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Mea says...



Joseph Hayes



A descendent of Steve? So what? Joe eyed the intruders, his grip shifting on his sword. "How did you know to find me here? I don't exactly have a desk job."

The man who had spoken shifted his stance slightly. Joe noted that his hand had gone to his sword as well. To protect against mobs, or was there a more sinister motive at work? The man's face was hidden by a hood.

But the others... they he could read. Two girls and a boy, one of the girls barely older than 12-year-old Amy. The other two looked to be about Clarice's age. All of them were armed with a sword, or, in one case, a bow. Four against one... it wasn't promising, but the teenagers, at least, didn't seem hostile.

"Miner employment is a matter of public record," said the cloaked man dismissively.

"Fine," said Joe. "Why does it matter that I'm a descendant of Steve?"

"Because I need you to do something that nobody else could do." The man held up a gloved hand to forestall argument. "Please hear me out before you ask anything else."

It sounded like some conspiracy theory to Joe. But although mining employment was a matter of public record, it was damn hard to find, buried in hundreds of poorly-formatted books in some great library. This man had gone to some trouble to find Joe and speak to him... alone.

"I'll listen. But you're cutting into my work hours. I'll mine, you follow me and talk." And without another word, he stepped back down onto the level of his strip mine, readied his pick, and started mining again.

And Joe did listen as the cloaked man, the first of a single-file line that trailed behind Joe as he mined, spun a surprisingly short tale. It was the usual conspiracy stuff - everything you know is wrong! This time, it was that they were being lied to, that Notch had been evil all along and that Herobrine was actually what, good? The most amusing thing was, this mysterious man just stated it all like it was fact, hinting at evidence but never diving into specifics. Was this all he'd said to convince the other three? Even kids their age should know better.

The cloaked figure finished his rousing speech with a final question: "So, will you join us? Help us defeat this evil?"

Joe finished his poke hole before turning and looking at the figure. He let the silence strech out for a moment, then said, "No. I won't."

He tensed, ready if the man came at him. With the narrow mine, he might be able to take all four down. When it was clear the man wasn't immediately going to attack him, Joe continued.

"Why? Because I don't believe a word of it. All you've told me is a story, empty rhetoric. No specifics, no proof, nothing but grandiose statements. Notch's army protects us - unless you can give me proof otherwise, I have no reason to doubt it. The world isn't divided into black and white, and even if Notch was evil, what does it matter? There's plenty of corrupt rich people, and it seems to me he's not doing much harm or good. What would awakening Herobrine solve? And why the hell do you need Steve's descendants to do it?"

He avoided mentioning his family. If he was a descendant of Steve, then so were his daughters. More likely than not, this man knew about them already, but if he tried bringing Clarice and Amy into this, he was going to get a lot more than he bargained for. Joe faced the cloaked figure and waited for his answer.
We're all stories in the end.

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TinkerTwaggy says...



Kysaline – Project 2:


Picking on a cheeky brat with brio



Part 1: The Challenge




Timeline: Day 3



Kysaline rose her head. “You can enter, CePrim!”

CePrim, as it was indeed him, opened the massive door leading in Kysaline's personal room. A childish grin enlightened her face as she put aside the bundle of papers she was reading.

“And that makes thirty-nine right guesses against twelve wrong!” Kysaline exclaimed joyfully. “It seems my sharp hearing is getting better and better, wouldn't you agree?”

“Well, yes, I agree, but can I once again complain about the, uh… usefulness of this game?” CePrim asked grumpily. “Do you really have to try and hear my footsteps before I knock on the door? It's really hard to tiptoe around with this black mantle, y'know!”

“Maybe so, but my answer will remain the same as usual. I must train all of my senses so that they're sharp enough in the possible case of new assassin coming to this place, or in case I must battle against mobs too silent for me to hear. It's especially useful if I'm busy doing something else but must stay on guard.”

“...Well yeah, but… you're only really doing that 'cause you think it's fun.”

“True. It is entertaining, despite the fact that the reason I mentioned previously still holds. But we've been over that, you of all people should know that my mind isn't the sanest around. Now then, quit your complaining and get back to talking about work. You did secure the report I asked you to fetch for me, didn't you?”

“O'course I did, my Heiress!” CePrim exclaimed, retrieving a professional tone as he approached Kysaline's bed. He handed another bundle of papers to her. “There you go. The Myth of Notch and Herobrine, as well as the legend of Steve and Alex and their battle against Herobrine. You should also find a few pages related to what's known about the Resistance.”

“What's known about the Resistance?” Kysaline repeated. “You mean–”

“Outside opinion and inside opinion to let you have a more complete view on the matter, yes.” CePrim interrupted. “Not to be rude, but you almost insulted me there, my Heiress.”

“I'd tell you to know your place, but well, you've been doing this long before I was born.” Kysaline gracefully admitted. “Don't worry CePrim, I was just making sure.” with that, Kysaline took the papers from CePrim's hands and whispered a faint “Well done, CePrim” before ensconcing herself in her bed. She frowned and rose her head. “...CePrim? Forgive me, but why are you still here? Even for me, it would be strange if you stared me like that for an extended period of time as I read this report.”

“Um… No! No no, sorry my Heiress. I'll see myself out. Please enjoy the report.” CePrim hastily left the room, leaving Kysaline to shrug and begin reading the summarized version of Minecraftia's famous myth.

There is a story passed down in Minecraftia… A legend that every child grows up knowing.


Kysaline raised an eyebrow. Except her, apparently. She'd have to ask her parents why they never bothered to tell her about it, whenever they came back.

It is said to have happened centuries ago, thousands and thousands of years after the creation of the universe by the two gods, Notch and Herobrine.


The universe? Kysaline couldn't help but chortle at the phrasing. She knew that her family had implanted itself in many other realms beyond the reach of Minecraftia, so there was a high possibility that other deities had created other part of something as vast as “the Universe.” Or… maybe Herobrine and Notch were just two names used by the same beings and they were changed depending on who worshiped them.

There were two heroes. Brave heroes. Determined heroes. Just heroes.


Kysaline once again raised an eyebrow. She knew for sure that CePrim didn't write that way, which meant that he had quoted this. Apparently the writers of this myth hadn't ever heard about redundancy.

...Their names were Steve and Alex.


Kysaline had to stop several seconds to laugh out loud. Not that the names were ridiculous, after all one could argue that “Kysaline” wasn't the best name around, but they were so normal it was comical. Though entertained, Kysaline skimmed through the rest of the tale, gathering only the information that she deemed worthy of interest. Once that done, she got up from her bed and started walking around it, thinking about the myth and its implications.

I have no idea if Lumm's words are truthful, nor do I care. Kysaline began, organizing her thoughts as she walked. But I must remain informed about the events of Minecraftia to make sure that I know everything about Herobrine and Notch. Information is power. But what information do I seek?

“Resources.” Kysaline muttered to herself. “Minecraftia's resources and where to find them.” Yes. she continued in her mind. Minecraftia's resources. I haven't been to the mainland myself very often, and I have enough money to create my own little world. But if I don't understand where to find mobs and drops necessary for the perfected version of my Gadget World… It will never be as good as what my ancestors have already done. I need to be everywhere and meet everyone to perfect my knowledge of Minecraftia.

“And speaking of knowledge...” Kysaline said, interrupting her train of thought to gaze at the report in her hand and read about the Resistance movement.
According to what CePrim had gathered these past two days – Kysaline had to admit: he worked amazingly fast – the Resistance were an organized group mostly composed of civilians with limited resources and next to no power or experience once faced against trained soldiers. Said trained soldiers were the ones who mentioned these details and made them public, but there is still not much known about the Resistance from the outside's point of view.
From the inside, Little information is known as well, even for CePrim or anyone else he could send as a spy. They apparently lived in an underground base, but ever since their first real appearance three years ago, they haven't done anything that suggests any type of activity or clear motivation.
In other words, they knew how to hide, and how to avoid leaking their information.

Which means that if I want to know what's up with them, I'll have to get in touch with one of their members and make sure that I'm useful enough for them to trust me. Kysaline deduced. Her thoughts moved to Lumm's identity. Was he a member of the Resistance? Were they, like him, people who strongly believed that Notch was the true Evil One and that Herobrine was in fact innocent?

“Not hard to believe, with a name like Herobrine.” Kysaline couldn't help but comment. But if that's what they believe, then they'd have a very good motive to resist Notch's influence in the first place. And if this goes on… It's going to turn into a civil war, with Mineplex as its stage. Kysaline rubbed a hand on her head. That was why she needed to remain neutral. If she chose to support one side over the other, her entire Empire could become a target, or worse: a battlefield. And then, she'd lose everything and would have to start back to zero. But then, if one of them was aggressive from the start, being neutral wouldn't guarantee her safety. Which meant that she also had to find a way to please both sides, and develop a military power to make sure she'd be prepared in case of conflict. Her parents were certainly too occupied to even care about all of this, or they wished to test her ability to keep the Empire safe while they were away, so she'd have to do everything on her own.
Again.

Bows and beaks, I didn't sign for this...” Kysaline muttered, falling on her bed as she yawned, realizing that she had skipped several of her naps to work extensively on her Gadget World, its new mobs, as well as writing down the next step of her plans. If he discovered it, CePrim was going to get all worried again. She hated it when he was like that.

“...I need a distraction.” having said that, Kysaline rose from her bed, grabbed her weapons and went out of her room, a determined light burning in her eye.
Yes. She needed a distraction. Right now.


******



The sun was already high in the sky when Kysaline finally reached the Casino entertainment facility. During the afternoon ad all throughout the night, this particular facility was especially active, and although it wasn't the only one in that case, it encouraged gambles more than any others. After all, “A safe bet? There's no such thing!” was the facility's motto. Not that Kysaline cared, as she only wanted to see if she could fight in the arena. She speed-walked her way through the park separating each facility and followed the crowd entering the Casino.

“George!” Kysaline called when she entered. “George, where are you?”

“M-My Heiress!” the man named George finally answered, moving away from the front desk as he ordered another man to replace him. He quickly approached Kysaline, appearing slightly nervous in his white tuxedo suit. “I… I didn't expect you today, my Heiress. What brings you here?”

“George, this is your turf, would you please cut the formalities? Just because my parents appointed you as an entrance guard doesn't mean that it cancels everything else, I've told you that!”

“I'm sorry, Heiress. Old habits die hard.”

Kysaline smirked. “If that were true, you'd be greeting me with boxing gloves instead of this fancy suit of yours.”

George chortled nervously. “Not… Not always a wild beast, Heiress. We're not on the arena here.”

“I jest, George. But you still owe me a few punches after our last training sessions. That's for later though, I came here for a distraction. Please tell me another thug you haven't defeated yet is doing something he shouldn't, I wouldn't mind taking care of the problem myself right now.”

“...In your dungarees?”

“One more comment like that and we'll move the discussion to your suspicious lack of clothing whenever you battle opponents such as myself. There are light armors here, anyway. So? Anything interesting lately?”

“Well… There is one thing my guards were talking about...”

Kysaline followed George through the Casino's colorful layout as he explained that a young man had arrived like so many others in the casino, but that although he hadn't done anything wrong, he had the misfortune of meeting a bunch of greedy men who didn't like the fact that he was winning his bets and the money along with it. Then, they had the misfortune to find out that the youngster knew how to defend himself quite well.

“The fight didn't happen in the arena, as they attacked him straight away.” George continued. “So he used a strange sword, most certainly a customized model, to defeat them. Remarkably easily, according to my guards.”

“Mm. That'll do it. What's so peculiar about this sword?”

“Red in color. And apparently, one small slash from it and the men all fell on the ground.”

A bright smile enlightened Kysaline's face. “Bows and beaks, this case sounds rather thrilling. A mysterious youngster with a marvelous talent for battling and a customized sword that boosts his ability. I'm glad I came here. Is that him over there?” Kysaline climbed on an abandoned table to make sure that her eyes hadn't deceived her. Over the cheers of a newly formed crowd, a teenage red-haired boy was dodging the hits of a much bulkier-looking man armed with an axe. Three of his accomplices were abandoned on the ground, apparently defeated by the teenager. He wore a metallic chest plate as well as a shoulder plate, the latter of which was covered by a black jacket. If it wasn't for his serious expression and confident movements, Kysaline would've thought that another classic “bad boy” had stepped in the Casino.

“Fools.” the teenager said after a quick laugh. “I’ve been banned from most fighting tournaments. Do you know why? Because I’m too strong for them. I always won. Always. You just challenged the Redstone Champion, as they called me.”

Redstone… Kysaline thought to herself. It's a material. It's part of the resource list I read from CePrim's report.
Which meant that right in front of her was standing a first key to knowing how to use more of Minecraftia's resources instead of her own. And if she unveiled the secret behind the power of this Redstone Champion's blade, she could make her Gadget World's experimental mobs even more efficient.
With that in mind, Kysaline took an abandoned coin-shaped token next to her feet and climbed on top of a slot machine, faint memory of what she used to do when she ran around the Casino's lobby so many years before. She threw the coin on the slot machine on the other side, and a clear tinkle resounded in the air as the item fell on the slot machine, then on the ground. The Redstone Champion immediately turned his head, staring at Kysaline with a sharp gaze.

“Whoooo, it's Gadget Girl!” someone in the crowd shouted.

“Oh darn it, she's at it again?”

“Bloodbath incoming!”

Gad-get! Gad-get! Gad-get! Gad-get!

Kysaline swiftly interrupted the crowd chanting with a wave of her hand, looking down on her future opponent with satisfaction. The atmosphere she wanted had been set.

“I commend you for your victory over these pathetic worms, Redstone Champion.” Kysaline exclaimed, slowly clapping as an ominous silence struck the crowd below. “However, it is a shame that an innocent table as well as a few slot machines suffered from that fight. Which, by the way, should have happened in the arena that's right next door.”

“...And why do you care?” were the teenager's first words.

“I care because I consider this place my home, its people my family, and any rascal bold enough to break my beloved, noisy harmony is but another snail to squash under my foot.” Kysaline swiftly pulled out her crossbow and as her eyes locked on her target, she suddenly fired a bolt. After a brief rasping sound, the coin she had thrown at the teenager was pierced by her shot.
The Redstone Champion hadn't moved.

Either he's confident, either he saw that I wasn't aiming at him. Interesting.
“If you're the Redstone Champion,” Kysaline continued, “then I am everybody's Gadget Girl. I seek entertainment for both these people and myself, so allow me to challenge you to a Knockout Duel. In the Casino's battleground. Does that sound good to you, my dear?”

“What do I get if I win?”

“Double the money you've already gained. However, if I win… You're giving me your sword. Though if you're too scared to bet it, you can always give me the resources needed to build it. I'll take it from here.”

“Yeah, and let you copy my work? No thanks. You can take the sword if you win, but you won't be able to recreate it yourself.”

“They don't call me Gadget Girl for no reason, Red.” Kysaline retorted, earning herself cheers from the crowd. “Doubt my abilities if you like, it doesn't really matter.” with that, Kysaline jumped from her spot and landed on the ground, giving a provocative wink to her rival. “But enough talk, Red! Our crowd is waiting.”

“Don't call me that. We're not friends.”

“You're in my playground, Red. I do whatever I please in it, and you, like everyone else, have no other choice but to deal with it.” Kysaline turned her head towards him. “And for the record? I give names to anything that entertains me, be it friend, foe, or anything in between.” she ripped the bolt she had shot on the ground and spun it around her fingers. “You're already entertaining, so stop complaining and follow. We have a schedule to keep, do we not?” having said that, Kysaline walked past the slightly destabilized teenager and climbed a set of stairs at the edge of the room, while George guided the crowd to another part of the Casino, where they'd be able to assist the confrontation between the two teenagers. After a long climb, the two reached a corridor that divided itself in two, which each path leading to one entrance of the arena.

“I'll take a light armor just in case.” Kysaline announced cheerfully, still smiling at her grumpy rival. “Feel free to take anything from the built in armory to–”

“See you in the ring.” Red interrupted, walking towards the left side of the corridor.

Kysaline clenched her fists as she took the other path, muttering things about respect, entertainment and the lost art of verbal abuse. But she was quick to retrieve her joyful mood: after all, it was a win-win situation no matter what happened. She wouldn't lose any money herself, and even if she didn't get the sword, she'd taste its power long enough to understand it and build her own version later on. Red could think whatever he wanted: she was a talented builder. It was in her blood.

Bring it on, Red. Kysaline thought to herself as she put on a leather armor over her dungarees and checked her weapons. You're my first well of resources to harvest, and I will not let you go so easily! Kysaline stepped into the gray-tiled ground of the Casino's special arena, greeted the crowd that acclaimed her and stood there, arms crossed, weapons ready, waiting for Red to show himself as well.
Redstone Champion or not, it was time for him to learn to be wary of Kysaline B. Ware.
Last edited by TinkerTwaggy on Tue Sep 27, 2016 5:46 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."





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sheysse says...



Iron Greywood



I spun around as I heard the coin fall to ground beside me. Kysaline B. Ware stood on a slot machine across from me. I was surprised that I hadn't noticed her presence, and a bit disappointed in myself. Had I gotten rusty?

“Woo! Its Gadget Girl!”

“Oh darn it. She's at it again?

“Bloodbath incoming!”

Members of the crowd shouted before chanting “Gadget Girl” repetitively. It was all too familiar to me. “I commend you for your victory over these pathetic worms, Redstone Champion,” Kysaline said slowly, milking the crowd for a reaction. “However, it is a shame that an innocent table as well as a few slot machines suffered from that fight. Which, by the way, should have happened in the arena that's right next door.”

I blinked. That's what she was angry about? Not that I injured her customers, or started an uproar?! “And why do you care?” I asked, confused.

Kysaline blabbed some big metaphors that were probably not even important before drawing her crossbow. She aimed at the coin beside me and fired. I stood still, completely unsure of the situation around me.

“If you're the Redstone Champion, then I am everybody's Gadget Girl. I seek entertainment for both these people and myself, so allow me to challenge you to a knockout duel. In the casino's battleground. Does that sound good to you, my dear?”

Did she not hear me when I said I had never lost in an arena? Was she insane?! Wait. If I won, maybe I'd get some cash, and I could go home rich.

“What do I get if I win?”

“Double the money you've already gained. However, if I win… You're giving me your sword. Though if you're too scared to bet it, you can always give me the resources needed to build it. I'll take it from here.”

I inwardly laughed at such a preposterous idea. “Yeah, and let you copy my work? No thanks. You can take the sword if you win, but you won't be able to recreate it yourself.”

“Enough talk, Red! Our crowd is waiting,” Kysaline said, smiling.

“Don't call me that. We're not friends.”

“You're in my playground, Red. I do whatever I please in it, and you, like everyone else, have no other choice but to deal with it,” she said as she grabbed some armor. I went off to the arena. It was a short walk before I ended up in the stadium.

The floor consisted of marble tiles. Around it in a circle was rows of bleachers for viewers. People filed in. I was surpirsed by the speed at which it filled up. Then again, this was probably a battle of the ages. Who would miss it?

My enemy walked in the stadium with leather armor on. I smiled at her confidence. “I'm surprised you even showed. I expectedyou to run off,” I taunted.

She looked me with serious eyes, which surprised me. “I won't let that comment go unanswered. The duel shall begin in...”

I drew my blade.

“3...”

“2...”

“1...”

“FIGHT!” As she said this, she drew her crossbow and fired a bolt at me. But I was ready. I pushed of my feet and slid to the right, just out of the way. She smiled at my electrified sword.

Oh. I've been an idiot.

She wanted this thing on. Just a taste of it and she could reproduce it. This battle was her way of stealing my invention.

Smart, but I'm smarter.

I flipped the switch on my weapon and the sparks died. A look of dismay appeared on Kysaline's face. “What's wrong, Gadge? Afraid I'm gonna win?” I said.

She fired a shot at me, but her arm was slow. I was already out of the way. Dashing towards her, I jumped into the air. I began to bring my sword down on her when I felt a piercing pain in my right arm. I dropped my sword. I looked around trying to figure out what happened. A crossbow bolt was lodged in my arm, and I pulled it out. That's when I noticed that Kysaline wasn't holding the weapon. It was positioned on the far side of the battleground, empty, as though it had just fired.

“Nice, but not good enough.” I kicked the bow at her. I wanted a fair fight, even though she still hadn't drawn her katana. As I did so, I grabbed my coin pouch, opened it, and tossed them at her. She covered her eyes for a split second. In that time I dashed behind her and slashed at her back. She fell over, blood spilling from her wound. My blade had pierced her armor with no difficulty.

I ran at her again and angled my blade at her shoulder, careful not to kill her. As I ran, several bolts lodged in my abdomen. I fell to the ground, sputtering blood. Now me and Kysaline were both on the ground. Slowly we got up, preparing to continue what I expected to be a long fight.





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Mageheart says...



The Hooded Figure



He had expected to be called a liar at least once, but hadn't expected how much the accusation would sting.

He had worked hard to craft a solid and believable reason for seeking out the descendants of Steve and Alex, though it was a difficult task because he lacked sufficient evidence. The evidence he did have and the points he could make were only so much. Words were his only weapon. He couldn't show Joseph Hayes the children that had been orphaned and displaced by Notch's oppression. He couldn't show him the people who had lost so much to Notch. And he couldn't ever begin the express the emptiness he had seen in Eva's eyes and in the eyes of so many others.

Still, the reasons he had been turned away before was because his claims hadn't affected either Lazuli or Kysaline. That was easy for him to come to terms with.

It was the blunt accusation that made indignation and anger rise up from the depths of his heart. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell the man before him why he should trust what he said, to tell him the words he spoke were the truth – but promptly closed it because he realized it wouldn't work. Joseph was set in his ways. He would continue to call The Hooded Figure a liar no matter what points he brought up.

There was no point in continuing the discussion. It had already taken a negative toll on the descendants he had gotten to join him. A glance back and he found himself staring at the doubt written across their faces. Joseph saying he was lying was making them question their decisions to come; both Finnian and Brinley didn't meet his gaze.

“The point of finding the descendants of Steve and Alex isn't to awaken Herobrine,” he quietly corrected Joseph. “It was because I know other descendants can make a difference against Notch, and that Notch needs to be overthrown. But I can tell that you're not going to change your opinion, no matter what I say. It doesn't affect you. You don't care about overthrowing Notch. You haven't lost your family to him. You're content with the life you're living right now.” His voice became slightly louder, just barely more than a whisper. “I lost my brother and sister to Notch. Call me foolish for tracking the descendants down. Call me insane for thinking that the descendants can make a difference.” The Hooded Figure took a step towards Joseph Hayes. “But never call me a liar because I've been through the pain of losing people I cared about and loved to him.”

He turned around with a swish of his cloak, and he, Elora, Brinley, and Finnian departed from the strip mine.

* * * * *


It took over a day for the group to reach the deserts that the next descendant, a bipedal cat named Sivv Ladrian who was the descendant of Alex, lived in. He had willingly paid for rooms in the inn of a nearby town to avoid facing the hostile mobs during the night. Forcing them to pay out of their own pockets would not only be cruel, but would further nourish the seeds of distrust and suspicion that Joseph Hayes had planted.

The trip had been even hotter than the walk from Pig to Finnian's house. By the time midday came around, he wished more than ever before that he could remove his cloak. He could feel the sweat soaking every inch of his clothing, and his hair sticking to his forehead. They had gone through two water bottles each. He knew that unless Sivv had a water source he would be willing to share, they would need to purchase more on the return trip.

“It's so hot,” Brinley commented, wiping the sweat off of her brow. The most the rest of the group could muster was a silent nod to show their agreement. The dogs were panting heavily, and Finnian's horse had grown increasing slower.

They continued in silence for several minutes before Finnian suddenly spoke. “I see something in the distance. It looks like a hut of some sort – I think it's made of sandstone.” It was only a moment before the rest of them saw what had he had seen from his vantage point on top of his horse.

Underneath his hood, The Hooded Figure smiled. “What a relief,” he managed to get out. “That must be where Sivv Ladrian lives. And if it isn't, at least it's some shelter from the sun.”

* * * * *


After Finnian dismounted from his horse, The Hooded Figure knocked on the simple oak door to the hut. He took in the details of it as he waited for the occupants to open the door. The hut was constructed out of somewhat smooth sandstone, as Finnian had surmised earlier. Its roof was made of tightly woven pieces of dead bush.

The door was opened by a bipedal cat that he assumed to be Sivv Ladrian. “Hello,” he began. “Are you Sivv Ladrian?”

A nod in response. Sivv stared at them as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes; it wasn't surprising. They were in the middle of a desert that was mostly avoided. It was a natural reaction. “My name is Lumm Stephens.” No matter how many times he gave that alias as his name, he would never get past the initial reluctance. He gestured at each of the descendants gathered behind him and introduced them to Sivv. After the introductions were finished, he simply said, “I've come here to talk to you because you're descended from Alex.”
mage

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Mea says...



Joseph Hayes



Without warning, the cloaked man and his companions turned and left. Joe watched them recede down the tunnel, only calling after them a second too late. They turned a corner and vanished. By the time Joe had the presence of mind to go after them, following them all the way back up the crude staircase to the surface, they had already vanished through the Nether portal.

Joe didn't follow them any farther. Despite the man's startling words, Joe didn't want to get mixed up in whatever it was they were doing. He had a family to take care of, for Notch's sake. He continued mining for around another hour, until the sun was low on the horizon. Then he put his pick away and emerged, taking a final tally of the day's earnings. A little lower than average, but he would cope.

He did all this doggedly, focusing intently on the minutia of each task, until he went back through the Nether portal and began the long minecart journey home. Then, with a bland tunnel stretching out in front of him and nothing but the occasional chilling ghast noise for company, his thoughts finally overtook him.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," he said. Shadow wasn't here for him to talk to, but he pretended she was, like he always did. It felt less crazy than admitting he was talking to himself. Though, he supposed, pretending your dog was here so you you could talk to her instead of talking to yourself wasn't exactly less crazy.

A part of him was tempted to write off the man's response as simple theatrics, hoping Joe would retract his statement quickly and let him go unchallenged. But if that was the case... damn, the man was a good actor. And he hadn't returned. That said a lot. Conspiracy theorists would argue with you until you reached the Far Lands.

"If he really lost his siblings..." Joe continued, "then there's only a few options. Either he's mistaken, or... he's right."

But how could that have happened? Sure, Notch had a lot of power, which wasn't ideal. But the man made it sound like he was a tyrant, killing dozens of innocents every day. Maybe it had to do with his policies - maybe the man was convinced that one of them had indirectly killed his siblings.

"When it comes down to it, he still didn't tell me much." Joe said. "He's... passionate, driven for sure, but all I know is that he believes it's Notch's fault his siblings are dead. What if he's just a madman? What if he's just trying to gain power for himself?"

Soon, he was approaching the station, his peace shattered as dozens of other minecarts whirred by. As his minecart slammed into a cactus and he landed on the hopper beneath, Joe made his decision. He wasn't sorry he hadn't joined the 'revolution.' But... if only the man could have explained things a bit more. Had no one demanded evidence from him before? He would need to learn to keep better control of feelings if he wanted to sway people. Passion alone would not win him dedicated supporters, only excitable ones. Still, the man's words ghosted inside Joe's head, an uncertain undertone.

Joe didn't mention the incident to Flora that evening, though he couldn't quite articulate what stopped him. Maybe later, when he'd had more time to process it, he'd seek her input.
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Poopsie says...



Sivv stood at the door to his hut. It had taken a few clairvoyant potions, but in time, he'd found his way back to the Relic Dunes. In front of him stood a gaggle of sweaty looking strangers. Maybe they were lost. Sivv decided they were lost. Like that time when he and Soren had gone on that exhibition in the uncharted jungles and they'd found the ender dungeon and then forgot the way out.

''Shh. Sivv we mustn't think of him.''

''Oh shuttup Sivv. I can do what I like.''

''But Sivv. He brings back the memories.''

Sivv sighed.

''Those suck.''

''Is he muttering to himself or is that just me?''

Sivv realized that the poor lost souls were still in front of him.

''Sivv quick. Say something natural!''

''Uhhh. You guys lost or something?''

The hooded man standing at the front of the gang began to speak, but coughed and had to start again. Sivv giggled. He liked awkward malevolent hooded people.

''No we are not lost. Sivv Ladrian. We're here to recruit you to the resistance. Being the descendant of Alex, I believe you are inclined to join.''

Sivv cocked his head.

''I'm a cat.''

The Hooded figure paused.

''What?''

The blonde kid then piped up. A frustrated look on his face.

''Yeah he's a cat. Why would he be a descendant of Alex?''

The Hooded figure thought for a moment, then shrugged.

''I dunno. He was on the list.''

''Theirs a list?''

If it was possible to sweat more, the Hooded figure did so.

''Uh. How about we get inside. Is that okay with you Sivv?''

Sivv looked at them weirdly.

''You wanna stay in the hut?''

The hooded figure cocked his head.

''Where else would we go?''

Sivv stepped out of the doorway, then waved a hand to his left.

''Well the rest of the house is up over that sand dune if you wanna stay there. I just use this little thing when I'm making potions. Besides. Wouldn't wanna damage Soren's place y'know?''

The hooded figure looked stunned.

''Who's this Soren?''

''Sivv! What did we tell you about the Soren thing!''

''Goddammit Sivv! You're so forgetful! Just bring them to the house!''

Sivv fiddled with his cloak.

''Uhhh. Ix nay on the Soren yay?''

The gang stood there. Confused. Sivv waved for them to follow as he began making his way up the sand dune.

''I'll show you to the house. We can talk about the stupid drama wars there.''

After a few minutes of climbing, they reached the top. The dunes stretched out across the horizon, painting the sky a dusty brown. It also showed the house in all its glory. The gang of humans, along with the hooded figure gaped.

''Views great right?''

The blonde kid spoke again.

''You live in that thing?''

Sivv looked back at the house.

''What? Does it look run down? I guess it is pretty old.''

The kid looked at him.

''Thats fucking HUGE!!''

Sure enough. A massive Sandstone castle sprawled out below the sand dune they stood upon. The roof, in fact, almost reached them. Making the mansion about a few hundred feet tall and a couple miles long. Massive spires pierced the sky, surrounded by sconce like structures that went up only half the length of the spires. The main buildings were laid out in a hexagonal pattern. The rest of the castle rose to about half the main building's height and circled the circumference of the main building. Since it was built on hundreds of sand dunes, the rest of the castle terraced of further and further down until it reached the floor of the desert. Sections on the lower castle ran away from the main structure, accessible by sandstone walkways connected to the terraces. The terraces, unlike the desert it was built upon, were decorated with vibrant grass and wildflowers, contrasting beautifully with the sandstone that made up the castle itself.

Spoiler! :
Image


Sivv shrugged looked at the castle.

''Well. Soren and I made it ourselves.''

''Impossible. That must've taken centuries to build!''

Sivv smiled toothily

''It did. Come. Let us entered this so called 'castle'.''

With that, Sivv let himself fall down the sand dune and onto the top a sconce. Looking up, he signaled the rest to follow. A minute and a gallon of sand later, They were inside the castle. Sivv began walking, then realized it would probably take a year to reach the main hall. Without a word he opened the giant chest on his back and began making a Nether Portal. The crew behind him looked dumbfounded.

''Uh. What are you doing?''

''Making a nether portal.''

''Why?''

''To get to the main hall.''

''Uh. You do realize that we could be teleported to anywhere in the world if we go in and then back out of that.''

Sivv smiled.

''We won't. I've tried it.''

With that he stepped through the portal and the world turned purple. A minute later he was in the Nether. Without waiting for the rest of the group to enter the portal, Sivv got out his obsidian once again and began constructing the other portal. By the time the rest of the group had come through the portal, Sivv had finished constructing the next portal. As he turned to step into the portal, the hooded figure behind him spoke.

''Shouldn't we collect all this obsidian?''

Sivv snorted.

''Sure. The next time I run out of obsidian in the nether I'll just jump in a lava pool. It's important to leave behind portals young hooded man.''

Without another word, Sivv turned and stepped through the next portal. He emerged back in the castle. He was in the living room. The Main Hall and dining room were in the next few rooms. Sivv grinned to himself. Close enough.


A minute later the group still hadn't come through the portal. Maybe they were fighting a ghast. Or having a petty squabble. Sivv adored petty squabbles. He also liked the hooded guy. He was self important, stubborn, and maybe a little arrogant. Sivv liked that. People like that were hilarious. Although now that he thought of it, the guy did have some redeeming qualities. He certainly seemed out to do good, and perhaps stubbornness could prove good in certain situations. Sivv decided he liked the man for both his sides, that was usually how people went. Everyone had two sides, and in a certain light, both were good. Unless that person was Shaxx. Shaxx was terrible no matter which light you saw him in. Sivv chuckled to himself. This would be a nice conversation. Mostly because he was going to refuse no matter what the man said. History had a way of repeating itself, whatever form it took, and this time, Sivv would stay out of the big dressed up looking pity party and hope for the best. Oh how he loved being old. It didn't matter if it was the end of the world or not. Sivv wouldn't mind dying. The next life was simply another adventure.
Last edited by Poopsie on Fri Sep 09, 2016 11:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Omni says...



The White Hood



Five figures coated in black danced around the outskirts of the mining town, only their silky black hoods shining against distant torches like flickering fireflies. To one side, a silhouette of white and black stood still, only barely visible to even the keenest eyes in town.

The five black figures circled around the other. "Aquestioning, we have located the household. What would you want us to do?" One of the hooded men asked softly.

"We wait." A feminine voice replied. "The miners have come back for the night. They leave again at the crack of dawn." The White Hood sat down in the field. "We shall wait until the miners are gone. Then we retrieve what we're here for, and leave before the army comes through."

"And if we are noticed?" Another, more youthful voice asked.

"Then we will be their last thought."

~~~

The first pink-orange rays shone through the darkness of night, whispering the assurance that the day is not far off. The small mining town breathed itself to life to start another grueling day. Dozens of the townspeople got their equipment and started on the long minecart journey to the deep mines.

On a plain not far from the town sat six figures. One in the middle stood as the multiple minecarts left the city. The White Hood inclined her head to the others. "The miners have left. Our mission starts."

Like ghosts they moved along the small wall barricading the front of the town in the fading darkness. Aquestioning led the way, and one by one they slipped past a group of blacksmiths are the front of the town. In and out they slipped through the small wooden houses. In the corner of her view-line, she noticed blurs of people through tinted windows. Some were still fast asleep underneath their red cotton blankets, able to sleep in while people did work for them. Others were already hard at work crafting materials or cutting down trees to begin work for the day.

Aquestioning stopped suddenly. A green-tinted window hid a girl, well on her way into maturity of womanhood. Auburn hair fell to her shoulders in loose curls. She turned to the group of five behind her. "This is the house. Take positions. If anyone comes into this house, bring them to me."

Pulling out a serrated dagger, Aquestioning slid to the front of the house, her initiates filing into crevices and corners near her. The area was clear. Aquestioning approached the door.

Three knocks. Rap-rap-rap. Three knocks was all that was needed.

The door opened slowly, and the girl peeked curiously out the door. "May I... help you?" She paused for a moment, eying the black and white cloak.

"I'm looking for Clarice Hayes." The hood shook softly as Aquestioning tilted her head at the girl. "Are you Clarice?" The girl nodded warily. "Good, good. Is your father home?"

"You're not from around here, are you?" Clarice held a firm grip on the door.

"Hmm. Your hands are rough, Clarice. Are those hands of a blacksmith? A gardener?"

"They're hands of a warrior." Clarice growled, threat clear in her words.

"This should be fun, then." Aquestioning slowly revealed her dagger, but the door was already slammed shut. She kicked the door open, revealing a grand house with a large oak stairway leading to a second floor. A flash of green cloth, and she knew where Clarice had gone.

Taking the stairs slowly, The White Hood was going to enjoy this.

As she reached the second landing, Clarice turned from the closet to face The White Hood, pulling out an iron sword. "Leave me alone, whoever you are. My father trained me well in fighting mobs. You're no different."

"Oh, Clarice, if I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already."

"Do not call me that!" She threatened, sword at the ready.

Aquestioning pulled out her serrated knife. "Listen here, girl." She stopped and collected herself. "I am not going to hurt you. Now, if we're still here by the time your family shows up, I will not say the same of them." She lowered the dagger. "I'm here on a mission, Clarice. You see, you are special. Notch himself wants to meet you."

"...Notch?"

Aquestioning nodded. "The God of light and order himself wants to talk to you." She sheathed her dagger. "Come with me, Clarice."

Just then, Aquestioning's hood bristled, and she turned to meet the leg of a chair with her arm. Someone looking strikingly similar to Clarice, although aged more. This must be the mother. What was her name? Flora? It doesn't matter, she wasn't needed for the mission.

"Continue with the mission!" Aquestioning shouted, and two of her initiates burst through the tinted glass and grabbed a hold of Clarice, tying her up in a few quick motions.

Aquestioning pulled out her two daggers and knocked the table leg out of Flora's hand. Flora stumbled back, gasping. "Get away from my family," she seethed.

The White Hood just advanced on Flora, knocking her down the stairs. Following her down, she could see blood on the last few steps.

A growl split the silence and a large dog collided with Aquestioning, knocking her into the wall. Feral growls and sharp claws slashed at her, but one quick stab, in and out, sent the pup whimpering as it fell.

Aquestioning stood and fix her hood. It had almost fallen off in that surprise attack. She wouldn't let that happen again. She noticed Flora in the corner of her eye stumbling to the door. "You should have just stayed out of the house, Flora." Aquestioning aimed one of her daggers at the woman and threw it, the force of it slamming her into the door, pinned by the dagger at her shoulder. She groaned softly, trying to tilt her head to view her attacker one last time.

The White Hood knelt down to be at the same level of her victim, "You'll leave a wonderful message for your husband."

~~~

Stalking up the stairs again, Aquestioning looked outside the window. Clarice was nothing more than a tied bundle, with her initiates waiting patiently for her in the shadows between two houses. She was about to step through the window to finish this mission when she heard a tick-tack in the closet.

She stopped and smiled softly. Opening the closet doors, she saw a small girl, not even in her teens, shaking and white.

"Sh, sh, sh. It's all right." Aquestioning knelt down and handed the girl a piece of paper. "Give this to your daddy, okay?" The girl nodded reluctantly. "Okay, and tell him it's from Notch." She closed the girl's hands around it gently. "Now, just stay in this closet until you here him come in, okay? Don't come out." The girl nodded again, speechless.

The White Hood closed the closet doors back up and slid out of the window, landing on the ground with a soft thud. Part I of the mission has been achieved.
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Mageheart says...



The Hooded Figure



He had quickly come to the realization that Sivv Ladrian was most likely insane.

The bipedal cat's repeated conversations with himself had been the reason for this understanding. He had heard stories from Eva's childhood about people who pretended to be mentally unstable in order to have people underestimate them; that was where the “most likely” bit came from. But the insanity seemed all too real. The Hooded Figure doubted it was just an act.

And now he had to make a decision. Should he still try to gain Sivv as an ally? Or would it be better to forget the encounter had ever happened? He mulled over the two options. He was too focused on the matter at hand to notice that he had stopped walking. The other members of the group did the same.

“Why did you stop?” Brinley questioned, snapping him back to the situation at hand.

“I'm thinking,” he replied. He turned his attention back to the Nether portal they had entered through. Sivv's decision not to destroy it seemed as if it would be beneficial for the ragtag group. He had been shocked by the bipedal cat's response before – obsidian was a valuable material and leaving it there was just an attack from some foe waiting to happen – but now he was grateful. “None of you would be particularly upset if we just went back through that Nether portal and headed towards Mineplex, would you?”

No one had any objections.

* * * * *


They were making good time. Four days had passed with nights being spent in inns or the houses of individuals that were no longer there or didn't ask questions. The weather had taken a turn for the cooler side.

All in all, The Hooded Figure was in a pretty good mood. He had even started whistling an old folk song he heard weeks before and had quickly grown to love, an extra skip to his step as they made their way out of a large swamp and onto the open plains. It wouldn't be long until they returned to Mineplex. He couldn't wait to get back to his home! Though it had been less than a month since his departure, he couldn't wait to see Eva again-

The whistling abruptly stopped, a gulp replacing the merry tune. He could only imagine her reaction upon finding the note he had left, and the anger she would display with no hesitations whatsoever when he returned. She would, no doubt, be pissed at him for sneaking off in the middle of the night with only a simple piece of paper as a somewhat sufficient explanation for his sudden disappearance.

Still, he had missed his best friend over the course of his journey. Her companionship would be greatly welcomed after she finished yelling at him in front of everyone in the Resistance.

He resumed his whistling, though it wavered with just a bit of fear at the very beginning.

“There's a town up ahead,” he informed the group. “It's called Andestine; there's a descendant of Steve who lives in it that I already talked to. She, obviously, decided to stay neutral. So if you see a girl giving me odd looks, that's the reason why.” Part of him wondered if the sight of him with so many others would convince her to change her mind.

He would just have to wait to find out.

* * * * *


He knew something was wrong the minute he smelled the whiffs of smoke in the air. It was faint, and to most it would be undetectable. But to him, it was all too familiar.

Fear and anger spurred him on; fear that he was correct about why he smelled the smoke, and anger at the one who would have caused it. He raced ahead of the others. Their cries of protest and confusion at his sudden burst of speed reached his ears but didn't register. His only thought was of Andestine.

What had once been a wonderful farm town was now smoldering piles of ashes arranged in the pattern of where the buildings had originally been.

Memories came flooding back to him. Talking with the people of the town about the new family. The poor family that had moved to what would be their final resting place. The inn he had stayed in. The kind innkeeper. The library. Lazuli Ghastbane.

All of it was gone. The connections that he had forged had been destroyed by Notch's vicious flames in just an instant.

There had been many times in his life when he wished he could reset the passage of time, and this was one of them. If only he could have warned them. If only he had stayed behind and protected them. Even if he was unable to save them all, he would have been able to save some of them!

But there was no way he could turn back time. He was stuck with the consequences of his actions, ones that he knew he could never erase.

He heard the others halt by his side, all of them shocked silent by the sight that lay before them. He didn't turn back to look at them. He knew he would see surprise and horror and sadness at the loss of lives that had never meant anything to them before that moment.

The anger blazing in his heart was slowly replaced by the guilt and desperation he was so accustomed to. The villagers were just more names to be added to the long list of lives Notch had taken during his supposedly just reign; The Hooded Figure carried the burden of all the lost people.

Someone was approaching.

He turned to face whoever it was and found himself looking up at a person on a horse. By the horse's side was two dogs. Both them, Finnian's dog, and Brinley's dog began barking at each other. He couldn't determine if it they were friendly or warning barks.

The person atop the horse wore a gray wool hood and a mask made of rabbit fur. She appeared to be female, and stared at the assembled group with surprised stormy blue eyes.

Strangely familiar stormy blue eyes.

Despite the recognition he was experiencing, he wasted no time in withdrawing his iron sword and pointing it at her. She cast a brief glance at it before saying, "Seriously, guys? I've been tracking you for days and you end up here of all places!"

Emotions bombarded him in quick succession at the sound of her voice. Shock. Joy. Relief.

“Everyone,” he managed to get out, “meet Lazuli Ghastbane, descendant of Steve.”
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Kelpies says...



Lazuli Ghastbane



“That would be me. Unless you happen to know someone else by the same name.” I studied them from up on my steed. I gestured towards my old house. “Wouldn’t go over there if I were you. The troops for some reason think I’d go back- kind of unlikely since I blew the place up.” I shrugged. “Anyone want to ride?”

“Horses could draw attention to us.” The hooded figure pointed out.

“They go where I go. If they aren’t welcome I’ll go somewhere else. That goes for my dogs too.”

He seemed hesitant to let me bring them- not that I’d given him a choice. He seemed to cave though- as he didn’t bring it up again.

“Who are you guys though?” I asked- slightly curious as to the new members of this… Rebellion.

“I’m Brinley!” A young one piped up. I couldn’t help but smile- not that anyone could see it.

“I’m Elora.” A lady in a Notch’s army uniform offered her hand to shake. I took it- somewhat skeptical that someone in the army would desert. Then again- she’d probably seen more villages burned to the ground than I ever had.

I was probably going to see a lot more before this was over.

“And you?” I asked the last one- a male that was also riding a horse.

“Finnian.” He sounded slightly annoyed that I’d asked. I shrugged it off.

“So, where to next?” I asked the hooded figure. He obviously wanted his identity to remain hidden so I wasn’t going to ask his name.

“Mineplex.” He answered. That was fairly obscure- Mineplex was a big place, if we only had that to go on to find someone or something it was going to be fairly hard. I decided to trust him though, he’d found all of us.

“Well- we’d better get started if we want to get anywhere at all before sundown.” I pointed out. “You” I gestured to the hooded figure “and Elora can ride Cloud and Paintbrush if you like. Brinley can ride with me. We’ll get there faster if we all ride.”
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JuliasSneezer says...



Brinley nodded, letting the adults talk. She was quite embarrassed that she had acted so quickly and childishly. This isn't a game. She thought. You're going to have to act older if you want to be taken seriously, and alive. She shrugged off the afterthought.

However, she was excited about riding with Lazuli. She seemed like a friendly person, and Brinley was disappointed to admit that she hadn't met many of those.
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TinkerTwaggy says...



Kysaline – Project 3:


Picking on a cheeky brat with brio



Part 2: T for Thrill




Timeline: Day 3



Kysaline rose up from the ground. The pain in her back was vivid, but tolerable. And most importantly: exciting. She hadn't had such an enjoyable opponent against her in a long time – well, aside for George whenever he got serious, anyway. She sighed, a joyous smile brightening up her face.

“What's so funny?” Red inquired, visibly far more suspicious of her than he was at the beginning.

“The pain. The battle. The excitement. The crowd. You. Everything, really!” she exclaimed with a wide movement of her arm. “I hadn't had a situation like this one in a while, so I'm trying to enjoy it. You're the Redstone Champion, right? Surely there must have been some battles you took part in that were more interesting than others!”

“Yeah, like those where my opponents didn't start a random conversation in the middle of a fight.” Red replied grumpily.

Kysaline pouted. “You make it sound like I'm the only one who does that. We both took quite a few hits, so you should use that as an excuse to rest instead of complaining!”

“You're insane.”

Kysaline rolled her eyes. “You're a boy.”

“...What?”

“I know I'm insane. Everyone here knows that I'm insane. It doesn't take very long to notice it. So stating that I'm insane is about as ineffective as me randomly stating your gender. Seriously Red, what kind of comeback was that? Same problem with 'Gadge'. You could've at least went for something as simple as Gadget. Do you actually think when you talk?”

Despite the fact that Kysaline was perfectly serious, Red appeared utterly confused, and several groups in the crowd laughed.

“...You called me 'Red'.” Red answered, visibly exasperated. “That's the dumbest, simplest name you could come up with, so you can't talk.”

“First off, I don't know your actual name, so it's perfectly logical to start with a simple one I can remember. Second: I'm insane. I can judge your naming sense because I have enough sanity left in me to understand it. But are you seriously judging the naming sense of someone who sighs of nostalgic happiness after being badly hit by a sword?”

The crowd's laughter grew louder – they always enjoyed the fact that their favorite Gadget Girl was so aware of her insanity and constantly scolded the sane ones for forgetting about it. Red ended up closing his eyes for a short moment and tightening his hand's grip on his weapon. When he opened his eyes again, it was clear that he had decided to end the battle as quickly as possible before losing his mind.

“Fine.” Kysaline continued, rolling her eyes once more. “Be that way, if that's what you want. I've got some adjustments to do too, anyway.” with that said, Kysaline put her crossbow back in her holster and put a confident hand around the scabbard of her katana. Having erased the smirk from her face a long time ago, Kysaline slowly walked towards her opponent. He didn't move from his spot, but the focused stare on his face was eloquent enough: either he was silently sulking, either he was, like her, planning his next move.

“By my next step, you'll get a slap.” Kysaline warned as she stopped right in front of him. Red didn't react. “Okay then.” Kysaline took one large step, bending her knee as she did so. Red immediately turned back, his sword ready to perform a vicious lateral swing. But his eyes widened halfway through the movement, as he realized that Kysaline had already turned back, her second hand hovering above her weapon's hilt. She unsheathed her weapon at breath-taking speed and hit the boy's stomach along with his chest plate, which made Red lose his balance. Kysaline proceeded to approach him yet again and hit his cheek with a resounding backhanded slap. Red fell on the ground as Kysaline sheathed her weapon, looking down on him.

“As you now realize, Red,” Kysaline exclaimed, “I only delayed the use of my second weapon to make this battle more interesting. But if your speed can't match mine… You may as well abandon right now.” dastardly smirk. “unless, of course… you decide to use your secret weapon too.”

Red rose up, angered, humiliated, but still careful. “Dream on, Gadge. You're not as strong as you think you are.”

“I only think of myself as insane. I leave the power judgment bits to the minds of others.”

Red rushed at her, but Kysaline saw the movement coming. She ducked in advance and performed another one of her quick draw strike, swiftly dashing past Red while once again hitting his stomach. But the boy didn't seem to care: he turned back and engaged Kysaline in a full on sword fight.

Oh, bows and beaks!
Kysaline couldn't help but think as she dodged another hit from her opponent. He realized. Of course he realized. Although Kysaline was much faster than him at quick drawing, he had the advantage when it came to sword swinging. His pace was much better than hers, and she kept losing ground to him as she blocked hit after hit of Red's reckless assault. Finally, she repelled an overhead strike from Red before leaping back and rapidly pulling out her crossbow. The shot penetrated Red's chest plate and he flew back, grunting as he hit the ground.

“And before you spit nonsense like all those before you,” Kysaline declared, sheathing her katana, “This is a fight, not just a sword fight. If you must blame something, Red, then it's yourself for not bringing any other weapon than your sword.” with that said, Kysaline loaded another arrow on her crossbow before putting it away in the holster behind her back, waiting for Red to get up. He was heavily panting, having taken much more hits than her in their last exchange. Kysaline was still looking down at him, obviously waiting for the one thing she had wanted to see ever since the beginning of this battle. They silently stared at each other.

“...Fine.” Red muttered between his teeth. “But you won't see anything.” Red pressed a switch on his sword's hilt. A soft vibration skimmed through the blade. “You won't win anything. You won't copy anything from my weapon, either. Because all you'll remember will be a violent shock.”

“But of course, darling.” Kysaline immediately replied with a smirk, putting a hand to her own sword's hilt. “After all, I literally asked for it. Come now, let's not make our audience wait anymore.” Indeed, the audience was watching in silence as the two fighters slowly walked towards each other, both evidently preparing for a quick strike – and if Red was indeed going to use his Redstone properties, it could be the last one.

I see it. Kysalien thought to herself, satisfied despite the focused scowl on her face. I see the outcome of this battle. Come on, Red. Surprise me. I'll surprise you in return.

Time seemed to slow down as the peculiar pair walked past each other. With the sword Red had, Kysaline knew that he'd need to take roughly one or two more steps than her to make sure that he'd hit her with the right momentum. He certainly believed that with enough momentum, he'd be able to scratch her, which of course would be enough for his Redstone effect to take place – though even if he didn't, he'd still have to take more steps than her in order to aim. With that in mind, Kysaline immediately twirled on her foot, thus turning back seconds before Red could initiate his own action. She took her crossbow again and, looking up, carefully aimed somewhere above the two of them.
Checkmate. Kysaline thought as she looked back down, smiling at Red. During a split second, she witnessed a light of incomprehension float in his eye as he witnessed her strange pose, but his movement was unstoppable: his blade slashed Kysaline's stomach. The wound was small, but the effect was immediate: Kysaline felt a short, amazingly painful electric shock fly through her entire body. She fell on the ground and dropped her crossbow. Luckily, the strike had been quick enough for her not too feel too much of the shock, which was, she assumed, the reason why she was still conscious.

Why?” she heard Red scream somewhere over her. “Why did you throw away the fight? That's not how I win my battles!”

Kysaline smiled. “Thank you.” she whispered. “Thank you so much for your concern, Red. But don't fret: I've won our little bet, so I'm satisfied. As for the battle itself, well...” her smile turned into a mischievous smirk. “Let's call it a draw, shall we?”

As Red was about to ask what she meant by that, a sudden shock shook his back, and he collapsed head first on the ground next to her, knocked out. An arrow had stuck itself in his back.

Field knowledge, Red. I know this place and its ceiling like the back of my hand. Kysaline smiled to herself. I do get occasionally lucky with that ricochet, though. Having barely any strength left to even think, Kysaline closed her eyes and let her body and mind be wrapped in the cold yet welcoming arms of unconsciousness.


******



When she finally woke up, it was to find herself back in her gigantic bedroom, surrounded by her six assistants. Even though they were all dressed in the same black attire and wore their masks, the still sleepy Kysaline could tell they were immensely worried.

“A warning.” were Kysaline's first words. “I do not want any of you to say that I was too reckless about this matter. I assume that George told you everything, so you knew what I was trying to accomplish. Just… Tell me if I've succeeded.”

The assistants looked at the one in the center, who was facing Kysaline. He took a step forward.

“We… did manage to understand what type of material was used to electrify your body, My Heiress.” CePrim confirmed. “A certain type of Redstone material, to be precise. It matched what we had already observed from the report about that material's potential, so we will find a way to harness more of that resource and bring it to you, so that you may do with it whatever you wish.”

Kysaline nodded, a satisfied smile making its way on her face. “Good work, everyone. Sorry… Sorry to have kept you worried for so long. Is Red okay?”

“You mean the teenage boy you faced? He goes by the name Iron Greywood. And yes, he is fine. After observing his weapon more carefully, we made sure that he'd heal as well as possible. He even got his hand on a consolation price, and didn't seem disappointed with it.”

“...Hojrod.” Kysaline whispered. “Yes. Hojrod will do.”

CePrim appeared surprised. “You've… upgraded him to two syllables already?” he inquired. “Was he that exceptional to you?”

Kysaline rose from the bed, smiling at the intense pain that accompanied the movement.

“My Heiress, you shouldn't–”

Shush. Yes, CePrim. He was that exceptional to me. Our battle didn't have an enjoyable ending for him, so I know we'll eventually have to confront each other again. And on top of that, he adapted to my quick draw skills and will most certainly use that against me, while I have obtained the necessary knowledge to replicate his secret weapon, and use it against him.” Kysaline sighed. “What thrilling perspectives ahead… CePrim! Do I have a scar?” as she asked that, Kysaline gazed at her exposed stomach, which was covered by a large, reddened bandage.

“Y-Yes, but–”

“What does it look like?”

“Um… a… A cross? Or a… 't'?”

Kysaline giggled. “T for Thrill. Quite fitting. CeDos! Bring my scalpels. It's time for everyone's Gadget Girl to get herself a long-lasting, bloody tattoo. Help me redesign my scar. CeQint, bring me my notepad and pen. There's a brand new project I need to invest time for.” Kysaline clapped her hands. “Up and at 'em! Stop staring at me like a band of handicapped morons. We have work to do!”
"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."





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sheysse says...



Iron Greywood



The walk from the port to my home was beautiful and it filled me with joy. So did the jingle of the 3,000 Gold Nuggets in my wallet. Mostly the nuggets. The amount of money I had won from my duel with Kysaline was satisfying, to say the least. I thought back to the duel.

It was the first time I really had a tough fight. That fight brought a smile to his face. Of course, I really wasn't trying to hard. If she hadn't ended it so abruptly (and disappointingly), I might have had to use my TNT gun. Maybe. I remembered the note I left for Kysaline and wondered when she would find it.

That was a good fight. Mostly. For the record, I would've won even if you hadn't ruined it so soon. I found it ironic when you said it was my fault for not bringing a second weapon. I had a TNT gun in my back pocket. Not that I needed it on YOU.


I could just imagine the look on her face when she saw it. Actually, I couldn't. I would say she'd be annoyed, but insane Kysaline might laugh at it. Either way, I had money.

The stroll through Mineplex was about as gorgeous as a major city could be. I was happy, but I still couldn't ignore the nagging anxiety I felt from my battle. I had won, but really, Kysaline did. She got her way and felt my weapon. She'd probably use some underhanded cheap method to recreate it and make a profit. I knew I should've patented it. Well, I'd just have to make something more creative. Maybe some new armor. Ideas filled my head as I realized that this would become an engineering battle. And this one I would win.

As I turned the corner to my lane, I saw a crowd gathered around my front door. It was an odd crowd, which fit in perfectly on my damaged, weather-worn street. A cloaked man surrounded by a man with a horse, and lots of dogs. Then there was a couple normal looking people, but one of them gave of the blood thirsty aura I recognized from my arena days. These people meant business.

I dashed forward with my hand on my sword's hilt, preparing for combat. Drawing my blade, I stopped running and slid through the dirt, stopping with my blade an inch from the hooded figure's neck. My coat flapped behind me and a dust cloud billowed around my feet.

Most of the group got ready to fight, hands darting to weapons. But the hooded figure just put his hands in the air and laughed uneasily. “I mean no harm. I'm – we're – students who want to talk to you to do research for a school project.”

I looked at the group. “You actually want me to believe that?”

“Good point. I guess I'll just get down to business,” He said, still acting uneasy and awkward. “I'm sure you're aware you're a descendant of Steve, the well-known hero?”

I blinked. “Yes, I did. And how did you learn this?” He avoided the question.

“I was wondering if you're aware that Notch is an oppressive leader who doesn't allow his people to speak out about him?”

“Again, yes I did. Where are you going with this conversation.?”

He hesitated. “Well, I need you to do something only a descendant could do. Help fight Notch.”

I tilted my head. “Why?”

“What?”

“I understand that Notch is the bad guy. That part I got. But I don't see how fighting him is any better. The only way you try to stop Notch is through fighting, and apparently you aren't doing so hot, since you came to me. How do I know you're the good guy?”

The hooded figure was speechless. He looked at me and I could see passion in his eyes, but he didn't know how to deliver it to me. “Fine. I'm in. I guess I'll figure out the answers myself by actually joining you. Besides, I might be able to actually teach you how to win a war."





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Mageheart says...



The Hooded Figure



They were in the home stretch.

That thought filled him with an incredible amount of joy (along with the fact that Iron Greywood had believed him), but he made sure not to show it as they made their way through the crowded streets of Mineplex. His attire was already attracting the gazes of the people they passed by; now was not the time to hum the tune he had already grown to love.

After around an hour, they exited the city and entered a forest that bordered the west side of the city. It was a forest consisting mainly of towering dark oak trees. An eerie mood set upon the group he had assembled as they followed a beaten path that swerved through the trees. To The Hooded Figure, this was a comforting trail. He had followed it many times before. To the others, he supposed they thought he was leading them to their inevitable demise. Even the animals seemed to be afraid of the woods – the dogs had their ears flat against their heads, and Finnian was having trouble getting his horse to keep up with everyone else.

He turned to face them all. This was something he had secretly been dreading to reveal. He knew how risky this entire endeavor had been, but this moment in particular was one that could benefit or ruin his mission. “You're probably wondering where I'm leading you all,” he began.

“With good reason,” Finnian said. “We're in the middle of a dark oak woods on the edge of the city that everyone knows is the center for Notch's forces.”

“Plus,” Brinley added, nervously gazing around the woods, “it's dark in here. It's darker than most biomes, and that would higher the chances of mobs managing to escape the sun's rays.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so, Elora pointed behind him. “There's a Woodland's Mansion.”

Terrified glances were passed around between the people that had chosen to follow him. Surely, they must have all been thinking, Lumm Stephens was leading them to their doom. He frowned. They would all be perfectly fine. He was the one heading towards his doom once they entered the Woodland's Mansion; it was only a matter of time before he had to face Eva.

“It's time for me to reveal where I'm taking you all.” He tilted his head up slightly so they could see his mouth and gave them all an ominous smile.

Greywood, eyes widening in horror, interrupted him. “You're leading us to the Woodland's Mansion.”

The frown returned. “Yes,” he replied, disappointed that the only bit of fun he would have experienced had been lost by Greywood's sudden outburst.

They were all too shocked to even utter a word of protest. All they could do was stare at him as if he was insane, which he supposed they all believed to be the truth.

“It's alright,” he assured them. “The illagers won't harm us. Neither will the vexes. We've come to an alliance; we supply them with materials and they give us safe passage. One might even say we've become friends.”

Greywood crossed his arms, having recovered his cool demeanor. “And who else is part of the 'we' you speak of?”

This was the part of the conversation he was the most nervous about. They could easily turn around and return to the lives they left behind. Worse, they might go running to Notch and reveal the location of the Resistance's base.

He took a deep breath.

He had faced things he was afraid of before; he had done it countless times the entire journey. This was no different. Let them call him crazy. Let them go running to Notch. He had come this far and he wasn't going to give up on Alex and Steve's descendants.

“Underneath that building is the Resistance headquarters; I'm a member of the Resistance.” The disbelief from before quickly turned to shock upon his reveal. And then, oddly enough, it reverted to the same horror from before.

Lazuli yelled out, “Lumm! There's a zombie behind you!”

Ah.

That explained the looks of fear on their faces.

He spun around to face the opponent approaching. He had long ago stopped hesitating when facing mobs. It was necessary in order to survive; he had to stop looking at them as people and simply as enemies. It was how he was able to fight all fights.

In a single, swift motion, he withdrew his sword and sliced the zombie's head off. The body went limp before disappearing into a burst of white particles.

Memories came flooding back to him. That always happened when he used his sword. So far, he had been lucky. He had managed to hold the memories off until after the battle, but he knew the day would someday come when he would be unable to prevent the tidal wave of memories from bombarding him in the middle of a fight.

It had been nearly a month and he still hadn't gotten a hang of using a sword. That fact frustrated him greatly; he had always been able to pick up different skills in a short period of time and master them. In theory, sword-fighting should have worked exactly the same.

There was the sound of someone approaching, but he didn't look away from the training dummy she had constructed. “If looks could kill, that poor dummy would already be dead.” His instructor – who happened to be younger than him – sat down beside him and joined him in his silent staring contest with the dummy that (ironically enough) lacked eyes of any sort.

“I'm not meant to use a sword,” he suddenly declared. He got to his feet and turned his back to both his instructor and the dummy. “That's why I'm never going to be able to learn how to use that stupid metal blade in a fight. I'm meant to stick with what I already can use-”

“That's complete bullshit, and you know that.”

He finally looked at his teacher. “Then why else can't I use it?”

“Possibly because you ignore every single thing I try teaching you.”

He crossed his arms. “I've got years on you,” he indignantly replied. “I've had plenty of experience; I know how to use weapons-”

“Except a sword. Which is what I'm teaching you.” His instructor sighed, running his fingers through his brown hair. “You'll get nowhere in life if you ignore all of the advice other people give you, and being that cocky is like placing TNT next to redstone. Which, as we both know from experience, is not a good idea.” There was a pause. “And you know I don't like when you pull the age card.”

He smirked. “It's my duty, little brother of mine, to, as you say, 'pull the age card'.”

He gained a glower in response. “Go to the Nether.”

“Only if I take you with me~” he taunted. Instead of a glower, he gained what was certainly not a lighthearted punch to the shoulder.


He opened his eyes and saw he was surrounded by the group. He anxiously scanned their faces for any signs of recognition, but none of them seemed to have used his sudden unconsciousness as an opportunity to reveal his identity. “I'm alright,” he said to no one in particular as he got to his feet. “That always happens when I use a sword. It's because of my PTSD. It's nothing. I've grown used to it; I'm sorry for scaring you all with suddenly collapsing.” Brushing the dirt off his clothes, he turned towards the Woodland's Mansion. “Seeing that you're all still here, I'm assuming you're okay with joining the Resistance in order to fight Notch. Since that's evidently the case, let's finish this journey.”

* * * * *


The illagers and vexes they ran into were unsurprisingly not a problem. They recognized the outfit – he had explained things to them upon leaving – and easily recognized his voice.

He led them through a maze of hallways and down a long, spiraling staircase. They eventually ended up in a corridor constructed of stone bricks. “I need to run off to my room, but before I do that, I'll find someone to show you all around-”

Someone cleared their throat behind them.

Knowing who that person had to be, he turned around and gave a halfhearted wave. “Hi, Eva?” he nervously greeted the enderman-human hybrid. “Uh...I've missed you?”

“You left without even so much as an explanation.” Her arms were crossed, and she was tapping her foot. He gulped. That was never a good sign.

“I left a note,” he hesitantly pointed out.

“Saying that you were going on some harebrained scheme to find the descendants of Alex and Steve! I know you believe they could help defeat Notch, but honestly! Just because you're so young doesn't mean that you can just leave me here. When you joined the Resistance, you agreed to join part of a team!”

“We both know you would have never let me leave!”

“Naturally! You could have gotten yourself captured or killed! If they got their hands on you, you foolish and naive child, they would have tortured you for every single bit of information you have about the Resistance! Which, as we also both know, is all the information about the Resistance!”

They glared at each other for several minutes. None of the group was brave enough to interrupt the two bickering members of the Resistance. Then Eva sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, a gesture which always brought back painful memories of his little brother. If she knew how it made him feel, she would have never done so. “I'll let it slide just this once. You're only a kid; you still have a lot to learn.”

“Alright,” he said, glad to have the argument over with. He resumed the role he usually assumed around her when she wasn't berating him. “I'm going to my room to make my appearance more presentable. Please give the new members of the Resistance – and yes, I know one of them is Elora Torydark – a brief tour of the base and then meet me in the mess hall so they can all have a bite to eat.”

She nodded. “Don't pull a stunt like that again.”

He smiled as he began to walk down the familiar hallway. “I won't.” He couldn't wait to have a hot bath. After that, he would gel his hair, dress in his usual outfit, and show the descendants who he really was.

Today, he decided, was a great day.
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Kelpies says...



Lazuli Ghastbane



It took all the effort I could muster to keep from laughing during the Hooded Man’s reprimand. He’d lead us all this way- he’d been in charge all this time and seeing him being scolded like a little boy was hilarious. I was very happy to be going on a tour, and I was really hoping the place had a library- or at least a room for books.

Eva- whose name I’d picked up from her conversation with the hooded dude- showed us several rooms that I was trying like hell to remember. There was a lounge, dormitories, showering rooms, sparring rooms, planning room, a book room (THAT I’d have no trouble remembering), and an underground farm. The tour wound to a close as Eva guided us to the mess hall.

The mess hall had a high ceiling, and tables set up in rows. A man sat at a table near the center of the room- even I immediately recognized him. He got up as soon as he saw us.

“Hello, I am Ryder Salvai.” I recognized his voice immediately- he was the person who lead us here. “Leader of the resistance.”

Well that was one way to silence a room.

“So…” I said slowly. “You went out of your way to find us and bring us here?” I raised an eyebrow. “Somebody pinch me.”
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Mageheart says...



The Hooded Figure



He took in the shock, the disbelief, and the confusion – even a bit of hurt was portrayed on the faces of Alex and Steve's descendants. “I'm sorry,” he simply said. He hoped they could tell that his words were completely sincere. If he had been given the opportunity, he would have said who he was the moment he was the moment he met them. “In case any of you went running to Notch, I couldn't reveal who I really was. I also had to hide my face underneath the cloak because I knew that some of you might recognize me from the wanted posters posted around Minecraftia.”

He turned his gaze to Lazuli. “My reasons for bringing all of you here remain the same. Steve and Alex were special; I'm sure that every single one of you is as well.”

Turning his back to the group, he made his way over to the counter where all of the food was displayed. He grinned upon looking it over. Spinning around to face them all, he brought their attention to the food with a wide, sweeping gesture. “I ran into one of the chefs when I was heading to my room and asked them to prepare some food for you guys. So, please, grab a plate and dig in! After you finish eating, we'll talk about how the Resistance is run.”

* * * * *


The descendants, seeming to realize that they would be seeing a lot of each other, all sat at the same table and began talking. Some were better acquainted than others, and some more chatty, but they all seemed to be getting along.

“It's so nice,” he said as he took a bite out of the cookie he was holding, “to be back home.” He quickly chugged down a glass of milk. “I hope they come to think of it in the same way as I do.” Wiping the milk off his lips with his sleeve, his gaze returned to Eva. The two had sat down at a table far enough from the newest members of the Resistance so they wouldn't be overheard. “Did any problems come up while I was gone?”

She shook her head. A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. “That would only be a yes if you include the usual trouble the children get into.”

“What was it this time?” he asked with mock worry, acting as if he was truly concerned about how they might have wreaked havoc on the base in his absence. Hearing about their actions never ceased to amuse him; usually they had good intentions and things went wrong from there.

“They tried baking a cake for Nick as a get well present. Let's just say that there was flour covering the walls for the rest of the week.”

The amusement quickly was replaced by guilt. Nick was the teacher for the children (and any adults, should they wish to learn anything), but he had fallen ill with the stomach bug before Ryder's departure. “I wish we had multiple teachers,” he dismally commented. “I should be trying harder to find some for the kids – they can't normal apprenticeships like other children-”

Eva placed her hand on his shoulder. “Ryder, having one teacher is alright. In fact, that's an amazing accomplishment. Only the major cities have them, and there's a small handful of them. Nick's better and back at teaching. You're doing fine.”

“...Still...”

Understanding that it was best to change the topic, she pointed at the new recruits. “It seems like they're done eating. Why don't you go explain everything to them now?”

He got to his feet. “Thanks, Eva.”

Her eyes - which were filled with an emptiness he knew was evident in his as well as the eyes of everyone else in the base – turned up as she gave him a gentle smile. “You're welcome.”

* * * * *


He chose to sit down next to Finnian, which placed him in the center of the table. Standing at the end was far too formal. He wanted them to feel at home, and he knew sitting among them was a good way to achieve that. “Living here involves a lot of training and interacting with other people. There is still plenty of free time for you to do whatever you like. I don't like the idea of taking away your freedom.” He paused. “If I did that, I would be the same as Notch.”

“Where are we staying?” Elora piped up.

“You'll be staying in dormitories. As of right now, everyone except Eva and I are expected to share rooms with someone else, save for anyone with special circumstances. We do have some people working on expanding the base, so you'll most likely be able to move into a room of your own in a month or two. I'll send your schedules to your respective dormitories – which I've already notified their current inhabitants about having to share – and then tomorrow you can officially start life here.”

Brinley, leaning over the table to see Ryder more clearly, asked, “What if we want to do something other than fight?”

He smiled. “We're very open here. If you want a different role, you would still be taught the basics of fighting in case Notch's forces attack. A lot of people here fall into that category. The teacher, chefs, and medics all do exactly that. We let people help in whatever ways they want. If that's on the front lines, so be it. But if that really isn't your thing, none of us hold it against you. Any other questions?”

There was none.

“If you ever have any, just come running to either me or Eva. Both of us would be happy to answer them. Now, off to the dormitories we go!”
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