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| A Demon's Reality Part I; Personal Roleplay [Complete] | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 3 2015, 05:25 PM (160 Views) | |
| Rhaemon Targos | Jul 3 2015, 05:25 PM Post #1 |
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Man Of Honor
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Outside, the innkeeper answered Narvi’s question after having paused to gather his bearings. The Western Townhouse Inn housed dead bodies...what a disaster for business this would be. “No, we’re a very small village. Everyone here practically knows each other, we’re like one big family. We’re very kind to visitors as well, but I fear an event like this could change that,” He spoke solemnly. The tranquil peace that the village had known for so long would be crushed to bits at the news of an innocent girl’s death. The innkeeper imagined visitors and weary travelers being blacklisted, turned around, or perhaps even…. ”No one has to know about this,” The demon interrupted the innkeeper’s thoughts. The innkeeper gave Narvi a curious glare. “And so how are we going to do that? Bury her in my backyard?” As he said that, the demon began to make a makeshift grave with his bare hands, something that alarmed the innkeeper. “Hey, hey, hey! Shouldn’t I have a say in this!?” The innkeeper blurted. “Oh boy, what is all the commotion out here? Can an old man enjoy his tea in peace?” The Elder stepped out of the house to the curious glares of both Narvi and the innkeeper. “Did something happen?” The Elder asked. “How did you not notice the dead girl in the middle of my lobby?” The innkeeper asked in astonishment. The Elder looked as if he paid the man no mind. “I was enjoying my tea and began to grow tired. Tea does that to an old man. But that is neither here nor there,” He continued. “I elect that we bury the body and be done with it, no use causing a fuss, right?” Narvi nodded, but the innkeeper still wasn’t pleased. “What about this girl’s family? Don’t they have the right to know what happened to her?” The innkeeper countered. “Oh yes, they have every right to know,” The Elder paused to take a sip of his tea. “But that doesn’t mean that they should know. I’d hate to think what would become of this lovely Inn if this little fiasco became known to the public.” The innkeeper gave a sigh of defeat. “Okay, fine, but for Ganr’s sake use a shovel instead of your bare hands. I don’t want you leaving dirt and grime in my sink.” The innkeeper made his way back inside, possibly to clean up the trail of blood. Once he had closed the door, The Elder reached his hand out that wasn’t holding the tea cup and materialized a shovel for Narvi to use. When the demon went to grab it, the Elder pulled his hand back so that it was out of reach. “For someone who hates death, you seem remarkably calm about this whole thing,” The Elder quipped. ”Death is as natural as life, why cry about it?” “What happens to demons once they die?” Narvi’s gaze remained even. ”Nothing.” The Elder furrowed a brow. “Explain.” Narvi took the shovel from the Elder’s grasp and turned to dig a hole for the poor deceased girl. ”Maybe another time, right now we have to find out the cause of all this.” The Elder took another sip of his tea. “You speak as if you don’t know.” ”I don’t,” Narvi said as he continued to dig a deeper hole. The girl’s body wasn’t big or anything, but if he didn’t dig the hole deep enough then the stench of her decayed flesh would marinate the walls of the Inn and raise questions that the innkeeper wouldn’t be able to answer. “You do, you just don’t want to admit that you know,” The Elder pointed out. ”My kind can be quite ruthless, and bloodthirsty. I would not wish for us to encounter a true demon,” Narvi said. “You speak as if you aren’t one yourself. A true demon, that is.” Narvi paused to wipe the sweat from his brow. Digging was hard work. ”Contrary to popular belief, demons don’t ask to be born as one. We are what we are, and it is something we must deal with.” The Elder watched as Narvi finally finished digging the ditch for the Earthling girl. He took another sip of his tea and frowned at his cup when he realized that he had finished it off already. He usually made it a point to enjoy the taste and aroma of some good tea. “You don’t seem to be dealing with it very well,” The Elder said as he inspected his tea cup, hoping to find at least a drop more left inside. Narvi lifted the girl and carried her over to the ditch, which he carefully placed her in. ”I didn’t ask to be a demon.” “But you are one. And have been one for a very long time I imagine, yet you still haven’t been able to come to grips with it?” ”I have always felt like an outcast, along with my family. We didn’t crave what our brethren craved. We were…different.” The Elder gave a nod of understanding. “I see, well, if it’s any consolation, if I hadn’t known any better, I’d say that you were a Namekian.” Narvi smirked. He’d take that as a compliment. Word Count: 907 |
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| Rhaemon Targos | Aug 1 2015, 05:51 PM Post #2 |
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Man Of Honor
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[align=center]Hell[/align] Loki, the father of Narvi and Lavi, was in his prison cell dreaming. He dreamt of a time before he had children, before there was ever a Lucifer. When he was nothing more than a spawnling who trotted about in Hell, in his home. He remembered his sister, his dear sister. How she loved him so, perhaps more so than a sister should love a brother. But Loki didn't know any better, she was older than he was, and wiser. When she would visit his bedchamber he would grow excited in all the wrong ways. She taught him things, like how to read and write. She never left his side, and he never left hers. Why did his sister love him so? He never asked, he just accepted it. Maybe he should have asked. He imagined himself looking up at her with an innocent smile as she sat next to him on his bed. Her purples eyes would shimmer back at him, filled with so much love, so much joy. It was funny, his sister was around the age where she would be betrothed to another demon. Perhaps a warrior of some sorts, or some nobleman who had pull with the Demon King. But she would deny each and every engagement. He remembered his father would ask her why, and she would smile and say that she didn't want to be sent off to live with some 'smelly old horned man.' She said that she wanted to stay with her family, and to look after her dear younger brother. Loki didn't know what that meant, and at the time he left it at that. But if he could ask her, he imagined the scenario would go something like; "Sister, why do you love me so? Do all sisters love their brothers like this?" He imagined her placing her hand atop of his head and ruffling his hair around until it was uneven and unkempt. He hated it when she did that because their mother always became furious when she saw that either of them weren't keeping themselves well groomed. She took a lot of pride in appearance. "I love you more than you could possibly imagine," She would say. "And any sister who don't share the same love with their brother that I share with you is a fool." Loki could feel himself smile. Yes, it would go something like that. But as he grew older along with her, he realized that what they were doing, what they had been doing, wasn't quite the norm. Still, he didn't care. His sister's love was all he knew, it was all he wanted. Then she came to him one day, after both of their parents were deceased, and whilst their bodies were still warm, "Let's get married." Marrying his sister? Why not he thought. Why shouldn't he? Marriage were for those you loved, and he loved his sister more than anyone, more than anything. He would gladly spend the rest of his life with her, to have a union with her. More time passed, and his sister told him that she would have spawnlings soon. Plural. That meant that she was going to have two at once, a rare occasion. When they came it was the happiest moment of his life. The first one to be born he named Lavi, the second to pop out was named Narvi. They had his hair, yet they had their mother's eyes. Loki remembered how every day since then played out like a dream come true. It would be him and his sister-wife, as well as their spawnlings. Many cycles passed, and a new arrival had come to Hell. His name was Lucifer, a former Kai. He spoke about bringing about change not only in the Demon Realm, but as well as the Mortal Realm. But for a demon to disrupt the balance in the Mortal Realm was practically unheard of at the time. Demons belonged in the Demon Realm with their own kind, that's just the way things worked. But somehow Lucifer was able to amass a following, an entire legion of demons that were solely dedicated to him. The Demon King of old was ousted, and Lucifer's reign began. He brought about many changes, and gave the demons structure when they had none. Yet there was one change that he made that Loki was not fond of. Lucifer saw how some demons would wed their sisters and have her bear their spawnlings. He took issue with this. In the Mortal Realm, when two sibling mortals bore a child together, the child would have...complications. If the child could survive birth without any grotesque physical defects, then the child would grow up to become needlessly cruel and terribly violent. For demons, the reverse was true. The spawn of a brother and his sister-wife would be unusually calm, serene, and benevolent. The old Demon King cared not for such things, but the new king, Lucifer, did. He wanted all of his minions to be evil, to conform. He wanted to instill in them a need to subjugate mortals and bring about order to the Mortal Realm. Lucifer was obsessed with this, far too obsessed. He forced Loki's sister to wed another, a demon in his standing army, and Loki had to raise his spawn on his own. They would grow up not knowing anything about their mother aside from stories and perhaps the occasional visit in secret. The younger one, Narvi, would often ask why his mother seemed so cold. Loki would not be able to give an adequate answer, and over time, he could see the resentment both of his sons had for their mother and it tore him apart. Loki had finally reached the breaking point, and thus, he began to devise a scheme. A plot to overthrow Lucifer so that he could be with his beloved sister once more. Endless cycles passed, and his sons were grown. But they never knew of the plan that their father had devised. Then it all came crashing down. Members of the Abaddon raided his chambers and had him arrested. They found all the documents, all the papers, all the layouts, everything. He was tried and convicted of high treason, and would await execution. His sons however, were to be killed as well, but Loki pleaded to both Lucifer as well as Adramelech to keep them both alive. He knew the real reason why he wanted them dead, he didn't want his spawns to grow up to one day oppose him. Wherever his sons were, he hoped that they could find some peace in the Mortal Realm. It would be a long shot considering how mortals didn't look upon demons kindly ever since Lucifer's reign began, but he believed that if anyone could put an end to it, it would be them. In them he entrusted all of his hopes, all of his dreams. His dream ended, and audible footsteps could be heard approach him. Loki hadn't expected for anyone to visit him, but it's not like he had the luxury of accepting or declining any. Through the inky blackness that plagued his sight, a figure finally came into view. His ominous footsteps ceased, and Loki could finally see him. Demigra's devilish smile greeted him. It was rare for the sorcerer to be without his staff, or a smile. Those were two things that he would never part with. "What brings you here, Demigra?" Loki asked of him. He knew that it wouldn't be anything positive, and he knew that Demigra didn't have to answer to him, but he still wanted to ask. "Ah yes, what indeed?" Demigra cackled in response. It wasn't unusual for Demigra to speak in such a manner, to speak in riddles. He would laugh every time he did so, as his jokes were funny only to him. A moment of silence pervaded over them until Demigra broke it by continuing to speak. "Have you by chance heard of how your little spawnlings have been doing?" Demigra asked him with his smile as wide as ever. Loki suspected that he had come to torture him psychologically, for him to tell him that both his sons have somehow perished at the hands of mortals, or lesser demons. A lump in his throat deterred him from asking, from attempting to seek the truth of the matter. He would rather die not knowing that his sons were gone then live with the knowledge. But perhaps either way it would not matter, because he would be dead all the same. "Oh don't worry, they're quite alive," Demigra assured him. He could see the relief wash over Loki, yet it only made his smile grow wider. Something devious was at work, and it made the sensation of relief a very short lived one. "You see, thinks have been quiet lately, well, aside from what Lucifer deems to be a bit of a, disturbance in the mortal realm, one that does not concern you," Demigra said. "However, The Evil One wishes for me to, recruit rogue demons in our time of need. And guess whose names came up first?" The lump in Loki's throat returned. He wanted to shout "No!" But he couldn't talk. His voice, his throat, it was all too heavy. The thought of his sons being nothing more than mindless drones for Lucifer's bidding tortured him more than his imprisonment ever could. He wished his sons nothing more than freedom, peace, and happiness. Those are things that they would not be able to find if they followed The Evil One. Loki's gaze moved from the malicious grin that was plastered upon Demigra's visage to his staff which he held with a firm grip. He looked upon the red marble orb and envisioned his sons doing the same. He imagined them bowing once they had gazed upon it for long enough, bowing and swearing fealty to Lucifer's Empire. "Ah, I can see the confliction on your face. You don't wish for me to use my precious staff, is that it?" Demigra used the digits on his off hand to finger the red orb, the ruby sphere that the broken demon before him did not wish to use to force his sons to submit to his every whim. "Do not worry, even though Lucifer wished for me to do so, I have chosen not to," Demigra's fingers dropped back down toward his side. "What good is loyalty if it doesn't come from one's own heart?" "My sons would never submit to your whims, or to the whims of your master!" Loki fired back. What Demigra had suggested was an insult, not only to his sons, but to him as well. They were his spawn, his sons, they had his defiant nature in them. And not only that, but why would they swear fealty to an Emperor who had imprisoned their father? Though, they didn't know the truth, but that was fine with him. He didn't want his sons to think any less of him if they didn't already. He would take his true intentions with him to the darkest abyss if it meant that it would keep his sons far away from Lucifer's crutches. "Oh, believe me, I know, that's why I said it would be no fun if I would just simply force them to submit," Demigra chided with a condescending tone. "But that's where you come in, my dear Loki." The lump in his throat returned again. Just what sort of devious plot was the demonic sorcerer planning on enacting on his two sons? And why would it involve him? He was imprisoned, locked away in the deepest and darkest chamber of Hell, where he awaited to die. How could he aid him in doing anything? "I shall release you by opening up a portal to the Mortal Realm, once you take it you shall be on Planet Earth with your youngest son Narvi, you will reunite with him there," Demigra said. Loki asked the obvious follow up question. "But what of my other son, Lavi?" To which Demigra quickly replied with, "Your presence will merely distract him. He's quite the busy body you see, with joining the Shadowguard and all, but that's neither here nor there," The demonic sorcerer supreme continued on. "You will go to him now, and if you refuse, then you shall die, along with your two spawnlings. Though I have faith that you shall make the proper choice." Loki nodded, to which Demigra's smile grew so wide that it almost made his eyes disappear beneath his lids. "Excellent. Excellent." The demonic sorcerer's staff began to glow an ominous tinge of purple. Power surged forth from the bottom of the staff towards the ruby sphere which siphoned such power. A purple beam shot forth from the orb of the staff toward the inside wall of Loki's cell. In another moment, the beam expanded until an inter-dimensional rift had expanded to full size. "Hurry now, this portal shall not last forever." Demigra warned with a cackle. Loki did not have to be told twice, he quickly ran toward the portal without so much as another moment's hesitation. However, he made the grave mistake of looking back, and when he did, he saw Demigra sport a sinister grin so hellish that his pearly white teeth had become visible. Word Counter: 2,242 Total Word Count: 3,149 |
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