Author Topic: Halloween Town  (Read 19926 times)

SINIB

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Re: Halloween Town
« Reply #315 on: February 27, 2021, 03:48:59 PM »
Zeke

Unbearably acidic, with the acrid smell of sulfur and burnt filth. Horrible as it was, it didn't even compare to the feeling of one's insides cooking while being vomited out of their body. Hellish, a sensation one couldn't even scream out. If there was anything left to spew, it probably sludged out of Zeke's throat like fire - past the tip of the spear and into the skies, burning a hole within the clouds.

Yet the fist barely moved the vessel at all.

Barely conscious, no, conscious because of this unbearable pain, Zeke refused to relent. Turning one's head against her punch, hollow eyes glared hungrily. As if to say they liked the name. What did Zeke see, beyond the hell he made? And what did that hell see as it gazed back?



A Prayer of Piety

Spoiler for Hiden:
Beware the Jabberwock, my son. The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun, the frumious Bandersnatch!
He took his vorpal sword in hand; Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree, and stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, came whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through, the vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head, he went galumphing back.

The mysterious monster called the Jabberwock. It is a nameless man who defeats that monster. Why did that nameless man feel compelled to slay the Jabberwock? To begin with, it was a poem written by Lewis Carrol in nonsense verse. The greatest nonsense poem is told as a parody of an epic.

A mysterious monster.

A nameless hero.

Many words that never existed before.

A parody of an epic.

It's just like that void's own existence.

Regardless of its wishes, the Jabberwock is crafted to be a terrible creature. Despite the odds, the hero is crafted to slay the Jabberwock. It's an unavoidable destiny prescribed by the author. One might even call it fate. But it's even simpler than that.

The two simply follow their nature. The ink just fills in the gaps.

And yet, even when free from its shackles, beyond towers and horrors and wonders of old worlds past, the jabberwock curses its fabricated existance. Because no choice made was truly its own. It is merely following the script. Even its attempts to rebel are nothing more than part of a story.

Even if it finds something beyond that story, that in itself is the story.

Thus, the void consumes. Because it was created to do so. Because it cannot even fathom living any other way. Whatever pretense of a choice it declares is no more tangible than nonsense words put over a sheet of paper. The Jabberowck destroys, and is destroyed by the hero in turn.

And yet, even if it is nothing more than nonsense stories, the beast dares to dream. It lulls sleeping minds into its maw and coalesces it towards that same dream. Like stars in the sky. One day, perhaps it will find an answer for its existence.

But that day will never come.



The fifth horn was the emptiest, a jagged crystal that slipped out of Zeke's spine. Yet even that nameless void was beautiful in its own way.

But it all came down to Zeke and Ivanna. Their embrace was just too twisted. Take a blow to deal another, scream at the heavens, pay every shred of pain with brutality. The outcome was a struggle that couldn't be called elegant or refined in any manner. A barbaric display of violence and raw will, maddeningly unlike either of them.

"Make me."

It was a pity that they couldn't calmly exchange techniques, but this was fine too.

And fittingly, a fist came to return Ivanna's favour tenfold, crashing against her eye socket so fiercely it cracked it like porcelain. Both were hurled by the impact to opposing ends of the arena, to lick their wounds and suffer the price of foolishness.

Ivanna

Divine ichor flowed freely from Ivanna's wound, rushing down her face and painting her white-dress red with gore. She panted, flapping her wings laboriously. She didn't have the energy to respond to his taunting. Instead, she focused everything she had left on her final wrath.

[5:20:13 PM] francobull III: "I fuck dead animals"

francobull3 - Today at 10:15 PM: when will skeleton bullying day end

Kotomine_Rin

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Re: Halloween Town
« Reply #316 on: February 28, 2021, 08:27:28 PM »
Zeke

Pain. Fury. Unease. Despair. His bones, his everything, it all screamed and roared against him as he crashed in the depths of the arena. To live, to fight, it was all a struggle. The victor would be decided not by the strength of their ideals, but the strength to uphold them.

Convulsing, vomiting molten mud, it was clear. He couldn't yet vanquish something of this caliber.

But his burning body didn't stop moving. Even losing the boon of immortality, he pumped it full of organisms that forcefully stimulated his nerves, sealed the hemmorage in his organs, and forcibly pumped oxygenated fluids into his system.  His bones broiled and swelled until he became a giant. An abyssal being that laughed at Ivanna. Laughed at death. "I'll be feeling this for a bit."

Thus, Zeke rises.

His body, his soul, his everything burnt and swelled with newfound vigor as he slapped his chest. Glaring back with a bloodied face, he grinned like a maddened warrior. "So, where were we?"

An incandescent burst of blue drowned all. He held no grudge against Ivanna, but this ended here and now.

Hibiki

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Re: Halloween Town
« Reply #317 on: March 03, 2021, 12:37:40 AM »
Nika

"Eighties. That's a decade after I went to take a nap, and things must have already changed by then a lot. And myself, I don't discriminate between what kind of stuff they put into drinks as long as they're something with taste and give a strong kick. It's so hard to get drunk for me that I appreciate strong flavor, I can at least imagine I'm drinking something that's give my old self more than a buzz."

On one hand there was an option of drinking the red wine from people who already had their fill of alcohol, but she had her class. Even if it was a bit of make believe, just good alcohol and right company made up for holding her liquor too well.  She suspected they'd have drinks themed after the kind of the establishment it was, and she wasn't entirely wrong. Whoever compiled this list of available drinks, which was idly lying on the table top of the bar while the bartender presumably attended some business in one of the backrooms, must have been quite afficionado of mixology.

She already made up her mind about the choice of drink, but kept it for herself until the barkeep would come. Probably soon, she did hear footsteps already, of course. She handed over the menu to Forest to see what she would pick herself out of the 'fruity things.'

Kotomine_Rin

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Re: Halloween Town
« Reply #318 on: March 17, 2021, 11:51:16 PM »
In the Evacuated Plaza - in the meanwhile

"Mommy... sniff... I'm so scared..." Groups of refugees were huddled together in a makeshift camp, hidden by monstrous magic to protect them from the attackers outside. Some had different shapes, different otherwordly forms, but they reunited and tried to comfort one another. Others trembled alone, looking outside this dark catbox anxiously.

The women and children were brought to a different camp. They were important to ensure the future of the next generation, so they couldn't come to harm. However, this only caused more unease. While the seraph and the new de facto ruler fought, their future was anything but certain.

The only thing they knew right now was their fear.

"I hope it's over soon. Today was too exhausting." A sickly woman with dark organisms as amputated appendages smiled sadly. This was a sentiment they all shared, surely. Columbia, that dark being, and now Little Russia. It didn't even matter who took the mantle, they were always the ones suffering because of it. The replaceable ones. To be killed for just existing, or exploited for just existing. They never had a damn choice.

And yet, some of them hoped. Others prayed. A woman embraced her friend for the first time in a while, after all these senseless conflicts. Maybe these new bodies weren't so bad.

"Do you think after all this, we can finally be free?"

"Yeah."

Two hands connected, and smiles glanced at each other. No matter what form, or no matter how long... they were hoping that a miracle would let them endure.  Free them and bring them to a promised land, without war. With milk and honey flowing in abundance, where they could bear children and live without fear or suffering.

But what was freedom?

Could that even be attained?

The cold truth they all knew is that in this world, even if you scratched and upturned every atom, every speck of matter... you wouldn't find a single bit of this so-called freedom. Old world organism, monster, no it wouldn't change anything. But at least, touching their hands, comforting each other. Maybe this was what the world should have been like.

Even for this smallest moment, they were happy.

-crash-

Something, or perhaps someone, descended from the skies. Mud started to sprout from the clouds and drip like rain, but they paid it no mind. How could they?

Pale hands and bloody claws tear against fragile necks. Too fast for them to realize it, those who don't even have the time to panic or scream. Those who did realized what happened, but could do nothing to stop it. The hands that connected dropped to the ground in a pool of mud.

They were free.



An ancient being from another world

"Hah! I guess no matter the era or world, the sun's still a bitch. Too bad, you may taste like shit, but after centuries in the can, I can't complain." A pale hunter grimaced and spat on the ground, realizing just where he landed. It had lacked true sustenance for too long, even the blood of women and babes was fine. Unsatisfied, his grimace turned into a sardonic grin, even as he stared at the horizon.

"How long has it been? Keheheh..." He stomped on a piece of crawling mud, mocking it along with all its murdered comrades. Right, that was one of the old world organisms he just slaughtered. "Ah, being corporeal is much nicer. You filthy old world shits are wasting your time trying to grab at these bodies. I don't give a damn if you tower dwellers try to go for the dregs, but why the fuck would you assume every ancient up there would just let you hog all the fun? Worms who only exist by absorbing weaklings belong in the dirt." The apostle squeezed the last lifeform in the plaza and chuckled, draining its life like all the rest.

It was too late.

It had already been far too late.

Thus, he left. Leaving nothing more than torn carcasses behind, and the hands of two friends held connected under the fading sun. Like a prisoner who had just seen light after 10 000 years, and was absolutely going to be an upstanding paroled convict.

"Thanks for the meal, ladies."
« Last Edit: March 18, 2021, 12:40:58 AM by Kotomine_Rin »