z

Young Writers Society


The Revolution



User avatar
176 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 1983
Reviews: 176
Tue Oct 18, 2016 8:46 pm
View Likes
sheysse says...



Iron Greywood


I looked around the dorm. It was a stone room, shaped like a square. It had two small beds, one in each far corner. One for me, and one for Finnian. There was a coffee table and two chests. The chests also had two shulker boxes in them, for more space. A sofa stretched across the wall the door opened into.
I had to share a room with Finnian, but I wasn't too disappointed. He had a few pets, but he seemed relatively easygoing, and probably wouldn't mind me working on the project. I pulled it out of my pocket and fiddled with it. It was a small iron plate with a disk on the front. I flicked it, and the disk spun automatically. When I stopped, the redstone shut off.
I walked over to my bag and removed the set of diamond armor. I set up an armor stand a delicately decorated it with the armor. Then I took out a map of the area and hung it on the wall. It showed Mineplex, and a couple other major cities, like Hypixel. It also had small outpost towns, like Pig and Tulip Woods.
The door opened, and in came Finnian. He passed me a schedule, and kept a duplicate for himself. Looking down at it, I realized it was time for breakfast. This would be the first time I'd have a chance to get to know my allies, making this a key moment.
We walked down the corridor in silence, neither of us wanting to make a conversation. The corridor was long, though, and eventually I felt too awkward. “So...”
He kept walking, and I kept up the silence.
We eventually reached the dining hall. It was a large room built to fit the curvature of the huge cavern. A massive glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, shining a warm yellow light throughout the room. The seven tables were mostly for display; only about six people sat at each. I saw a mostly empty table and located myself at it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Ryder gesturing for him to come over. He was standing before a table filled entirely with the descendants. I approached.
“Mornin',” He said casually. “I thought it'd be best for you descendants to get to know each other. After all, you'll be training together.”
“What?” Finnian said, astonished.
“Yeah, you guys will be training together. Eva'll lead you to combat training after you're all done with breakfast.”
Ryder walked away, clearly not willing to continue the conversation. We all sat in silence, too awkward to converse. It was intended that we got to know each other, but we did nothing of the sort. Just as we were finishing, Eva came and led us down another corridor.
There were many doorways throughout the corridor, but we went through the first on the left. It opened into a large bowl-shaped room. Eva sat herself down on a wooden chair. She gestured to the weapons along the wall, but we all had our weapons anyway. I don't think many of us ever went somewhere without them.
“This is the training room, but it also serves as an arena, should we ever need one,” she began, “Its also where we hold the executions.” Shock rippled through the group. “I'm only joking. Combat training is essentially a free-for-all. Practice what you need to. Have fun.”
We all went over to a seperate part of the room and practiced our training moves. We swung our blades and fired our bows alone. “Why don't you guys pair up? Fight each other. Let's do a tournament style. You,” She said, pointing to Finnian, “and you,” She pointed to me, “You two fight. Everyone else, grab a seat and watch.”
The circle cleared as everyone sat down to watch, and I drew my blade. Finnian pulled out his epee and lunged at me. I averted his blade with a swift stroke, knocking it to the side. I tapped his chest with my blade. Annoyed that I had tried so hard in the first bout while he clearly didn't, he jumped back and lunged again. I could tell there was more effort to this slash, and I blocked. Flinching under the strength of his attack, I slid backwards and prepared for another attack. Looking up, I noticed with a jolt of surprise that Finnian wasn't in front of me.
Feeling a small change in the wind on my back, I jumped forward and twisted mid-air. He had poked the spot I had been seconds before with his blade, standing behind where I had stood. Crap. He's faster than I gave him credit for. Guess that's the only reason you'd use an epee anyway. Realizing that I needed more power, I flipped the switch and my blade came to life. Electricity sparked from it.
I lunged forward on offense, and Finnian, realizing what was happening, went on defensive. He hopped sideways as I slashed, barely dodging. I directed my sword at him, and he blocked it. His arm flexed under my blade, and he pushed the weapon away. We began to slash at each other in a flurry of metal, and I glimpsed that Ryder had walked into the room.
We continued to clash until I felt contact. I heard the shock, and Finnian jumped back, grasping the arm I had lightly cut. He pushed away the pain and attacked again. Shocked, I stumbled backward. He slashed at me, and I had too short of time to block. Guess I gotta use it. I tapped my chest plate, and a disk emerged from the surface, spinning. His epee bounced off the defensive tool, and he fell backwards. I cut a small part of the other arm, and the shock kept him on the ground.
Ryder, amazed at what just went down, rushed forward as Finnian got up. “What just happened?!”
I pointed to the chestplate, which was no longer spinning. “Its my new device. I'm gonna hook it up to a BUD switch so when it gets hit, it immediately begins to spin. Spinning disks deflect attacks better than anything. I'm working on a full suit right now.”
He stared with his mouth open. “How long does it take to make those? Can you make more?”
“I can, since it doesn't take long, but it probably won't work well for most people. If you want, I can make a unique weapon and armor set hooked up with some redstone device for everyone that matches their style.”
He looked so excited with the idea that I assumed he meant yes. I began, right then and there, to plan for the tools.





User avatar
11 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 441
Reviews: 11
Tue Nov 08, 2016 4:09 am
View Likes
JustJasper says...



Elora


Brinley followed me in to a basic stone room consisting mainly of two beds and a few other pieces of furniture. Nothing was unusual about the dorm and I felt very comfortable for a change. I flopped down on the nearest bed and observed Brinely place her things on the other bed. Not one for small talk I nodded to her and left to make sure Neo got inside. I quickly returned with him perched on my shoulder hoping that Brinely would be okay with him.
"What a beautiful bird!" She exclaimed as I entered our room.
"His name is Neo" I offered.
She stared at him in fascination as I assembled his perch from materials in my pack.
"Can he carry messages?" She asked.
"Yes" I answered reviewing my work.
"Sorry I didn't mention him before we agreed to be roommates" I apologized.
She brushed me off and sat down on her bed.
I took off my armor and unsheathed my knife planning to sleep with it again like always. I didn't trust these people yet.
Brinely stared wide eyed at me. I could figure out why until I realized my dagger was still visible.
"Sorry habits" I shrugged.
"That thing doesn't cut you when you sleep?"
"A little but at least I am safe" I answered carefully.
We sat in silence for a while until I felt myself drift off to sleep.
I awoke again in the middle of the night slashing my knife at the air. Calming down I wiped the tears from my eyes and sat up with Neo. He kept me company until dawn.
After an uneventful breakfast we were escorted to a bowl shaped room for training.
I chose two daggers similar to my own and practiced my skills. Soon however Eva suggested we fight each other. Eager to test myself I decided to fight with Brinely. A good fight could help me get to know her better.
Brinely chose to use an iron sword. She accepted my invitation and charged toward me ready to strike. I ducked around her and scratched her with one of my daggers. She turned quicker than I expected and jabbed me with her elbow knocking me to the floor. I sprung to my feet and blocked her sword. I allowed her to push me back nearly against the wall of the arena. A smile spread across the young girls face making me feel slightly guilty about what I was about to do. I turned and ran toward the wall doing a flip and kicking Brinely to the floor on my landing. I lay on top of her for a second then I rolled off her and stood up. She clambered to her feet and resumed swinging at me. I narrowly missed a few of her blows.
I stopped her attacks with my daggers and swept her legs out from under her.
She was very strong but had much to learn about strategy. It turns out I had to practice my technique more too because she recognized my pattern and knocked me to the ground. I managed to roll out of her way and lightly cut her arm. Soon enough we called our fight a draw and sat against the wall to catch our breathe.
"Nice job you two" Ryder called.
"Thanks!" Brinely shouted in return.

I think I'm going to like it here.
Why do we capital-N Nerds love Mars so much?
Because it's beautiful, it's tough, it's buried in our mythic, childhood memories.
It's covered with human triumphs but also with sad stories of failure.

-Greg Bear





User avatar
62 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 0
Reviews: 62
Sun Nov 20, 2016 8:15 pm
View Likes
AnarchyWolf says...



Finnian Edward Ignatious



I pick myself off of the floor, muscles stinging from the shock, as Ryder fawns over the cheater, spouting cow's poo about the invention. Blood drips miserably down my arms. I pick up my epee and limp to the edge of the training area - I don't even try to hide it anymore. All I want is to go back to my room and cuddle Ted, bandage up my arms, and have a nap. I want to have a shower and wash off the humiliation.

Anger bubbles up. Doesn't he know that fights are contests of skill, not cunning? Doesn't he know that a fight with an epee is something to be taken seriously and treated with respect? I drive the end of the epee into the wall repeatedly, digging chunks of it out and onto the floor.

Whenever I sparred with my father, before my talent surpassed his, we'd always draw. Even when I was young and still learning, we'd draw. As I got better, he'd miraculously grow his skills to match mine enough to draw - or, at least, it had seemed miraculous when I was young and stupid.

Ryder won't stop talking. It's getting a little annoying - how much does one guy need to talk about one method of cheating? Good lord. It's not like I hate Ryder that much... I actually doubt if I hate him at all. I think for a while longer, and come to the conclusion that no, I don't hate Ryder Salvai. It's a nice, but strange, change, considering that I dislike almost everyone else here.

I edge over to a training dummy and stab it through the chest with my epee to try to take my mind off of it. I may or may not be imagining stabbing Iron Greywood to make myself feel better.

I glance over at them again, continuing to slash at the dummy until the session's over and people start cleaning up their weapons. By this time, my arms are caked in dry blood and I'm ready for a either a nap or a ride. However, if I remember the schedule correctly, I'm not going to have either very easily.

I sit down and feign cleaning my sword. I don't make eye contact with any of them - especially not Ryder or Greywood. My plan? Stay here until they're all gone, and then go back to my room and take a shower and have a nap.

Now I just have to wait.
Last edited by AnarchyWolf on Mon Nov 21, 2016 10:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Don't resist the water. Welcome it.





User avatar
58 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 12
Reviews: 58
Mon Nov 21, 2016 4:19 pm
View Likes
JuliasSneezer says...



Brinley turned to Elora, her face flushed, panting. "Dang, you're good!" She held up her fist in invitation.

Elora frowned, but she returned my fist bump, albeit stiffly.

Brinley smiled a bit, and turned her face away so Elora couldn't see. She was shy, and paranoid. That much wasn't difficult to see. But Brinley made a solemn vow. Perhaps the two of them wouldn't be best friends, but she would try and get Elora out of her shell a bit. Brinley could already tell that Elora was the sort of person that she wanted to be friends with. Now how?
"When in doubt, improvise!"
-Winny the woodpecker





User avatar
590 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Nonbinary
Points: 1234
Reviews: 590
Tue Dec 27, 2016 5:12 pm
View Likes
Mageheart says...



RYDER SALVAI



As the descendants of Steve and Alex left the room, he cast one last glance into the training facilities. He was immediately glad that he had done so; he spotted Finnian sitting with his back turned, seemingly cleaning his sword.

Trusting that they could find various places in the base, he reentered the room and walked over to Finnian. “Hey,” he simply said. The teenager continued to clean his sword. Ryder peered over his shoulder at the weapon in question. From how clean the blade already was, Ryder knew it was an excuse to avoid the rest of the new recruits and most likely himself.

He felt a pang of guilt. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was because of how he praised Greywood's technical abilities rather than reprimanding him for his sudden usage of redstone gear against someone armed only with an epee. He sat down next to him.

“I'm sorry about earlier,” he awkwardly began. Ryder could lead a resistance. That was easy – all he had to do was give orders to people. Usually, they didn't talk back. But a one-on-one conversation? That was an entirely different story. It was hard enough when the person actually liked him. Something about Finnian made him harder to talk to, and Ryder was almost completely certain that it wasn't his personality.

“I was just really excited because we have basic tech for the Resistance; Greywood's gear was something we've been in need of for a long time.” He didn't meet Finnian's eyes. It was easier that way. “I'll talk to him later about it. Though Notch's forces won't always play fair in a fight, it still wasn't right for him to surprise you like that.”

He snuck a glance in the boy's direction. Finnian appeared to be doing the same thing, and the two quickly looked away after doing so. For some reason, Ryder's face felt warm as he continued speaking. “You have a lot of talent with your epee. I admire anyone who is a good swordsman; you wield your weapon like it's an extension of you. I knew someone like that once, and he was the best fighter I have ever met in my entire life.” He got to his feet. “I, uh, need to go talk with Eva about something. I know we didn't talk long, and I did the talking, but I enjoyed speaking with you.”

He rushed out the room, nearly stumbling as he made his way down the hallway. Understanding was beginning to dawn on him, and he didn't know if he could handle the realization that suddenly came crashing down on him.

There was no doubting that he had a crush on Finnian.

It had been a long time since he had felt that way, and back then – like now – it wasn't a good time to act on those feelings. Get a hold of yourself. Getting flustered would get him nowhere, and he did need to discuss Greywood's technology with Eva. Thinking about Finnian would have to wait.
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





User avatar
62 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 0
Reviews: 62
Wed Jan 18, 2017 11:52 pm
View Likes
AnarchyWolf says...



Finnian Edward Ignatious



I listen to Ryder speak, trying my hardest to keep my eyes away from his face - though they slip once, awkwardly, at the exact moment he's looking at me - and trying not to do anything stupid. I nod and offer a small smile as he compliments my fighting. He blushes before he leaves, making a hasty excuse about going to talk to Eva about something.

I smile to myself after I'm satisfied that he's gone. Talking to him - or, rather, him talking to me while I sat there stoic like an idiot - was a nice reprise from the others. I'd have to talk to Ryder again sometime, since it's put me in such a good mood. I get up, still grinning, and begin to make my way back to my room.

I stop. My smile fades as I realise something far from reassuring. It's something bad, something that could jeopardise not only my dignity, but my pride. My heart skips a beat like a giddy spring lamb just to think about such a situation. I like Ryder.

I like Ryder in a way that surpasses friendship.

I push the thought away, suppressing it with all of the ease of swallowing a mouthful of live, writhing spiders. The more I try not to think about it, the more I do think about it. I walk faster, as if I could outpace the realisation.

Before I know it, I'm back at my room with Ted's paws on my chest as he tries to lick me. His tail thwacks too and fro and he whines happily, finally standing back on all four paws as I grab his lead from the wardrobe.

To hell with the timetable. I'm going for a walk and no timetable is going to stop that. Ted drags me down the corridors, following his nose eagerly as he gets to grips with his surroundings. I tug him towards to door , trying to persuade him not to relieve himself inside, but stop when I hear voices. They're too far away to regocnise, but the low murmur of threat and human whisperings was unmistakable.

It's my turn now to drag both Ted and my bad leg along to the door, fumble with it before I open it, and to hide around the corner with my chest heaving. I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing at this particular time, but I'm not fond of the idea of being discovered not doing it.

Ted nudges me.

"Oh." I remember, reaching down to unclip his lead as I keep an eye on the surroundings. "Right."
Don't resist the water. Welcome it.





User avatar
40 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 2320
Reviews: 40
Thu Feb 09, 2017 10:07 am
View Likes
TinkerTwaggy says...



Kysaline – Project 4:


Putting the B back in Beware!



Part 1: Curse that family




Greetings, my dear Hojrod!

Yes, as you can read, I've upgraded your nickname to two syllables and took the opportunity to make it a bit more original. Don't fret though: I still recall your actual full name, and I do not consider you as a puppet for my entertainment.
I realize that you don't care about any of this, so I'll switch subject right now.

Have you recovered nicely? You don't share my views on pain and entertainment at all, so I at least hope that the battle we shared was a refreshing experience on your side too. I assume you are doing well indeed, since you were in high enough spirit to send me a provocative letter. I… Am unsure as to what the point of that was, aside appearing more childish to my eyes, but I don't really mind. Nor do I mind that gun of yours – after all, bringing a second weapon in a fight means using it at some point, so I could easily argue that the tie is still your fault for not doing so. Oh and by the way, you left me with quite the scar. I adore it and am treating it with care.
I realize that you may be annoyed by all of this, so I'll switch subject now.

This next part is… important. I will soon have a meeting with my family – they're all crazier than I am, if you can believe it – and the confrontation of my ideas with theirs will most likely be… fierce, to say the least.
The point is, after this meeting, there's something I would like to ask you, preferably in private, whenever you and the comrades I assume you joined come to my place. Speaking of, if you did join them, I hope you're having fun, wherever you are, and showing these maggots the strength you showed when you battled me.

Oh, and if any of the aforementioned “maggots” is reading this letter, then keep in mind that I'm only jesting. All of you have a great deal of courage to decide to abandon your life style only to join a hooded man and his beliefs. Cheers to you all. You deserve respect.
And no, Hojrod and I are not in a relationship, nor am I looking to be in one with him. Please. That would be cliché, uncalled for, not to mention rude to him.

Back to you, Hojrod. Excuse me for the length.

Once again, don't fret: this is a serious matter, and therefore not a scheme orchestrated to battle you again – we'll settle this later, assuming you'd be interested. I understand if you bring your weapons with you just in case, but know that I'll be unarmed during the talk anyway.

One last thing. Thank you. You may not realize how much entertainment is valuable to me, but that's exactly what you provided upon coming to my place. I won't excuse my wacky behavior, as it is in my nature and comes from my upbringing, but I am sorry to have made you needlessly grumpy. I don't expect you to consider me as anything else than a crazy annoying girl, but to me, you're an interesting fellow. And I thank you very much for being so.


May the wheel of fortune shine by your side.

Cordially,


Kysaline Margarita B.Ware (that second name sounds awfully normal, doesn't it?)


PS: if you haven't already, why don't you try practicing the Quick Draw skill I used on you? I dared to replicate your technology after all, so wouldn't it be more interesting if this battle was a trade? I hope you don't take this as an offense, as I simply believe that one should learn from whatever confrontation he or she has to deal with. I hope to have learned something from you rather than just your technology, too. I may need that once I face my family.

Take care, Iron Greywood.




Kysaline stretched in her bed, a satisfied smile on the face. It would definitely be fun to encounter Hojrod once more, even though battle wasn't in their schedule.

“Well, we could always dance.” Kysaline suggested to Beasnare, her favorite bird doll. “Though I doubt he'd accept. Oh, and there's Lumm, too! Maybe I'll finally get to see his face. Or battle him! He must be strong, traveling alone in Minecraftia to recruit people from all around the world to his cause. I wonder what his battle style is...” she lovingly cuddled her doll before looking at an alarm clock next to her. “Oh...” she whispered. “Look, Smiley Birdie! Clock say it's six in the morning already. Which me-e-e-e-e-e-ans...?” Kysaline gave an eager gaze at the nightstand next to her bed. A radio was posed on it, and its screen lit up after a few seconds, with an old-fashioned music playing. Kysaline got out of her bed and stood in front of the radio, speaking along with the announcer's voice.

Spoiler! :
phpBB [media]


...And now here they are!!
The most daredevil group of daffy drivers to ever whirl their wheels in the Wacky races! Competing for the title of the world's wackiest racer!


Leaving her doll on the bed, Kysaline took off with the radio and went straight for the door next to her bed, which led to her private bathroom.

The cars are approaching the starting line…
First is the Turbo Terrific driven by Peter Perfect!
Next is Rufus Ruffcut and Sawtooth in the Buzzwagon
!”


The presentation continued as Kysaline happily hummed to the music she knew by heart, closing her eyes to enjoy her morning shower. She couldn't help but sigh despite herself, thinking back on the letter she wrote for Hojrod. Like always, she didn't think herself ready to face her family yet again. Especially not her brothers. No matter how much she planned ahead, they always, always managed to startle and embarrass her in front of her parents. Was it because she was the youngest...?

...Sneaking along last is that Mean Machine with those double dealing do-badders Dick Dastardly and his sidekick, Muttley.


Kysaline's frown was replaced with a tender smile. Ah, those two...

And… They're off…! To a standing start. And why not, they've been chained to a post by Dick Dastardly, who shifts into the wrong gear!


“The wrong gear, huh...” Kysaline repeated, scratching her hair with her shampoo-filled hands. It was always amazing how much watching – or listening to – this show made her relate to Dastardly, and how easily she could compare her family to the Wacky Racers in general.
All of them, different yet similar. A ragtag group of madmen motivated by the same desire, willing to fulfill it with any mean necessary, including confronting each other. Morality, respect or familial care wasn't to be hoped here. It didn't matter where they were either: "home" didn't exist. Any place was good enough for their “show” to go on. That… Was Wacky Racers.
That… Was the B.Ware Family.

...They're about to reach the finish line! And they're neck and neck! It looks like it'll be a Photo Finish!


Did you say, Photo Finish?


Kysaline frowned. The Photo Finish…? So she had reached the end of the episode already.

...It IS a Photo Finish! The Red Max has reached first place, followed by the Creepy Coupe in second position, and the Buzzwagon in third! Oh, and can you believe it? Dick Dastardly actually stopped to pose for the photo! Ho ho, that big ham!


“You idiot...” Kysaline whispered, turning off the shower's water to stare at the white ground.

Of course. Wacky Racers would be nothing without the star of the show: Dick Dastardly. Oh sure, he was a villainous protagonist who schemed every episode and failed because of said schemes. But even the narrator liked him to an extent, and Dasrardly never gave up – a trait that was hard not to like despite the fact that he lost all the time.
But the racers didn't care and ignored his resolve, just like the B.Wares didn't care and ignored Kysaline's resolve. No matter how hard she tried to please them or defeat her brothers in whatever contests they took part it, she could never, ever please anyone but herself, and that constant feeling of doubt towering above her will didn't want to go away. What would make the coming reunion any different than the others? Even in verbal jousts, she always lost.

“My Heiress?! My Heiress, where are you?”

Kysaline raised her head. True, she had CePrim and his squad… But it wasn't the same as sidekicks. They didn't really understand her. But still… They were what she had for herself. Something she didn't have to share ever since she decided to move to Minecraftia. And there was something else in that world that was her and her alone. Kysaline violently planted her fingers in her stomach's scar, welcoming the pain with a devious smile. She was marked by this world, and unlike Dick Dastardly, she wasn't fighting against it, but rather using it to defeat a greater force. Things were different. Truly different.

“I'll beat you all this time…!” Kysaline whispered to herself. “So... Beware...”

“My Heiress?” CePrim called again. “Are you bathing? You missed an important call! It's from your friend, Rippla Konbaw!”

Kysaline's determined gaze was replaced by an excited one. “Rip called me?” she shouted from her side. “Bows and beaks, that's wonderful news! I'll get dressed immediately then head for the Communication Quarters. Oh, and CePrim? Please ask CeDos to send the letter on my bed to Hojrod. Usual procedure, of course. Find him wherever he is, and stay invisible!”

“Understood, My Heiress!”

Kysaline put a hand to her stomach and gently caressed her scar. “Well then.” she said to herself, feeling happier at last. On with the show!”


******



A loud beeping sound took over the small room Kysaline had locked herself into, wearing her usual dungarees as she sat down, waiting for the big screen in front of her to light up. Shortly enough, it did, and a familiar voice echoed inside the entire place.

“If I were to blow up, would you cry for me?” the feminine voice asked in a dramatic tone.

Kysaline smiled a put a hand to her heart. “Not in a million years, love, this gal's always on duty!”

A female figure appeared on the screen, a huge grin enlightening her tanned-skinned face. She was wearing a green hoodie coupled with dark green military pants and black boots. Around her neck rested a necklace with a fake black mustache at the end of it, and she feverishly moved her mid-long orange hair away from it.

“Here comes your favorite Creeper girl!” Rippla exclaimed, waving joyfully at Kysaline. “How's it goin', Kys?”

“So much better now that I finally get to hear your voice again, my dear.” Kysaline replied with equal delight. “And honestly, don't you think I am the one who should ask for your well-being? I don't expect you had the best time in that… What was it called? 'Special Establishment for Trigger-Happies.'”

Rippla rolled her eyes. “You can call it what it is, Kys: a nuthouse for nut jobs like me.”

“A nuthouse that I'm still glad I got you out of, Rip. But seriously, is your mind… clear?”

“Clear and peaceful, yes it is! Well, unless someone's dumb enough to detonate something outside of my working hours. Then… Well, y'know.”

“Right. So, CePrim told me you called earlier. Is there a problem?”

“Right! Uh, I was wonderin' if you were done workin' on your electric arrows, 'cause I think I'll need some of them for a, uh, personal intervention in a big mob's den.”

Kysaline frowned. “Well you know I'd never turn you down unless I had a good reason to, but… Aren't you working with miners? Your Kid Creepers are mighty enough to deal with any basic mob, are they not?”

“Okay okay wait, lemme be a bit more specific about this.” Rippla said, scratching the back of her hoodie. “So, I have a lil' business now, right? As you know, the Creeper Kids are just a bunch of tiny creepers I made up as walkin' bombs for miners to use to, well, explode stuff before they can mine. It helps uncovering a lot of materials and dealing with mobs, so you're right, that part is going well, and I'm now a, uh… 'respectable member of the society' or somethin'. But see the thing is, one miner uncovered a cave near his home and it's… Well it's full of Skeleton Archers and Spiders. We can blow up the spiders just fine, but… Too many arrows.”

“And you yourself rely on bombs as your main weapon too, so you need something faster to deal with that problem.” Kysaline guessed, nodding in approval. “Well, of course I'll help you!” she stared at her friend as a naughty smile grew on her face. “And in exchange…!”

“YOU DIRTY DEVILISH…! UGH I KNEW IT!” Rippla shouted as Kysaline laughed out loud.

“Well you know me, and you know my upbringing, so surely you saw that sentence coming.” Kysaline added, winking at her friend. She slightly grimaced, holding her stomach with one hand. “So as I was saying, in exchange, I'll need you to do something for me.”

“Shoot.”

“Can you work on a series of new traps for me? Well, that and a few more swords. Katana type, as you can expect, and coated with an electrifying Redstone material. I'll have CePrim send you the data on that after this call.”

“Wait… You want me to build you electric stuff?” Rippla exclaimed. “But… That's your specialty, Kys!”

“It is, but my team and I are unfamiliar with harnessing Redstone as a material, while you use it for your experiments every day. We need to analyze how you can do it first to have a better idea. It would also give us prototypes to test right away, and I happen to have fewer time to waste these days.”

“Oh. Uh… Can I ask why? 'Cause I mean you love usin' your time for experimenting too, so, that kinda sounds weird comin' from ya, fellow crazy gal.”

Kysaline sighed. “...I… may be happy to see you again, Rip, but I have another call to make after this one… In the Conference Room, that is.”

Rippla gasped. “Oh gosh. Your family.”

“Yes.” Kysaline confirmed bitterly. “My family. Or more specifically, my brothers.”

“Well then! You should've said from the start that this was to blow their minds with your amazing creations, Gadget Girl!” Rippla exclaimed, a new grin enlightening her face. “Cheer, up, Kys. Maybe this is where you'll finally prove them you're more than they think you are.”

Kysaline smiled along. “It's a shame you're not a boy, Rip. Mating with you would've been quite something.”

“Ugh, you make it sound like we're animals.” Rippla complained.

“We are!” Kysaline assured, childishly swinging her legs below her seat. “I'm a bird, and you're a rabbit.”

“...Why a rabbit?”

“Something about your agility… And well, that's just how my mind sees you.”

“Yeah, well, I'm not interested in children crazier than both of us, thank you.” Rippla replied, giggling. “And I don't think I wanna see anyone else going berserk any time they hear an explosion somewhere.”

“We don't know if that would happen!”

“Meh, don't wanna take the risk. And I mean, those children would be B.Wares, right? So, they'd have to go through whatever you went through with your brothers and all. Not sure how that would work.”

“It's not as bad as you think, to be quite honest.” Kysaline confessed. “Our schedules and habits are strange, devoid of morality and not always easy to perform at first, but I'd be there to support them. I, on the other hand, had no one but my caretakers. It's better than nothing, but it's not the same.”

“...Okay, point for you.” Rippla conceded. “So, shame I'm not a boy and we'll leave it there. Although... I'm a bit surprised you're not going all 'oh but we can still have fun even if you're a girl!' or something.”

Kysaline winked again. “No need, as that goes without saying, my darling. And I'm not talking just about mating here…”

Rippla frowned. “I… have issues, but you're really just a bad.”

“You insult me. I'm worse.”

Fine! You are. I'll go get mt Redstone now, I guess. And don't forget to send me the data, of course. Take care, Kys! And… Good luck.”

“You too, Rip. Don't forget to cover your ears out there, okay?”

Rippla waved. “If I were to blow up, would you cry for me?” she asked in a dramatic tone.

“Not in a million year, love, this gal's always on duty. See you later.” with that, Kysaline cut the communication and turned back, taking a deep breath. She walked out of the room. As she expected, CePrim and his entire team of masked butlers were waiting outside, almost encircling her with their presence.

“My Heiress?” CePrim declared on everyone's behalf. “It's… Time.”

Kysaline nodded. "The meeting is coming. As you know, my brothers and I have been launched in worlds analogous to this one only to build our own entertainment facilities. Tonight's meeting will most certainly be about our Entertainment Scheme Announcement, so we must behave as efficiently as possible. And by that, I mean more than usual, so cancel any personal affairs you lot had planned.”

“And what if the Family begins the usual banter?” CeTres asked, seemingly worried. “Not to sound offensive to you, My Heiress, but...”

“I know.” Kysaline admitted. “Barely possible to understand a B.Ware Banter when you're not a B.Ware yourself. Which means that you won't be able to make a proper report after the meeting. Don't worry about it, CeTres. I'll fill you all in this time.”

“Shall we run a last second test for the Gadget World?” CeQuint suggested.

“But of course! Everything must be as up to date as possible. And whatever happens, The Gadget World MUST be complete in the following weeks. I can handle losing for pointless struggles against my brothers, but losing in the Asterisk Craft Wars would be another story. Besides,” she added bitterly, “I must confess that you all would be in trouble too. Considering how much they dislike this world, I doubt that any of them would let it stand on its own if they win. Unless I manage to earn their respect.” Kysaline sighed. “Which, as you also know, is unlikely.”

The butlers looked at each other, their uneasiness growing by the second.

“And… What about you, My Heiress?” CePrim inquire. “You chose this world to prove them you could craft your Gadget World with any resource, after all. Do you think you have what's needed to defeat all of them? To… To win the Asterisk Craft Wars?”

“Hah!” Kysaline exclaimed, surprising her staff as she walked passed them, already directing herself towards her Gadget World's underground location. “I am dreadully sorry yet excited to say... That I have no idea.”
Last edited by TinkerTwaggy on Sat May 13, 2017 2:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Is there a limit to how much living I can live with my life? How will I know if I've gone too far?
And why did I spend my life savings on sunglasses for a whale?
I shall find the answers... to these questions."





User avatar
378 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Other
Points: 3775
Reviews: 378
Sat Feb 11, 2017 11:35 pm
View Likes
Omni says...



The White Hood



Traveling through the country with a whiny brat was much more difficult than anticipated. Of course, said whiny brat was tied up so she should have been minimal distraction. That was not the case.

Aquestioning had to go on her own for the next missions as the Bloodrunners watch over the girl, Clarice.

Each time she came back empty-handed, the group just shrugged it off and proceeded. But they knew, and she knew that. Normally, these batches of newly discovered descendents were quickly snagged up and prompty wiped off the face of the map to the public, but this time... either someone was doing Aquestioning's job for her --which was doubtful, as Notch barely trusted anyone enough to stand behind him, let alone go on missions ensuring his place as God-king over the land for generations to come-- or the tempting lure of the rebellion finally caught up to Notch's informants.

Honestly, Aquestioning didn't care for either of the options. The thought of someone doing her job for her? Well, that would be remedied whenever she actually got back to the palace. But, the thought of the rebellion actually gaining traction enough to be a headache... that would be dire news indeed to report to Notch.

The White Hood snuck back onto the wagon and slid the lock back on. One of the bloodrunners, the youngest, jerked his attention to her, then immediately bowed his hooded head. The others, including the blindfolded and gagged girl, were knocked out. After the bow, his piercing blue eyes studied her in understanding. Another mission to be reported as a failure.

That was the fifth one, supposedly either already in Notch's control or in Herobrine's. The latter was starting to be more likely. The Bloodrunner on watch shook awake his brothers. They moved soundlessly through the motions of getting the wagon back on the road. The sun was high in the sky, so hopefully no annoyances will be on the road yet.

Aquestioning set herself across from the kid, her rhythmic and heavy breaths the only noise in the cabin as it lurched forward. All five of the Bloodrunners were outside, as per the ritual. One leading the horses, one walking on each side, and one on top of the wagon to keep an eye out.

At least the major hitters in the world were still neutral and content, from the last she hear about it. If Herobrine managed to get someone like a member of the B.ware family on board with their cause, Notch would have right to concern and take action. For now, he wanted to let them play out their game, to gain false hope before he squahes it like one watches a worker ant from afar, struggling to bring a piece of a leaf back to the hive. You may put obstacles in its way, or flood its old path, but you would still let it try to reach its objection, right until the very end when you finally snuff out its light. Hope is crucial to obediance, he once told her. Too much hope, and a kingdom can be overthrown. Not enough, and it will wither away.

Aquestioning didn't agree with his tactics. Hope is a rock on the end of a very slippery slope, and if not taken care of, will topple everything Notch, and by extension Aquestioning, has worked for. She never cared for differing opinions; they suited her blades far better.

No matter what happened when they arrived at the sand palace with the news, there was one last person on the list before they completed the trip back to the sand palace. The White Hood nodded off to sleep, getting precious hours of sleep before the next mission. The girl across from her blurred and faded as her eyes shut.
This account proudly supports lgbtq* rights.

sass levels loading




[he/him]





User avatar
11 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 441
Reviews: 11
Sat Feb 25, 2017 2:48 am
View Likes
JustJasper says...



Elora

After training with Brinely I went back to our room to retrieve Neo who was perched on my bed frame. He had an evil glint in his eye making me hope that he hadn't gotten too bored waiting for me.
"Hey buddy" I said as I stroked his feathers gently.
He nudged his head into my hand and seemed to frown when I didn't offer him any food.
"Sorry bud I'm out" I said frowning.
"But maybe we can find something for you." I looked toward the door and signaled to Neo to perch on my shoulder. "Be good" I told him.
If we didn't behave we could be removed from the resistance. I was not ready for that. It was my duty as a member of Notch's army to find out what was going on over here. I should have alerted my comrades days ago but something about Ryder's story stuck with me. I shook my head to clear it. Too many disconnected thoughts. I sighed and walked toward the cafeteria, perhaps they would have some meat scraps. I encountered a short woman named Helga "cut that onion up" she barked in my direction as soon as I got within earshot. I didn't have a problem working in fact I expected it, but she didn't have to be so gruff.
I told Neo to perch in the rafters of the room. He better not move.
Then I followed her instructions. After a while she got a bit more chatty. "How long you been here cupcake?" She asked,
I masked my surprise at being called cupcake enough to reply with an even voice.
Helga nodded meaningfully "I've been here since the revolution began and I've seen a great many things but never an army officer." She sent a wink flying to me.
I chucked, "If you had told me a week ago this is where I would be I don't think I would have believed you either," I told her.
"All's well" she answered, "Ryder needs a good shove every once in a while. Sometimes I think a good kick in the pants would do him some good."

I laughed uneasily. Something seemed off and I needed to get to the bottom of it.
Why do we capital-N Nerds love Mars so much?
Because it's beautiful, it's tough, it's buried in our mythic, childhood memories.
It's covered with human triumphs but also with sad stories of failure.

-Greg Bear





User avatar
176 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 1983
Reviews: 176
Tue Mar 14, 2017 4:32 pm
View Likes
sheysse says...



Iron Greywood



Greywood put the letter down. Hmph. Interesting. He had not the foggiest what she wanted to talk about, but he figured he could find out if he convinced Ryder to let them go to see her.

He turned and walked down the hall, letter in hand. If Ryder said no, he'd just go on his own. If not, he might still go on his own, since this resistance thing was a lot more boring than he expected. Turning down the corridor, he came to Ryder's door. It was locked.

He gently knocked, and Ryder called from inside that he'd open it in a few seconds. Something fell. Footsteps. Latch unlocking.

"Greywood!" He laughed uneasily. "Come in!"

Greywood shook his head. "I don't need to. Look at this letter. Remember if you decide to let us go, I'll give you the bow I made that Elora girl, and finish all the other gear. If you don't, I'll likely leave anyway." He tossed the letter and walked away, leaving Ryder to contemplate.

When he again arrived at his room, he threw himself into the chair at his desk, pulled out a piece of paper and quill and began writing.

Dear Kysaline...



Dinner was awkward, as usual. No one was talking. The sound of silverware and chewing was the only thing breaking the silence. Ryder never showed up, so the rest of the resistance ate without him. The descendants had the table to themselves.

Finally, Greywood got sick of not talking and said something. “Don't you think it's weird that Ryder doesn't let us in his room?”

Finnian shrugged. “Probably wants some privacy.”

“But why not just say so?”

“Maybe he's hiding something,” Lazuli suggested.

“I don't think that's the case...” Brinley said.

“But how come he gets his own room, when we all have to share?” Lazuli added.

“Cause he's the leader,” Elora said, mouth full.

“Well, I think there's more to this story, and I'm not working under a mysterious person.” Greywood stood up and began walking away.

“Where are you going?” Finnian asked, not seeming to really care.

“To Ryder's room. I'm gonna find out the truth.”

Lazuli got up and followed. “Don't leave me out.”

No one else got up. They began to walk out on their own when Brinley jumped out of her seat and ran over. “I'm coming too.”

Elora and Finnian looked at each other, shrugged, and stood up too.


They stood before the door. It was locked. Greywood cautiously hit it with the hilt of his sword, and then again, harder. Finally, it broke off the door. Lazuli kicked the door open, and they all stepped inside. Ryder turned around, hands shielding his eyes and covered in black dye.





User avatar
590 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Nonbinary
Points: 1234
Reviews: 590
Wed Mar 22, 2017 11:36 pm
View Likes
Mageheart says...



RYDER SALVAI



The group's sudden intrusion into his room completely threw him off; he was unprepared for such a scenario. He had tried to prevent it from ever occurring. He had put it in the rules. He made sure that he never shared his room with someone. He had locked his door every time that he was alone.

But, when he was at his weakest, he had forgotten to lock it.

“Ryder...?” Brinley started, taking a nervous step forward. “Why are you covering your eyes?”

Elora asked, “Better yet, why are your hands covered in black dye?”

He glanced at the contacts lying on his dresser. There was no possible way that he could put them in without them growing even more suspicious of him. There was no way that he could explain why his hands were covered in black dye.

But he couldn't tell them the truth!

Everything he had built in the past few years would be lost. Notch wouldn't have to turn his new family against him like he did his last; it would be completely his own fault. He would be branded a liar and a monster. No one would trust him. The past was replaying itself, and he knew he was helpless to stop it.

“...Remember how I told you all that Herobrine had to be the good guy?” he finally asked, his voice quiet and monotone. He removed his hands from in front of his eyes. “I guess I'm a little biased.”

They immediately went for their weapons.

Quite honestly, he didn't blame them.

“Herobrine,” Finnian growled.

He nodded. “That's my real name.”

“You were dying your hair,” Greywood surmised, taking a step towards him. He didn't move; he was still their leader.

He nodded once more. “I was. I took my contacts out because I'm still not used to wearing them.” His gaze traveled from face to face. They looked hurt and betrayed, and even a bit mad. He would probably be as well if he was in their situation.

Lazuli stared at him. “...So was the Resistance just a way for you to throw your brother out of power and take control of Minecraftia?”

“It was never meant to be like that,” he whispered. “I never planned to take over...I just wanted to get my revenge, just like everyone else here.”

“Revenge?” Finnian scoffed. “What are you talking about? You were using us.”

He gestured for the group to enter. After a moment of hesitation, they all filed into the room. He closed the door behind them and made a sweeping gesture. “Please sit down,” he offered. “I doubt you'll want to trust me after I finish telling you my story. But I know that's all that I can do now.”
–––––––


“Notch and I never were close,” he began. It was a good starting point, and was the part that hurt the least to think about. “But we never hated each other. I was the recluse, and he was always in the spotlight. It was like that for a long, long time.”

The descendants all gasped when he created a small castle out of darkness in the air next to him. “I lived in a castle in the woods. It was just me.” Two figures approached the castle. “One day, two kids came to the castle. Their names were Steve and Alex, and they would become like siblings to me.”

“Wait just a second,” Brinley interrupted. “Legend says that they were the ones that tried to defeat you!”

He nodded. “The legend is correct. They did.” The castle became a miniature sword and a redstone circuit. “But before that point in time, they taught me. Steve was always better at sword fighting, while his sister excelled at redstone. They taught me their skills and how to interact with other people. It was probably the best time in my entire life.”

The two images shattered into tiny fragments of darkness. “But Notch had secretly been planning to make me a monster in the eyes of Minecraftia. He wanted to be the hero that all would celebrate and bow down before.”

The darkness reformed into three figures. The one holding a pickax mercilessly slaughtered the unarmed ones, who quickly fell to the flower in unmoving heaps. “Notch manipulated the light around him to appear as me when he murdered Steve and Alex's parents.” His voice caught in his throat. “So they tried to kill me for revenge.”

The two figures got to their feet. Suddenly, they were the merciless attackers, and the third figure was the unarmed victim. “The story quickly spread. Herobrine had killed the parents of his most dedicated followers, and a witch hunt began. It was Steve and Alex that found me with the help of Notch. I tried to tell them that I had no idea what they were talking about, but they didn't believe me. They were consumed by their hatred for me.”

The two attackers disappeared into nothingness as the injured fled into the woods that had suddenly formed. “I barely managed to escape. I was unable to hurt them...They were like family to me.” The figure ran into a cave. “I hid in a cave. Knowing that I was far too weak to do anything, I went to sleep to heal myself. Notch never cast the spell, and never found me. He still believes that I'm asleep somewhere, regaining my energy so I can fight him.”

The darkness disappeared.

“That's my story,” he simply said. “You can believe it or not. You can leave and tell everyone, or you can keep this secret. You can run off and tell Notch, or remain loyal to the Resistance.”

There was a moment of silence.

“It's completely up to you.”
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





User avatar
223 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 282
Reviews: 223
Fri Mar 24, 2017 11:09 pm
View Likes
Kelpies says...



Lazuli Ghastbane



As everyone reached for their weapons, I appraised the situation. We were all here to fight Notch, or at least in pursuit of the truth- I didn't see why this had to change anything. So what Ryder was actually Herobrine- Notch's nemesis, supposedly the most evil person ever to exist? He had done nothing to harm us- he had even given us the option to run to freaking Notch, which would compromise his position by sabotaging the element of surprise just for our comfort.

"I don't know about you guys." I began, "But I came here to kick Notch's ass, I don't see why this really changes anything. Can you blame Herobrine for disguising his identity? Had he revealed it- not only would that reduce the likely hood that any of us would have followed him in the first place, but it would have also increased the probability of any of us ratting to Notch after first meeting him, taking away the element of surprise along with any chance he had."

I walked across the room so I was on the same side as Herobrine.

"Herobrine has shown us nothing but kindness, and I don't know about you, but what has Notch done for you? You're either rooting for one or the other, you can't be neutral for long- because you're going to get caught and then you'll regret it. This. Is. War. Or at least it will be. What side are you on?" Ryder- I mean Herobrine- looked quite grateful.

"You talk an awful lot." Grumbled Finnian.

I bit back a cutting remark. "There are things I find worth saying."
We are who we are, and if someone has a problem with that; that's their problem not ours.
***
I do believe that insane is the only way to go.





User avatar
378 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Other
Points: 3775
Reviews: 378
Tue Apr 11, 2017 12:48 pm
View Likes
Omni says...



The White Hood



Nighttime always unnerved the White Hood.

Aquestioning scanned their surroundings as the wagon lurched to a halt. The Bloodrunners immediately set to work, angling the wagon to cover them from one side as the heavy foliage and gigantic trees that scratched the sky prevented any nasty surprises from the other side.

With the horses hitched and a blaze started, the Bloodrunners settled in for the night.

One of them came to rest beside her atop the wagon. Taking his hood off revealed a scarred and tanned face with gaunt edges and crevices. The man sighed and squinted at the night sky.

"It's unlike you to set up camp like this, Aquestioning."

If it were any other person, Aquestioning would have had a knife to their throat before another word was uttered. Instead, the White Hood was relaxed and put a hand on the man's shoulder.

"We need our strength for what comes next, Dorovan."

He frowned. "Thought what came next was a simple cargo drop. We collected our cargo, what little it may be, the next stop should be Notch, right?" He swiveled to Aquestioning after her silence. "Right?"

"You know my stance on information, Dorovan."

The Bloodrunner sighed. "Well, whatever mission Notch has you on, you have my support
and the support of all Bloodrunners, like always."

Aquestioning nodded as the familiar sound of zombies spawning filled the solemn night. They were safe, for the moment at least.

Dorovan coughed. "Speaking of cargo, what will be done of her, if not being brought to Notch?"

They both shifted their attention to the prisoner. She sat near the fire, still tied but not gagged as another Bloodrunner prepared food. He was the youngest addition to their ranks, and the youngest of them in age by far. As he prepared a broth for the prisoner, Aquestioning realized the two of them, Bloodrunner and prisoner, weren't that far apart in age.

"She will be valuable in the success of my plans." She hesistated. "Is Panli able to feed her? To do what we could not?"

"Surprisingly, yes. Although, maybe not that surprising. She has gotten weak in her resistance."

"She didn't with you," she said, amusement in her voice.

Dorovan absentmindedly rubbed his bandaged hand. "Yes, but malnourishment breaks even the strongest of wills." Panli, the Bloodrunner, held the bowl to the prisoner's face. She glanced at the bowl, then turned away. Panli grabbed her chin and forced her to face the bowl. She forced her mouth shut for a few moments, but the allure of susistinence broke her. She opened up and he slid the warm broth in, giving time every few moments for her to swallow the food.

Aquestioning looked on as this continued. "It's impressive, at least. The ability for your mind to overpower your body for that long." The White Hood was silent for a moment as she pondered the situation. "She was trained by her father, did you know? The one I was sent for, but... I believe she would prove far more valuable than her father ever could have been."

She sighed, leaning against Dorovan. As if automatic, he laid a hand around her. The duo just sat there in a moment of rare calmness. "It's a dangerous game we play, Aquestioning. We call it cargo, but maybe we should call them what they are: liabilities for Notch."

"People with power are, aren't they? Although Notch views these dangerous enemies as potential allies. No matter what, this is our job for him. We are here to provide game changers in the tide of war." She separated from him. The false illusion of a moment was over. "Tonight, we might grab the game changers of game changers."

"Tonight?" Dorovan perked up. "I knew there was more to this time off than you let out."

Aquestioning nodded. "Notch wants results. We're gonna give him some." She gestured to the dark jungle biome ahead of them. "Have you noticed something different about these woods?" Dorvan shook his head, his hood returning over his head. "There are no mobs spawning there. Do you know why?"

"No, but I'm sure you're gonna tell me."

"They don't dare spawn in Nightstalker territory."

~~~



Tangled vines fell quickly to Aquestioning's blade as she led the way, dagger in one hand and torch in the other, through the dense jungle. Dorovan, the head Bloodrunner, marched alongside her. Two forced the prisoner, Clarice, ahead, trailing behind the group, with the last two ahead and behind them. Panli, the youngest, trailed at the end as their caboose bodyguard.

A flash of fire illuminated the giant living skyscrapers above, painting stark and incomplete shadows down on the crew below. Rain pattered the enormous leaves adorning the jungle's limbs, draining down to the ground below.

Dorovan growled, pulling out a scimitar. "You say there are no mobs in here, White Hood, but the seemingly animated brushes make me inclined to disagree with you."

Aquestioning flipped her blade, cutting clean through a root as thick as her forearm. "Why do you think mobs don't spawn?"

"Because of Nightstalkers, I'm not that old!" Lightning cracked through the midnight sky and thunder boomed and rumbled around.

Another strike illuminated the group in a split second. "And what are Nightstalkers?" Aquestioning roared over the commotion. Another strike casted pale light against the midnight of her hood.

"Stalkers of the night?" Another strike, and an unearthly screech mirrored it.

A welp and a whimper, and their last member vanished in the foil of jungle and darkness. Fear rippled through the ranks of the Bloodrunners and they slowed to a halt. Rain and sweat mixed beneath the hoods of the initiates holding Clarice.

Another strike. Figures darted down from the thick and soiled foliage with hisses and howls.

Clarice rammed her right jailor into a behemoth trunk and kicked the one to her left in one fatal moment. Their two torches hit the muddy earth floor and sputtered to non-existence. Hitting her shackles against the tree, she loosened them enough to slip one wrist out.

She slid and tumbled in the darkness as a cacophony of noises battered at her ears. Torches darted in out and out of her blurry vision as clanks of metal against wood against bone cracked through the commotion.

Shuttering breaths escaping her, Clarice heaved herself back up to stare directly into the drenched White Hood. Shrieking, she stumbled back, but it was too late. In one simple swoop, Aquestioning had a knife to Clarice's throat and torch in front of them. "Stop, Nightstalkers!"

Her voice carried clearly around her. "Stop! We come in peace."

A hiss and a gurgle spattered back. "You say peace, but your past speaks differently, White Hood."

"Witches, we mean you no harm. We come to trade."

"And what," the disembodied voice from the shadows bit back, "would we possibly want from you?"

Aquestioning tightened the blade to Clarice's throat, oh so lightly cutting the flesh of her neck. For a split second, just a second, the blood glinted next to her blade something unnatural.

There was glee in the White Hood's voice as she spoke next. "A prisoner." Clarice's eyes grow wide.

~~~



Blue-green torches hung from the pristine walls of a cathedral-like chasm. Aquestioning and the worn-and-battered group were led by pike-point into the massive building.

Blue fire altars ringed the back, setting stark shadows and eery colors across the back of a witch. Her headdress cradled her skull with endless spikes and curls of hair. She stepped forward as the group reached the base of her stairs, the light dimly revealing her growl.

"White Hood, you are not welcome here."

The head assassin stepped forward to counter the witch, her hands wide. "Moavrik, your kind words are more than enough welcome for the Right Hand to the God of Light and Order, are they not."

An even deeper scowled etched its way down Moavrik's cheeks.

"Your 'God' knows his place here."

Aquestioning gestured in mock hurt. "Oh, Moavrik. Of course he does." Her tone lowered threatingly. "Do you know yours?" Pushing past a servant-guard, she stabbed the ground with her knife, the stained blood on its edge tinting purple against the blue flames. "Listen, Moavrik, as much as I love pleasantries..." she shrugged nonchalantly, "okay you got me, I don't. So, I'll get to the point. Notch, your savior and forever-protector, has enlightened me that you are in his debt. I am cashing in that favor."

"The Nightstalkers owe favors to no one Especially Notch!"

Aquestioning let out a highly audible sigh, swiveling slowly. "Very well, high-witch. I will let my superior know that you refuse his support and protection, and have come to terms with a long and painful death as news spread of your insubordination. As you well know, there are some very nasty covens kept at bay by his word and his word alone." She turned to Moavrik. "How are your defenses? I'm sure you have mastered all the old secrets, right?"

Moavrik crossed her arms, veins potruding from her temple. But she sighed and motioned. "What. Do. You. Want."

"I'd like to offer a trade. Something worth your time, I hope. Oh, also an army."

Moavrik roared, hissing and scratching the pillar next to her. The thin monolith looked like a scratching post for when her temper got the better of her. "The witches will never fight with you. We have made it clear long ago we will not indulge in Notch's childish games and be tossed around like flies."

"Moavrik, I'm hurt." She grasped at her chest. "Of course I would never ask you to break treaty law and join my side. No, no, I heard from a little --god-like-- birdy that this coven in particular holds a powerful secret." She shook her head. "You know I don't like secrets being kept from me, Moavrik. Secrets are deadly, especially for people who aren't... well, me." She picked up her knife, levelling it at the witch. "No, I don't need your numbers; I need your spell."

Movrik narrowed her daggers for eyes. Both of them knew Notch held the coven's life in his hands. Without the god-king, they are nothing but dust and dirt. She motioned to a with flourish to several witches hiding in the corner. "Make preparations.

"And, the trade you are referring to, oh holy Blade?"

"Notch knows you have captured a young with of another coven. That, as you know, is forbidden under his law. But," she said, "he will turn the other eye on your wholly apparent disobedience if you relinquish the with to our custody."

The witch's next words were barely audible. "I am tired of these constant threads thrown our way." Her voice escalated and her breathing quickened. "We are witches! This law he puts on us goes against natural witch order!" At this point she was at a seething, spittle flying everywhere. "What we do is our business, not his!" The blue flames behind her flickered from her power and emotion.

"Perhaps so, Moavrik. I am not here to ffight --although I am not opposed to that, if need be-- so let me offer you a compromise, a trade."

A witch cleared her throat and whispered something in Moavrik's ear. Her brows furrowed. "I don't see who you could possibly offer."

Clarice is pushed forward by Dorovan.

"Your witch for this slave-warrior. You will also stay under the protection of Notch."

Moavrik considered and sniffed Clarice's presence. "She will do. We accept your offer, but you will only get the witch after our safety is assured. That is, once you are out of our halls and our lives."

Two slave-guards rough armed Clarice to the dungeons. Her screams echoed around the dome until it abruptly stopped.

Moavrik drew in a deep, shaky breath. "Aquestioning, the ritual preparation is complete. Now," she let out, almost sobbing, "you will become master over all mobs. White Hood, your enemies are now... your servants."
This account proudly supports lgbtq* rights.

sass levels loading




[he/him]





User avatar
378 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Other
Points: 3775
Reviews: 378
Tue Apr 11, 2017 12:49 pm
View Likes
Omni says...



Clarice Hayes



Clarice fell silent as the large door shut behind her, separating her from the Bloodrunners. She needed to think fast as the two servant-guards half-led, half-dragged her through damp and dark halls.

She needed to make sure Aquestioning and the other Bloodrunners didn't mistake her as one to escape . Now that she's out of earshot, there was no reason to yell and shout.

Every few hundred feet, a gated window let in fresh air to what seemed like a naturally underground part of the coven. Dirt mounds covered each side and a steep drop ensured no escape from those sides.

Honestly, Clarice didn't mind the rough-housing of her escorts, as it gave her full access to inspect her surroundings. It was better to save her strength than to fight or struggle these captors. Finally you use your brains instead of your brawn, Clarice, she chided herself. The escape attempt during their trek in the jungle was foolish, but something even more foolish...

Her stomach growled and complained for her foolish incompetitence after she was captured. Looking bad, it was truly foolish of her to not eat when it was offered to her by Aquestioning or her lackies. Not every captor would be that respectful, and it looked as though this coven would prove that to be true.

It was a childish impulse, to think that starving herself would somehow avenge her family and act as some kind of brilliant rebellion against her kidnappers. Now, it just left her weak and with an empty stomach.

If she was ever in a similar situation, she would make sure to do whatever she could to reserve her strength for a possible escape. No more childish inclinations, no more useless personal rebellions. That is, of course, if I ever leave this place. This place looked as if it didn't get much activity at all, which either meant not many people entered... or not many people left.

Whatever happened, Clarice was damn sure she wasn't gonna spend the rest of her life a slave to this coven's biddings. Right now, she couldn't see a plausible way out, not to mention actually fighting free from the two much larger and stronger guards even if she did. So, the waiting game was the only one she could do.

Suddenly, the hall curved and sloped steeply downhill. A stench filled the air of long-decayed flesh, blood, and something even more sour --perhaps bile or piss.

They arrived at the dungeons.

Clarice was half surprised this coven even had a dungeon. Most of the tales she heard of witches painted them as little more than a mindless mob, throwing spells and potions and curses at any unfortunate soul who happened to venture too close. But these witches... they were an actual tribe with customs and powerful spells, powerful enough to draw the attention of Notch and Aquestioning.

Her musings were rather rudely interrupted as the guards dumped her into a cell and slammed the cage shut. Clarice rushed back up and slammed the door, roaring at the fading guards.

"It's not worth it, Vyaha."

"I know it's not worth it." Clarice slumped against the bars, focusing her attention at her new cellmates. A dark-skinned girl, not much older than Clarice, groaned as she stood from the wall. A bundle of cloaks piled the corner. "So, you're the witch then. The one they captured illegally."

The girl tilted her head at that. "I am a witch, yes. Illegal? Hmm... I know no law that forbids what was done to me." The witch swiveled to stare at Clarice. She squinted.

"What are you looking at, witch? Do I amuse you or something?"

"I am looking at... my successor."

Clarice grunted, breaking eye contact. If she wasn't still cuffed, she wouldn't have knocked all of the teeth from that girl's mouth. "I am not a witch."

The girl nodded in agreement. "That is true. You are the one they sent to replace me, though."

"Replace you? You mean the trade? How did you--"

"From a..." the witch hesistated, "a blackbird."

Wonder if they kidnapped her because no one else wanted her. Clarice rolled her eyes and stared back at the outside of the cell.

"You know, longing for the outside only makes not having it hurt more."

Clarice scoffed, "I'm not longing for it. I'm.. thinking."

"Thinking?"

"Yeah, of a way to escape this hellhole."

"Well then, let me help."

"There's no way--" she stopped. The witch had been nothing but respectful to Clarice ever since she stepped foot in the cell. She could at least listen to what she had to say.

"All right then. The name's Clarice."

"Navida. Listen to me carefully, Clarice, if you want to make it out of here alive."

~~~



Navida crouched and cut Clarice's restraints with a mutter and a few hits of a particularly pointy rock. "This important, Clarice. The ritual your previous captors are requesting from the Nightstalkers is something important indeed, both for her and Notch in general. She seeks the power of their ancestors. She seeks the power to control those who cannot control themselves.

"After the ritual they will come for me. My associate and I will feign no resistance until you find an opportunity to end him, with this." She fishes out a makeshift knife and folds Clarice's hand over it with her own, patting it twice.

"And who is this associate of yours? The 'blackbird'?"

Navida smirked. "Yes. He helped me devise the plan to escape."

"And can I talk to this blackbird?"

"You can, but you may not like when he talks back."

Clarice mulled this over. "Okay then." She stuffed the knife in a belt loop and folded her hands behind her, against the dank wall. Navida tied her hair back around itself and uncovered a racksack underneath a few rocks. "How did they allow you this much stuff?"

"They didn't. Illusion spells and imaginative tactics if they ever inspected this cell, which, even then, was rare. Most of the guards you see here have no magical capabilities; they aren't witches." After a moment, she muttered, "they're slaves."

"How did they capture you then? You seem so... wise and powerful, especially for your age."

Navida faltered. "There is much you still do not know about these things. They... they take us because they envy us. There is a resistance in us, a power that they will never know."

"In your clan?"

She chuckled. "No, Vyaha. Us. Dawnblood."

"Dawnblood?"

"Yes. The Nightstalkers have no Dawnblood among their ranks, not since Notch, your leader, raided their coven and crippled them, forcing them into his laws and his ways."

"And so your capture --?"

"--is just a small move in a much larger play of power. It was never pesonal, Clarice. Such is the way in the game they play, the game of war."

"The game of war?"

Navida's voice lowered to but a whisper. "People with power attact people of power. Have you ever wondered why you were just... better at things, Clarice? How things just came easily to you?"

Clarice was silent as she attempted to absorb the crushing wave of information sent her way. Her father trained her to fight, but never really explained why he was so adamant. He made damn sure she was taught by the best when she surpassed his abilities, first in the town they lived in, then to the reaches of Minecraftia and beyond.

She never really stayed with a teacher for long. Either she outgrew their teaching capabilities, were forced into the army, or "diseappeared". For the longest time, she thought that was the path she was guided towards.

Now, though? Why did her father even train her, if not for that? At this point she may never be able to ask him.

Her troubling thoughts were pushed to the back as Navida cleared her throat. "It's time."

Two sets of heavy footsteps flooded the once silent halls. Two servant-guards appeared from left and Clarice lowered her head, keeping them out of her vision as she focused on Navida.

"Let's go, witch." Her heart pounded in her chest cavity. Two guards presented limitless more problems than one. Honestly, she didn't know why she thought only one guard would show to pick up a witch, but now she had to deal with the prospect of fighting them both. "Don't try anything stupid, girl," one of them said as they unlocked the door.

Clarice backed up from the one entering the room, fake-whimpering. The other guard levelled a pike at her head, just out of her vision. Still, she kept her eyes on Navida for the signal.

"Get up!" The guard grabbed her shoulder and she clenched her first.

Clarice roared and pulled out the dagger, but someone else was faster.

A flash of cloaks jumped the guard nearest her, tackling him to the ground and a familiar-looking knife plunged into his neck. A gurgle, then silence.

Before the other guard could react, Clarice kicked the back of his knee, toppling him. With a quick thrust, in and out, the man fell.

The cloaked person stood and sheathed their blade.

Clarice squinted at the shadowed person. "You!"

"There's no time, Clarice! We must move... now!"

Clarice pointed the dagger at them. "No, I won't go any further until I know who you are."

Navida nudged her arm down gently. "This is blackbird. I trust him... you should as well, if you want to get out of here."

"But--"

Shuffling and shouting sounded from the distance, and two more guards rounded the corner.

The cloaked man charged at them, knives in hand. Sliding under the first one, he flung two blades into the chest of the second. Clarice sprinted to the the guard, screaming.

"Wait, wait, wait!" The guard panted. "Please. Spare me."

Clarice slowed to a halt. "Wait, what?"

Navida slid past her, gesturing her to lower the knife. "Allies can come from the most unexpected places. Your name?"

The guard lowered their weapon. "Cardamom."

Navida nodded knowingly. "Very well, Cardamom, servant-guard no longer. Help us."

~~~



Crack!

A grate flung open, water and grime and four people flew out into the stormy jungle below. Night enveloped them as they fell into the soaking foliage.

"Run! Just keep going!"

Panting, Clarice just followed her own advice and ran and ran. Each splash through the mud, each tumble over a large root, each unearthly howl or screech as the Nightstalkers lost not one, but all of their prisoners.

Somewhere around her, she could hear the pattering of multiple footsteps. Navida, Cardamom, the other prisoner, or maybe even witches, she didn't know.

A flicker of light in the horizion. Clarice's legs almost gave out, but sure enough they reached the edge of the jungle, soaked, trodden. Somehow the torches around the wagon were still lit, and the desert biome dry as a bone, like always. Clarice inwardly thanked the glory of biomes.

"How did we even make it out?" Cardamom managed between each breath.

"There are no mobs in the jungles of the Nightstalkers." Clarice responded, leaning against the wagon for support.

"True, but it is still odd." Navida looked around them. Growls split the silence of the night and the ground trembled. "The jungle may be free of mobs, but this place isn't."

A baby zombie sprinted to Clarice, clawing at her legs. Flesh scissored as it darted around her, taking jab after jab.

She howled, thrusting the knife into its chest. It only slowed the little beast down. "Get in the wagon!"

Several daggers spiraled from Navida's hands, finding their way into two creepers and they fell. They four scrambled to the back of the large wagon, shutting themselves in against the swarming mobs.

Panting, Clarice rubbed the now raw wound on her skin. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yes, I believe we're fine. That was fine chance, the wagon being here."

"It's the wagon of my kidnappers." Clarice leaned back in her seat. "That plan went well."

"Well, it should have." An all too familiar voice split through the shadows in the front of the wagon. "It was my plan, after all. " A white and black hood peaked out, planting a knife into the wood next to her.

Clarice reached for the knife at her belt --and immediately realized it resided in the zombie outside. She roared and charge to the White Hood, only to get caught and pulled back. She turned to see the mysterious prisoner rip off his hood. "Panli..."

"Is it clicking in your head, Clarice?" Aquestioning tilted her head. "I know it must be a little difficult to understand the deeper things, but even your thick skull would realize this."

Clarice bit back tears. "You used me."

Aquestioning scoffed. "You really are too selfish, Clarice. I didn't use just you."

"You used the coven. Hell, you even used your own..." she glanced at Panli's emotionless face, "lackies. This was just all to get what you wanted."

"Obviously." Aquestioning remarked.

Clarice's eyes scanned Navida. "Were you in on this, too?"

Navida sighed. "It isn't personal, Clarice. Such are the ways of this game we play called war."

Clarice exhaled slowly. "You should have just left me there, Navida."

"You would've enjoyed that, wouldn't you. No, no, we can't allow the Nightstalkers access to their ancestor's powers. They might become a headache to Notch."

"You mean the power you stole?" Clarice retorted, then realized what she said. "You-you're a Dawnblood, also?"

Aquestioning crossed her arms. "I am."
This account proudly supports lgbtq* rights.

sass levels loading




[he/him]





User avatar
176 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 1983
Reviews: 176
Thu Apr 13, 2017 2:48 pm
View Likes
sheysse says...



Iron Greywood



I stood outside the mansion used as the Resistance's headquarters. On my back was a small red shulker box, filled with all the trinkets I had created for Ry – Herobrine. Herobrine. I had the bow I created for Elora, as well as the set of plate armor I was working on, and the rapier I had started for Finnian. None of that gear was going to Herobrine.

I wasn't even against him for being Herobrine. No, I was leaving for a totally different reason. I dropped everything, my way of life, to go with that hooded figure. I believed I was going to help the world. I put my trust in him. Instead of trusting me back, he betrayed me. I had intention of following a liar to save the world.

Maybe this whole thing was a lie anyway, I thought as I traveled down the path back to Mineplex. Perhaps this whole thing was a selfish grab for power. I continued down the path until the city was in the distance, barely visible above the dark oak canopy. Stopping, I began to ponder what I would do.

Sure, I had left the Resistance. But Notch was a still a corrupt force ruling the world. Knowing this, I couldn't just return to life as I once knew it. That would be totally ridiculous. I thought this over for a while, before remembering a letter Kysaline had sent me, asking to meet with her.

I guess its as good a place to start as any.

~~~


The center of Mineplex was a wreck. Poverty lined the streets, illness wreaked havoc on the citizens. Now I could see the problem here – Notch was doing nothing to stop this. He turned a cold shoulder to the people of his land.

Notch was evil.

I hurried down the streets, trying not to make eye-contact with anyone. Before I went to Kysaline's place, I wanted to see how Elicia was doing. The stand was just around the corner. I approached the turn and looked down the street.

The world went silent. Only my heartbeat could be heard, and a deafening roar within my ears.

phpBB [media]


The stand was burning. The carpet roof was smoking, and the redstone creations were all overheated. The wooden borders of it were charred black and burnt away at the corners. Within the stand, a body was laying facedown.

I rushed forward and leaped over the burning wall. On the ground, Elicia lay, a huge burn wound stretched down her back. Rolling her over was difficult because of her bulky armor, but I did it. Her eyes were closed, but when she realized I was there, they opened a crack.

“So you joined the Resistance, huh?” She spoke quietly, in a way that sounded forced and in pain.

“Shh, stop talking. Save your strength. I'll fetch a medic,” I said, choking back tears.

She slowly shook her head. “You really are just like your mother. She never liked submitting to reality. Greywood, its too late for me. Don't waste your energy.”

“But-”

“No buts,” She turned her head to look at her stand. “I'm sure you know who the enemy is now. Look around, at Mineplex and its people. They are in pain. They are suffering. They have no power. You do. Use it.”

Behind me was a man in a suit, watching the scene before him. He stood silently, solemnly staring at Elicia's wounds and the burning stand. Elicia gestured for me to back away, and I complied. The mysterious man stepped forward and knelt before her.

She pulled a necklace out from around her neck and handed it to the man, whispering something. Then she pointed to a shield she had hanging in the back of her stand. It was still undamaged, and the man took it off the wall. He cleared the path for me to reapproach Elicia.

She looked me in the eye as I sat before her, crying. With all her might, she got up and hugged me. I returned the gesture, and we stayed like that for a long while. I whispered in her ear. “Please don't go.”

I waited for a response. “Elicia?” She said nothing. Her pulse was gone.

I looked up at the sky and screamed, a mix between a yell and a wail, while still holding her in my arms. The man behind me looked down at the ground, hiding his face.

Elicia had been like a mother to me. She was the only parent-figure I had had. And now she was gone.

Silently, I got up. I turned and walked slowly past the man, heading down the streets. I didn't know where I was heading, but I was heading somewhere. I kept walking, but the man was calling my name.

“Greywood! Wait!” He said. I continued walking. “I need to talk to you.”

I stopped and spun around at him, my eyes still red. “What?”

He held up the necklace. It was a silver chain with a pendant on it. The pendant was a red square with a white wave on it. “Elicia wanted you to have it. This pendant means you are a part of our organization, and will help us fight Notch's army.”

“No. I'm done with resistances. I want to go home. I want life the way it was. I won't join you,” I said, spinning back around and continuing to walk.

“Greywood! Life as you know it isn't coming back! Grow up!” the man began to passionately shout. “Did it ever occur to you why Elicia is dead? Because Notch knew she was connected to you, who was in the Resistance! This is your fault she's dead!”

I turned back to him. “Oh, this is my fault?! You're blaming me?!”

“Yes! Because it is your fault!”

Running at him, I slammed into his chest and knocked him over. Punch after punch he took to the face, but he said nothing. Tears streamed down my face as I attacked him, but he never showed any response. Finally, I stopped and fell on my knees in front of him. Face bruised from my assault, he stood up and tossed me the shield from Elicia's, as well as the pendant.

“Make it right. Join us.”

“Who are you?”

He smiled. “I am Jens. Elicia and your mother once worked in my resistance group. We are the best redstone programmers in the land. I am inviting you to join us.” He put his hand out.

I stared at his hand for a while, before making my decision. I put on the necklace, and I took his hand.

Another smile. “Welcome to Mojang.”








"The trouble with Borrowing another mind was, you always felt out of place when you got back to your own body, and Granny was the first person ever to read the mind of a building. Now she was feeling big and gritty and full of passages. 'Are you all right?' Granny nodded, and opened her windows. She extended her east and west wings and tried to concentrate on the tiny cup held in her pillars."
— Terry Pratchett, Discworld: Equal Rites