-looking man stood and chatted amicably with a few customer that Yuu didn't recognize. Instead of interrupting the conversation, he took a seat on the couch and placed his bag on the carpet. “And we’re back! As always, I’m your host, Mike Soy, for Breaking News @ 9, with the GNN.” The redhead watched the screen with a mixture of boredom and lackadaisical interest, caught between having never really watched the News before and not really wanting to start. “Most important on tonight’s news is what everyone can’t get off their mind, of course - the kamikaze attack on the Earth Defense Force Spaceport on the Earth’s moon.” He crossed his arms over his chest while the news caster went on to describe a terrorist attack on some spaceport — Yuu wasn't honestly paying all that much attention — on the Earth's moon. Yuu's fingertips ran up and down along the sides of his forearms, rubbing the skin and trying to keep himself warm while Mike Soy went on to describe the event in terrifying detail. He'd been involved in his fair share of horrible events recently, with the Keliouxian Inquisition and the terrorist bombings on the Great Temple, and hearing about the lunar bombings made him remember things he preferred to forget. “We’ll be back in a few minutes for more news, but - as always - we’ll keep you updated if any more developments about this tragic event are uncovered. Once again, I’m Mike Soy," said the newscaster, before signing off the air. A flash of light and color rode across the screen, carrying away the shot of the man's torso, and segued nicely into a commercial about foot cream. Yuu stood up, slowly, and continued rubbing at the sides of his arms. "Well, I'll be damned," Yuu heard the innkeeper say. "It's terrible," he replied, finally drawing some attention to himself. "I wonder how that man's family feels." His tone was somber and quieter than usual. In most cases, he was the uppity-youth, shouting and screaming with joy and blissful ignorance. Over the last few days, however, he'd undergone a drastic change. Bombing a church where the weary went to find solace in miracles... it'd changed him. He didn't know anyone was going to be hurt, but that didn't unhurt anyone either. "Do you think that they were really spies?" Yuu turned to face the group of strangers, exposing himself completely. He was not a particularly impressive sight, but he didn't really think about it. A pair of checkered board shorts and a white t-shirt were enough for him, even if he did look like that kid from Pokemon with the Rattata. [align=center]724 / 5,138[/align] |
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| Rhaemon Targos | Jun 26 2015, 11:05 PM Post #9 |
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Man Of Honor
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The images that the GNN showed resonated within the raven haired demon. They were vivid, detailed pictures of the devastating collision that rendered the Earth Defense Force security guard deceased. Narvi couldn’t help but have that sinking feeling in the pit of his gut. A mortal had been killed, and he had been partially responsible. Well, he felt partially responsible. Could things had been handled differently? Maybe, but he would never know for sure. What was done was done, and so he had to move on, the amount of pain and remorse he felt was nothing compared to what the poor security guard’s family felt. They lost a brother, a son, a cousin, an inspiration - a hero. He was a martyr in the eyes of the public, and perhaps it was best that way. Perhaps the mortal would achieve immortality through death, through the hearts of many, did that not count for something? Life as most mortals knew was short and fickle, there was no rhyme or reason to it. One day you could see a beloved family member, even hold them in your arms, and the next they could be taken away just as quick. Then you reminiscence on all the time that had been lost between you, and grief and regret sinks in. There would be some anger as well, and with anger would come hatred, and hatred would only beget more hatred. “It’s terrible,” The demon heard a voice throw in his two cents. “I wonder how that man’s family feels.” Narvi’s gaze shifted to the rather unremarkable boy. The youth appeared to had been down, depressed even. The demon didn’t very much like the look in his eyes. He seemed…..shattered. “Do you think that they were really spies?” The boy asked of the group. Well, of most of the group. Pikkon had sauntered off on a couch opposite of the room to get some shut eye. ”Who knows,” Narvi started. He would have ended his statement right then and there, but he could sense that the boy wanted answers. Why was the Universe so unfair? Maybe he could comfort him somewhat. ”But thankfully, that brave man stopped them. He sacrificed his life so that others could live, in the end that’s all that matters right?” Word Count: 380 Narvi Word Count: 1,580 Total Word Count: 5,518 |
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4:27 AM Jul 11