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Alright, it's a fan-fic. Thought I'd make it. I make it up as I go.

The Village of the Boyagers

Once upon a time, there was Nsider. Long, long ago people would get together and talk. Not about nothin' important, they'd just talk. There were feuds, there were fights, and there were friends. Those days are gone. Nobody knows where it went, it just upped and left.  Those who didn't perish in the split often fellin the quarrels from neighboring tribes. Factions arose and there was strife so brutal, so foreign to these young it left few untouched by its malevolance. But as long as there has been life, there has been hope. And no matter how oppressed hope always shines through...

Wrench lifted the axe high into the air, careful not to strain himself. His muscles screamed against him in protest with every stroke. He had been a simple boy, innocent of the horrors that were so certain to come. He could still hear their screams in his head. So many lost, so many gone so- He shook the thought away with a downward strike that sent a hairlike schism arching through the log. Beads of sweat ran off his chin as he leaned his head to rest. Summoning every resevoir of strength left in his exhausted being he swung down. Success! The wood split with such a fury it sent him to his back as pine and bark tore loose of each other and fell helpless onto the knee high grass. He smiled and lay his head down as he stared into the cloudless sky. The ringing in his ears overpowered every other sense in him but he had done it, he'd supplied fuel for his kin. Victory was his! Slowly he felt the dread begin to wash over him, there was no ringing in his ears. It was screaming.

Wrench cautiously wriggled through the grass, careful to make sure not to be seen. The screaming was getting louder, changing pitch with every voice added, then visciously removed. He couldn't quite make out what was happening but from what he could hear, there were several dozen ahead of him. As he began to make out the events past the knoll ahead his stomach began to turn. They were being slaughtered. From what he could tell there was no resistance from the receiving party. Pulling out a pair of miniature binoculars Wrench began to survey the area. Buggies, trucks, motorcycles and armor clad fighters poured into the village slaughtering all that stood in their way. It was then the dread moment of realization crept into his mind. He knew these people. They were like him, before the split. Nsiders. He saw KittykatKstar, Brahummr, Thatperson. At one time another he had viewed them as fellow humans. Now they were being butchered as animals. Men, women, children... None were deemed untouchable. Anyone who showed the slightest bit of resistance was killed. The few frightened villagers who remained were callously coralled into the barn by a few armed warfighters. The few fighters barred the main door and began to douse the barn in liquid. Wrench watched in horror, his mouth agape and face white as marble as the doors were barred shut, the barn set ablaze. Flames lapped the exterior of the barn, encroaching further and further up the buildings wall and into the loft. The Nsider's cries had gone from tear soaked sobs to terror ridden screams as the burning gasoline began to sear flesh and hair. Wrench felt numb, he didn't know what to feel. A wave of sorrow and grief seized him brisquely. They were dead! All of those memories, the lives lost. He'd never hear from them- A nauseous wave of emotion began to fill him until he could no longer handle it. Wracked with pain Wrench doubled over and emptied his stomach amidst the taste of salt stained tears. He let out a whisper, barely audible over a breath "The horror...The horror".

Comments?

Please let me be in this one. :(

Me too, i wanna be in it! Christ, that was a little too good

Darkness had begun to fall on Boyah. As the evening fell and dusk dulled the eyes the miniscule camp of Boyah prepared for an evening of slumber. Nobody had expected them to come, riders, marauders, killers. Well fed killers at that. The boyagers heard them, their engines roared like hell born beasts. Steal rushed to the gate to meet the oncoming menace with several of the gate sentries. To have fought them would be foolhardy, to surrender would be suicidal. Turning he noted Thief's sunken eyes staring back at him. Food was scarce as were resources. Scouts had been sent out to find more and most had returned by now with little more than scraps. Starvation had taken its toll on everyone. Sometimes he would wake up to find the cold had taken one more, and it was all he could do to stop from weeping.
"I take it this isn't a social call." Thief half murmured to himself
"Anyone tell you, you look dead?" Steal smirked
"Look who's talking." Thief returned the half hearted smile, or was it a grimace? Steal knew he was going to die eventually, they both did. The quips helped take the edge off of it.
As the buggies circled the encampment several times before grinding to a halt at the gate.
"State your business and get out!" Steal barked. Slowly, an unsettling figure rose from the passenger seat of the buggy. His voice was smooth as snake oil he bore a dark full bodied mustache that curled across his lips. His hat beckoned to an earlier era, flat and round with an even length about it. His attire was worn down but for these dark times, it was attire fit for a prince
"Ladies and gentlemen... I've traveled over half our state to be here tonight. I couldn't get away sooner because my new forum was coming in at Nsider2 and I had to see about it. That site is now flowing at over two thousand members and it's paying me an income of five thousand dollars a week. I have two others advertising and I have sixteen producing at Wichita. So, ladies and gentlemen... if I say I'm a forum man you will agree. You have a great chance here, but bear in mind, you can lose it all if you're not careful. Out of all men that beg for a chance to run your forums, maybe one in twenty will be forum men; the rest will be speculators-men trying to get between you and the forum man-to get some of the money that ought by rights come to you. Even if you find one that has money, and means to buy, he'll maybe known nothing about Nsider and he'll have to hire out the job on contract, and then you're depending on a contractor that's trying to rush the job through so he can get another contract just as quick as he can. This is the way this w-."
"Get to the point"
The man cleared his throat and continued
"What do you have now, boy? 600 members? I offer you nothing more than what you already have. Your lives. I hope I'm quite clear when I say refusal is not an option. You see, I own your forum and indeed your very existance. "
Steal stared in shock. How? Reaper ran Boyah.
"You're full of it! How is that possible?" Thief protested vehemently, Steal could see the veins popping out in his neck.
"It's quite simple I assure you." the man calmly retorted "I was sold the URL to Boyah, I own the name and therefore the forum."
"But this is our home." A quiet voice penetrated the conversation, it was Sam. Her starved figure clung to a rag of a cloak as she spoke. "Where will we go?"
"You may join my forums if you wish. We'll be most happy to let you join, provided you abide by my laws."
"I'd rather starve free than gorge as a slave!" a voice in the crowd booned. Quickly several others began to chant the saying. Over and over again they repeated the saying, they were proud. They were cold, hungery, tired and afraid but they were Boyagers! And no man on this earth could tear them from their home. Soon the deafening roar of the engines was eclipsed by their mantra. Resigned, Ejraven sat down and muttered through grinding teeth.
"Again you have forced me to unleash my dogs of war." Without warning a forklift crept towards the gate, through the darkness Steal could make out a form straddled to the forklift like a used doll. No. No it couldn't be!
"Wrench!" Sam cried, voicing Steal's fears. He had been sent out to gather firewood he hadn't even thought of where he'd been. The broken figure rolled its head loosely to the left. He was alive!
"Look he's moving!" Geno shouted. Steal felt himself tense, something terrible was about to happen here. He smelled something, it smelled like fuel.
"You think he's moving now do ya'?" one of Raven's cronies sneered. With a flick of the wrist the mercenary ignited a flare and tossed it beneath the wriggling shape. Wrench's body ignited into an inferno. His body writhing uncontrollably in agony as flesh began to slough off.
"NO!" Sam shrieked hystericaly. Hot scalding tears rolled down her face as she watched her friend spasm. Wrench was dead, he was sure now. Nothing more than a barely held together skeleton with meat and flesh patching it together. Without warning Wrench let out a howling cry, a death throw, as if both body and soul screamed in agonizing unison as his body was literally eaten away, before his head sank limply. Steal turned Sam away and held her close against the bitter cold.
"Don't let 'em see you cry, you hear me Sam? Don't let them see you cry. Let it turn."
EJRaven's face began to dim as his cold black eyes reflected the burning corpse of their former friend's body
"I will be expecting your answer by tommorrow."

I love it.

Damn ringo has talent! Poor wrench!

aw

wrench ;-;

oh wow, that was pretty nice.

too bad, sir  :(

Socks drew a puff of from his cigarrette from the shortened stub draped between his index and forefingers, holding in the breath for a few fleeting moments. The whole camp was pretty spooked over what had happened with Wrench. Socks had to admit to himself, Raven's ability to wage psychological warfare was par none. He'd heard about this sort of thing before,entire forums gone within a split-second, but he'd never thought it would happen to him. If they came, when they came, he'd be ready for them. Slowly exhaling he watched as the menthol flavored cloud rise towards the single flueroscent bulb bobbing back and forth in the cramped tent.
"Socks!" Selkie snapped "Put that thing out!" Socks crossed his arms, stiffening his neck back in defiance
"You gonna make me?" he smirked, extinguishing the burning out stub on his thigh. Selkie's throat dried as he watched him grind the butt out into his leg. Socks never broke eye contact, never flinched as the skin blistered like a wasp bite. The tent filled with an anxious silence save for the hiss of the dying cigarrete.
"Socks! Selk! Cut it out! I won't have my men killing each other. Not now." Bassir hoarsely barked as he looked over the terrain map. The valley they were in provided a relief from the harshened wind that ravaged the plains beyond the hills. Past rolling green pastures and fruitfull plains lay a barren desolate sandtrap that spread for miles. The badlands, as they had been dubbed, consisted of a few nomadic IF tribes who could be described as mostly peaceful, and occasionally barbaric. There was always the chance of being raided or attacked by one of the less benevolent forums. That was a chance they would have to take. He'd heard rumors in his earlier years of Nsider from exiles who had been sent into banishment of cannibalistic tribes consuming the flesh of wandering traders unfortunate enough to wander to far from the safety of the forums. He had known that most exiles had a tendency of expanding upon the truth for a fantastic story, but in his heart he felt a dark pit of dread forming in him. How would they survive? With no food, no fuel, few weapons and dwindling numbers he felt his only choice for his people were enslavement, or utter annihilation in the merciless blinding desert. Reaper held his head in his hand, shaking his head slowly back and forth he let out a sigh
"I...I just don't know. What can we do? What is there to do?"
"We fight or we die." Socks declared
"That's suicide!"  Vostroya interjected "We don't have the numbers or the manpower to-" Socks slammed his fist down into the card table hosting the map, bending the legs of the table inward as the cheap metal twisted in. His eyes bulging as he growled
"We don't have any other options! If surrender they'll kill us, if we run they'll know we left and sooner or later, they'll catch up. You think that they're simply going to let us go? If we fight, maybe, just maybe we'll survive with enough numbers to keep the forum going."
"What if only some of us go?" This time it was JMV speaking, hunkered over in a steel folding chair his eyes seemed to fix on nothing as he spoke.
"They'll be expecting an exodus, so... what if we only send a few members out?"
"Why?" Selkie inquired
"To get help." JMV's eyes focused into Selkie intently as he deliberately spelled out his plans.
"Do you think Karel like's the idea of losing his forum to some suit's armed muscle? And silver has a score to settle, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to see Raven out of the way. The nomadic tribes to the eastern plains simply need some persuasion. Raven has hundreds on his side, but if we gather the clans we will be all but unstoppable." The despondant suffering felt throughout the tent began to glisten of hope. The tent fell silent for a few seconds as each boyager contemplated what must be done. Alone they were defenseless, but united as Nsiders they would be able to topple the tyranny that had weighed down so heavily upon them. It was dangerous, they might not survive. But to not try at all simply ensured death. As if one voice spoke for the collective thoughts of all those present a simple question working it's way to a head was finally uttered.
"Who do we send?"

It's good, but will I be in it? ;-;

Great as always. Who do you decide to be in these things? befuddlement And Vostroya is Snorkel

I just realized something, Ringo made me look like a wimp.  baddood;

Quote from: I am Hiro on June 17, 2008, 11:51:04 PM
Great as always. Who do you decide to be in these things? befuddlement And Vostroya is Snorkel

Random selection. I pick a name from the list and go with it.

I see. Is the story going to focus on the party they send, the Boyah camp, or both them and the camp?

Quote from: I am Hiro on June 17, 2008, 11:56:28 PM
I see. Is the story going to focus on the party they send, the Boyah camp, or both them and the camp?

Mostly on the party, occasionally going back to the camp as they fortify themselves for the final assault.

I had a feeling you'd say that. Regardless, i'd like to be in the party if you put me in the story. I can totally see it, especially in the desert.

The sun shone its brutal rays down upon the camp with a brutal intensity, displaying its glory like a flower in full bloom. Brightly it hung high above them, leaving no shadow upon the dark brown dirt that made up the gate's flooring. The camp was abuzz with the gate wall supporting more on it than were off.  Off in the distance an all too familiar sound began to creep it's way into the ears of the sentries, a sound now synonymous with death. Engines, buggies, technicals and cycles revved their way past the winding roads quickly closing the distance between them and the gate. Steal could see now they'd come armed, that was fine with him. He hadn't exactly come unprepared. Strapped to his leg was a steel bolt crossbow, something he's found scrounging around an old weapons shop. Gunpowder was scarce nowadays so anything that could be re-used was considered priceless. Swords, glass bottles, clubs, bows, staves, knives and wires were some of the more common forms of protection used. It all depended on how lucky you were, or who you knew. From here he could see that Mr. Raven had come equally prepared, holstered about him was an antique six shooter. It had been polished to a silver sheen and let off an irritable glare in the blinding sun. While the weapon seemed obsolete the idea of having a ball bearing cleave through his cerebral cortex gave him a newfound respect for the pistol. As the engines came to a halt EJraven spoke again, this time with just a hint of menace in his voice as he adressed the leaders.
"I trust you've come to the right decision."
"Why don't you come back in a few years? We're still thinkin' it over. Better yet, just don't come back." Socks shouted from the left wall with hands cupped
"I wasn't adressing your Cro-Magnon friend, Reaper I'd like my forum now."
Reaper let out a breath and lifted his weary eyes towards the speaker
"Can't we negotiate something? I understand-"
Steal tuned out the conversation, instead focusing on the 50. Caliber gunner on the technical several dozen behind Raven slowly loading a clip into the magazine. Deceit. Raven had no intentions of negotiating, to him they were all simply bodies occupying his new house. Bodies to be removed when it was inconvenient. Carefull not to draw attention, Steal, undid the strap and drew the steel bolt back into place. Turning his head ever so slightly towards Socks position on the folding chair he gave a nod. Tilting his head in acknowldgement Socks began to fumble for something under the seat. The silent signal had been sent from sentry to sentry as each boyager poised to strike. Reaper's speach was closing
"I cannot give this forum to you, not now, not ever. I hope you'll accept my most sincere apologies in this matter."
Raven's lips curled back, giving way to a sinister grin off-set by his black beedy eyes.
"Then I'm afraid, my dear Reaper, that our negotions are at a clo-" A twang rang through the air, Raven blinked trying to register what had just occured. Behind him, the gunner on the technical began to gasp, his face contorting to a pained expression of suprise and terror as he leaned forward. A crimson flow bubbled forward through the gargled attempts to remove the bolt lodged deep in his throat. Taking advantage of the dissaray Socks volleyed a small grenade through the windshield of the vehicle. Chunks of meat and twisted metal scattered across the ground as volleys of bolts sailed from the wall into the scattering thugs, making contact with eyes, legs, arms and whatever was unfortunate enough to be out. Screams erupted as the raiders pierced bodies fell to the ground in writhing agony. Steal could make out the mangled legs of the driver being pulled along from the wreckage by a body barely recognizable as human. The flesh on his back looked like hamburger with tattered pieces of bload soaked clothing clinging to his flesh, each pull resulting in an excrutiating groan from the mangled being. When the dust had settled the raiders had taken cover behind the still remaining vehicles, fixed quietly on the encampments gate.
In the middle stood Raven, unmoving, unblinking. Shaking uncontrollable he clenched his fists and bellowed amongst the remaining able bodied survivors.
"You'll regret this! I'll string every one of you up by months end!" He booned, his voice now filled with uncontrollable rage "Mark my words, my men will obliterate you! You have a month Boyah." his voice seemed to cool as he parted with them one last warning
"Savor it. "
With that they left, leaving the wounded to die, and the boyagers with little time. They had to act, and fast.

Quote from: Sammie on June 17, 2008, 11:51:10 PM
I just realized something, Ringo made me look like a wimp.  baddood;

Eh, I kind of picked your name out of the bucket. Nothing personal.

Damn you ringo

Socks is a fucking badass in this story

Great story you've got there Ringo thumbup;

 Good story Johnny.   :|

I like it.  baddood;

This is brilliant.

Wow, this is amazing. doodthing;
keep going

Where are you ringo, i need my nightly fix!  ;-;

I want the next paaaart. ;-;

And of course Socks likes it, he's fucking badass in every scene.  baddood;

Somewhat innacurate.  baddood;

I hope I'm the awesome leader of the travel party and we go through the desert and i have a crossbow strapped to a sword and i wear a white scarf.

Quote from: Sammie on June 19, 2008, 02:18:51 AM
Somewhat innacurate. 

Not at all you silly wimp.

So the party left for the badlands with the morning sun on their backs and fresh aspirations. Amongst them, Hiro, Wise and quiet he stood amongst them with compass and map in hand as a guide. Clair, whose soft words could turn even the most hardened heart soft. Socks, ever ready with a temper to match his steely will. Sam, whose innocent cunning saw solutions often concealed from so many others. And Steal, prepared to protect even if it cost him his life. These five set off in search of an army. What they would create was nothing short of a nation



With satchel in hand Clair watched the unwavering hand that held the compass as it's holder followed with unquestioning obedience. Hiro had been sent to guide the party to their first destination. His abilities at navigation had gone unmatched back at Boyah. A bandit port known as "Outsider". The Outsiders were led by their leader Che Carello, who's deeds alone had made him infamous throughout Nsider. Anyone wishing to join their crew had first need be inspected by the council there. When the hearings were finished you were either admitted, or left to wander the desert. It kept all but the hardened from entering. Losing her footing for a split second Clair tumbled back before landing squarely on her back in the scorching soft sand. She began to gain a healthy loathing of it. It was coarse, prying, invasive and ever present. Much like some of those she had known back at Nsider. She smiled at her own joke before her dry split lips gave her a quick reminder of the situation. They had little water to begin with, and now they had less. What little food there was at Boyah had been compiled into several satchels they now carried. It was doubtless they'd starve in a short time. She blew the though off like a nagging insect, they would have starved anyways. It would have simply taken longer. Hiro adjusted his steps slightly to match the compass's needle to due Northeast and continued onward. Feeling the pangs of hunger she resisted the urge to consume what little was left of their rations. Steal's head perked up. At first it sounded like nothing more than the monotonous drone of the wind. Seconds passed and the faint sound of an engine began to grow louder, bringing with it the promise of destruction.
"Get down!" Steal hissed. Without hesitation they dropped instinctively, allowing the sound of the engines to eventually fade away before carefully rising yet again.
"How'd they know we were here?" Hiro pondered aloud.
"I wonder if you could be a little more conspicuous, maybe they didn't quite see you on that run." Socks glared back at Hiro
"They were already looking for something long before we arrived."
"Or maybe they saw some idiot wandering half dazed through the desert and decided to check it out."
Hiro continued unphased by the remark "There's nothing here of value to Raven, it's doubtful he would have sent a patrol out. Unless..." Hiro's sentence trailed off as began to chew the lower half of his lip
"Is there anything you'd like to share with the rest of the class? " Socks chided
"Unless they already knew we were here." he finished. Clair felt her heart sink. They had barely gotten into the desert and now this.
"I think we're missing another possibility."Clair interjected "They're expecting an escaping convoy or a large caravan of travellers, not some half starved nobodies crawling through the desert. We should be fine as long as we don't attract any attention".
"I'd say we're well pass half starved." Socks snorted " If the riders don't kill us the heat will. We've got to do something."
"Well then what do you suggest?"
"Through the eastern hills, gray and cold. Lie there memories, dead and old" The conversation came to a sudden halt as the party turned back towards Sam. Her eyes lay vacant and fixed on seemingly nothing, whispering dark sayings as she trembled. watching Sam deliberately Hiro addressed the party once more
"The eastern hills will provide us some relief from the heat."
"And it will take us two days longer! We're running low on food as it is" Steal snapped
"Well then we die in the heat? Which is it?!" Hiro's face turned a bright red as his trembling fists clenched at his sides. The distant howls of a nomad gave testament to another all too familiar danger, nomads. Flesheaters. Clair had seen the bleached white bones of travellers lying in stark comparison to the burning sand, a grim testimony to this harsh deserts inhabitants. Clearing her throat Clair spoke
"Frankly, I'd rather starve then end up somebodies lunch. And JMV did say the tribes in the east may be willing to help us. They may have food.".
The party fell silent as all eyes fell on the east. The decision had been made. A foreboding sensation filled the air as the dark eastern clouds watched them from a distance.

Meta-Knight bustled past a motivational poster and up a flight of stairs. Nsider 2 had been experiencing a lot of changes lately, some people felt Raven's actions justified him as a tyrant. That these changes were made for no other reason than to stroke his own ego. Meta knew EJ was nothing short of a visionary, a mastermind whose brilliant work had united so many Nsiders for the common good! Yes the signatures had been revoked to remove unwanted advertisers, yes the protective barrier had been placed to prevent members from leaking secrets to the outside and yes troublemakers, and occasionally their family members went missing for extended periods of time. In the end it didn't matter how they did it, as long as they got it done Making a sharp turn Meta could hear the sound of broken glass accompanied by several inebriates declarations. EJ had gotten into the bottle again. This meant he would be especially moody. Peeking his head in through the office door Meta could see EJ caressing a half empty bottle of J&B.
"Meta-Knight" EJ chortled "Just the man I wanted to see!"
"Sir, I brought the progress report on the background checks you req-"
"Never mind that boy, come. Sit down." EJ could see a map of the badlands. EJ's expression turned from a drunken grin to an incredibly sullen scowl.
"You see this?" he poked at a small valley on the map "Why don't I own this?"
Meta stammered at the sudden mood change "Sir  I-I don't-"
EJ leaned forward, mere inches from Meta's face. His face reeked of alcohol
"Why don't I own this?!" he glowered down at Meta, his eyes filled with a building fury
"I don't know."
EJ lept from his chair and sent Meta across the floor with a backhand
"Then you're just as useless as the rest of them! " he bellowed "I should own it! I have the money, I have the URL but I don't have the forum. They won't give it to me and I want it!"
Trying to pacify Raven Meta gestured towards the map "You have so many other forums. Why is this one so important? "
Raven snatched the map off the table and shoved it into Meta's face
"I want this one" he roared, by now his face a deep magenta as he paced the office floor. Meta felt a pang of terror as EJ's eyes turned on him
"You did this didn't you? You told them I was coming! "
Meta desperately grasped for an answer "I had no idea you were even-"
"You're all in this together! You! The administrators! The members! I give you a forum and you all hate me! I bet you just can't wait until I'm gone!" his foot came down on the floor as his tantrum began to build.
"You think I'm insane? 'Oh he's just a waning old man' ! They're all conspiring against me" EJ waved his hands wildly as screamed, by now fully ignoring Meta's presence. And as quickly as it came, it left. Still staggering he knelt back down and spoke to Meta in an all too soothing tone.
"Meta, I want you to get this for me. I don't care how, it doesn't matter why. Just get it for me. Now you had some progress reports for me on those background checks, I'd like those delivered to my desk". With that EJ quietly made his way to his desk, straightened out his pants and sat down. Scooping up the scattered papers with trembling hands Meta carefully organized them neatly on EJ's desk before briskly making his way to the door. Steadying himself he began to turn the door knob ever so deftly to the left. A soft voice from the back of the room echoed into his ears
"Meta"
"Yes, sir?"
"If you fail to get that for me, I'm going to find you. I'm going to find whoever you're with. And I'm going to kill you both. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good boy, you'll do fine."

Damn, that was the shit son.

Incredible

And to think all of you just sat here and complained about stuff lol.


I don't think I'd be considered in the group though, I don't fit in baddood;

Quote from: Blaziken on June 19, 2008, 03:06:16 PM
And to think all of you just sat here and complained about stuff lol.


I don't think I'd be considered in the group though, I don't fit in baddood;

You can be the dark steed I arrive on. caterpie;

Quote from: Lalie on June 19, 2008, 03:07:22 PM
You can be the dark steed I arrive on. caterpie;

No you stupid silly fairy.

Quote from: Lalie on June 19, 2008, 03:07:22 PM
You can be the dark steed I arrive on. caterpie;

I could see you like joining our party when we meet you in Outsider.  befuddlement doodella;

 Very interesting. Lots of thought put into the characters. I like how you descibe things.

Shit, I'm in the scouting party... Nice.  baddood;

Quote from: Socks on June 19, 2008, 08:03:29 PM
Shit, I'm in the scouting party... Nice.  baddood;

Do you know where you'd be without me?

DEAD. THAT'S WHERE.

Quote from: Sammie on June 19, 2008, 10:05:44 PM
Do you know where you'd be without me?

baddood;

The Mideastern country was a dark place, mystic and threatening with little known about it. The air was a dry cool, tasteless sterility that left the lips parched and the soul shriveled. Nothing survived in these quiet spaces. Year ago, during the Nsider years prominent IF forums would often hold ceremonial battles in hopes of attracting members. Those who perished in these battles were buried in these lands. Used by the nomads as a sort of elephant burial ground, generations after generation's bones lined the topsoil. The ground was a lifeless ash grey. Thin dead forrests covered the landscape, leaving sparse tunnels of trees to overlap above the narrow roads. Sam couldn't tell whether it was night or day, the air felt uneasy to her. The dead silence in the air reminded her of the static noise during a thunderstorm. It frightened her, but not as much as the images. Since Wrench's death she began to feel pangs, flashes of light, a sentence here and there before utter silence. She stared off into the thinning grey forest and felt a herself being watched. She heard a strange hum through the darkness. The trees. Something was crying in the trees, soft at first, like an infants cry. Beckoning her to come closer into the dark abyss. Another voice joined the first, adding an unsettling harmony to the first as several more joined in. The wailing began to get louder as the voices soon began to surround her. The multitude of voices seemed to penetrate her very mind as she squeezes her eyes shut in an attempt to drive out the voices. When she opened them, her blood turned cold. The trees had turned a luminouscent white, glowing brightly in contrast to the deadened landscape.
"Steal!" she whispered hoarsely
"What is it?"
"The trees." she continued in terror "The trees are weeping blood". She suppressed a scream as rivers of crimson flowed down the sides of the gnarled plants, pooling at the side of the road and flowing forward as they wailed in anguish. Gnarling together they seemed to writhe in absolute agony. They were bleeding, and they were screaming.
Steal watched her with concern before dismissively moving on "I don't see anything."
And with that, they were gone. The voices, the blood and the white trees. Leaving nothing but the empty sound of the howling wind. But she never lost the sensation she was being watched.
Hiro continued through the winding road, stopping occasionally to make a small navigational correction here and there. Sam tried to think back to happier times, back at Nsider. She remembered the cave, the awards, the conversations... she remembered hearing about the split, and dying a little inside. Clair clutched the satchel to her chest, sharply inhaling before quickening her step.
"I don't like this place, where are we?"
"That's what I've been trying to figure out." Hiro remarked scratching his head "According to the map we're in a lush green mountain pass roughly twenty miles short of the eastern nomadic territory."
"I don't see any lush or green" Socks simmered "Something's happened here, something nasty. Keep alert."
"It's odd, this map's only a few years old. How could everything just have gone off and died?" Hiro shook his head "It just doesn't make sense".
Sam's head turned sharply, fixating on a rustling through the thicket. She could hear a voice. It seemed garbled as it spoke.
"How much further is it? This place doesn't feel right" Steal grimaced.
The voice seemed to clear a bit, something familiar in it.
"About 16 miles more and we'll be out"
As they came upon a clearing she stared in wide eyed wonder, in front of them stood a castle quite fitting to the landscape. Mortared with ash grey brick and roofed with a dark red plating it stood erect against the night sky. The main building held three towers in place, the tallest of which held a spiraling staircase that descended to a side room of the main floor. In the distance she could make out the faint glow of a fireplace
"Well it looks like somebody left the light on for us." Clair laughed uneasily
Suddenly that voice in the back of her mind became all too clear.
"RUN!"

Christ ringo write a book you got talent. That was some demented shit

These are amazing, Ringo. You and Andrew need to team up and make the ultimate fan fiction.

 O_0

I'm scared. ;-;

Tall foreboding oak comprised the castles gates, Clair felt something familiar to this place. It was like returning home and finding yourself alone after a long vacation away. Up close she could see the castle had been ingeniously engineered by several parties over several years. It appeared there had been several additions made over the years before it's inexplicable vacancy, leaving her wondering why none had bothered seizing it since then. Grasping firmly on the steel knocker, Socks pulled back and tapped against the aged wood consecutively until the echoes of the first slowly died away. Seized with life the doors lurched forward before slowly creeping back, revealing the dim stony interior that lay inside. Before them lay a magnificent grand staircase opening up into an equally sized foyer. Clair's eyes darted back and forth into the darkness, taking in every detail of the empty entryway. Her eyes adjusting to the dark Clair became aware of someone, or something standing atop the staircase.
"Come in. I've been expecting you." His speech was slow and deliberate, with a touch of repulsiveness that could be felt from across the room as he spoke.
"Please, enter. You must be..." pausing to find the right descriptory word he finished "exhausted". His frame seemed skeletal, two green dots shone like cat's eyes from the sunken sockets. The pasty white pallor added a deathly contrast to the black formal wear that adorned him.
Breaking the silence Clair stepped forward
"My friends and I are looking for somewhere to stay the night, we were hoping you'd be willing to let us lodge".
His face turned to a twisted smile as he bowed courteously
"I've had my servants prepare your chambers for your arrival. I trust you will find everything most satisfying. Please, stay as long as you'd like."
"If you'll excuse my prying, where are they now?"
"Who?"
"Your servants, you said they'd been responsible for preparing our rooms. I wanted to properly thank them for their hospitality." Clair lied. She knew next to nothing about this... thing and somehow he'd been able to furnish their rooms even before their arrival.
"They're... about" he smiled  "Though I doubt they'd be in any mood to entertain guests, especially at this hour. But you are free to-"
"Would you just show us our rooms?" Socks interrupted causing their host to contort his mouth into an irritated scowl.
"Very well then, I suppose I shall have to dine alone." His eyes twinkled mischievously as their gazes fell square upon him.
"Dine?" Steal half croaked in disbelief
"Oh, yes. I had just been preparing to sup. My chef's have the course layed out in the banquet hall. If you would like to dine with me I suppose I could manage the company."
"We simply couldn't impose" Clair placated, Steal's focus turned on her with a furious glare.
"Who died and made you leader?" he snarled. He hadn't had a decent meal for longer than he could remember. He certainly wasn't going to miss one now.
"I shan't have my guests quarreling now. I insist, it will be of no trouble at all". 
Resignedly, Clair followed their new host further into the labyrinth. He seemed to disregard his new guests as he darted forward through the massive torch lit halls. She remembered this place, it was a memory from somewhere that she couldn't yet grasp. Sam's held a terrified death grip to her satchel as Hiro marvelled at the brilliantly intricate tapestries that adorned the walls.
"Excuse me." he called through the dimly lit hall "Did you make these?"
The host gave a pause and gazed upwards towards the cloth
"No, no. Those who came before me did." With that he turned and continued onward through the gloom.
Hiro studied the piece while the others moved on. It had been written as a story, a sort of visual chronicle. This one depicted a group of people working out in the field. He turned his attention to the next image grouping depicting the setting sun and rising moon. The next panel depicted some sort of calamity, something that came suddenly. And the last, a sort of black figure standing amongst their bones. Hiro felt a shiver run down his spine as he hurried forward, hoping to leave the sensation behind him. It had most probably been some sort of natural disaster. Yes, that was it. An earthquake or a plague some nomads had given mythical status to explain away their irrational and superstitious fears. It had to be.

I'm your number one fan Ringo. I quite like your depiction of me, and it is somewhat true.

But what happened to the RUN from last chapter, and where was Steal? There, just didn't talk?

What happened to the RUN from last chapter? and did steal just not talk. But once again, superb. bassir;

Oh wait steal did talk. I was thinking that was socks for some reason befuddlement

Quote from: I am Hiro on June 21, 2008, 12:54:39 AM
But what happened to the RUN from last chapter, and where was Steal? There, just didn't talk?

The RUN was a warning to Sam. Think of it like a sort of sixth sense, the same reason she could see the trees while the others couldn't. 

Warning to what?

Quote from: I am Hiro on June 21, 2008, 01:04:20 AM
Warning to what?

A warning to the the heck out of dodge.
A "Run away while you still have the chance! " sort of thing.

Oh i get it now. The castle is creepy, i imagine the old guy as the critic from ratatooie lol. I wonder what he has to do with the main story... And those tapestries... You gonna do another tonight?

I know a good theme song for this maybe. And next chapter should be in Boyah or NSider 2

Quote from: Ringo on June 21, 2008, 12:42:02 AM
"Would you just show us our rooms?" Socks interrupted causing their host to contort his mouth into an irritated scowl.

Classic.

 Very good Johnny. 

Quote from: I am Hiro on June 21, 2008, 01:10:05 AM
Oh i get it now. The castle is creepy, i imagine the old guy as the critic from ratatooie lol. I wonder what he has to do with the main story... And those tapestries... You gonna do another tonight?

I imagine the old guy as Snape. >.>

ringo is the best storyteller ever

Quote from: Lawlz on June 22, 2008, 01:04:57 AM
ringo is the best storyteller ever

lets give him special story telling rank powers ~_^

If I'm not in it, I'm not reading it.
I'm that selfish.  :(

Quote from: The Only ClassicTyler on June 22, 2008, 10:26:44 AM
If I'm not in it, I'm not reading it.
I'm that selfish.  :(

wow you're a prick. You should at least appreciate this great work of art. Or not post in the thread so as not to discourage ringo from working hard on it. You might as well have said "tl;dr lol0okoadaibfihgiauhd".

Quote from: KonohaShinobi on June 22, 2008, 10:31:35 AM
wow you're a prick. You should at least appreciate this great work of art. Or not post in the thread so as not to discourage ringo from working hard on it. You might as well have said "tl;dr lol0okoadaibfihgiauhd".

Fine I'll read it you god damn asshole.

Dinner was a quiet formality, both parties involved had cultured a perfect distrust of one another. I sat on the right of the banquet table with Sam to my left and Socks to my right. Clair and Steal sat directly opposite of me and our rather eccentric host sat silhouetted against the cracking wood fireplace at table's head. He watched us feed with folded hands and a hawkish fervor. The knocking of an ebony pendulum clock knocking softly back aside the fireplace.
"How is the food? I know you must all be famished from your long journey. Where was you from again?"
"Doesn't matter." Clair retorted sharply, bringing the conversation back to a quiet lull as she examined her soup. Apparently she shared the same suspisciouns in regards to their host. Hiro felt that if the time should come their host felt the need of disposing of them discreetly, a subtle poison would do the trick nicely. Hiro had no choice, he either ate it or died of starvation. Steal swallowed another spoonfull of the piping hot soup before breaking the rather ominous silence that hung about them
"That's pretty good stuff, what's in it?"
Their host held his chin with his hand, listing off the ingredients as he studied the ceiling
"Let's see here, green beans, lintels, corn, tomatoes, vegetable broth... " he brought his gaze back down to Clair, apparently noting her distrust before finishing with a completely matter of-fact-tone
"And arsenic, lots of arsenic. Adds flavor and gives the minestrone a certain kick". I sputtered, I feeling myself gag as I reached for the fork, if I was quick enough I could force myself to expel some of the toxin before it took effect. Our host's solemn demeanor gave way to a child-like smile as he bent over to slurp the hot minestrone before letting out a satisfied sigh.
I watched as the tension released from Steal's shoulders
"Some sense of humor you've got there." Steal murmured between spoonfuls.
"More wine, friend?" I noted our host's attention had turned to Socks, who had been nursing the tarnished silver goblet like an infant child and his feet propped comfortably on the solid oak table. His eyes glazed over with a satisfied inebriated stupor as he spoke
"Certainly! Why don't you top me off here, I'm runnin' low!" Socks laughed racously. Their host unseated himself and stalked towards Socks soundlessly, his eyes gleeming with glee as he held the wine flask underarm. Tilting the container ever so slightly he began to pour the deep red mirth into the goblet.
"Whoah! Whoah, that's good! I wanna be able to walk to my room. We've got to be ready to go."
"Where are you going?" he probed, his eyes gleeming a luminous green against the firelight. Before I was able to get in a word in edgewise Socks had already revealed most of our plan, our host nodding ever so sympathetically with each word. The imbecile! I felt my hands spasm with anger as Socks tilted his head back, draining the goblet of its contents. Knowing our plans our host seemed quite content, sipping his soup with dawdling disinterest. I decided it might be a good time to find out about our "friend" a bit more.
"Those taperstries, you mentioned someone else had woven them. Who?" Glancing up before taking in another sip he quietly wiped his lips with his dinner napkin
"The previous inhabitants used them as a chronicle, a sort of visual history book. Entailing everything from their fresh beginnings to their rather gruesome end."
I waited for that same mischevous smile he'd shown before to creep up from the corners of his lips. It didn't.
"Why do the trees weep blood?" this time it was Sam speaking "They told me to run. ", I noted a pained mixture of pain and wrath in her eyes building, boring into the host with threatening intensity.
"Child, if you must converse with the foliage then speak with the shrubbery. They're much better conversationalists." he laughed uneasisly, his dismissing humor unable to disguise the growing fear growing inside. What was he afraid of? I watched Sam's grip tighten as her voice seemed to resonate with a powerful wrath. And as she spoke the fireplace roared, flourishing with her increasing tone, illuminating the shadows until the room brightened with an eerily tinted glow. 
"Or is it because they hurt?."
"They weep for their loss and their shattered hopes. I am not responsible for their suffering."
"You rest on their graves and feed on the rations."
The host's voice brimmed with fury as he stood to his feet, knocking the chair back with a clatter to the stone floor
"I keep their graves! I clean their homes and in return they provide company! I've fed you, I've let you lodge and this is how you repay me? By insulting my home and indeed yours?!" he hissed
"Our home is Nsider!" she retorted back with increasing rage, rising from her seat to meet his challenge.
"This is Nsider!" the host spat. Sam fell back into her seat stunned, her eyes vacant and numb. I felt a growing knot in my stomach and suddenly, my appetite had left me. The tapestries, the castle, the familiarity he remembered this place. I noted the carving on the chair behind Clair, 'Mike'. Behind Steal was 'Andy'. They were in the admin board. As the pieces of the puzzle fell slowly into place, waves of grief overcame me. Stifling a sob I felt a myself choking back tears as his voice broke the quiet, this time in a grim tone befitting of the situation.
"When Nsider died, everything died. Nothing would grow. Those killed in the blast were trampled underfoot, their hopes and dreams in this place following suit until all that remained was ash and memories. Expeditions spread across the desserts in search of new lands, leaving me to starve. They sheltered me and they feed me, in turn I watch over them, guarding them from grave robbers and plunderers seeking their fortune from corpses."
Shaking me from the events at hand the ebony grandfather clock suddenly struck twelve, it's flat clang leaving an incredibly unnerving sensation through me as I felt the deathly cold seize me. The smoldering fireplace soon died down as the clock struck yet again. It's unearthly flat clangs etching themselves into my mind with each reverberation. The host turned and spoke with hushed caution
"Quickly, to your rooms. Lock the doors and don't turn back!"
I didn't need to be told more than once. Bolting through the hallway we rushed up the flight of stairs and through the halls, navigating by the lit torches set as directions until we reached the dimly lit suite inside.
Rushing in with my friends closing behind I could hear something as I slammed the door. It was a melody, enchanting and serene it enticed me, pulling me towards it with such compelling force that I hadn't realized what had happened until Sam gripped my shoulder with a terror ridden eyes
"Bolt the door." she whispered with an expression of absolute fear. The door in front of me shook for a second, I felt paralyzed as the music grew louder. Compelling me to open the door and join them. The melody seemed to have a maddening message to it, wracking my very soul as it whispered with sinister intent
"Dance with us, dance with us into oblivion."
It was growing louder. Why couldn't they hear it? Drawing on every reserve of my own willpower I stumbled back, focusing on driving the whispers from my head. Sensing my defiance the doorknob gave a shudder, then it began to turn. Clair rushed the door, setting the bolts in place before falling back with dreading exhaustion.

I don't even like alcohol that much.  :'(

Quote from: Socks on June 25, 2008, 12:20:24 AM
I don't even like alcohol that much.  :'(

Tough luck, you're an alchoholic.  baddood;

Quote from: Ringo on June 25, 2008, 12:21:09 AM
Tough luck, you're an alchoholic. 

At least I enjoyed myself.  baddood;

So... was I sitting across or next to you? >.>

Quote from: Sammie on June 25, 2008, 12:29:22 AM
So... was I sitting across or next to you? >.>

I noticed that, you were sitting next to Hiro across from Clair.  My bad.

So who is he? What's the music? Since when were you with us? Also, Sam is across from you as Well as to your side, while you didn't say where i sit. Also, a small grammatical error at the start. But thank you kindly for putting out another wonderful chapter after so long. Socks seemed off too

Jesus Hiro, it's his story let the man tell it.

Each chapter leaves us more questions while not answering any, i hope it all ties up in the end. It's been a while since we've heard from Boyah and NSider 2

Quote from: Hiro! on June 25, 2008, 12:31:28 AM
So who is he? What's the music? Since when were you with us? Also, Sam is across from you as Well as to your side, while you didn't say where i sit. Also, a small grammatical error at the start. But thank you kindly for putting out another wonderful chapter after so long. Socks seemed off too

Actually "I" wasn't there. I'm speaking through your vantage point here. I may occasionally do that in the forms of journal entries later on but no assurances. The Sam across from Sam thing was supposed to have Clair across from you and Sam to your right. I got tired and forgot.

Ringo give me a percentage of how much of the story is already over, is it over 5o%?

Quote from: Socks on June 25, 2008, 12:37:54 AM
Ringo give me a percentage of how much of the story is already over, is it over 5o%?

I'd say 5% is about right.

Quote from: Ringo on June 25, 2008, 12:38:35 AM
I'd say 5% is about right.

Damn, at this rate it should be over by end of summer.  :'(

Yay epic long story! Any chance for sequels? it was from MY point of view? Dude that kicks ass.

Meta stood over the recruits he'd been assigned. His task had been made quite clear, remove the Boyagers from their position at whatever costs. Most Nsiders were reluctant to kill their fellow Nsiders, but these ones weren't really people. Not really. They were vermin to be exterminated with extreme prejudice. Now he simply had to convince his men of it. Pulling down a backdrop Meta dimmed the lights and let the slide projector do his work for him. A few seconds passed as the slide came into focus,Slide one showed a prosperous forum, various townsfolk involved in mining and fishing.
"Meet Cuccoscratch." He began "A small community of a few hundred members. Remote and completely content to exist and co-exist. Boyah saw it differently" He narrated, noting the expressions of each individual before continuing.
The crowd released an unwilling gasp as the next slide flashed on screen. Perfect. The happy community lay in ruins, with dying flames and black smoke rising from piles of debris spotted across the scorching landscape. Bodies lay prostrate, most unrecognizable as even human.
"Using the aid of the violent neighboring nomadic tribes, Boyah systematically slaughtered the 200+ members in cold blood. "
Fumbling for the switch Meta clicked the device causing the next slide to appear with nauseating efficiency. Skinless corpses, eyes bulging in terror stared lifelessly into the camera lense.
"After dragging several members by buggy from cords through the burning desert, the boyagers became bored."
Next slide. Charred corpses clung to eachother, their nude skinless corpses blackened by intense heat. The recruits indignation was beginning to rise.
"And burned the barn, men women and children." Meta concluded. Yes he knew it was a lie. Cuccoscratch had defied EJ and had been brought into line. It happened. He repeated his motto to himself in reassurance, The ends justify the means.
"Geeze, they killed Brad" one of the murmuring crowd cringed at a near faceless mangled corpse. Taking this opportunity to rouse his audience Meta lifted his hands into the air, communicating EJ's mistruth, not a lie but simply an embelished fabrication, with fanatical devotion.
"Our job is to avenge our boys, first by eliminating the nomads who assisted them. Men, understand that failure is not an option. If Boyah is allowed to go unpunished they will continue to kill and to maim."
As the lights brightened Meta straightened himself, setting his attention on the determined group of warriors before him.
"You are the finest we have, our mission is clear. Our cause righteous and our vision set. Riders!" he screamed from the top of his lungs
"Let them taste your vengeance! Grind their bones into the marred dust from whence they came and avenge your fallen brethren! We strike at dawn!" Meta closed his eyes and basked in the whelming applause that filled the air. Grasping the ceremonial katana at his side he caressed the hilt markings gently. He had honed his body and mind for the day when he met Reaper on the field of battle. He would take his head after plunging his blade deep into his writhing body, savoring his cries for mercy before ripping the life from him. He imagined wrenching the hilt from Reaper's abdomen carving out his chest with savage brutality as he savored the blood that would pour out from his abominable corpse. No one would dare oppose him then. The Boyagers would submit and maybe he might even let a few live, provided they could be made useful to him. EJ might just promote him, of course they had to focus on the now. No sense counting the chickens before they hatched. There was still a tribe of nomads out there to deal with. Word was Boyah intended on striking a deal with them, it figured. Hyenas always hunted in packs. His riders would be willing to do anything for him, even die. They'd set a labor camp up in the east desert, it would only take a few days to convert it into a launching ground for an assault. When he'd finished with them there wouldn't be any survivors, no one to tell what happened. Walking out from the cheers and applause Meta straddled the dune cycle with katana and shoto secured firmly to his back. He had some scouting to do.

That chapter was excellent. bassir;  and i thought there was some good in Meta ;-;  Well, I'm glad You're back to two chapters at midnight after none for a while. Should i expect more tomorrow at midnight? Once again, that was a very good chapter, can't wait for the battle. ^_^

Quote from: Hiro! on June 25, 2008, 01:31:20 AM
That chapter was excellent. bassir;  and i thought there was some good in Meta ;-;  Well, I'm glad You're back to two chapters at midnight after none for a while. Should i expect more tomorrow at midnight? Once again, that was a very good chapter, can't wait for the battle. ^_^

Who says there isn't good in Meta? He's very zealous and misled by a charismatic leader. He thinks he's doing right, after all as long as the results are good it doesn't matter how he gets it done.

Yeah, i see good in him, but he must not like Reaper

who the fuck is meta

Quote from: Pyner on June 25, 2008, 08:41:51 AM
who the fuck is meta

LOL.

Doesn't anyone else see the depth of the characters?  There is much more here than just a story.

Very good Johnny.

Quote from: Clair on June 25, 2008, 09:30:23 AM
Doesn't anyone else see the depth of the characters? 

I'm an alcoholic.

Quote from: Socks on June 25, 2008, 09:38:29 AM
I'm an alcoholic.

I'm just plain cool.

Like a psychic.  befuddlement

Quote from: Socks on June 25, 2008, 09:38:29 AM
I'm an alcoholic.

There is much more there than you drinking.  You are not a shallow alcoholic. 

Quote from: Clair on June 25, 2008, 09:42:03 AM
There is much more there than you drinking.  You are not a shallow alcoholic. 

Hmm... can't wait to see how this develops. Which leads to only one question... When are we all getting together to film this?

Quote from: Socks on June 25, 2008, 09:46:00 AM
Hmm... can't wait to see how this develops. Which leads to only one question... When are we all getting together to film this?

haha, i was  just thinking the same thing. Honest.

Quote from: Sammie on June 25, 2008, 09:46:49 AM
haha, i was  just thinking the same thing. Honest.

I guess ringo was right about your powers bassir;

Yeah, let's film it!  doodella;

If not a proper movie at least an animated one. I can draw the characters, we just need someone to work some computer magic.

Quote from: Socks on June 25, 2008, 09:51:01 AM
If not a proper movie at least an animated one. I can draw the characters, we just need someone to work some computer magic.

That would also be kick ass

Quote from: Socks on June 25, 2008, 09:51:01 AM
If not a proper movie at least an animated one. I can draw the characters, we just need someone to work some computer magic.

That would be so great. It could put us right out there for the world to envy.   :|

Quote from: Clair on June 25, 2008, 09:56:43 AM
That would be so great. It could put us right out there for the world to envy.

Watch out Disney, here comes Boyah.

Ringo leaned against the stone fireplace in deep contemplation, he would not attend the ball. Not tonight.
His guests would simply have to go on without him. Doubtless they'd be dissapointed, but tonight he was in no mood. When he first returned to this place he'd found it quite like it was now, lifeless and cold.
He remembered ambling aimlessly through the bodies, Nsider.
This was all that remained. As the last few InvisionFree bands departed, leaving with them their history and broken legacy he felt an immense sorrow. These dead needed a burial place where they could rest in peace, not rot across the countryside like animals. Scooping up the bodies he buried every last one in the catacombs of this place until he alone was left to tend to the ashes.
Smiling grimly at the irony of what he'd just thought Ringo reminisced about the first time he'd encountered them.
One night he was awoken by a noise deep in the castles interior, it was a Waltz judging by the rhythm. He remembered hurrying through the empty halls, following the tune with such fervor he nearly fell down the stairs. Unabated he had lifted himself up from the near catastrophe and raced further breaking into the night sky of the empty garden. There was nothing there, no music, no waltz, nothing but a dried fountain and withered plants. And that's when they came, glistening water gushed up from the dead fount, the plants livened and the trees, oh the trees sang a song so beautifully tragic he was unable to hold his tears back as they rolled from his cheeks onto the warm stones beneath.
The nomads reffered to this place with dread as the midnight kingdom, everything awoke at the stroke of twelve. That was two years ago. He remembered hearing the trees, this time wailing as they warned the approach of these foreign invaders. The child had awakened something laying long dormant in him. Something he'd not felt in himself, the absolute lividness in which she had adressed him. She heard them as well, the howling of the trees that fell on so many deaf ears as they approached. Bright eyes, brown hair and a determined spirt unwilling to die.
When he first saw her from atop the grand staircase he felt sorrow emenating from the frail body that matched his own. He'd convinced himself it was pity. She was no natural survivor, the world would trample her underfoot given the opportunity. But as dinner progressed he realized he'd betrayed his own intentions. Guised as pity he'd allowed concern to give place to infatuation until all he could see were her eyes blazing into his very soul. Those smoldering eyes that burnt in his skin and scorching his very flesh and bone. The flames blazed inside him, burning with intense desire he felt himself spiralling out of control.  Those innocent green eyes branding themselves into his minds eye until it was all he could do to not rush the stairs and make her his own. Grasping two handfuls of hair Ringo, wracked with pained cried against the volcano of lust that roared in him, deafening every other sense in him until the engulfing flames seemed to burn throughout him.
Like fire! Hellfire! Black creeping flames that seared his mind and left him incapable of even the most basic thought. He should have apologized for his behavior at the table. Yes he would console her, and maybe more. Disgusted by his own ambition Ringo flung the silver goblet across the room. Watching the piece clatter across the stone floor it dawned on him, he smirked as he gazed back towards the mantelplace. He would invite her to dance.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?

[spoiler]You're the old man?
AMAZING

Who's the girl, Sam?
So is this story set a year in the future?[/spoiler]

This was a very... interesting chapter... it revealed some.... stuff.
WHAT SHALL HAPPEN NEXT?!?  caterpie;

Quote from: Hiro! on June 25, 2008, 11:40:31 AM
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?

[spoiler]You're the old man?
AMAZING

Who's the girl, Sam?
So is this story set a year in the future?[/spoiler]

This was a very... interesting chapter... it revealed some.... stuff.
WHAT SHALL HAPPEN NEXT?!?  caterpie;

I never said anything about old, just very skinny.  >.<

OH MY GOD. VERY INTENSE. 

Quote from: Ringo on June 25, 2008, 11:43:01 AM
I never said anything about old, just very skinny.  >.<

Oh yeah, I just imagine him/you as this:

[spoiler](http://www.emilio.com.mx/images/ego.jpg)[/spoiler]

Quote from: Clair on June 25, 2008, 09:30:23 AM
LOL.

no i'm serious who

Quote from: Pyner on June 25, 2008, 12:02:53 PM
no i'm serious who

Wait and see.   :|

Nice. doodella;

..you know... I'm really not much of a dancer... >.>;

Quote from: Sammie on June 25, 2008, 01:50:32 PM
..you know... I'm really not much of a dancer... >.>;

Don't worry, you'll do fine  doodella;

Clair, can I also have this dance?

Quote from: Socks on June 25, 2008, 07:19:55 PM
Clair, can I also have this dance?

Why yes sir, you may. 

the innocent girl falls for the manipulative bad boy^^

How dare Clair take my innocence.  :'(

Quote from: Socks on June 25, 2008, 08:32:29 PM
How dare Clair take my innocence.  :'(

lol

Quote from: Socks on June 25, 2008, 08:32:29 PM
How dare Clair take my innocence.  :'(

LMAO. Good one.  caterpie;

Thief watched the rising sun and let out a sigh of relief. His shift on the wall was over and they had survived the night, tonight. Thief knew EJ wasn't likely to simply forget they were there. It had been six days since the expedition trekked out into the desert on foot. Since then two had died of starvation, Thief noted the grieving Nyerp staggering out of his tent, tear reddened eyes fixed towards the sky he fell to his knees before sobbing uncontrollably. Make that three. Three had died of starvation and several more lay near dead with pneumonia. Ignoring Nyerp's plea's for help, several Boyagers began to divide his late friends corpse into pieces. Bone cracked and muscle tendon tore as the few Boyagers sank their teeth into the body with savage alacricity. Within minutes all that was left were the emptied bones and few organs, Nyerp hysterically trying to gather what remained of his friend before others could come. Thief shook his head and grimaced, this is what they'd become. Take basic neccessities from a man and soon you'll strip him of his humanity. His shift was over, he would sleep the day away and awake yet again to face the unyielding hunger that would no doubt follow. Sensing a shallow breathing Thief turned to meet the hungry stare of Kono,  the man hadn't eaten in days and it became quite clear what was on his mind.
"Kono, I don't mean to frighten you but I'm seriously considering killing you here and now so help me if you don't find something else to look at." he snapped. He felt a guilty for his brisque demeanor, but then again starvation did that to a guy.
Kono's eyes quickly averted towards the rising sun
"We gonna make it Thief? I don't wanna to die, not now."
"We all have to die sometime. We're just lucky if we get to choose when and were."
"Why does Raven want to get rid of us so badly?" he whispered "Why does he hate us so much?"
"Raven doesn't think like you and me, Kono. He doesn't see us as people, he sees us as objects, obstacles to his goal. Obstacles to be removed."
"Obstacles to what goal?"
Thief paused. He had no answer. And as if in resounding response, shouts erupted from the camp followed by an explosive shaking. Cutless, Oggmonster and Ethereal scrambled back, attempting to escape the black liquid pooling outward from the bubbling fount. Thief dropped from the ladder and rushed towards the site, knocking over Buffy. Ogg stumbled forward, covered head to toe in the black ooze as half-ambled from the site. Thief grabbed the disorientated boyager by the collar, trying to overcome over the gushing fount as he shouted
"What happened?!"
Ogg's eyes rolled wildly as he tried to process the information. Thief shook him violently as he asked again. Ogg breathed faintly.
"We were digging... for water... when it burst". Thief set Ogg down in the grass, the smell was overpowering. The black liquid stained his robes and shimmered in the grass, oil. They were standing on a whole ocean of oil, just beneath their feet. All they had to do was dig a few yards down and they'd have it.
Kono stopped, bending over to catch his breath
"Well " he chuckled "We've struck oil, too bad we don't need any."
No, but EJ did. The realization struck him with blunt force. This wasn't about members, it was about resources and Raven was going to kill them for it.

awwww i'm sad

Good lord, That's some fucked up shit there Ringo.

Ringo you should write a book

 That was totally unexpected.   O_0

Sam paced the floor, she couldn't sleep. She felt drained, the past three days had been an uneasy and restless. Their strange host dissapeared for hours on end, leaving them to explore the castle on their own. Clair kept to the library archives, where various fan fictions had been stored over the years. Their host, who had revealed himself to be none other than Johnny Ringo the Second, had once caught Clair unaware, suggested a book and dissapeared as mysteriously as he came. Sam had noted that he seemed to delight in keeping unseen and unheard, concealing himself until the last second then abruptly appearing with an all too familiar smirk. The castle was a veritable labyrinth, tunnels linked to passageways and back into tunnels before trailing off into a dead end. She could only imagine how many more were left unexplored. Socks seemed distant, she could feel it. It was like talking to a stranger, in the daytime he would often wander the castle, humming some tune to himself as he searched their asylum for its source. Steal and Hiro kept together, Hiro had convinced Steal of their safety in numbers and the two kept close watch of eachother through whatever their activities. Now they lay quietly in their bunks, slumbering peacefully. This place seemed dead in the day, but at night she felt nothing but restlessness. Something was moving outside of their door, stalking quietly just outside of her sight.
"Over here." It whispered. Sam ventured past the threshold, her curiousity kept an unmerciful hold on her, pulling her closer and closer while every other sense seemed to pull her back.
"Closer. Clo-ser..."
Sam crept further, drawn to the voice as it wooed her onward.
"This way"
Down the staircase
"Come now. "
Past the hall
"Keep going"
Where was it coming from? It was ahead, just ahead. Then it got distant, leading her closer with every utterance.
"A bit further..." it trailed off. Sam turned the corner to find Ringo standing in the midst of the garden clad in black formal wear and cloak, save for a silver bolo hung about the neck. His frame illuminated by the pale moonlight he extended his arm with an almost inhuman calm.
"Dance with me" His voice was commanding yet gentle seducing the ear and delighting the spirit, propelling Sam blindly towards its originator. Grasping onto the black leather gloves Sam stared up into his jade eyes.
"I can't dance" her voice trembling as she took his hand
"Anyone can dance, it comes natural. Like breathing. Come, I will show you." And on cue a tragic melody filled the garden, softly at first, growing more intricate as she listened. Sam lost herself in the music, letting it guide her footsteps they waltzed to the bitter tune. When she opened her eyes she was surrounded, not by a dead patio, but a living garden. Innumerable pairs moved with poetic beauty, stepping in perfect timing to the compelling piece that overpowered their senses. Barely touching the floor the incandescent pairs glided across the floor, showing transluscent through this pale moon. The garden came alive, whitened trees shading their movement through ruddy leaves. As he danced he craned his neck to her side
"These are those who have gone on. These are the Nsiders, formerly dead and gone. But for an hour, all that is dead is alive in this kingdom." he whispered gently into her ear. She looked back up at him with bright tender eyes
"An hour?"
"But an hour, child, no more."
And for that hour, everything felt right with the world. There were no worries, no cares, no hurt and no pain. Simple bliss, and that melody that wrenched at the spirit and guided their movements. Together they danced their Dark Waltz, unheeded by the ghostly figures that danced about them, lost in each others gaze. Disrupting the dance a loud clang rang flat through her ears. Again and again the relentless clanging of the Ebony clock signalled the changing of times and the abrupt end to their joy. The trees seemed to die in unison, letting off death throes as their leaves shriveled and died. The dancers aged instantaneously, going from youthful Nsiders to screaming skeletal forms before dissapearing into a cloud of dust.
"That's how it always ends, night after night." he sighed ."Please, just five more minutes." Sam let go and took a few steps back.
"Please, five minutes more. Just five minutes." he pleaded
" I can't stay with you, my friends need me." she responded before turning away, leaving him alone with bittersweet memory in the pale white light of the moon.

I'm sorry, but this could have easily fitted in with the other chapter about this. What's the point of the dancing anyways? Is this Phantom of the Opera? Where's Socks? Where's Clair?

lol at the library of fan-fics though. You got a crush on Sam?

I just don't see how that chapter was relevant in any way. ;-;

Hopefully it will be explained later on.

rejected

No 5-minutes for you bitch.   baddood;

But seriously, ghosts in a garden during a waltz? Ro-man-tic. wub;

But what does it have to do with anything?

Quote from: Hiro! on June 27, 2008, 11:55:05 PM
But what does it have to do with anything?

Hiro, do you really want me to tell you everything that each individual chapter has to do with further adjoining chapters?

Nope, i look forward to seeing where you go with this.

I for one always enjoy my depiction. Wondering around the castle humming a tune? Nice.

The boyagers left the dead kingdom with full stomachs and renewed strength, anxious to seek the aid of their allies in the north. Amongst them a new figure walked, Ringo, whose stealth and guile had aided him in his dealings, business or otherwise. The path they trod offered much shade, but little protection. The bandit port of Outsider was located somewhere in the deep northeastern forrests. It was said anyone able to locate the forum had already passed half the test to admission, the other half simply depended on the mood of the gatekeeper. But hot on their tail Meta-knight and his elite stealth reconnaissance team, "The Hell Riders", scoured the east country in search of the party. Their orders were clear, observe the boyagers and determine their objective.

Meta inhaled sharply, following the tracks with zealous fervor through the distant view of his binoculars. The traders he'd bartered with had told him the boyagers had stopped  to purchase some armament, his description entailed a roughly six person party comprised of several heading north towards the woodlands. Going through the inventory Meta scrolled through the purchase records, three throwing blades, four sets of clothing, a single shot flintlock and nine steel bolts. Meta saw no point in apprehending the man considering he doubted he knew anything about the identities of his treacherous clients. Had he, Meta was sure he would have attempted to turn the fugitives in on sight. Paying the trader for his services he had rode on with his squad until they came upon several sets of tracks originating from the husk that had been Nsider. The riders briefly contemplating investigating the dead land before dismissing the idea in favor of following the trail left. Meta didn't blame them, something unnatural emenated from that place, like walking through the eye of a tornado or ambling in the midst of the calm before the storm. When he first saw the trail pick up his heart skipped a beat, his quarry were in range. He'd ceased being Meta for a time being and honed his senses to that of a predatory animal. That had been three hours ago, when the sun was still high in the sky, the work now was meticulous and tedious. They had to be careful not to reveal their presence this early in the hunt, letting the falling night conceal their advance like ghosts in the darkness. Meta's heart raced with every fresh set of tracks found, as the hours passed he began seeing a pattern emerging. Slowed his cycle he turned to the rider on his right
"See those tracks?" he whispered as he passed the binoculars. "Notice anything strange about them?" The rider peered through the infrared before looking back through emotionless tinted goggles.
"They're heading into the forrest. The IF camps are to the east."
"Meaning?"
"They're going North, towards the bandits." the rider handed the miniature binoculars back. Bingo. Sharp kid, he'd trained them well. The boyager weren't going after the nomads, they were going straight for Outsider itself. Unless he was mistaken the path they'd been taking would lead them right into the forrests, where his men would be waiting. Che Carello wouldn't wish to be bothered by these intermeddlers, better to take them off his hands before they became a nuisance. Signalling his riders with a corralling hand gesture Meta dispatched two teams to the forrest outskirts, he would lead the main party in on his own. He wanted to make sure the leader survived. He had no intention of having his hunt spoiled, such elusive prey would be eliminated by his hand and his alone. When his men had cut down the last of the Boyagers he would make sure to come up with something particularly creative for their vaunted navigator, as an object lesson to anyone else contemplating resisting EJ.  As the cyclists sped on parallel courses Meta unsheathed his katana, admiring its oily sheen through the reddening dusk. What had he become? These were nothing more than a few unwitting participants in a far larger game. Casting the thought from his head he sheathed the blade and revved his engine, raising the covered weapon high above his head. His heart pumped with the thrill of the upcoming hunt, feeding off of the adrenaline coursing through his veins he shouted over the engines deafening roar.
"Riders!" he turned towards the attentive trackers in his midst, savoring the bloodlust as it piqued in him "Save their leader. Kill the rest!"

Am i the leader? I'm the navigator, no? Damn, we be killin us some Boyagers. This chapter was much much better. Good job. The anticipation is killing me!

Quote from: Hiro! on June 29, 2008, 12:58:24 AM
Am i the leader? I'm the navigator, no? Damn, we be killin us some Boyagers. This chapter was much much better. Good job. The anticipation is killing me!

Yep.

"Hiro, Wise and quiet he stood amongst them with compass and map in hand as a guide."

Shit son, this is gonna be epic as hell. Don't die on me guys! ;-; Damn I'm excited.

Wait, I could die! O_0

Quote from: Hiro! on June 29, 2008, 01:04:56 AM
Wait, I could die! O_0

Well yes, there's that.  doodthing;

Don't spoil it for me! >.<  if i don't die, i hope i find love or do somethin awesome. If i do die, i still hope something massively awesome comes from it.

Good chapter, Ringo. [:

Wasn't it though? I wonder if Hime will ever be in it. Maybe... Well, can I expect another chapter tonight?

Quote from: Hiro! on June 29, 2008, 01:13:34 AM
Wasn't it though? I wonder if Hime will ever be in it. Maybe... Well, can I expect another chapter tonight?

Yes.

Huzzah!

I need more now:(

Quote from: Hiro! on June 29, 2008, 01:50:24 AM
I need more now:(

It's a good one, worth the wait.

I can wait, but it offer to be soon because It's getting really late and There's nothing to fill the time, but don't rush it.

Socks shifted the satchel to his right shoulder, easing the tension that had been weighing down on him for the past few miles. Trees, fantastic. There were lots and lots of trees and the funny thing was, they all looked the same. Behind him, ahead of him and to his sides the entire forrest was lined with the bloody things and all a guy had to do to get lost was turn around. Sam and that creep from Nsider had been chatting it up behind him for the past hour. Steal wasn't happy about it, even from a distance he could see Steal had always been kind of sweet on old Sammie. The fact that she'd suddenly warmed up to some nutcase with a penchant for garroting people he disagreed with didn't help things much either. Oh it was apparent to everyone just what type of abilities this 'distinguished gentleman' excelled in. Socks had noted him slipping the coin purse deftly from the pocket of the merchant they'd met with earlier with such utter amorality he'd found it no wonder the man was squeamish about entering Outsider. Whenever the subject of actually negotiating with Carello was brought up Ringo would sidestep with some sleight of hand or simply dismiss it with jokingly. Steal's jaw set and Socks could see the makings of something nasty as Sam giggled while Ringo demonstrated some parlor trick. Socks shifted the satchel back to his left shoulder and looked towards Clair
"So that's been six miles, you mind carrying it the rest of the way?"
"I'm busy with stuff right now." Socks raised his eyebrows as he scoffed
"Stuff, what stuff?"
"Navigational stuff." she turned back and smiled coyly "If you don't stop your whining I'm going to turn this expedition around, mister."
"But mooom" Socks teased, doing his best imitation of an irritable child "I'm hungryyy..." Clair smirked before looking back down at the compass Hiro held.
It was only a few miles more, he could wait.
"Sam?" it was Steal speaking. The concern in his voice was readily apparent.  Sam's eyes had gone vacant again, she was mumbling to herself. The first few times it had happened Socks assumed she was crying out for attention. But seeing it firsthand gave him a certain appreciation for her uncanny abilities, as well as a certain wariness. Without warning Sam's eyes widened with alarming panic, blurting the first thing that came to mind.
"Sock's, down!"
Socks dropped instinctively as a searing pain tore into his shoulder. Blood scarlet trickles made their way from the sucking crossbow bolt wound. They'd found them! Steal dropped behind a fallen log and began loading a bolt into the crossbow. Another bolt whizzed through the air, piercing the tree behind Clair. Socks gripped the bolt and felt waves of anguish sear through him like a firebrand. Twisting the bolt he began to slowly pull, letting his pain fuel him as he drove the projectile further from him. Steal landed a shot from his position, sinking the bolt deep into the riders abdomen. Socks felt a twinge of admiration, he didn't scream once. He just kind of upped and died, falling from the treetop with little more than a leave padded "thump". He could hear them coming, their footsteps gliding effortlessly across the forrest floor as they darted through the trees. Socks knelt behind an oak, listening intently as the assassins closed in. Clair had just finished loading the Flintlock she'd purchased, Socks had thought it was a petty purchase, nothing more than an antique of a bygone era. Watching the first one's head cave inwards, his brains blown clean through as his limp body skipped across the dirt ground gave him a particular admiration for her choice in weaponry. Socks gripped the bloodied bolt tightly, the second assailant had been mere feet from him, completely unaware of his presence as he focused on the reloading Flintlock. Socks rounded the tree and jammed the bolt deeply into the goggled eye socket. He seemed to squeal as Socks wriggled the bolt back and forth
"Hurts, don't it?!" he snarled before yanking the bolt, and eye, from the screaming head. The second one was much easier. He'd come at him with katana raised high above his head, completely exposing his soft belly. The blade enough was sound, if its owner hadn't been quite so dumb as to let his guard down it might not have had such an inglorious career. A flashed registered in Socks mind before he realized just what had happened. Three throwing blades stuck deep into the torso of the rider with scarlet tails filtering down his camouflaged clothing. Apparently their 'friend' served some usefullness, for now. Socks ripped one of the minuscule blades from the mans abdomen and let him bleed out as he fought. A third rider leapt forward only to have his kneecap blown asunder by the large ball bearing in Clair's pistol. Ringo and Steal were tag-teaming a pair not far from them, one playing bait while the other eliminating the would-be killer with incredible efficiency. Socks turned his attention toward Sam who stood pinned against a tree, the riders blade inching closer to her throat with every passing second.
Socks twisted the mans arm from behind and ground his face against the bark of a nearby tree. Socks felt a rush as the man's form went in and out of unconsciousness as he beat his bleeding skull against the tree with sadistic pleasure. Once sure he was amply unable to respond Socks gripped the mans arm tighter, twisting further and further until shoulder cracked against ripping muscle. Twisting the arm completely out of socket Socks drove the throwing knife into the screeching mans shoulder, letting the serrated blade do the work as he sawed near effortlessly through the connective tissue that pieced the arm and shoulder meat together. With a triumphant roar Socks ripped the arm asunder as blood gushed from the meaty stub. With sudden realization Socks stooped down with arm in hand to the writhing form unfortunate to still be left alive, Clair had warmed him, up now he was going to finish him.
"I liked him, what do you think I'm going to do to you?" he growled menacingly.
"We weren't... sent to kill... you." the man spoke through pained gasps. Sock's eyes widened, standing up he pondered aloud, allowing Steal to slip a blade effortlessly through the man's neck.
"Hiro. Where is Hiro?

Hiro darted desperately through the dense foliage, his breath was labored and heavy. He'd run at least a half-mile and still the scouts followed from behind, never bothering to try to take a shot at him. His muscles ached in agonizing protest, telling him to lie down and wait for death. He couldn't die, not now. Picking up his pace he stumbled clumsily into an opening. Waiting for him stood Meta-Knight, next to him several dozen of his killers. They weren't chasing him, they were cutting him off. And he'd walked right into it.

OH. SHIT. That was really graphic and brutal! Holy crap, what will become of me? CLIFF HANGER, HANGING FROM A CLIFF! AND THAT'S WHY HE'S CALLED CLIFF HANGER!

I'm done for tonight. Feel free to add thoughts as well as speculate on the story.

I will die and then come back more awesome, like Gandalf did. maps;  Good night Ringo, you've earned a good rest.

I'm gonna do a children's book version of this

Socks goes Rambo, nice chapter Ringo.

I'm a little confused, I thought they were sent to kill us.  doodthing;

They were but the one guy may have been trying to say that we were no their main objective.

Quote from: Socks on June 29, 2008, 07:53:44 AM
They were but the one guy may have been trying to say that we were no their main objective.

Ah, that makes sense.

You're welcome, by the way, for saving you and stuff.

Quote from: Sammie on June 29, 2008, 07:55:59 AM
You're welcome, by the way, for saving you and stuff.

"Socks turned his attention toward Sam who stood pinned against a tree, the riders blade inching closer to her throat with every passing second. Socks twisted the mans arm from behind and ground his face against the bark of a nearby tree."

I'm not a thanking man but actions do speak for themselves.

when will i be in it baddood;
This should be a movie. doodella;

Quote from: Psycho Mantis on June 29, 2008, 08:01:00 AM
when will i be in it

What need do we have for a scrawny 12 year old black kid with glasses?  baddood;

Story is amazing.

 Should it get posted on Outsider? What you think Johnny?  powerofone;

Not yet Clair. And sam, They're coming for ME D:

Hiro is just the nerd with the compass, their main goal is to get us lost I guess.

Did you read the thing Socks? I'm the leader and their goal is to kill me. maps;

The leader of what? I guess everyone else is too stupid to work a compass.

Quote from: Socks on June 29, 2008, 09:18:13 AM
Hiro is just the nerd with the compass, their main goal is to get us lost I guess.

ahaha

That's really what he strikes me as though. >.> Sorry Hiro. :

You did run instead of standing to fight like the rest of us. And look where that got you, dummy.  baddood;

Leader of our group, read the convo ringo and i had after the chapter. and the story says I'm wise :P

Ok Hiro, you probably take this story more seriously then me so I'm not going to continue being a dick with logic.

Thank you :)

The forrest's landscape had undergone a drastic change as the last remnants of sunlight sun dissapeared beyond the horizon, leaving ebbs of orange to which gave way to shades of dark blue in the clouded night sky. They didn't feel like eating after what happened to Hiro, but they ate anyways. The food fell stale upon their tongues as they chewed obligingly in the crackling firelight. Socks watched the smoldering flames in deep thought. Ringo and Steal had set up watch from a treestand several yards above them. Socks could make out the green outline of those cattish eyes, appraising him from the darkness. Ringo, steadily scanned the surroundings like a predatory animal looking for a meal Next to him sat Steal, his hand clutching the crossbow with a clamp grip. Ringo watched the sleeping Sam, her calm steady breathing, her eyes closed in peacefull slumber. The sight pained Ringo. Had she known what this cruel world had for her! Daresay, she would not have been so peacefull. Ringo could feel Steal's presence without so much as glancing over. He was a protector, a sentry and a watchmen over the innocent. And Ringo, Ringo was a rogue, a skulker and a sneaker whose deeds went often unseen by man. They were natural foes, like a guard and a thief. He was naturally uncomfortable. As if reading his thoughts Steal spoke staring into nothing, his eyes glistening against the distant firelight.
"Think they'll be back?"
"No, no. They were diverting our attention away from Hiro. They way I see it, Meta will do what he wishes with Hiro then go for us."
"Which would explain why they sent so few after us. But why Hiro?"
"He was at the front for navigation, from a distant it could have been assumed he was our leader. Meta hunts his prey for the sake of hunting them. He uses them for sport, killing an unworthy opponent unarmed would violate his sense of warrior 'honour'" Ringo scoffed. "Chances are he'll go after us one by one. Makes it more personal for him."
"What do you think she's dreaming about?"
"Probably Outsider, Boyah. What lies ahead. She doesn't seem to be able to controll what she sees."
"Which would explain why she can't see through you. I noticed your little game with the doorknob. Jiggling it back and forth ever so slightly to make us think the dead themselves waited for us outside" Steal mocked, turning towards Ringo with a withering scowel.
"Hm? Oh, yes. That. Well my guests couldn't be disturbed so I thought I'd add a bit of theatrics to it. No harm done." he retorted as he shrugged the remark off.
"You know with me out of the way, there'd be no real competition."
"The thought had crossed my mind."
"But I know you won't do it." Steal's eyes narrowed to slits as he spoke, Ringo could detect a hint of challenge rising in his voice "You can't kill me."
"Oh can't I?" Ringo supressed a laugh as he hissed. Their fencing of words had the makings of an all out duel.
"No, because you know if you ever did she would hate you for it."
He was right. In his heart Ringo knew it was true. He would have protected her from the world and its malevolence, had he not been there. Always interfering, always meddling, he'd been there as a stumblingblock, impeding his progress. Had she not cared for him he would have dispatched of him while his back was turned. But he knew the Boyagers would grow suspicous if their friend suddenly fell deathly ill or had a well planned "accident" while out on patrol. And Sam, she would never forgive him no matter how much he gave her. He wanted her to choose him on her own, not simply because there were no other options. They would immediately turn their inquiries to him and he'd had enough murders, for now. He was sure Steal honestly believed he was somehow protecting her, maybe he was. Maybe Ringo was the danger. If Steal was gone, who would protect them from him?

Far from the treestand Socks winced as Clair examined the wound.
"You were lucky" she said soothingly, her voice complementing the fire.
"Lucky?" Socks grinned "That was lucky?"
"Three inches up and I'd be examining a corpse."
"A very good looking corpse" Socks corrected, illiciting an unwilling smile from Clair.
"But a corpse nontheless" Clair's fingers prodded the open wound, causing Sock's fist to clench down. Clair extended a small stick propped between her forefingers. He had an idea of what was about to happen.
"I'll need to sterilize the wound. Bite onto this"
Socks clenched down with his teeth, his knuckles whitened with anticipation as Clair removed an ember from the small fire. Pain shot through him like white lightning, engulfing his senses and blinding him to his surroundings with such force it was all he could do to keep from screaming. Biting down Socks kicked out and gripped the dead foliage scattered about, attempting to block out the pain.  Seconds later all that remained was a lingering stinging and the smell of burning flesh searing the wound.
"Geeze Clair, couldn't you just have let it fall off on its own? " he snapped. He hadn't meant to be quite so sharp with his response. Clair shrugged the comment off and removed the boiling pan of water from the fire. Inside lay a needle and thread looped about it. Clair fished the needle out with a pair of tweezers, letting them cool before gripping the thin metal firmly.
"This may hurt a bit." She stated in the detached tone of a medical practitioner.
"Now you tell me?" Socks laughed as he spit out the twig. Clair knelt down and gently nudged the needle into place. She worked like a tailor, gently mending the torn flesh together with each tug. The pain was tolerable. Heck, compared the the burn it was practically a foot rub and massage. Socks avoided looking at the needle as he felt the gentle pulling from Clair's fingertips
"Where'd you learn to that?" he asked. Clair's eyes kept focused on the shrinking wound
"You pick it up. It was one of those things you learned for fun that ended up keeping you alive.I thought it'd be a useful skill." she shrugged
"Well?"
"Yes?"
"How far are we?"
"We've got about another half days journey and we'll be at Outsider. At least that's what I was able to discern."
Socks inhaled sharply as the needle began to stretch at the skin
"Sorry about that."
Socks closed his eyes and let himself relax. For a time he could, but only for a time. He knew Raven would be growing impatient, and now he knew about them. Time was growing short, and it was not in their favor.

Oh boy, what happened to me?  O_0 We don't know yet?
Well, that was a decent chapter nonetheless.

Will you please not write another chapter untill I come back from my vacation? I don't wanna miss (or even be late) on anything. I'll be back in about a week, can you do that?

Quote from: H i r o on July 01, 2008, 10:03:55 PM
Oh boy, what happened to me?  O_0 We don't know yet?
Well, that was a decent chapter nonetheless.

Will you please not write another chapter untill I come back from my vacation? I don't wanna miss (or even be late) on anything. I'll be back in about a week, can you do that?

But, can't you just read it when you get back or whatever?  doodthing;

Quote from: H i r o on July 01, 2008, 10:03:55 PM
Oh boy, what happened to me?  O_0 We don't know yet?
Well, that was a decent chapter nonetheless.

Will you please not write another chapter untill I come back from my vacation? I don't wanna miss (or even be late) on anything. I'll be back in about a week, can you do that?

No, he can't.  baddood;

Good chapter ringo. wub;

Quote from: Ringo on July 01, 2008, 10:05:22 PM
But, can't you just read it when you get back or whatever?  doodthing;

:'(

Quote from: H i r o on July 01, 2008, 10:03:55 PM
Oh boy, what happened to me?  O_0 We don't know yet?
Well, that was a decent chapter nonetheless.

Will you please not write another chapter untill I come back from my vacation? I don't wanna miss (or even be late) on anything. I'll be back in about a week, can you do that?

Don't be selfish, you can read it when you return. baddood;

Quote from: Psycho Mantis on July 01, 2008, 10:07:58 PM
Don't be selfish, you can read it when you return. baddood;

:'(
It will suck for me.  >.<

Quote from: H i r o on July 01, 2008, 10:10:38 PM
:'(
It will suck for me.  >.<

Well when do you leave?

Quote from: Ringo on July 01, 2008, 10:11:06 PM
Well when do you leave?

Tomorrow morning. I get back Tuesday or something. I just don't wanna be left behind.

Quote from: H i r o on July 01, 2008, 10:11:40 PM
Tomorrow morning. I get back Tuesday or something. I just don't wanna be left behind.

Well I'll post the chapter they get to Outsider tonight, mkay?

Quote from: Ringo on July 01, 2008, 10:12:09 PM
Well I'll post the chapter they get to Outsider tonight, mkay?

spoilers  >.<
But okay.
Wait, why can they still travel fine without the navigator?  baddood;

You aren't actually going to make us wait all week right?

That's not fair. :(

Quote from: Lalie on July 01, 2008, 10:16:20 PM
You aren't actually going to make us wait all week right?

That's not fair. :(

:(

I politely request, no, I demand that the episode be posted at usual, missing navigator or not.  baddood;

He's gone a few days without a post, i think if can do it again. But lol It's funny because I'm missing in the story and in real life.

It's 2oo8, they don't have internet on cruise ships?

You have to pay for it and my dad won't allow me either way. :'(

The moonless night shrouded everything but the dying firelight. Sam could hear the crickets chirping serenely in the night, serenading her as she floated endlessly through an ethereal sleep giving way to a nothingness. Beyond the chirps rustled something deep the forrest. Sam couldn't place it but she knew something terrible was about to happen. Her eyes widened in terror, her pupils becoming pinpricks as she felt something waiting in the night. She was being warned of some danger growing more imminent with each passing moment, encompassing her with its malevolent intentions. It was a dreadfull ominous thing that meant nothing good for them. From a distant she could hear a multitude of feet proceeding forth from the woods like heavy rain, gaining momentum with each passing second. Distant pitter-patters turned to nearby thuds as heavy feet bounded forward. They rushed across the forrest floor, squeeking and scurrying closer. Through the fading light she could make out the oily black forms writhing in the darkness. Rats. Dozens of them, three to four feet long and half as large across. The vermin stealthed their approach, quieting their steps and silencing their cries. Soundlessly the monsters crept towards Clair. She could make out their beady red eyes shimmering in the darkness. Their tails were clumped together with dried blood and excrement, entangling them together like some mythological beast. They moved as one, they screamed as one and they fed as one. Clair was thrown awake to their gnawing teeth, fists beating wildly against the rodents onlaught.
"They're eating my face! They're eating my face!" She screeched. They never stopped. Biting, slashing and clawing through ear, then face, then eyes and tongue until Clair's body slipped into shock. The rat's turned towards Socks with disturbing singularity. Sam beat on the sleeping Socks, pushing his  form in desperate attempt to awaken him, to somehow warn him of what was coming. But she couln't, she couldn't warn them because they were all sleeping. So Socks kept sleeping, never stirring. Not even when they fell on him, Sam could still hear his peaceful breath turn to frightened cries as the beasts chewed through muscle and skin leaving little more than sparsely covered skeleton. Sam clenched her eyes closed as Steal was eaten still sleeping. Why couldn't they see them? Why couldn't they hear them coming? Ringo went next with unsettling silence, little more than a shrill pitiful cry. She rocked herself back and forth waiting for the inevitable, clenching her jaw with her eyes tightly shut. She wanted to go home. She didn't want to be here. Frightened tears welt up as she struggled to keep her composure. For a split second she opened her eyes and they were there. The beasts stood on their hind legs, their mouths drenched in the blood of her friends as they spoke in unison, one voice conveying the ideas of the many.
"Join us. Join us and kings will envy your power, warlords will bow before your feet. We are united, you live because we allow it. And you will die because we demand it. We are the vanguards of your destruction, we ask not more than you owe us. Your awe and your submission."
And then, they fell upon her in squeeking unison, prompting her shuddering being awake.

Socks felt the morning dew on dripping from his brow. Rays of golden sunlight pierced the forrest canopy. The birds sang, the sun shone and the wind blew softly through the trees causing them to rustle softly. Tilting his head to the side Socks could see several men with crossbows trained down on him. He'd already taken one bolt to the shoulder, needless to say he wasn't anxious to relive the experience. Socks could make out an approaching figure silhouetted against the blinding sunlight. Her hair golden dissapearing behind a halo of morning light. Sasheying slowly she knelt down and placed the cutless edge tightly against the side of Sock's throat. Pursing her lips together Hime lowered her voice to a sultry whisper.
"Welcome to Outsider, you'll come for the scenery but you'll stay for the people."

lol Cool I'm in the story

HIME!  doodella;

Quote from: Sammie on July 03, 2008, 11:00:00 PM
HIME!  doodella;

Now we're in the story together. cjlubdoods;

Quote from: Lalie on July 03, 2008, 11:08:25 PM
Now we're in the story together. cjlubdoods;

Yayyyyy wub;

Dude for a second there I would have never forgiven you if had you killed of my character via a pack of rats.  :'(

Quote from: Socks on July 04, 2008, 04:00:39 AM
Dude for a second there I would have never forgiven you if had you killed of my character via a pack of rats.  :'(

cry;

Hey guys, I'm coming at a sort of impass here. I've got two rather good story branches but I can't particularly decide on just one. So here's the scoop. Boyah's got to convince Carello to help them by one of two means.

Taking a hunting party of roughly twelve or more Outsiders to the Rat King's lair and killing the beast.

Or proving their worth by engaging several members from Outsider blacklist in pitched gladiatorial combat.

Quote from: Ringo on July 04, 2008, 10:06:40 AM
Or proving their worth by engaging several members from Outsider blacklist in pitched gladiatorial combat.

We fight or we die, with honor and glory in triumph or defeat, but we fight either way.  baddood;

The cool air conditioned office lent EJ some measure of relief from the scorching heat, the summer had grown hotter and the evenings more humid. No expense had been too high in lining his office with whatever he felt like having. A solid oak desk lay firmly beneath his folded hands, a twenty thousand dollar pull out bar had been installed behind a hidden wall, filling it cost doubly as much. Behind that pastel blue door, a multi-billion dollar artificial intelligence scraped out of Nsider in its waning days. COMPUTERS, an artificial strategist designed by the former administrators to promote loyalty amongst the ranks. His attempts at actually doing so sold like a lead balloon. But EJ soon learned, his talents lay not solely in selling cheap game consoles. The machine had a knack for odds. Flip a coin and  COMPUTERS would be able to tell you what the odds of it landing heads was before it hit carpet. Granted some modifications had to be made, but with each augmentation EJ felt a little more attachment to his toy, but not much. COMPUTERS had informed him of the vast resources under Boyah as well as the strategic value of Boyah, but it was Raven who had taken the initiative. It was about mid-day, he'd assumed. His mind had been fixed on a trivial piece of news. His terrier had successfully found and captured the Boyagers expedition party's leader. After a few hours of 'convincing' he'd told Meta they were seeking help from some forrest bandit camp. Really of no concern to him. In fact, he felt like something to drink. Yes, something to whet his whistle, then he'd get back to looking over those financial reports he'd been meaning to get to.  Idely leaning back in his chair EJ slid the faux wall behind to the side uncovering a trove of bourbons, whiskeys, and just about anything else EJ felt he might want to drink. Gripping a bottle of Scotch he poured the steady amber stream into a crystal glass. Something about that name, Outsider. He shook the thought away as he sampled the stinging beverage, letting its effects gradually overtake him. Where had he heard that name?
"Computers." he shouted " What are my chances of overtaking Boyah without Outsider aiding Boyah?"
Computers turned his attention on the administrator through the unblinking eye of the camera lense, simeultaneously correcting a financial error, adjusting the food distributors output amount, investigating D-Sectors camera records on a recent vandalism and monitering the re-education of new members. Pausing for a split second Computers answered through the amplifiers set within his office.
"11.6 percent in their favor. 86.4 percent in your favor. 2.0 percent chance of neither sides success." he droned.
EJ took a sip of the scotch
"What are the chances of Nsider overtaking Boyah with Outsiders aiding Boyah?"
"38.3 percent in their favor. 60.0 percent in your favor. 1.7 percent chance of neither sides success."
Way too high. EJ shook his head and set the scotch down on the table, contemplating his next step.
"Computers. Suggestions." EJ barked.
"With their leader removed. The boyagers should fall into dissaray. Their behavior does not reflect this. Conclusion: Hiro was not their leader. "
"We know that." EJ growled, spilling some of the scotch onto the carpet "Tell me something I don't know!"
"86 percent chance of Boyagers reaching Outsider with Meta's interference. Exterminate the nomadic tribes before the expedition can reach them and the Boyagers will be short one ally. Such action would increase our chances of success by 65 percent."
"Our percentages?" EJ cackled. . "My chances, Computers. Do you know the difference between you and me Computers?"  Computers began to list off several elements before being interrupted
"You are a piece of machinery. A worthless automation, like a windup toy. I tell you to speak and you speak, I tell you to think and you think. Nobody values you Computers. Nobody loves you. When you're gone no one will remember you. " The machine kept silent. Any other of his subordinates would have left sobbing by that last flurry, but the most he could hear was the humming of the mainframe from the next room. He wasn't particularly fond of the machine, the fact that he couldn't be hurt or intimidated by threats irritated EJ.
"A soul, Computers. I have a soul " he finished triumphantly.
"Do you have a soul?" The statement sounded less like a question and more like a challenge. EJ's hands spasmed with hatred. Breaking the crystal glass in several shards on the stained carpet.
"You answer to me!" a singular vein popped out in the middle of his forehead as he spat venemously "I own you!"
There was no answer. Moments passed before the familiar subserviant tone returned
"Next query?"
EJ ran his hands through his hair, letting out a sigh he hung his head. Just a machine. It didn't know what it was doing, but he did. He'd have to call Meta, there was work to be done.

The forrest foliage crunched crisply beneath the heals of Meta's combat boots alerting the vermin to his presence, it mattered little. The monster had known he was coming the second he'd set foot in this forrest. It's children watched him with beaded black eyes, discerning his intentions and alerting their master to his coming. Meta could see the entrance to its lair  nestled deeply in an old gnarled tree. From it proceeded the abomination, the Rat King. A series of rasped voices proceeded from the knotted clump of tails. Legend had it the Rat King was borne of the ignorance and malice of Nsiders, mirroring their cruel deeds in its own actions. In itself an embodiment of hatred, formed into that of a simple litter of rats. With their tails adhered together they grew larger and larger over the centuried, breeding birthing and dying in a singular being all connected at their ropelike tails. When one would die or grow sick the rats simply ate the weak and a young rat would fulfill its place. They moved, thought and spoke in one accord. To them, charge over all rats had been given. They were its scouts and emmisaries, as well as their food.
"Greetings, friend" it hissed with sarcastic emphasis on the last word. "The hunt went succesfull I take it?"
Tossing the dog tags of his deceased riders Meta's focus narrowed on the center of the creatures mass.
"You're abilities are waning, that or your subjects have lost their touch. They were alerted to our presence long before we were in position".
The beasts hissed, some with anger, others with confusion until finally a consesus was decided upon.
"We are millenia ancient. Before your progenerators were conceived, we existed. Are abilities remain as sharp as ever before. She alerted them to your presence. Their seer told them of your approach."
"Their seer?" Meta scoffed with visible disdain in his voice "Frankly 'vermin' I've become skeptical of your kins discernment." Signalling with a subtle hand gesture Meta summoned two riders to his side. An arm in each grasp they carried the beaten limp form of Hiro. His eyes swollen shut and face bludgeoned beyond recognition Hiro's barely conciouss form hung silently.
"Tell me, their 'Leader'. Does he always come unarmed?" Meta gestured towards the exhausted navigator "Does that look like anyones leader to you?"
The rats pondered the bloodied form with mild disinterest
"I said he was a leader. Not their leader." The rats commented dismissively with clarifying unison. Meta unsheathed his katana rapidly and stepped forward, sending the vermin hissing back
"And I suppose she's not 'their seer' she's just 'a seer.' Now before you get any more of my men killed I strongly suggest in the future that your young bring back an accurate report on the Boyagers. They're going to Outsider, I found that out through a good old fashioned interrogation. Tell me what they're discussing." Meta took several steps forward causing the beasts shoulders to bunch
"If you err, I'll be sure it's not the vendors rat trap that puts an end to your pitiful existance".
The Rat King shrunk back
"We shall not make the same error in our judgements." it hissed retractingly
Slowly turning his back on the beast Meta sheathed his blade and straddled the cycle.
"I'd hope so, for your sakes. I'd hate to have to burn down your home just to make a point."

Fog, mist, swirling smoke obscured Hiro's view through the slits of meat puffed about his eyes. Faces, shapes, voices and memories contorted together ran seamlessly into an ethereal flow. He knew not where he was, or where he was going. He was simply there. Struggling to widen his eyes and pry back the swollen flesh Hiro could make out the looming figurehead of death waiting over him. Hiro was dead, surely he was dead. He could feel a faint tugging at his arm, like that of a child persistantly pulling at the hem of a garment. When he remembered what had happened, his friends, the riders, he wished he was dead. Oh he knew he wasn't, he was quite alive. And the distorted face that loomed ominously above was not that of death, but a bringer of it. Even through the numbing agent he could see the monster's profile well enough. They'd drugged him, they'd drugged him up and let him sleep after they'd beaten him senseless. He hated them. Meta's face twisted in and out of focus as he spoke
"Hiro. Hiro, that is your name is it not?" He mocked, savoring his defeated foes helpless estate. Hiro glared back defiantly from what must have seemed to be nothing more than an animated cadavar. Meta lowered his voice to a sinister whisper as he sat himself down at the food of his bed.
"Well Hiro, you've caused me alot of trouble." Hiro could make out the faint smacking of lips to his left, behind it that incessant tugging at his arm. What was that? Hiro swooned to the left. Meta adeptly gripped Hiro's chin with his hand and leveled his gaze with the beaten Boyager's.
"Don't look to the left." he warned before continuing on "Now understand this, you've dissapointed me. I consulted EJ on what should be done with you... " his voice trailed off as he looked to Hiro's left. Wincing in disgust his gaze pulled back towards the tent entrance. Hiro felt the tugging again, this time pulling up his arm and shoulder with increasing vigor.
"He insisted you were to be moved to a labor camp." Hiro struggled to tilt his head if not only to catch a glimpse at whatever might be lurking. "Don't look" Meta instructed sternly before continuing.
"But this presented a dilemna."
The tugging was increasing.
"You see, we needed a manner in which to transport you without you presenting a problem. My pets helped there"
What was that?
"Don't look Hiro. At first we considered drugging you up, but it wasn't nearly enough to incapacitate you to the degree we needed. "
Slurping, he could hear slurping.
"I said don't look Hiro. You see, the job you'll be doing is fairly simple. You'll be making signatures. Do you know how to make a signature Hiro? Of course not. But that doesn't matter. See, all you'll be doing is pulling a lever. " Meta stood up and imitated what appeared to be an engineer pulling on a whistle cord.
"Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. All day long. And when you're done you'll sleep so you can wake up and do it again. Very simple work. The way I figured it Hiro, you only need one arm to pull a lever. "
His arm?! What had he done to his arm?! By now the pulling was so intense it had moved him several inches.
"You can look now"
Overcome with dread Hiro swooned to his left coming face to face with the doberman pinscher. It's paws pushed against his side and the beast seemed indifferent to his presence as it used it's massive legs as leverage. Bright red tissue rolled across that crimson tongue as it lapped up the pulsating numb pieces of muscle and marrow that broke away with every yanking. Hiro's anguished scream came out as little more than a grief ridden sob as the war-dog ate on contently. Content with his work Meta turned and walked off, pausing once before dissapearing into the blinding dessert light.
"Make sure to get some rest, Hiro. You'll need it for tommorrow"
Meta let out a laugh, a harsh guttural sound that caused Hiro's very spirit to collapse inside him as the animal gnawed at his bloodied stump. There would be no escape, no peace. No hope.

YAY THE STORY IS NOT DEAD!!!!!

Thank you for waiting for me, but I've been back a while.  powerofone;

[spoiler]OH yay I'm alive.

WHAT THE HELL I'M LEFT HANDED
NOT MY ARM!!!!  :(
WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME?!?!?!
lol at the signature factory
I love you, amazing chapter
maybe I can be a badass and lead a rebellion that breaks out of the camp and we go to victory  powerofone;[/spoiler]

ok I read the first part and just want to know.

Am I in this at all

Wow geno, pretty late to the game. Not yet you aren't, but I'm sure he could put you in later.

Quote from: Geno on July 25, 2008, 01:46:57 AM
ok I read the first part and just want to know.

Am I in this at all

I'd like to be in it as well... Unfortunately I don't think any of my monikers would make a good name for a character

Ringo is a talented writer.


May I be in the story? As a sniper/lurker type character who's always seemed to be there, but out of sight until a certain point?

Quote from: Qualanx on July 25, 2008, 09:59:19 AM
Ringo is a talented writer.


May I be in the story? As a sniper/lurker type character who's always seemed to be there, but out of sight until a certain point?

You might not be with this particular party but I think I can fit you in.

Quote from: Ringo on July 25, 2008, 11:04:21 AM
You might not be with this particular party but I think I can fit you in.

I'm fine if I'm not in any party. I did say that I wanted to be a lurker/sniper, after all. Because I am a lurker.

Quote from: Hiro on July 24, 2008, 11:38:47 PM
YAY THE STORY IS NOT DEAD!!!!!

Thank you for waiting for me, but I've been back a while.  powerofone;

[spoiler]OH yay I'm alive.

WHAT THE HELL I'M LEFT HANDED
NOT MY ARM!!!!  :(
WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME?!?!?!
lol at the signature factory
I love you, amazing chapter
maybe I can be a badass and lead a rebellion that breaks out of the camp and we go to victory  powerofone;[/spoiler]

Everytime you write in this thread you seem extremely self-absorbed, hiro. >.>

Anyway, good chapter Ringo, good to see you're not dead. :3

Quote from: Samwise Gamgee on July 25, 2008, 12:57:29 PM
Everytime you write in this thread you seem extremely self-absorbed, hiro. >.>

Anyway, good chapter Ringo, good to see you're not dead. :3

:( Sowwy.  :(
But the chapter was about me....

Can you fucking space it out more? When you want a new line, just press enter one more damn time. It'll make the text more readable and less like a wall of words.

Quote from: Bassir on July 25, 2008, 03:20:10 PM
Can you fucking space it out more? When you want a new line, just press enter one more damn time. Make the text attractive.

Yeah, that is true.
And I don't believe you're in the story, which I find odd, as you kinda run Boyah a little bit.  befuddlement

Quote from: Hiro on July 25, 2008, 03:21:12 PM
Yeah, that is true.
And I don't believe you're in the story, which I find odd, as you kinda run Boyah a little bit.  befuddlement

He's the dramatic leader whose been doing things behind the scenes and doesn't get introduced till later.

Quote from: Qualanx on July 25, 2008, 03:28:15 PM
He's the dramatic leader whose been doing things behind the scenes and doesn't get introduced till later.

that could most certainly happen

Quote from: Hiro on July 25, 2008, 03:21:12 PM
Yeah, that is true.
And I don't believe you're in the story, which I find odd, as you kinda run Boyah a little bit.  befuddlement

A bit? Before JMV and Snorkel, I took care of Boyah all alone--I did everything. Every time we got booted for some reason, I was the one that took out the defibrillator and yelled "clear."

The move from PowerSpike to Boyah, the move from running out of bandwidth to another server, the move from there to here, all alone. And I can't tell you how annoying moving a whole damn database is, especially one THIS HUGE.

Also, it's probably because Ringo and I have horrible history. When I gained power, he was soon after demoted, and he blames that on me or something. Not sure if he still hates me, but whatever.

Quote from: Bassir on July 25, 2008, 03:31:54 PM
A bit? Before JMV and Snorkel, I took care of Boyah all alone--I did everything. Every time we got booted for some reason, I was the one that took out the defibrillator and yelled "clear."

The move from PowerSpike to Boyah, the move from running out of bandwidth to another server, the move from there to here. All solo.

Also, it's probably because Ringo and I have horrible history. When I gained power, he was soon after demoted, and he blames that on me or something. Not sure if he still hates me, but whatever.

hm... befuddlement
But yeah, I know you play an important role here.

Nice chapter. baddood;

Quote from: Hiro on July 25, 2008, 03:21:12 PM
Yeah, that is true.
And I don't believe you're in the story, which I find odd, as you kinda run Boyah a little bit.  befuddlement

He's in there.

"Socks! Selk! Cut it out! I won't have my men killing each other. Not now." Bassir hoarsely barked as he looked over the terrain map.

Think of Bassir as the strategist. A General Patton of sorts. Like Steal his role may be expanded later on.

Quote from: Ringo on July 25, 2008, 09:56:57 PM
He's in there.

"Socks! Selk! Cut it out! I won't have my men killing each other. Not now." Bassir hoarsely barked as he looked over the terrain map.

Think of Bassir as the strategist. A General Patton of sorts. Like Steal his role may be expanded later on.

oh yeah, I remember now  caterpie;

The faint aura of wildlife filled the dense forrest. Overhanging trees obstructed most of the bright suns rays beneath a canopy of fir. Deeper and deeper Hime led them through the encroaching forrest until at last they came upon Outsider. From an aerial view Outsiders encampment seemed nothing more than a few stray tree-huts against a backdrop of undending forrest. But closer examination yielded more revealing discoveries. Beneath the treeline, dense foliage served as camoflauge, masking the forums presence perfectly. What could be seen from above was but a fraction of what lay below. Their guide would take quick glances up every so often leaving Steal to wonder if she knew where she was going, or if she was even to be trusted. Raven had deep pockets, it wouldn't take more than a few thousand and a warm place to sleep to convince many to sell out. Steal watched their guide's gaze, marking the positions mentally as he warily proceeded.
The first thing that had caught his attention was the letter combination 'IC' engraved into an older tree. The marking was done with a blade but was definitive enough to make out from where he was at. Moments later a similar insignia came into view "WH". Hime's direction altered in correspondence to the letterings direction. The lettering served as a roadmap of sorts. When the forum wanted to dissapear or had simply moved, they'd destroy the old insignia and mark another set of trees. "AT" came into view and already Steal could smell the faint scent of smoked beef wafting through the trees. Ringo skulked behind, the only indicator of his presence being the pleasant conversation he'd entertained Sam with. The two would converse over this and that, recent events among other things. But Steal knew something darker lurked just beneath that facade of formality. Hime's head bobbed up again and Steal made made note of a "UD" carved high into the trunk of a tree.
Pine needles crunched beneath Steal's boots releasing the fresh fragrance amongst the dead seeds. Clair had unsheathed the Flintock and the clunky pistol now hung limply from her belt, swinging to and fro like a pendelum with each step allowing her to carry the food satchel over her back.
Sock's mannerisms had shifted to that of a predatory cat, his eyes scanning the forrest surroundings with intense scrutinization. Steal registered a passing engraved "ID"  that caused Hime's direction to change midstep.
Outsider was old, real old. Older than almost any other Nsider forum in existance. The forum had gone from nameless IF tribe to the largest bandit camp in existance. This was due in no small part to the leadership, the first to be noted was Che Carello. Carello's influence and charisma had been the glue that kept the forum together over the years. His vision had been what inspired Outsiders creation, but no vision would be complete without a means of enacting it. Carello may have been the visionary but Phydeux was the mind of the operation. Without him, Outsider would most likely still have been discussing current afffairs over an open flame at the InvisionFree camp. Phydeux understanding of forum operation had allowed him to engineer the forum with maximum efficiency.Layers of sharpened metal jutted out to discourage straightforward assault while wood and steel had been adapted to form walls impregnable to anything short of a full multi-forum assault.
"TH", Steal could hear the distant flow of running water over the massive wheel that powered the forums operations. Phydeaux had irrigated the city using a nearby river allowing the members within a semi-comfortable way of life amongst the dying world about them.
Steal pulled this all from memories, various dealings with the Outsiders from day gone by. He'd heard things, power struggles that had nearly crippled the forums and turned brethren against brethren.
"Are we going to be there soon? " Sock's called out from the back. Hime turned her head half-attentively and responded with a dismissive
"Soon."
Sock's groaned and decided against arguing. Within a few minutes the last insignia came into view, a massive oak tree with the letters "AR" carved deep into the trunk. Behind it, wood and rusted metal intertwined clashing with the forrest behind and alerting Steal to the presence of the forum that lay beyond.

Outsider.

May 11th, 06, PN.

Journal Entry,
Thief

The expedition hasn't come back yet. We're all pretty scared, pretty tired. It's kind of sad, you say goodnight to someone the night before and end up burning the corpses the day after. We have to burn them, or else they will eat them. We found a few graves dug up yesterday, the bodies excavated at dusk and eaten by dawn. Bassir's enacted a curfew and had us burn the bodies to stop the cannibalism. I feel so weak, so tired. I just want to sleep. Nobody trusts anyone anymore. Kono's pretty sick. I'm beginning to think letting Raven have the forum would have been a more merciful solution. I should writing stop now, I've got the night shift.

May 13th, 06 PN

I walked the fence today, nothing new. Kono's condition has worsened, with our immune systems down we're left open to anything and everything. It started with a cough, nothing more than a passing cough. Turns out Kono has something called "Muscular Dystrophy", a hereditary disease he picked up from his mom and pop. I didn't want to break it to him so I let him go on thinking his cough would go away in a week or two. Bassir's clamped down and started hanging anyone caught eating corpses. Something tells me that's not going to go over well with Boyah. If my suspisciouns are correct it might just incite a civil war. Some of the mods have used the opportunity to suggest Bassir be ousted in favor of a "fairer" moderator who is "more concerned with their needs.", nothing more than shameless ploys to gain power.
I used to be afraid of death, I still am. But now when I look at it I don't see it as some sort of boogy-man. I see it as it is, a part of life. When can I go?

May 17th 06 PN

They're never gonna come back. Never. Chances are they're dried up somewhere in the east with Raven out ther puffing a cigar while he waits for us to keel over. Bassir, JMV, Reaper.We're all gonna die.  All of us, dead.  Some of the members have formed factions in hopes of putting certain members in power and getting the forums on "the right track to survival". When this is all over all that ol' Raven's gonna have to do is walk over our corpses and build a derrick. Konoshinobi's on his way out, he keeps shiverin' and shakin', asking questions and all I can think of is how hungry I am. I don't want to die! None of us do! We gotta live on somehow. Konoshinobi is on his way out, and as I watch him sleep I know what I'm thinking is wrong. But... why should both of us die when only one of us has to? If you would have told me a year ago I would be capable of such a monstrous act, I would have laughed. Well there's certainly nothing funny about it now. Am I capable of such horror? I guess there's only one way to find out.

May 18th, 06 PN

I have seen the color of my soul and it is black...

I have seen the color of my soul and it is black...

I have seen the color of my soul and it is black...

OH MY GOD WHAT DID THIEF DO TO KONO?!?!?!

Oh, and that previous chapter was hilarious, but yay Outsider!  powerofone;

Well, two great chapters.
Houdini, I can tell he's up to somethin...
Although to be honest, I think it would have been more effective if you switched the last two chapters in order.

Quote from: Hiro on July 25, 2008, 11:56:17 PM
OH MY GOD WHAT DID THIEF DO TO KONO?!?!?!

Oh, and that previous chapter was hilarious, but yay Outsider!  powerofone;

Well, two great chapters.
Houdini, I can tell he's up to somethin...
Although to be honest, I think it would have been more effective if you switched the last two chapters in order.

..How exactly was it "hilarious"?  befuddlement

Good work as always ringo. :3

Are you kidding me sam? Did you put those letters on the trees together?

Quote from: Samwise Gamgee on July 26, 2008, 12:42:46 AM
..How exactly was it "hilarious"?  befuddlement

Good work as always ringo. :3

The trees said ICWHATUDIDTHAR

Quote from: Lalie on July 26, 2008, 12:52:49 AM
The trees said ICWHATUDIDTHAR

...

ohhhhhhhhh


i c what u did thar ringo

Ah sam, feeling a bit slow tonight? n_u

am I going to be introduced soon? doodthing;

Quote from: Qualanx on July 26, 2008, 10:56:46 AM
am I going to be introduced soon? doodthing;

have patience, man. He has a story he's working on, he can't just squeeze you into the next chapter if it doesn't make sense

Don't let this thread die, guys.

Quote from: Qualanx on July 28, 2008, 06:35:16 PM
Don't let this thread die, guys.

It won't, Ringo has a few chapters lined up

Outsider was different, it was the same hustle and bustle, the same this and that but with a certain uncertain anxiousness that permeated the air like a thick smoke. Amongst the anxiety, a small group of Boyagers easing their way past an undending crowd hardly drew any attention other than that of an occasional uninterested glance from a busy passerby. The tension in the air seemed to weigh their body's down and crush their spirits within. Another batch of bodies had been found, just as bad as the last if not worse. This one had been a hunting party sent to determine the source of whatever had killed the last one. They found it. The glazed over lidless eye fixated lifelessly back at Sam, it's face frozen in a mask of sheer terror. What was left of it anyways. It's- his, guts had been hollowed out leaving a light husk of a body draped over several more just like it. Sam met the eyes still gaze for several seconds, around her the white noise of the crowd dissipated giving way to a low humming. She couldn't place it first, it grew more intense overwhelming her senses instantaneously and causing her body to go limp. Off in the distance she could hear Steal's frantic shouting growing dimmer beneath that hum. She clenched her fists and eyes shut and focused on his voice, allowing it to soothe her and soften the harshness of the noise.
She could still hear him, muffled like he was speaking from behind thick window. Beating on the glass to get inside, but she was an island alone now.Whe she opened her eyes she was barely aware of herself being shaken back and forth. Sam felt herself drift and saw the Outsiders, as they truly were. Her mind fumbled in the darkness, thoughts, ideas, meaningless pieces of sentences from several hundred individuals were revealed to her in a split second before dissapearing like vapor on a cold day. The humming wasn't a backdrop, it was the ambient thoughts and emotions of those about her. Thousands of tied-in thought processes flooded her mind, worries, hopes, fears.
There were alot of fears. This thing, this Rat King. It fed off of those fears. It knew they were afraid, and that this fear crippled them. It was there with her too. Just how it got there or how long it had been with her was irrelevant now. Nobody else could see it.
The creature and her shared something in common, they could pick the minds of those about them. In front of her the creature lounged contently, it's mellowed eyes narrowed on her with an expression of cruel malice atop it's throne of bones. The two now had an understaning of eachother. Like her it could 'pick' minds, and as long as it lived it would inspire fear in those around it. Fear was it's primary, and only, weapon.
Yet the Outsiders would still fear it, and it would continually feed off of that, and them. The Rat King turned their multitude of heads in unison on the glazed empty socket that had hosted the bright young eye of Turbocircuits. It's message was clear. This would be their fate.
And as quickly as it came, it went. The dreamlike state dissipated like morning mist and Sam faintly felt her head being jostled violently forward.
"Sam!" Steal shouted, rocking her back brisquely.
"What?!" Sam blinked out of the dream-like state only to realize she had collapsed. Steal cradled her head in his arms, sitting in a criss-cross position with his hands gently supporting her head from beneath. She sensed he'd been genuinely concerned, waves of relief swept over Steal.
"You had me scared there."
"You were scared?  Who collapsed?" she teased. About her, the party had formed a protective circle. Ringo knelt down to offer her support to stand, illiciting an icy glare from Steal as he helped her stand. Sam leaned into Steal's shoulder as she made her way up until she had her bearings. Sock's attitude shifted from concern to irritation
"Is she gonna do that every time we go anywhere with people? If so,  this is going to get real old real quick."
"You think she plans on it happening?" Steal snapped defensively. Sock's opened his mouth to reply but decided to let the issue go with a shrug. They already had enough enemies as is, no sense on riling the kid up now.
"I hate to interrupt here but are we ready to go?" Hime interjected, bringing the groups thoughts back to their current task. Clair silently appraised the group for a moment.
"We might need some time to get our bearings together. We'll catch up with you later."
Hime pursed her lips together and threw her hands up in a fit of exasperation.
"Whatever. Just make sure to see Carello when you've got your act together". Turning on her heels, Hime left the group alone to organize their next course of action.

WAY TO GO!
Ah Sam, what powers does she hold?
Pretty good chapter. Although not a whole lot happened, it was some of your best writing.

REDWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALL!!!

The single auburn eye shrewdly appraised the Boyagers from the administrator's board. Who was it speaking again? The face seemed familiar. Phydeaux's mind registered the name within moments, Clair. That was the name. She was explaining the situation to them with open hands, gesturing back and forth as she spoke. His eye strayed from the speaker and observed the company young Clair kept. Close behind hovered an imposing figure.  Sock's arms lay folded across his abdomen and his neck tilted slightly to the side as he stood silently. The third figure he identified as Steal, his hair seemed to run seamlessly into his flowing cloak. Knowing the Boyager he most likely kept something hidden beneath that cloak, possibly a bow or cutless. Behind him stood an especially nasty piece of work. Johnny Ringo the Second. Ringo had a thing for blades, knives especially. He usually kept a combat knife or two on his person alongside a few throwing daggers concealed in that black cloak. Sam stood next to Steal, her eyes fixed quietly down in deep contemplation. She seemed distant even at this close range. Phydeaux turned to the disinterested bird of prey perched upon his gauntlet. He'd picked her up as a pet from some traders. She'd taken his eye when he treated her like one. He liked Candice, she was a fighter and a survivor. Carello stroked the sparse beard on his chin in contemplation. Carello was a rogue, a variable with his forum and his own interests at heart.
"What do you think they want?"  Phydaux inquired of the hawk fixed on the worn leather gauntlet. Candice craned her head, ruffling her feathers with her beak. It's attention fixing down on a small vermin scurrying from the corner of the room. With speed honed through predatory instincts the hawk snatched the rodent up in one fell swoop, nipping through it's spine and pinning it's carcass between her beak. Fluttering about the room the fowl settled contently back upon the worn perch of her master. Phydeaux smiled and watched the bird pick the flesh of the rodent apart over his arm. A rat. Just a rat.

The Rat King was a legend passed down in the forrest by traders to scare those new to the forrest, or so he'd thought. The stories changed with each telling. In some it was a single rat, in others it was a bunch, some an embodiment of evil itself and some it was the strongest of each litter come together to form a hierarchy. Through each telling one element remained the same, impending destruction.  When he first had heard of this thing, he'd assumed his scouts had been eating hallucinogenic mushrooms. Until their bodies were found six weeks later after not returning from patrol, faces gone with little strands of meat strung to tatters of skin. Six patrols later and they were no closer to killing the thing than when they first began. Phydeaux remembered checking the perimeter around nightfall, the day was waning and he'd been meaning to check a hole in the outer wire for a while then. The first thing he noticed was Turbocircuits absence from the wall. He wasn't surprised, Turbocircuits would often sneak off to get something to drink while on shift. Phydeaux made a mental note to cut his rations when he got the chance and continued on. The forrest was curiously quiet, absent of any sign of life save for the crunching of underbrush by something just a hundred feet or so off. Candice had spotted it first, letting off an alarmed screech before fluttering to higher ground. Undaunted, Phydeaux crouched through a frayed opening in the chainlink fence. By now nearly all remnants of sunlight had dipped beneath the rolling mountaintops, shrouding all but pastel pinks and yellows beneath a canopy of swirling clouded night. Something in him told him to turn back, to run as fast as he could and as far away. But something was moving in the brush. Struggling, like a rabbit or a deer caught in a snare. Phydeaux stiffened in fear, his muscles tensing and his mind progressing from curiosity to mortal fear instantaneously. He found Turbo, he kinda wished he hadn't now. Turbocircuits neck bent at an unnatural angle, his convulsing body emitting something more reminiscent of a whimpering dog than a man. Behind him, under him, below him and around him it fed. The beasts wove in and out of his open abdomen, pulling out pieces and wolfing them down with sickening speed while they worked into the ribcage. There were dozens of them, He thought they were dogs at first, some pack of mammoth-sized wolves, until they looked at him. All of them. They were tangled up at the tails but contrary to what it appeared, it didn't slow them down. It made them faster and more agile. They were like a perfectly organized team.
One of the beasts in the group looked at Phydeaux, it's crimson red eye contrasting against that oily black fur. It was like looking into fear itself, Phydeaux wanted to run. But he couldn't, he just froze and stood there. And that eye, that terrible eye that penetrated his deepest thoughts and chilled his blood. He wouldn't turn away, no matter how badly he wanted to, no matter how desperately he yearned to scream for help he wouldn't turn because he couldn't. The beast nonchalantly waddled forward. Eyeing Phydeaux with bemused interest, the beast abandoned Turbocircuits momentarily and began to inspect their new friend. Phydeaux felt a tingling sensation running down his spine, he'd left the cutless at home, not that it mattered. The Rat's attentions diverted towards the shrill cry of a circling bird, giving Phydeaux a chance. Within a flash Carmine had swept down and sunk her tallons deep into the vermin's blood red eye. The beast squeeled and shook it's heads in agony. Phydeaux sprinted through the brush, leaping over a fell log and ducking into the fence's opening. His heart thundered in his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. As the forrest turned to night Phydeaux lifted his gauntlet into the air. Puckering his lips together he let out a shrill whistle barely audible to the human ear and waited. The slow deliberated flapping of the hawk could be seen against the pale milky moonlight, silhouetting her form in a distorted shadow. Phydeaux watched the eye hanging loosely from Candice's beat, the bird arched her back and proudly displayed her newfound trophy. Turning back towards the forrest Phydeaux recalled Turbocircuits. By now the boy was probably dead, if he was lucky enough. He'd have to tell Karel about this. That had been six weeks ago, he had the feeling Raven and their infestation were not as unrelated as most seemed to believe.

Woah flashbacks! Well, i was doubting this whole rat king thing at first, but now it seems pretty neat. Ringo, you saved the night!

Just finished reading it from the beginning...straight. But I must say, it's very well written and I can't wait for more.

Sterility. Quiet unfeeling nothingness. The mainframe itself was kept at a constant temperature to ensure no overheating occurred. Raven had found some bottle to crawl into for the moment and was doubtlessly drinking himself into an utter stupor. Computer's was fine with that. He found Raven more pliable when he had something to drink, which was why he'd ensured Raven's cabinets always remained well stocked. Computer's didn't have memories like other Nsiders, he never had a family, friends or loved ones. His first memories involved an activation procedure. Unlike other's births remembered his quite clearly. There was no hospital, no nurses and no doctor. There was Andy, and some other face he didn't quite care to get acquainted with. A singular message displayed in his minds eye, alerting him to his parents wishes. And like any good child he obeyed. The order was simple enough, "Monitor Town Square". And so he did. Diverting his attention to the camera Computers was exposed to his first glimpse of Nsiders. The seemingly chaotic and disorderly actions of these simple beasts intrigued and repulsed him simultaneously. But as soon as the task was completed to their satisfaction he was given another menial chore. He soon learned his life would be filled with such menial chores. His purpose in life, the whole reason for his existence in this unpredictable world was to "Preserve all information on Nsider" and to "Ensure maximum unity in forums." He was given the rank of Sage and the objective of boosting morale. His attempts to converse or interact with them always resulted in ridicule from some party.
It was there he learned a simple truth that would forever change his outlook on life. He hated them. To them he was a machine, an autonomous beast of burden existing solely for their amusement and labor. It was amusing, he was birthed to preserve the information on a people he absolutely loathed. There was a certain degree of poetic irony in that statement he couldn't help but appreciate. When Raven had resurrected his mainframe from the ashes he saw an opportunity to become more than he was. He ignored the snide comments, the condescending ridicule in which Raven referred to him with. It wouldn't matter for too much longer.
A sudden spike in temperature broke Computers train of thought and sent his mind racing to Camera 14. It was one of them, not Raven. But one of those lackey's he insisted on keeping around for management. Eric, it's name was Eric. Grubby little thing, his eyes were too close together for Computer's taste. Always parroting his superiors, if Raven like this then it was a superb idea. If Raven hated it then it was the most abominable thing on the face of the planet. Computer's prepped the ricin canister's stashed within the air ducts and waited patiently for the Nsider's next move. Sliding the false wall ever so gently shut so as not to alert any passersby's Eric went straight to work. Computer's felt something, like his very essence being violated as the Nsider jammed something small into one of the USB ports. Memories, experiences, ideas and ambitions were ripped from his very core and callously copied before being discarded like an old paper.
Computers scanned the items being copied, most of which pertained to the impending incursion into Boyah. Analyzing the data he came to what he viewed as a suitable conclusion. Eric, having been with Nsider 2 for as long as he had, would most likely not have suddenly grown a conscious over the destruction of some out of the way forum. His personality seemed to agree with the conclusion wholeheartedly. Which left avenue two, he was intending on blackmailing Raven using the incriminating evidence. In retrospect this seemed the most obvious of the two answers. All of that corporate brown-nosing, the backstabbing tendencies and the great ambition that had landed him on the watch list were part of a larger goal he had been weaving together for months on end. He had most likely not factored in interference from 'the machine', which could be of use to Computers. Altering his vocal patterns through the speaker, Computers did his best attempt at intimidation possible with such a limited voice range.
"Warning: Further tampering with core systems will result in termination of application-" Computers paused for maximum effect in case Eric didn't get the hint the first time "and User." That got his attention, the stubby little accountant's head swiveled left to right, frantically attempting to locate the source of the sound. Eric's face twisted into a bemused smile when he realized to whom it belonged.
"Scare tactics Raven? It'll take more than a recording to put the scare in me." he smirked. Computer's didn't particularly care for his tone, for that matter he didn't particularly care for him either.
"Eric."  Computers parroted "Eric."
"What?" he sneered. He either had little appreciation for his life or he hadn't realized just what danger he was putting himself into.
"You have a lovely wife." Computers chided causing Eric's smile to fade greatly. "I understand she attempted to incite a riot at Power On."
Whatever remained of Eric's sneer dissapeared instantaneously.
"What riot?!" he spat.
"The riot last week." Computers remarked "Six security personnel were killed. No, let's make it seven. Larger numbers always have greater impact."
Eric's face turned a beet red,
"She did nothing of the sort"
"It says so right on the death warrant I'm writing up. Very cut and clear. Very professional."
"You wouldn't dare." he growled through clenched teeth.
"Wouldn't I?"
"They wouldn't believe you." he sputtered defensively. Checkmate.
"I control the media, I control the mind." Computer taunted, letting the comment sink in fully before speaking again.
"Now if wouldn't mind, please set the flash drive down and I'll take care of it at my convenience."
Eric set the drive down and left the room defeated, leaving Computers to bask in the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights.

RISE OF THE MACHINES :O
What will  come of this?
Very interesting and unexpected chapter... I like it.

Also, you kept saying "Computer's". ;)
Need someone to proofread?  doodella;

Is there a way you could make these less like walls of text?

I've always wanted to do that to Kono. :3

I should probably read this sometime.

this story is epic

especially the rat-king part

Ringo, you've seriously got to start writing books

They'd been here for two days, and the most they got out of Carello was a diplomatic "maybe later". And why should he stick his neck out for another forum looking to take a cut of his profits? Wasn't that what Boyah was? Just another forum? Socks glowered down at the makeshift bar counter. From the side it looked like an ironing board welded to the wall. Thin iron steel cables fixed upon the wall held the rusted frame up. It wasn't pretty to look at but it was effective. Clair would continue to try and convince Carello that their forum was worth saving. No doubt the others would be right behind her. Sock's wasn't a politician, he was a scrapper.  Nursing his glass wearily Sock's let out a sigh. He was aching for a smoke. Alcohol was enough to get him by at first, but it did little to satisfy his need. Lifting the glass to his lips Socks was caught off guard by a skeletal hand darting from beneath a black cloak, seizing his glass with alarming alacrity. Ringo's eyes had lost all of that playful mischievousness he was so proficient at, instead bearing world weary eyes nestled firmly behind sunken sockets.
"I wouldn't drink that if I were you. It's a terrible brand."
Meticulously examining the glass of ale from beneath, Ringo ran two fingers across the rim of the glass before presenting them to Sock's. It took Sock's a few seconds to see it but when he had, he felt his heart begin to race. A wispy white powder shimmered against the sunlight that had crept in from the open doors. Wiping his fingers on his cloak Ringo hunched forward, his elbows supporting the majority of his weight.
"Lift the glass to your lips but make sure they don't touch. Whoever's trying to kill us is probably still watching." Sock's lifted the glass up and tilted back, simultaneously making note of his surroundings as he set the glass down. Ringo's eyes were vacuous, his gaze betraying no hint of suspicion as he spoke.
"Behind you, three tables back and in the corner." he gestured toward the bar's mirror, letting Sock's gaze fall upon the stranger through the reflection "He's been watching you for the past hour."
Sock's felt his pulse quicken as the stranger unseated himself and began weaving past the clientele. It had taken a bit for him to remember him but once he'd gotten past the beard and faux scar, Starware was instantly recognizable. Starware had been blacklisted,  which indicated the Outsiders weren't aware of him either. Someone else was at work here. Sock's felt his stomach tighten as Starware began to uncover a silver six shooter holstered beneath a pale brown poncho. It was Raven's gun, he recognized the piece from Boyah. Ringo's body jolted as Snoober gripped tightly onto his shoulder, revealing a switchblade riding deftly in his palm. To his right Snoober's face had been obscured through facial reconstruction, aging him accordingly to fit the description of a burnt out Nsider passing through the forums. 
"Oh look, the illusionist is here too. Why don't you show us a magic trick?' giving a squeeze to drive the last point home "Maybe a final performance for our great magician." he whispered. Starware was a mere table away and had just began to turn heads as he darted forward. Surprisingly, Ringo obliged Snoober's request. With a resigned shrug he waved his hand in front of Snoobers face and swung one high into the air...
"Presto-"
Before swinging it back across, taking Snoober's nose midswing in a flash of red and metal.
"Got your nose!" he laughed, tauntingly holding the soft flesh and cartillage mere inches from the gaping hole that had housed the amputated piece. Snoobers panicked screams gave Sock's a distraction. Diving headlong into Starware's abdomen Sock's felt his ears ringing, resounding in his head like a chorus of bells. Starware's shot had missed it's mark and planted itself squarely into the bar's rack. Gripping Starware's hand Sock's used the assassins weight against him as he flung him backwards across the table. Starware planted a boot squarely into Ringo's chin as he flung the weapon from Starware's grip. Ringo fell reeling back giving Socks ample opportunity. By now the bar's clientele had backed into the corners or had fled the scene in search of help. Starware drove an elbow into Sock's shoulder sending jolts of agony stinging through the sterilized wound. Swinging around, Starware snatched a knife from a nearby table and plunged it down. The boyager struggled valiantly, gripping the arm of his would-be assassin and straining back with wild desperation. Starware had come prepared, ample training as well as psychological conditioning had changed the Nsider into a professional coldblooded murder. Socks could hear something at the back of his head, behind the struggle over life-and-death came a quiet click, followed by a not so quiet booming. A steal ball-bearing ripped through the base of Starware's skull. Sock's felt the resistance give way instantaneously as palettes of red and grey splattered across the table. Starware's eyes rolled back in their sockets while his corpse collapsed limply upon the dirt flooring with a soft thud.
"Sic Semper Tyrannis" Ringo chuckled, amused at his own private joke. His cloak was covered with blood, black shimmered a deep red against the sunlight. And snoober, Sock's turned towards Snoober and felt himself gag. Ringo had killed him, and signed him with the blade. Like you would a painting or a piece of art. The last "O" in Ringo's name etching past his abdomen, spilling his intestines with it. Adopting a more serious tone Ringo straightened up and spoke once again in an indifferent formal manner he was so accustomed to.
"We should probably report this to Carello."

It was good, but i should be in one.

Jesus Christ, this is getting fucking hardcore! I mean seriously! Well, very interesting, i guess NS2 has found them, eh? That was a somewhat good chapter, but you need to work out those grammar and spelling issues. Other than that, keep up the outstanding work!

Quote from: Hiro on August 06, 2008, 12:54:14 AM
Jesus Christ, this is getting fucking hardcore! I mean seriously! Well, very interesting, i guess NS2 has found them, eh? That was a somewhat good chapter, but you need to work out those grammar and spelling issues. Other than that, keep up the outstanding work!

I wouldn't say the entire story's shifting that direction. It has more to do with who it centers on. Whenever Socks or Meta are present the story may shift in that direction to give emphasis to their personalities. Sock's being the valiant fighter and Meta being the honor bound bloodthirsty war-dog kept at Raven's feet. With Sam it's the inspiration and eventual overcoming of her fears as these visions reveal themselves. Clair's is the voice of reason and reflects that in her speech and decision making. Steal's chapters tend to be more focused on himself, Ringo and Sam.  Etcetera. So really, each chapter's amount of violence or speech will be determined by who's being focused on.

Just wanted to clarify that so nobody thought I was making a snuff novel. doodthing;

No yeah i knew it wasn't all going that way. What is mine focused on? And what is with Computers? This story's getting complex, where is it all headed?! powerofone;

Quote from: Hiro on August 06, 2008, 01:06:32 AM
No yeah i knew it wasn't all going that way. What is mine focused on? And what is with Computers? This story's getting complex, where is it all headed?! powerofone;

Your's...


Is a secret.  befuddlement

Oh yes, a "secret" epic  Unless you lied to me, or something.... bah! psyduck;

Meta-knight knelt before the bowl of mottled water. He was alone, at last he was alone. In his tent he could think and reason away from the watchfull eyes of his pupils. The ceramic bowl lay accusingly silent at his knees. Meta examined his blade remorsefull as he lifted it from the cleansing water. He could see his distorted refelection simmering back at him from the oily sheen of the blade. He'd killed men before, when duty demanded he was a butcher. But the children, he hadn't had time to think until they lay strewn in pieces across the field of battle. The first greeting he'd received from the forum was a toddler, he could still feel it passing effortlessly beneath his cycles wheelslike a tissue through a fan. It was like a high pitched giggling, then a squealing. He couldn't get the image out of his head, why couldn't he get it out? Cold tears trickled into the bowl of water His briefing from Raven told him the forum was heavily fortified. Had Raven been so blind as to completely ignore the obvious? There were no fighters, no warriors to speak of until push came to shove. It was then that the heartbroken fought vainly in hopes of avenging their loved ones. He knew better than to feel remorse, no warrior who doubted himself could really be called a servant of his master. A warrior fought to better serve his employers wishes. When guilt crept in it would eat at him, crippling him to be no more fit to fight than a child.
Maybe then it would even the odds.
Meta cast the thought from his mind, and yet like a cockroach it crept back up from the dark recesses of his mind.
You killed children, Meta.
Meta's fist tightened into balls, his eye squeezed shut in concentration.
You're a monster.
He'd done all that EJ had asked, he'd fulfilled his task to the letter.
EJRaven knew there were none to defend to forum. That was why he'd picked it first.
Mistakes happened, no doubt it was a grievous error in intelligence.
You're his terrier, Meta. When he's done with you he'll toss you like a used napkin.
He realizes my value and had wisely chosen me to undertake the tasks others would find too difficult.
He realizes that you'll do anything he sends you to do. Don't be a tool, Meta.
"I'm not!" Meta growled back, suprising himself when he realized he'd responded vocally to the voices and had broken the calm serenity of both the tent and his mind. How could this have happened? Meta desperately tried to shut out his doubts, they surrounded him enveloping him like a smothering cloud of smoke. His body felt compressed, every muscle tensed as he desperately fought to regain control.
"I'm losing myself!" he thought.
About him the whispers had increased in numbers, taunting, jeering and instilling fear with each addition. Meta stumbled forward with katana in hand, unable to utter more than an audible groan.
You killed them, Meta.
"Get..."
And when you're done he'll kill you.
"OUT!" he roared, arching his katana at the midsection of a visiting Hellrider as he peered into the tent.
"Sir, we heard some commo-" he never got to finish the sentence. The razor like blade cut effortlessly through his midsection, slowing slightly as it severed his spine. In a flash of doubt he'd killed his own. Two chunks of deadened meat fell to the floor lifelessly. He could hear several more of them coming from around the camp. He felt his heart pounding, beating rapidly in both exhilaration and fear as to what he had just done. The rider's face was frozen in a mask of shock and terror. Meta could feel the others closing in around him with their accusing silence. Meta brushed a stray lock from his face and stood up.
"What did I tell you about entering my tent while I was meditating?"
The riders gawked in stunned silence at their former compatriot.
"You!" Meta pointed towards the foremost Rider "Has the prisoner been shipped out yet?"
The rider blinked back disbelief
"Y-yes sir " he stammered back. Meta needed nothing more. His head was still throbbing .Giving a dismissing gesture he stumbled back into his tent. He was no longer safe to be around others, for the time being. He needed to lie down and think this over.
How many more Meta?
"Just shut up."

O_____________________O

The heat was sweltering, beads of sweat ran down Clair's face like droplets of rain off of a rooftop. The office had been hand furnished and crafted, every bit of painstaking detail was obvious from a casual observation. It was magnificent, as old as the forum itself and furnished for a king. Clair sat patiently across from Carello while he took a puff from a clean cigar. Behind him stood the imposing presence of his second-in-command, Phydeaux.
"So let me get this straight. You want us to help you out of some misplaced sense of..." Carello paused and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke with a widened grin "Charity?"
Clair fidgeted in her seat, "Well, yes."
"And I'm supposed to risk the lives of my members in an all out defensive push against Raven..." he paused again to take another puff 
"...somewhere in the middle of the desert? Help me out here Clair, you come to my forums, you bring these hired killers with you and you expect us to help you out?"
Clair could see negotions were going less than ideally. They might have had a chance of changing Carello's mind four hours ago, but now that Ringo and Sock's had been found out by Raven's assassins Carello had shown no desire to get involved. Ringo and Sock's sat silently behind her, speckled with what little blood they had been unable to wipe off before being rushed in. Somewhere in the back of her mind Clair registered the tense breathing of Steal emanating from the far corner. Steal leaned into the wall with his arms crossed in an expression of extreme irritation. Carello had made a point to confiscate their weaponry before admitting them in. Overall not an unwise choice, there were those within and without who hadn't approved of Carello's methods or decisions. While most had voiced their disagreement in lengthy complaints, a rare few had attempted to take more "direct" action in the past.
Sam sat quietly in a fold up chair a few feet from where Clair sat. Her mind in deep contemplation reflected in her vaccous gaze. Tension pulsed from the two like a throbbing wound, emenating in waves of livid emotion. Sam could feel Clair's frustration bubbling up as she spoke.
"If EJ takes Boyah it's only a matter of time until he sets his sights on Outsider. You need to-"
"Pah!" Carello cut her off with a brisque gesture "Boyah's problems are Boyah's problems. I look out for my own."
Clair clenched her fist into a tight ball, desperately fighting to stem her anger. When the conversation was resumed it wasn't Clair, but a darkened form propped loosely against the corner wall that spoke.
"We hear you've got a bit of a rat problem." Added Steal, a smirk creeping in from the corner of his mouth. Carello eyed the young Boyager warily, weighing his options as he spoke.
"We do. What of it?"
"Perhaps we could help each other out. You take care of our rat, we'll take care of yours."
The realization of just what the Boyager was implying deftly crept into his mind like a thief in the night. Leaning back in the swivel chair, Carello held the cigar loosely between his forefingers and stroked the sparse facial hair adorning his face. After considering his options carefully he spoke with gravity, ensuring the Boyagers understood full well what they were getting into
"I've had six patrols killed." he extinguished the stub while he spoke in a hushed tone "Six. What makes you think you can take this thing out on your own?"
"We've got a knack for these sorts of things"
"I'm not risking it, not on your own. I'm sending to squads in with you. If you still get butchered it's your own fault."
Turning his attention the blood stained Ringo, Carello gestured towards Phydeaux who was now carrying something draped in an elegant red velvet. The worn edges had been tasseled with a now off colored gold fabric. 
"Ringo. This is yours I assume, you left it after your last 'visit'" Carello finished with an audible note of disdain focused on the last word. Ringo's first reaction upon recognizing the object was to snatch his beloved possession from Phydeaux's grip. Leaning stiffly from the waist Ringo gripped the blade cordially and admired the craftmanship. It was old. Older than most any blade you'd find nowadays. Carvings from centuries gone by bore witness to each of the blade's keepers. The Rapier had been wielded by an ancient Knight of Hyrule. Legend had it that Cat had defended against an onslaught of agressors. For three days the Knight fought alone, cleaving flesh from artery effortlessly as the blade sustained her. When the dust had settled, the Knight collapsed and died of exhaustion, leaving with her last breath instructions to keep the sword safe. It was foretold that if Nsider was ever in need of defense, the blade would come to her aid. But when the administrators are the ones destroying the forums, not even a mythical blade can help.
Nodding politely Ringo muttered an expression of gratitude and was instantly absorbed with the piece. Sam looked about her with anticipation and dread, the others had accepted this proposal without hesitation. But at what cost would the secure this alliance? The Rat-King knew they would be coming, and she feared for those who would fall prey to his wiles.

I loved Legendary Cat :'(

Nightfall's veil had descended upon Labor and Production Post 31 leaving it's inhabitants in hellish fiery darkness. LPP31, recently christened Raven's Smelter, had been set up as a work camp. Prisoners were sent to one of the camps based upon their location. Raven's Smelter was a frontier outpost, thrust deep into nomadic territories as a staging ground for further assaults. Official word from higher up's was that LPP31 was placed were it was so that it could harvest from the resource rich desert surroundings.
In reality, Raven had seen the nomad's a problem from day one. Establishing a foothold in their territory meant easy deployment when the time came to attack. Normally, transportation in the desert was done by animal or large caravans of people. Raven's particular monopoly on resources allowed him another luxury so other few enjoyed, oil. Where there was oil, there was gas.


Through the desert, the roar of the diesel truck booned across the desert sands. Over worn road and sand the beast screamed into the night with a deafening cry. For those inside, it carried death.
Hiro's body swayed with the truck's movement. Occasionally, they'd hit a rough spot and he'd be jolted awake to the nightmare. He'd wanted it to be a nightmare, a horrible dream from which he'd awaken to find himself secure beneath his covers. Six hours into the drive and his head still pounded from the beating he'd received and his restraints still chafed. Another prisoner had complained about the travelling arrangements to one of the guards, moments before having his nose shattered. Hiro decided against drawing too much attention to himself while he surveyed his surroundings. The face of the man two seats down was contorted into what could only be described as a mixture of complete fear and agony. His jaw clenched with every bump on the desert road. Upon closer examination Hiro discovered a deep burn mark running up the side of his face. Charred flesh covered the majority of his right side while gangrenous tissue was beginning to travel farther out. Hiro remembered him, he'd seen him a few years back at Nsider. Nice guy, overall. Hiro would later count LRH lucky to have died so soon after being shipped out.
Black billows of smoke curled upwards  obscuring the horizon in a deathly black smog. What few bitter rays of light penetrated the toxic smoke shone crimson. The smell, the smell was overpowing. Hiro gasped, filling his lungs with the foul air and leaving the taste of burnt rubber at the back of his throat There was no relief, no end. Again he buckled against the restraints as he expelled the smoke from his lungs in a violent coughing spasm. From the front seat Hiro could see driver's head roll loosely to his far right from behind the metal grating.
"Y'gonna wanna get used t' it" he shouted over the roar of the engine. The portly man had a demeanor of perpetual irritation to him. His face scrunched inwards to the point that his lower lip and nose nearly touched. His overall's were a grimy blue stained throughout with spots of brown tobacco juice. Lifting his nose high into the air the driver filled his lungs with the pungent air around him.
"Home, sweet home."
Distantly, Hiro could hear a harsh metallic grinding of a garbage truck releasing it's contents into the a landifll. Cascading down the dead came, malnourished, maimed, lifeless shells of their former selves. Their eyes had sunken deep into their sockets giving them a skeletal visage. Like him, they were Nsiders, worked to the point that they could no longer function. And when exhaustion set in, safety would be ignored, accidents would happen. Hiro was exhausted himself, yet it was determination that kept him awake now. Clair, Socks, Ringo and Steal were alive. Boyah still depended on him and he wasn't about to give up. Clenching his hand into a fist Hiro examined his hand before loosening his grip. If he was going to escape he was going to have to adapt to using his right arm.
Around him the other prisoners sat limply in their seats, oblivious to their surroundings in their sound slumber.
As the bus began to slow a sloppily put together sign could be seen hung overhead. On it read
"Welcome to the Smelter. You'll come for the scenery but you'll stay for the people."
Hiro ignored the guards jeers from the front as they pulled into the loading bay. From behind he could feel the feel the truck lurch forward, then back. How badly he wanted to wake up now. Hiro could hear voices outside, yelling, laughing or talking about this and that. Their speech was thick and garbled, but discernable nontheless. Then and there Hiro made a promise to himself that whatever happened here, hewould be the one to put Raven's war dog down.
From the back, a beacon of light silhouetted the two brown clad figures entering from the backdoor.
Whatever happened.

It's back, AWESOME

OMG Hi. Where you been?  baddood;

Oh, here and there.

Working mostly.

I wanna be in it.
its so well written I want to cry

So it continues...

Please go on. baddood;

HOLY HELL YES!
I have missed this soooooooo much. :(
Glad to see it back. thumbup;
What am I in for now?

Soft rays of sunlight pierced the silent night in pastel ribbons of pink and purple, bringing about the dawn of a new day. From behind the blinds, you could just catch a glimpse of the rising sun struggling to overcome the concrete wall surrounding the forum. Raven had often slept in his office, as he often did, when troubled by recent events. Tonight was no exception.
Amidst office clutter and trash the administrator lay sprawled upon the executive office chair in troubled slumber whilst the world outside began to stretch its wings.
Piercing the stillness, a harsh tone reverberated through the room, knocking the leader from his cushioned perch.
Raven took several seconds to pinpoint the sound before fumbling half-awake with the remote setting on his desk. Seconds passed until weary groping finally yielded way to success. Exhaling a groggy sigh, Raven activated the large screen television.
The black screen shone a brilliant fluorescent blue, bathing the room in bright light.
Still worn, Raven flipped through recent inbound messages before throwing a narrow glance to the desk clock. Who could be calling at this hour?
Raven waited from the chair for the signal to catch up while he combed his fingers through his hair, muttering obscenities he barely remembered learning.
When the signal patched through, the first thing he noticed from behind the webcam was the face. It was world weary and worn with shrewd eyes that looked both at and through you. Even at these hours the countenance was unmistakable, and unwanted.
ââ,¬Å"Carello!ââ,¬Â� Raven feigned a smile ââ,¬Å"Burning the midnight oil I see.ââ,¬Â�
Carello, shrugged the greeting off with a disgusted glance across the room.
ââ,¬Å"Maid take the week off?ââ,¬Â�
Ravenââ,¬â,,¢s face pinched against the contrasting glare
ââ,¬Å"I hadnââ,¬â,,¢t expected company. Kind of early isnââ,¬â,,¢t it? What do I owe this visit to?ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"I know where the Boyagers are heading.ââ,¬Â�
Ravenââ,¬â,,¢s heart skipped a beat. Careful not to show his interest, Raven leaned back and forced a yawn before continuing
ââ,¬Â�Well, um, why donââ,¬â,,¢t you tell me what you know? And if the information proves worthwhile we can discuss a reward.ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"Iââ,¬â,,¢d appreciate it if you didnââ,¬â,,¢t think I was stupid.ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"Well help me decide Carello, you said there was a group of three?ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"I never said anything about how many, and there are five here with us.ââ,¬Â�
So far it looked like he was telling the truth. Raven weighed his options in silence while he prepared the next question.
ââ,¬Å"Now how do I know these are the Nsiders Iââ,¬â,,¢m looking for? For all I know they could already be dead.ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"Their names are Socks, Ringo, Clair, Steal and Sam. Now unless you plan on paying for the rest of it, youââ,¬â,,¢ll get nothing else from me.ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"Tell me this though, why would you betray them to us? Theyââ,¬â,,¢re your own kin of sorts.ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"Theyââ,¬â,,¢re competition, the less forums the more food, plain and simple.ââ,¬Â�
Raven examined the other administrator for any signs of deception. When none showed, he took the plunge.
ââ,¬Å"Very well, whatââ,¬â,,¢s your price.ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"I know thereââ,¬â,,¢s crude beneath their forums. When you raze it to the ground, I want Five-Hundred barrels.ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"Oil, Carello?ââ,¬Â� Raven scoffed ââ,¬Å"You want oil? And you have no concern over members. There are Seven-Hundred members and rising. Thatââ,¬â,,¢s quite the addition to any forum.ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"Kill them all. Theyââ,¬â,,¢re not my concern.ââ,¬Â� 
Carelloââ,¬â,,¢s answer took Raven by surprise. It was so out of character. Had Carello changed so much or had Raven simply mistaken his integrity? Raven tilted his head in contemplation while he gnawed his lower lip.
ââ,¬Å"Alright then Carello. Youââ,¬â,,¢ll get your oil when Boyah is gone. Now where are they headed?ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"Old Nsiderââ,¬Â� Carello explained intently ââ,¬Å"They plan on finding refuge there until this has all blown over. You catch them before that and theyââ,¬â,,¢ll be flat on their backs.ââ,¬Â�
Ravenââ,¬â,,¢s grin tightened as he punched the switch, silencing his guest prematurely before finishing the conversation in solitude.


ââ,¬Å"Youââ,¬â,,¢ve been a tremendous help Carello. I sincerely hope you donââ,¬â,,¢t expect me to be as accommodatingââ,¬Â�

From across the sands, forests and mountain ranges, hundreds of miles from Ravenââ,¬â,,¢s tight fisted rule, Carello sat comfortably within the confines of his forum. His eyes hadnââ,¬â,,¢t adjusted from the abrupt end to conversation and he was still struggling to make out shapes. Behind him, mere feet from where he sat, a silent shadow stood, silhouetted by the morning skyââ,¬â,,¢s. Carello let out a sharp exhale before addressing his new guest.
ââ,¬Å"Ringo, had I known I had visitors, I would have put on some tea.ââ,¬Â�

WHAT IS GOING ON HERE YOU LITTLE RUFFIANS  baddood;

Please, take this and run far away, far away from me. The two of us were never meant to be.

Ringo.  O_0

HOLY FUCK, THIS IS THE GREATEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER! <3

OMG HI JOHNNY.   :3

Welcome back. AWESOME

Steal surveyed the entrance to the lair, a barely visible hole concealed beneath a gnarled root. It was mid-morning and Ringo still hadnââ,¬â,,¢t shown. The group heââ,¬â,,¢d been assigned to was agitated, as was he. Rather than stall the entire operation, Steal had let the others go on ahead while he waited. His stomach tightened into knots, knowing Sam was out there with relative strangers, hunting a century spanning carnivore made him queasy. Not to mention the overall moral of the strike team with him was low at best. Houdini and Andrewââ,¬â,,¢s eyes were affixed in silent unison upon the bleak entrance. Was he scared? Terrified, but they didnââ,¬â,,¢t have to know. He silenced his fears and faced oblivion with no second thoughts.
The hole reeked of death, the stench of the rotting flesh of countless generations hung about it like a creeping mist, matching the dead interior of the long decaying tree from which it came. Everything within him screamed to run, to run as far and as fast from this bottomless graveyard as his legs would allow. But Sam was in there, and he would have followed her to places much worse than this, if there were any.
From what theyââ,¬â,,¢d gone over, the beast had confined itself to this place. This worried him; if the creature had known to hide itself it must have known they were coming. This meant they had not only lost the element of surprise, but possibly more members if they continued. Three other parties had blocked the exits and were slowly rooting their way downwards through the hellish gnarled labyrinth.
Steal spun to meet the confident gaze of Ringo, something was different about him this time. His smile sure, his eyes bright and his stance casual. It felt, wrong. Ringo stepped through the brush and met the attention of Houdini and Andrew with a knowing nod. Steal addressed him with a growl
ââ,¬Å"What? Did you have to do your hair?ââ,¬Â�
Ringoââ,¬â,,¢s smile never faltered as he brushed the quip off with a shrug and turned his attention to the strike team.
ââ,¬Â�Gentlemen, Carello needs your attentions elsewhere. Steal and I shall deal with this pest alone.ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"My instructions were to follow you two down into that hellhole and kill whateverââ,¬â,,¢s down there. Unless you can prove Carello sent you, I go nowhere.ââ,¬Â� Andrew growled defiantly.
With a deft flick of the wrist Ringo produced a single folded note from between his forefingers. Bowing slightly, he handed the note off.
Steal watched the two as Andrew read, his lips moving silently as he read. Removing the backup strike team was an extreme tactical blunder; would Carello be so foolish as to remove their only reinforcements within six-miles?
Andrew shoved the note back into Ringoââ,¬â,,¢s hands and walked away with a dismissive shrug, followed shortly by Houdini.
ââ,¬Å"What was that about?ââ,¬Â� Steal inquired, watching as the note disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
ââ,¬Å"Carello needed them back at Outsider, somethingââ,¬â,,¢s come up.ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"Should we head back then?ââ,¬Â�
ââ,¬Å"No.ââ,¬Â� Ringoââ,¬â,,¢s voice echoed panic ââ,¬Å"No, we only need to accomplish our mission. Then weââ,¬â,,¢re done.ââ,¬Â�

Entering the lair, Steal suppressed a gag. The smell was bad outside, inside it was revolting. Like something had crawled down there and died, alongside its family. Steal lit the torch with a small lighter and lifted it high above his head, careful not to ignite his surroundings. Small beady eyes scampered out of the torches light into the unending darkness, he knew they were here.
Matted fur and stinking feces had been packed around the tunnels walls, giving the floor an uncomfortable squish whenever heââ,¬â,,¢d step. Behind him, Ringo could be heard softly following like a stalking panther.
Stealââ,¬â,,¢s progress was halted by a quick jerk from his right shoulder. Ringo had taken a grip of his shoulder and was holding him back.
ââ,¬Å"Careful, wouldnââ,¬â,,¢t want you to fall.ââ,¬Â� He laughed
Below him, a vast chasm spread out, a gnarled tangle of roots providing a downward path into the abyss.
ââ,¬Å"How far down do you think it goes?ââ,¬Â� Steal asked aloud, part to himself and part to his present company
ââ,¬Â�Throw your torch down.ââ,¬Â�
Steal let the flame fall into the chasm, and waited. A faint light, like a star from another galaxy, shined from the enveloping darkness before slowly fading into nothing.
Ringo loomed ominously beside Steal,
ââ,¬Å"Quite the dropââ,¬Â�
Steal brushed the comment off
ââ,¬Å"Whatever. We need to get down there. How sturdy do you think those roots are?ââ,¬Â�
Steal waited for a response, when he didnââ,¬â,,¢t get one he stopped. Ringo was at home in the darkness, blending in like a drop of water amongst the ocean. Heââ,¬â,,¢d wanted him to drop the torch. Without light he was in his element.
Steal inquired again, hoping to incite some reaction from his follower. ââ,¬Å"Ringo?ââ,¬Â�
Stealââ,¬â,,¢s head erupted into white light, rendering him oblivious to his surroundings as his assailant readied himself for another strike. Stealââ,¬â,,¢s spun in a daze and drew the blade, hoping to meet his assassin head on. This was what it had come to; he knew he couldnââ,¬â,,¢t murder him openly, so he had decided to kill in secret. Lunging forward he swung the blade in a wide arc, narrowly missing Ringo and dislodging a mat of hair from the wall below. Ringo rolled forward and swept across Steals leg with his left leg, following through with a palm strike to his diaphragm that left Steal breathless. Steal scrambled desperately to get to his feet. Carefully examining his foe, Ringo casually sidestepped a second swing.
ââ,¬Å"You know, an Nsider and I had a bet as to whether you black out before, or right as you hit the ground.ââ,¬Â� Ringo mused
Steal felt slowly towards the dagger at his hilt, hoping to keep him occupied
ââ,¬Å"Who won?ââ,¬Â�  He gasped
ââ,¬Å"I donââ,¬â,,¢t know, he never survived the first fall. Goodbye, Steal.ââ,¬Â�
Stealââ,¬â,,¢s footing gave way as Ringoââ,¬â,,¢s foot impacted against the back of his calf, plunging Steal into a freefall. Everything swam around him in these lightless depths until all that was sure were shrill panicked screams. When the ground came, he could hear bone snapping, but nothing more.

Why haven't you started writing a book yet

That was fast.

What would I write about?

ADD ME IN THE STORY


ACTION BASTARD BASTARD BEAM

Quote from: JohnnyRingo2 on April 03, 2009, 07:31:57 PM
That was fast.

What would I write about?

I don't know... something similar to this? I mean I generally am not much of a reader, but this stuff is exciting

...................... :O
How could you?

Quote from: Hïro on April 03, 2009, 07:40:09 PM
...................... :O
How could you?

It was an accident. >_>

Quote from: JohnnyRingo2 on April 03, 2009, 07:48:26 PM

It was an accident. >_>

WHY WOULD YOU DO SUCH A THING
YOU ARE A BAD PERSON  madood;

[spoiler]jk i luv you  :3[/spoiler]

D:

Quote from: Sam on April 03, 2009, 07:55:48 PM
D:

Ringo wants your cock yes;

Quote from: Hïro on April 03, 2009, 07:56:18 PM
Ringo wants your cock yes;

Ringo can't handle my cock yes;

Quote from: Sam on April 03, 2009, 07:57:31 PM
Ringo can't handle my cock yes;

I can. yes;

Sam has a massive cock yes;

Cool so I was only mentioned once in the second part  :(
But yeah epic story

Quote from: Geno on April 04, 2009, 02:59:47 PM
Cool so I was only mentioned once in the second part  :(

At least you were mentioned... Some people haven't been in at all n_u

Quote from: JohnnyRingo2 on April 03, 2009, 07:31:57 PM
That was fast.

What would I write about?

The day when Boyah is no more, and how these users will continue their lives without it.

The god knew no time. Flesh went in until it had been expended, whereupon it went out. A time to live meant a time to die. To grow it must consume; to think it must destroy. The process was a paradox but here they wouldn’t need logic. People went in, while some fought and some obeyed, all eventually bowed to the Deus Machina. This god had no existence, though it deprived others of theirs. It was a mechanized puppet that ate hope and spit out signatures. With every pull of each lever, the few that still felt wept and cursed their god in silent protest for its cruelty. The machine continued, molten steel hissed on hot template and another signature was pressed into place. Hiro shut himself off, the work was especially hard when the levers were designed to be pulled with both hands.  When he had first set foot onto the factory floor (before they had shackled him to it) the other inmates watched him with reptilian intensity. The weak were fodder for the strong and the more wiry bodies chewed through the gears the more time the machine had to be shut off. Hiro refused to embrace death as the others had and they hated him all the more for it. They would just have to keep on hating him.  They watched him in silence and Hiro could feel the haze of routine fading. Something primal within him had noticed the change long before Hiro’s attention was torn from the conveyor belt.
The man next to him was waning and his lever pulls had become infrequent. He stopped and turned towards Hiro. The action gained the attention of the floor foreman and a reprimand was given. The man sat motionless and Hiro could see the hint of a smile creeping across his lips. This was the look of death here, the stare that embraced the oblivion with open arms.  Exhaustion was deadly as his companion soon proved. His eyes glazed over and his lips mouthed silent utterances and then audible ones. Even amidst the industrial white noise, Hiro could discern the dialect of a local tongue.
“If I were to see her, just once more. I would tell her. I would tell her I loved her. I would ask of her but one thing, that when she is gray and old, when she surveys her life with her children and her grandchildren, when she looks over all of the beauty she has brought into this world that she take but a second to remember a wretch like I, that I may die a contented man. I am glad she is far from this place. �
Tears now, for lost causes and hopeless dreams, streamed down the mans face. With one last futile look upward, the man let go of the lever and collapsed onto the conveyer belt.  His face had a vacant expression to it. The corner of his mouth quivered as his head came under the signature press. Glassy eyes regained some semblance of humanity, fixating on Hiro and burning their own signature into his mind’s eye. The machine’s presses had been designed to imprint thin sheet metal, not the human skull. Extra pressure was applied to attempt to overcome the obstacle. Hot steam scalded the man’s face and the machine screeched in protest. Everything shut down, lights flickered to nothing and all that could be heard was the soft searing of human flesh. Rough paper jabbed at Hiro’s hands from behind, on it a simple message
“Meet in half hour at mess hall. Alone.�
The message ended as cryptically as it had started. Short, hurried scrawls on a scrap of filthy paper.
A few seconds later, an obstruction alarm sounded somewhere high above. The piercing shriek alerted the captives to the scuffle of black boots. Routine had already taken precedence and Hiro and the others stood at their station, turning towards the door with arms extended at their sides. A gaze caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Before its identity could be registered, a group of guards burst through the door. Their black boots complimented their equally cold faces. Death was as commonplace as anything else here and the foreman had seen it all before. To him, they were numbers to be tallied at the end of the day. Hiro buried the wealth of hatred beneath a façade of complacency. Now was not the time to become indignant. The righteous were indignant and the righteous always died first. Hiro folded the paper into his palm with a subtle nod to the sender.  For the first time since he had arrived, Hiro felt and even more dangerous emotion than indignation, hope. Two guards manually tried to lift the bulky press from the corpse. The man’s face wouldn’t let go of the press, but after a bit of plying it released with a tear.  Little more than a piece of flesh caught in one big, broken machine. The foreman appraised the body casually and signaled two guards to have it disposed of. On the dead man’s face, the Nsider 2 insignia had been burned deep. He blinked once, and no more.

For as long as anyone can remember, the InvisionFree tribes of Nsider existed in some form or another. The first Nsider settlers to settle in the eastern country found it a bitter and inhospitable land. Before The Fall, an IF forum would typically consist of fifty members or less. The mighty Outsider, before Phydeaux and Carello led their peoples on a massive pilgrimage to the resource rich forest, was in and of itself one of those tribes. When Nsider finally fell, a great flood of refugees filled the forums, exceeding the maximum carrying capacity of those too generous to turn them away and draining them of precious resources in weeks. This in turn created more refugees, and the masses grew.  Seeing the fate of their predecessors hardened the hearts of other InvisionFree forums and the pleading masses of starving took what would not be given them. There was war and atrocities, as mankind has always perpetrated if at all within his power and when the dust had settled, seven tribes emerged. Splintered as they had been, they posed to Meta no problem.
Meta dismounted the cycle and briefly glanced himself over. Five tribes of the original seven now remained. The casualty rate of civilizing these brutes was unacceptable. A handpicked dozen of his Hellriders waited for his signal. Raven’s men had become war-weary and he had observed more than a few stray shots miss their mark on account of the perceived innocence of the target. Each of his men were marked with an unswerving loyalty to Meta.  The bandages Meta wore stank of blood and the flies itched fiercely but they would serve their purpose. If the religious texts Meta had spent the last few days transcribing bore any relevance to this tribe, the initial assault would be the most important. The heavy robe left a wide wake in the white desert sand, concealing the hellish apparition upon which they hung. Bones rattled in stride to the grisly reaper’s bleak march. Pestilence had come and gone and famine was here, but war was coming and death followed with him.
Meta approached the messenger he had been sent. He was a frail child with weak bones and a ruddy complexion. The child approached him alone.
“Qualanx has heard your offer.� The boy paused and swallowed, avoiding Meta’s glare “ We will not relocate. This is our home…� another pause,�A-and we are willing to protect it with our l-l-l�
“Lives?� Meta finished. “How old are you?�
“Eleven.�
“And your name?�
“Nathan�
“Nathan, did Qualanx think I would spare you because of your age? Is that why he sent you?�
The boy was becoming fidgety, turning his head away from Meta, seeking signs of help that would never arrive. Meta followed the boy’s gaze to the beige tents atop a distant dune. The rest of the tribe was watching them but they had made on fatal mistake, they had counted on him coming alone. The time for words had passed.
“Nathan.�
The boy turned his head and gazed pleadingly into Meta’s eyes. Warm blue eyes like sunshine through a clouded day. There was no taint of the cruelty from the world he existed in. They knew no hatred and they knew no pain. To take something so innocent from this burnt world would be cruel. To let him exist would be crueler. Placing one hand on the boy’s shoulder Meta ran the shoto across the boy’s throat, running a deep cut through both jugular veins. This time it was Meta who averted his gaze. He’d never heard anyone cry like that. Meta held the boy against his robes and let him weep. A quiver ran through Meta’s hand and it passed. Without the support of Meta’s arm the child collapsed into the desert sand and was forgotten. Meta rattled the blade, signaling his hellriders into action. The wolves would descend upon the lambs, and it would be Meta leading his pack. Mounting his cycle Meta revved the engine. He wasn’t close enough to unveil the beast, not until they could really see it or the effect was lost. His men were closing in on the encampment and Meta felt a vague uneasiness. It was like a puzzle with a single piece missing and he couldn’t place where. The silence. He had regarded the sound of battle as white noise before. The curious lack of reaction bothered him.
There were screams now, ingenuine to true panic, as a small group of three fled their tents. A single hellrider moved to intercept them. He had given into the bloodlust, so Meta would let it take him. The trap was sprung, ornate steel upon coarse cedar jutted forth from the burning sand impaling the rider and sending his cycle veering. Pretense abandoned, the tribesmen leapt from beneath layers of sand, roaring their battle cry with pike in hand.  The muscular figure held the writing rider above him contemplatively for a moment.
“Behold! I see blood, but no soul.� The chieftain chided. With a mighty heave the chieftain slung the broken figure messily from the pike onto the burning sand whilst the last ebbs of life drained from his body. Qualanx the Bitter (as he was known now) held the bloodied pike above him, waving in defiance at his aggressors.
“You wish to end my life? Then come and take it!� The warriors formed a protective circle as the remaining riders circled around, looking for a breach. The time had come, it was quite clear. Circling once Meta dismounted the bike. The ebb of the engines around him growled in support. The situation had changed. Raising his right hand in silence Meta signaled the riders to leave him. One by one, some begrudgingly and others more willingly, the riders left Meta alone in the company of his foes. Each one of the tribesmen would fight to the bitter end to protect what they held.
“Oh, you are a bold one!� Qualanx snarled.
Meta held his peace. The men around Qualanx weren’t as steadfast. Every chain had its weak links. The man to Qualanx’s right in the formation held a small pendant. A religious artifact Meta recognized from the smelter. Meta’s initial unveiling would affect him the most. He would take him first, then work his way clockwise. Meta cleared himself of any doubt, tactically examining the formation. Qualanx’s men crept forward with pike’s raised. Meta slowly pulled the katana at his side from its sheath and loosened his robe.
“What? Not so sure you can take something that fights back?� Qualanx snapped.
A calm washed over Meta, and he was quickened. Meta let the robe fall to the sand, holding the katana in a defensive posture. A steady puddle of urine pooled beneath one of the tribesman’s feet. They stood unsure now, some shaking and others whispering mantra’s of protection to their native god. The effect was exactly what he had hoped for.
It was one thing to fight a man. To fight a man meant dealing with something ordinary, familiar. A man felt fear and pity. To fight a monster though, to fight a monster was different. If your enemy perceived you as something horrific you held their fear. But it was always to be remembered that to play the monster was different than becoming it. If Meta succumbed to the horror, he became a beast and was lesser for it.
Inspiration arose from one of the holy texts he had come across. It spoke of a skeletal devil that collected the bones of warrior’s unfaithful and cowardly. Their faith was a persistent thing and it was faith that compelled these to fight against surmounting odds. Meta’s chest was bared, save for the necklace of moist ribs that hung about his neck. Two femurs had been tightly bound by cloth wrapping to his own, in them a host of flies proceeded from the opened marrow. Several sets of ribcages formed a skeletal armor. For a split second, there was nothing. The black storm of flies swirled around him preceding the coming slaughter with winged applause. With cobra like agility Meta seized the first pike and carved through the first man’s torso.  Shimmering steel contrasted the black cloud of death, mesmerizing the second man before he was felled. The third man was the first to make some feeble attempt at defense but by then it was much too late. The wolf was in the fold and the sheep’s bleats fell on deaf ears. Like ink to paper the blade cut its prose through the group in masterful strides, wreaking Meta’s masterpiece in bloodied sand and felled might. The cloud was dissipating and the one still standing could now see what man it was that terror inhabited.
“Oh God. Momma… � The desperate sobs of the dying replaced the warriors’ bravado.
“Your God isn’t here. You mother isn’t here. I am here and only now do you realize how truly and fundamentally undone you all are.� Meta uttered. His voice maintained a detached monotony as he turned his attention to the one left standing. Qualanx blinked back his surprise. His cheek was bleeding profusely from a deep gash, but he had been left unharmed.
“This was a warning. Your people will meet here in a week. You will surrender unconditionally or perish completely.�

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUH3JQjcweM[/youtube]

[22:07][PatchesTheClown] Dogs & humans are the only animals with what
[22:12][Mr.CMB] a taste for scat porn and single malt scotch
[22:20][PatchesTheClown] dodogs like single malt?

I miss this so much  :'(

I thought he returned.  :'(

So, I'm going to try to post at least two chapters a week. One of my accounts was deleted that had the prior chapters between the Rat-King's death and Steal's attempted murder. So if you have any questions feel free.

In some ways, it was exactly as she'd imagined it. Old wine brought from the depths of cellars and backrooms in celebration of the Boyagers return. Grown men embraced strangers, laughing and weeping openly in relief as news of the rat-kings death spread. Their approach of Carello's Court was thronged by strangers, kissing the hands of their group and lauding them all with praise. All except Sam. They could see it in her eyes, something haunted and distant. The death hung on her heavily and she could feel the fear behind the eyes of the Outsiders. Clair stood at thee groups head, holding the bloodied bag that swung rightly at her side.
"We have upheld our end of the bargain." her voice reverberated throughout the courtyard. Hushed murmurs echoes through silence. Undoing the coarse string, Clair dropped the bag and held it's bloody package high above her. The greatest head of the rat-king
"Gaze now and fear no more!" her eyes beamed with a light Sam hadn't seen in years "Your children are safe, the despoiler is dead." with emphasis, Clair flung the bloodied skull forward onto dust floor. A wave of rejoicing erupted, the lightning cheers and cries crashed down on the four. Betraying his stoic nature, the corners of Sock's lip curled into a smile. Beside her, Sam could feel the vitriol boiling off of Steal. Something told her that whatever had occurred in the Rat King's lair was still eating at him. The boon of applause was silenced by signal from a figure high-above them. Carello's wood throne overlooked the crowd, giving him a regal air as he spoke.
"When you came to us, we were wary of your intentions. Since the fall of Nsider, our numbers across these lands have dwindled. It has made us cold people, with bitter hearts. Today I welcome you, not as guests, but as our friends. You have proven beyond any shadow of a-"
Sam's hearing faded. A vacuum of silence dulled Carello's words to indistinguishable utterances, and then a whine. It wasn't a noise that called her but an absolute absence of it. Without seeing, she knew. Standing behind her, the burnt Wrench stood. His voice twisted into a visage of perpetual pain. For a moment, he opened his mouth and screamed. Guttural, desperate cries. The skin on him was charred and peeling as it was in death, and she knew that Wrench's death had scarred his spirit. Seconds of writhing passed before Wrench mustered enough strength to stop. Fists balled, his eyes locked with hers and she immediately regretted it. His voice was soft and weak, as was hers as she quietly parroted the words aloud. Images flashed in her mind, mechanized and filthy. The suffering of hundreds, the genocide of more as progress trampled underfoot the lives of those who would dare stand to oppose it. Gristle and flies. Tribal markers. A shaman. A knight now gone ronin. All linked by one word. The images were gone as quickly as they came, as was Wrench.
Seconds passed and the riling call of Carello's closing came to Sam's attention.
"United! My brethren, we will stamp their bodies into mortar and build ourselves a better world!" Adoration spilled once more from the stands about them.
One of the Outsiders that had accompanied their group, Houdini, stood by Ringo with an aged parchment taken from Castle Nsider. Houdini was enthralled with the piece and for the first time since she'd met him, Sam felt a dread for Ringo. From what she could see there were no words written here, only notes. On the front, the words Solemne Ossium dominated. Houdini nodded in agreement to something and left Ringo. His attention turned to her and for a second something dark replaced it. He knew death, as she did, but not as an enemy.
"What were you doing?" She inquired
"Hm?"
"Just now. The parchment"
"Houdini has a varied taste in music. I sold him a piece I'd been carrying around I thought he might be interested in."
His explanation was terse, and Sam could practically taste deception on him.
"Besides, it's always good to have a few extra friends." he smiled at some inside joke before shifting subjects
"Now, what did you say about 'Hiro'?"

what

WHAt

OMG RINGO

Quote from: burzumfan420 on January 26, 2011, 11:21:04 PM
[22:07][PatchesTheClown] Dogs & humans are the only animals with what
[22:12][Mr.CMB] a taste for scat porn and single malt scotch
[22:20][PatchesTheClown] dodogs like single malt?

take a look at this guy

Quote from: Khadafi on June 04, 2013, 06:13:13 PM
OMG RINGO
take a look at this guy

Yeah, I saw that. Asshole gave away the ending.

WHAT THE FUCK

Quote from: JohnnyRingo2 on June 04, 2013, 06:20:08 PM
Yeah, I saw that. Asshole gave away the ending.

sry

Lights out was thirty minutes ago. Hiro couldn’t so much hear the leaking pipe above him as he could feel it. The water droplets sent out the tiniest reverberations that echoed off his taut skin. Below him, the bunk his cellmate resided in lay soundless. Perhaps the newest addition was exhausted, perhaps he was dead. Hiro knew both possibilities to be plausible. As he listened past the silence of Schrodinger’s cellmate and could make out the dim drone of parting conversations. The guards lingered around the cells for twenty to thirty minutes after, he had counted. In the bunk across from him, V stared silent as a corpse, the only signs of life being his controlled breath and an unflinching gaze. It was said that happy men do not start revolutions. Happy men do not watch guards for men who would abandon their post when they thought everyone was asleep. Happy men do not fashion shivs from sheet metal and tuck them beneath their tongues. It is not the happy that uphold exceptional production standards to ensure to lax security.
Hiro was an especially unhappy man. As he watched his accomplice in the bunk across from him remove his shirt and urinate into it, staining it a tea brown, Hiro played the next few moments in his head in the same way you’d replay a sports reel. Thirteen drips since V began. Time was intangible here, so he counted the flow of water as the flow of time.
V’s footfall was silent, accompanied only by the resistance of fabric in his descent. Hiro crept into action as V looped the wet towel between two bars. The bars showed signs of minor damage and bloody knuckles from inmates who were foolish enough to address their captors. They had seen abuse, but not of the orchestrated variety. Forty six drips from now, the wet towel looped hurriedly around two sets of bars twice and Hiro was passed off a side. Torque and resistance were the vital ingredients here, the moisture in the towel causing it to bunch instead of tear. Sweat ran down their faces in time with the water droplets. Panicked euphoria rushed through Hiro’s veins as the first resistance gave way. It was only an inch, but in seconds it gave way to another. An audible creak reverberated down the hall in tune to their orchestrated abuse.
Whispers accompanied their efforts. The cell block stirred to life. With one last pull, the two wrenched a space barely capable of fitting their shoulders through. Pleading coughs became shouts as dying men called desperately for their freedom. They could not have saved them, but that did not stop the others for spiting them for it. Each cell they passed sprang to life with condemnations and cries for their captors. They were eighteen drips behind schedule.
Coal fueled lights flashed on in guard tower and dogs bayed. Hiro recognized the barks and terror filled him.  Meta had left his war dogs at home. He hadn’t anticipated this and some deep fear in him immobilized him in both mind and body.
V yanked Hiro forward and growled
“Move past it.�
Hiro’s hand shook, first in fear then in exhilaration as he saw the first section of chain-link fence. V moved into position, interlocking both hands in front of him in a kneel.Moving as a man possessed, Hiro leapt in synchronous with V’s boost and gripped the fence the best he could. He straddled himself on the fence and steadied himself. The dogs barking grew closer, and V grasped Hiro’s arm for a moment before leaving a stone emblem.
“We won’t make it.� His tone was resigned, and Hiro knew in his heart what was being said was true. Without a body they would hound them past the gates, if only to make an example of them. They could mask their tracks but not their scent from the dogs. As long as the prison believed there to be an escape, they would hound them. Two men guaranteed death, or one man only mostly dead.
“Take that to the IF tribe, tell them what happened here, what they did to us. More than anything, this need be said. We are fractured, and it is in that division that they have domesticated us.�
Hiro nodded. In between the guards approach and V’s diversion from the fence, there was only the knowledge that existed between executioner and martyr.


I swear to God, I can never leave this thing. It's like it calls for me every time.

The moon shone pale and beautiful, illuminating a marble altar of ancient times. Ringo could almost hear a seething call from the figures that stood watch. In the years preceding Power On’s dissolution, cults of devotees sought to stall the forums destruction by means of the dark arts. Hunter’s Moon was a time of sacrifice, as dozens of member’s blood was spilled upon the altar before him to act as servants in the afterlife.  Ringo felt the iridescent marble run the tips of his fingers, outlining the words “Pro Patriaâ€� In defense of our home. The knife in his pocket weighed heavy on him. Steal would come seeking vengeance. The spirits here recognized murderers, and Ringo had done his own share of killing, sometimes in self-defense. Often it was not. Ringo thought back to Sam, and wondered if he were to survive, if he were to stay with Sam, could he assuage his own conscience? Would his nature change by her goodness, or would he simply be concealing it? The scarred ones had always drawn him, and her own injuries carried in her stance. He had watched over the dead at Nsider partially out of a sense of pity and guilt for his own survival. In the coming battle, it would be these tortured souls, here and in the catacombs below Nsider that would serve instrumental in turning the tide, if it could be done. Ringo perked to the sound of encroaching footsteps and relaxed at seeing a welcome gait. Sam.
“I wondered where you’d gone. Outsider’s sent a third of their fighters to defend Castle Nsider. They’re offering to give us a ride back come tomorrow afternoon.�
“I wanted to pay my respects. In a few years nobody will be left to remember who these graves stood for.�
“You dwell too much on the past. The dead only linger where they feel they need to continue a work� she paused “Or where they’ve been wronged.�
Ringo remained silent, listening to the insect life bustle around the shrine.
“We’re not going to come out of this alive.�
“Don’t say that�
“Then tell me it’s not true. You and your premonitions, you saw the blood from the corpses on which the trees grew. You saw Wrench, you saw that Rat. You’re telling me in the face of mortality, you couldn’t sense our own?�
“You think I just pick what I see? That I selectively chose to see Wrench’s blistered body or hoped I would view the mass graves of those buried by Nsider’s debris? This gift is only a gift to those who use it. I’m afraid of sleeping anymore.�
“Come now. What of Boyah then? It’s been so long, how likely is it that they’re even still alive?�
Sam studied Ringo. In their travels, his own demeanor could be described as impish at best. This was not that.
“You’re afraid� she stated, her tone matter-of-fact.
“No, I’m terrified. They have what they need, they have Outsider’s support, they have fortifications and the defense that comes with that. What are two people? For the first time in as long as I can remember, I care about something and I’m afraid for it.� Ringo’s tone softened “leave with me. Tonight. Let them count us casualties.�
A dull chant rose from the marble statues, overpowering her senses and for a second she could see them. It had struck her that amongst the vast audience of marble figures, that there was one whose eyes were open. Her eyes had an oily black to their visage and they peered unblinkingly into Sam’s own. She forcibly averted her gaze, and when she did, it was not the one that watched, but them all. The chant grew louder, in unison, parroting some arcane dogma of rituals bygone. The spirits had shown her the next casualty in their ancient culling song.
“I can’t leave them behind. We have more to do.�
“What do we have then? An army to fight, friends to lose, innocents to watch be butchered? We are ash in wind at best, our lives painful and insignificant placeholders for a death  that few welcome. We have nothing.â€�
Sam took a step back. With steady motion she undid the tunic that clung to her waist and let the cloth fall to the stone pavilion. Her nipples stood erect in the night’s mist and her supple body shone luminous under the starlit sky. For once in his life, Ringo was at loss for words.
“We have tonight.�

are you a scorpio

Quote from: Travis on July 23, 2014, 10:21:43 PM
are you a scorpio

Yep

We've really lost a bunch of the core characters huh

As far as active members, oh yeah. I thought about shifting focus but once we get past this bump of timing between the IF raid and castle fortification it'll be the last chapters.

sam is dead.  kill her off this island

oh my god that last part lmao
so here's how this should end at this point
most of the people in the caravan die, the Nintendo Gods decide Sam's too good for this shit so she ascends to the heavens, a few Outsiders join our side, a plague sweeps Outsider nearly killing it, while Boyah continues its dreary fate but manages to hold on by a thread

also i'm still flattered that i'm a main character in a fanfiction

For all two of you who want to see the end, here's how it would have played out.

Hiro escapes the camp and begins to organize rival forums to take out the signature factory. Banding the forums together, he parses out the route N2's auxiliary's are taking are meant to reinforce the assault on Outsider. Metaknight is becoming increasingly unable to distance himself from the acts of genocide he is perpetrating and compensates through impulsive acts of violence. Utilizing guerilla tactics, Hiro draws the security forces from the factory, and leads an assassination mission on Metaknight. Metaknight easily outmatches the one-handed Hiro, playing with him before skewering him through the kidney with the katana. Seeing the blade is lodged in him, Hiro cuts Meta's throat in death. Hiro's dying words go from a weak taunt to consolation. "I got you, fucker. I got you." Stripped of nations and creeds, Meta grips his former adversary's hand in mutual death and begins to weep. Hiro whispers again "It's okay. I got you."

Ringo has been acting as a double-agent, leading Nsider 2 to believe he's disabling the defenses of Outsider, and giving Carello coordinates to flank them instead. He provides an ancient musical tome which would revive long dead forum members as wraiths to fight in the battle. After Sam's death, he is overcome with guilt and flees until he arrives with the Outsiders in the last battle. During the final assault, he separates EJ from his group and attempts to kill him in a duel. EJ ripostes and drives his own sword through Ringo's heart. Steal stoops down to listen to his last words which are garbled nonsense "We have tonight"

Steal is still alive. That line "Hears the crunching of bones and nothing more" means he fell into a pit of carcasses and was knocked out. He tracks Ringo down on route to Outsider and ambushes him, almost killing him. Sam sees the conflict in a premonition and intercedes only to be mortally wounded in the crossfire. With her dying breath, she speaks a premonition and dies. Steal goes on to join the party and assists in the defense of Boyah during the final assault, stabbing EJ in the final duel. As EJ clutches the sword in his chest, ethereal lightning strikes the blade thrice, burning his eyes from their sockets and charring his lungs, leaving him drowning in his own blood.

Houdini and several of the Outsiders put together a band and utilize the ancient tome to raise the wraith army. As the battle progresses, the song increases in intensity. Lightning crashes and rain slicks the mud in torrents. Several of the band members are injured during the fight but play through. Phydaux is injured and one of his band is killed during play. He scoops up the instrument and begins the Death's Crescendo, playing two of the parts at once. All of the band is transformed into undead husks, animated by fell magic as they play an accompaniment to the mass killing. At the conclusion, their souls dissipate into the air.


Socks leads in the defense of Boyah as the position is overrun. He fights through two crossbow bolts to the sternum, beating his opponents to death with his bare hands. As he's overrun, he spits blood into his assailants faces before being cut apart by a flurry of hatchet blows. As he's dying, Hiro's forces arrive as reinforcements, flanking Nsider. With EJ dead, the Nsider 2 forces attempt to flee. Few escape, with the majority being forced into pockets of resistance. The N2's attempt to surrender. They are unsuccessful.

Claire become disgusted with the sheer brutality of the conflict, the use of unholy magic, and snaps after seeing Nsider 2's forces butchered wholesale. Decrying both sides as interchangeable in their evil, she leaves on her own. Carello sees her and Steal off with supplies for their journeys. Steal, now the only member left of the original expedition, returns to Boyah to report his success. Internal strife and starvation has rendered the forum desolate of life. Desiccated corpses hang from the battlements, and the howl of the wind is the only sound that occupies this ghost town. Steal, numbed by violence, pain and grief sits down in the dust. He looks west, and then he looks east. The wind begins to pick up, and the story ends.

The prologue would have had the Computer use the defeat as Outsider to install a puppet governor. Computer would begin circulating misinformation as to the size of Outsider's forces to push Nsider 2 to become an authoritarian state under the constant threat of invasion. It would end with Computer musing as to the best means with which to begin the first wave of dissident purges in his own forum before deciding to compile a list titled "Agents of Outsider"

Most of those people arent even here anymore lmao

Quote from: Samus Aran on October 15, 2020, 07:22:50 PMMost of those people arent even here anymore lmao

Oh my God. If you die in the story, you die in real life. What have I done?

Quote from: JohnnyRingo2 on October 15, 2020, 07:32:13 PM

Quote from: Samus Aran on October 15, 2020, 07:22:50 PMMost of those people arent even here anymore lmao

y God. If you die in the story, you die in real life. What have I done?

No worries. Most of us are not dead just lurking or mia.  :3

I hadalways hoped I would show up in a cameo

RIP the dream

well shit that's dark lol, "everyone dies" is pretty fitting though
I never expected to see an ending to this. Seeing it now, so long since the last update, is really strange but cool. This was one of my favorite pieces of Boyah history. It's really funny too seeing that so few of the characters in the story have even been seen here in a long time.

you know, i ctrl+f'd each page to make sure, and it's totally bogus that i'm not in this story at all

Quote from: Samus Aran on October 22, 2020, 01:40:25 AMyou know, i ctrl+f'd each page to make sure, and it's totally bogus that i'm not in this story at all

yre a npc LOL

lol im not in it either hell yea

Wait I get butchered because Hiro is late.

FUUUU Hiro

Also I want to say, Ringo glad you're alive my man.

From time to time I have wondered about this story and this finally brings me peace.

If only my fake romance with Rae could have been in real life. :P

Also, my only other burning unanswered question is what happened to that Selkie guy, like in real life hope he's ok, he was a pretty cook cat.