13th of Summer, 514 AV
Visiting the city from where he once lived, Marcus floated above the crowds of people that bustled through the streets that felt vague to him. Today he has visited various places in the city, such as The Great Bazaar, The Stone Garden and the new Fight Pit. For those who had breath would say that it was an exhausting, but for those without, like Marcus, would say it has been a great day. Marcus was now spending the rest of the day watch over the random strangers go about their own business. The sound of the people talking created a nice sound scape to listen to. Marcus floated to a nearby window and reclined against it. As he listened to the sounds of the city and watched the people walk by, he'd look up at the sky every so often to look at how it slowly changed from a bright blue to a golden orange. Every bell that past, the shadows on the ground grew bigger.
As Marcus's day was slowly coming to an end, he decided to head back to his dagger because he felt more comfortable resting within its rusted metal. However, the sound of children playing fell upon his ears. “Get back here Pig-Breath!” One of the kids yelled. Marcus turned his head to see the child who was yelling. What he saw were four children who looked around about twelve to fifteen years of age running through the street and eventually through alleyways. There were three kids who looked quite big compared to the small and surprisingly nimble child they were chasing.
“Im sorry!,” the small boy said, “But I can't give it to you!”
“That's not yours!” The boy who looked like the leader of the chase said.
“Oh? Did this boy steal something?” Marcus said to himself, “Hmm... I guess i'll see this little event unfold be fore I go. I do love chases.”
Marcus blinked above the running children, viewing the scene from above as a spectator. As the three boy kept yelling at the small boy, Marcus began to notice something. “Hey! Stop running!” the leader of the three boys yelled. This only made the boy run faster. “hmph...,” Marcus huffed as he crossed is harms in disappointment at the small boy, “I wouldn't do that if I were you, you are already far ahead.” The boy who was running his heart out soon realised he was out of breath. “Well... now what genius?” Marcus said, mocking the small boy.
“Quiet!” the small boy said. Marcus was surprised.
“Did this boy... hear me?” The three other boys caught up with the small one and forced him into a corner in the alleyway. The small boy looked quite scared, and why shouldn't he be? He was out numbered by boys that were obvious stronger than him. He was tired from running and only had enough stamina to make one attempt to flee. As the boys closed in, the small ones chance of escape is wares thin. It was now or never for the boy. As soon as he saw the opening for his escape he took it. Rushing towards his only exit, the boy leaped and could feel the air rushing past him. He could feel freedom, he could feel his escape. Suddenly an arm extends, and grabs the scruff of this first. “Where do you think you are going?” one of the boys said, throwing the small one violently to the ground. The two minions of the leader backed away, but kept a look out for people they mind come by. The leader of the boys picked the boy up by the front of his collar and pulled him close to his face. “Give... it... to... me...” the boy said, demanding something from the small one.
“Did this kid steal all this guys gold rimmed mizas or something?” Marcus said to himself.
“I told you the pebble doesn't belong to you” the small one said. Marcus jaw lowered and he felt like a giant rock of stupidity dropped upon his head. “What!?” Marcus exclaimed, “I pebble? A bit of stone is what they are fighting over?”Marcus rubbed his eyes and temples. “Kids, these day... getting into fight over stupid things...” Marcus said, heaving a sigh.
“Just give me the damn thing!” the boy demanded, lifting the boy higher.
“No.” the small one quickly replied, Angering the boy. Marcus was some what pleased with the small one's resistance to the boy's demands and inimidation. “Heheh, You're a stubborn one, aren't you. Were kinda like me in the-”
SMACK!!
The sound of flesh being struck with something blunt cut Marcus off mid sentence. The small one was on the ground. His cheek slowly reddened. He looked up at the boy slightly dazed. Marcus could see the little pools of tears that began welling up in the corner of his eyes. “Not only in this boy bigger than this kid, he violent too” Marcus commented.
“Aww... Did I hurt you by accident? You could of avoided it easily if you gave me the Petchin' pebble!”
“Such language... Should he even be old enough to say that?”
“I'll say it one more time,” The boy said, towering over the small one, “ give... me the stone.”
The small boy looked at the boy, almost on the verge of tears. His mouth opened.
“N-”
SMACK!!
The boy hadn't even completed his word and he received a heavily blow from the boy. This boy was brutal. Marcus floated above the scene, wondering when the hero will come to save the small child.
The small boy began to cry and the boy who hit him twice looked angered by his tears. The boy became frustrated at the small one's refusal and began to vent his frustration in the form he only knew, violence. As the small one continued crying, The boy called one of his minions to throw him a size able plank of wood. The minion looked reluctant to follow his leaders will, but obeyed once he saw his bosses death stare. “This isn't my fault, should of handed it to me.” the boy said waiting for his weapon.
“Seriously... all this over a pebble? Are these guys stupid?” Marcus said, shaking his head at the children, “and 'who' is going to save this child? Could someone hurry up?”
A few moments later, the boy received his weapon, to which the small one reacted by crying louder and scampering backwards. The boy menacing walked towards the boy, holding the placing of wood above his head, ready to swing. The small one scampering eventually cam to a halt as his back touched a wall, preventing him to escape. The boy drew closer to the boy with anger in his eyes. In a heartbeat, the wood plummeted to the next to the boy. The sound echoed through out the alley. However, the sound didn't only sound wood against stone... One on the small boys fingers was caught in the blow. “Argh!” the boy screamed in pain. The intensity of his voice truly reflected how much pain he was in. “Heh... That was a warning shot,” the boy huffed, “I'll give you one chance to give me the pebble or Tom Pia will be saying goodnight..”
“Pai...?” Marcus repeated, “Sounds so familiar... Pia... Pia... Pia...”
The small boy didn't respond, instead he just stared at the boy frozen in fear. The boy took is silence as a “no” and pulled an angered expression. The boy began to raise the plank into the air.
“Pai... Pai.. Pai...,” Marcus continued pondering, “Pai... Pai... was... a... friend... friend..? friend?!”
Marcus blinked...
As the boy lifted the plank in the air, Marcus appeared behind him and placed his hand on his shoulder, focusing on materialising it so it may interacting with the living world. Marcus frosty touch didn't cause pain, instead it caused an unsettling feeling. The boy looked behind himself to see who touch him, but he saw no one. When he turned back, the look on the small ones face looked as if he saw a ghost. “a... hand...,” the small one named Tom said, “... you have a white hand on your shoulder...”
“What did you-” the boy frozen as the feeling moved slowly from his shoulder to his neck. Marcus was holding the boy close to his mouth, grinning with a somewhat sadistic smile.
“I'm sorry to ruin this play... but... I need this boy” Marcus whispered into the boys ear. His soulmist filled breath blew across the boys skin. It was cold as ice and cause the hair on his neck to raise. The boy turned quickly, but saw nothing. The once angered berserk is now a frightened kitten. He didn't know what was happening. Marcus then looked at the boy, still bearing his smile, as he finally decided to finish the boy. Marcus's body bursts into mist...
The boy froze. He just stood there as if he was petrified like wood. Then his fingers twitched then his head began shaking. With a big scream of terror the boy head eerily whipped back, facing the sky. He then returned to a standard standing position before facing Tom with a grin blood thirsty grin on his face and eyes that were out of focus.
Deep within the boy's mind, something different was taking place. “Where am I?!” the boy shouted as he saw an unfamiliar area. Every direction he looked, all he could see was darkness. “Isn't it obvious?” Marcus said as he appeared before the boy before his eyes. Marcus, or at least his subconscious was with sitting by a posh looking table, sipping a glass of tea. “We are within your mind. I'd thought you'd recognise it seeing how empty it is” Marcus insulted the boy.
“Hey! Who are you!? Tell me!!” the boy demanded. However, the only answer he received was a cold gaze from Marcus's eyes. The boy's bravery waver slightly at Marcus's silence.
“If you don't tell me I'll-”
“Stop right there,” Marcus said, sipping his tea, “I wouldn't take another step further if I were you...” Marcus looked at the boy as his teeth slowly sharpened. Marcus smiled as the boy with a look of murderous intent.
“I wouldn't want you to suffer a face like this...” Marcus sipped his teas before grabbing hold of one of his cheeks on his face. Slowly, Marcus tugged on the flesh and slowly, small tears grew and eventually Marcus pulled off his cheek, exposing the bloody muscles that lied under. The boy was in shock. He couldn't move. He couldn't scream.
“By the way... how is your head?” Marcus said as blood dripped from the edge of his face. The boy didn't understand when he meant until his head began to hurt. The pain grew more pain as each moment passed. The boy cried in agony as Marcus sipped his tea. “Hmm... looks like i'm almost out of tea, I guess I should be leaving soon.” He said, taking one final sip of he tea before the glass shatters in his hand.
Smack! Whack! Crack!
Back in the real world, Tom and the boys two minions didn't know how to react to what they saw.
Smack! Whack! Crack!
The sound of wood bashing against skin and bone slowly became softer and softer as the body collapsed to the ground. Blood dripping from his forehead and his eyes rolled back into his skull, the boy had passed out. The two minions didn't know what happen, but they knew that they had to retreat. They carried their leader and gave a quick glace at Tom with frightful and confused expressions. Tom wasn't quite sure what had happened himself, but he knew that some sort of force help him. “Are you still there?” Tom asked, but it seemed like the force was gone. Tom hoped that this force would visit him again when he wasn't in trouble to thank him, but for now he needed to see his mum about the injury he had with his hand.
Deep in the forest, a tree stood with a rusty dagger plunged deep into it's trunk. Within the Rusty knife lied a ghost who was resting, and pondering his thoughts.
“Hey? What's your name?”
mark
“Can I call you Mark? Im **** Pai. Want to be friends?”
“hahah, I'm glad im buddies with you”
“Mark, It's a trap and you know it. Don't be stupid.”
“Mark!! Where are you!?”
“Mark! Mark!? Mark!?”
Marcus gasped as he awoken from his ghostly slumber. “Pia...”
Visiting the city from where he once lived, Marcus floated above the crowds of people that bustled through the streets that felt vague to him. Today he has visited various places in the city, such as The Great Bazaar, The Stone Garden and the new Fight Pit. For those who had breath would say that it was an exhausting, but for those without, like Marcus, would say it has been a great day. Marcus was now spending the rest of the day watch over the random strangers go about their own business. The sound of the people talking created a nice sound scape to listen to. Marcus floated to a nearby window and reclined against it. As he listened to the sounds of the city and watched the people walk by, he'd look up at the sky every so often to look at how it slowly changed from a bright blue to a golden orange. Every bell that past, the shadows on the ground grew bigger.
As Marcus's day was slowly coming to an end, he decided to head back to his dagger because he felt more comfortable resting within its rusted metal. However, the sound of children playing fell upon his ears. “Get back here Pig-Breath!” One of the kids yelled. Marcus turned his head to see the child who was yelling. What he saw were four children who looked around about twelve to fifteen years of age running through the street and eventually through alleyways. There were three kids who looked quite big compared to the small and surprisingly nimble child they were chasing.
“Im sorry!,” the small boy said, “But I can't give it to you!”
“That's not yours!” The boy who looked like the leader of the chase said.
“Oh? Did this boy steal something?” Marcus said to himself, “Hmm... I guess i'll see this little event unfold be fore I go. I do love chases.”
Marcus blinked above the running children, viewing the scene from above as a spectator. As the three boy kept yelling at the small boy, Marcus began to notice something. “Hey! Stop running!” the leader of the three boys yelled. This only made the boy run faster. “hmph...,” Marcus huffed as he crossed is harms in disappointment at the small boy, “I wouldn't do that if I were you, you are already far ahead.” The boy who was running his heart out soon realised he was out of breath. “Well... now what genius?” Marcus said, mocking the small boy.
“Quiet!” the small boy said. Marcus was surprised.
“Did this boy... hear me?” The three other boys caught up with the small one and forced him into a corner in the alleyway. The small boy looked quite scared, and why shouldn't he be? He was out numbered by boys that were obvious stronger than him. He was tired from running and only had enough stamina to make one attempt to flee. As the boys closed in, the small ones chance of escape is wares thin. It was now or never for the boy. As soon as he saw the opening for his escape he took it. Rushing towards his only exit, the boy leaped and could feel the air rushing past him. He could feel freedom, he could feel his escape. Suddenly an arm extends, and grabs the scruff of this first. “Where do you think you are going?” one of the boys said, throwing the small one violently to the ground. The two minions of the leader backed away, but kept a look out for people they mind come by. The leader of the boys picked the boy up by the front of his collar and pulled him close to his face. “Give... it... to... me...” the boy said, demanding something from the small one.
“Did this kid steal all this guys gold rimmed mizas or something?” Marcus said to himself.
“I told you the pebble doesn't belong to you” the small one said. Marcus jaw lowered and he felt like a giant rock of stupidity dropped upon his head. “What!?” Marcus exclaimed, “I pebble? A bit of stone is what they are fighting over?”Marcus rubbed his eyes and temples. “Kids, these day... getting into fight over stupid things...” Marcus said, heaving a sigh.
“Just give me the damn thing!” the boy demanded, lifting the boy higher.
“No.” the small one quickly replied, Angering the boy. Marcus was some what pleased with the small one's resistance to the boy's demands and inimidation. “Heheh, You're a stubborn one, aren't you. Were kinda like me in the-”
SMACK!!
The sound of flesh being struck with something blunt cut Marcus off mid sentence. The small one was on the ground. His cheek slowly reddened. He looked up at the boy slightly dazed. Marcus could see the little pools of tears that began welling up in the corner of his eyes. “Not only in this boy bigger than this kid, he violent too” Marcus commented.
“Aww... Did I hurt you by accident? You could of avoided it easily if you gave me the Petchin' pebble!”
“Such language... Should he even be old enough to say that?”
“I'll say it one more time,” The boy said, towering over the small one, “ give... me the stone.”
The small boy looked at the boy, almost on the verge of tears. His mouth opened.
“N-”
SMACK!!
The boy hadn't even completed his word and he received a heavily blow from the boy. This boy was brutal. Marcus floated above the scene, wondering when the hero will come to save the small child.
The small boy began to cry and the boy who hit him twice looked angered by his tears. The boy became frustrated at the small one's refusal and began to vent his frustration in the form he only knew, violence. As the small one continued crying, The boy called one of his minions to throw him a size able plank of wood. The minion looked reluctant to follow his leaders will, but obeyed once he saw his bosses death stare. “This isn't my fault, should of handed it to me.” the boy said waiting for his weapon.
“Seriously... all this over a pebble? Are these guys stupid?” Marcus said, shaking his head at the children, “and 'who' is going to save this child? Could someone hurry up?”
A few moments later, the boy received his weapon, to which the small one reacted by crying louder and scampering backwards. The boy menacing walked towards the boy, holding the placing of wood above his head, ready to swing. The small one scampering eventually cam to a halt as his back touched a wall, preventing him to escape. The boy drew closer to the boy with anger in his eyes. In a heartbeat, the wood plummeted to the next to the boy. The sound echoed through out the alley. However, the sound didn't only sound wood against stone... One on the small boys fingers was caught in the blow. “Argh!” the boy screamed in pain. The intensity of his voice truly reflected how much pain he was in. “Heh... That was a warning shot,” the boy huffed, “I'll give you one chance to give me the pebble or Tom Pia will be saying goodnight..”
“Pai...?” Marcus repeated, “Sounds so familiar... Pia... Pia... Pia...”
The small boy didn't respond, instead he just stared at the boy frozen in fear. The boy took is silence as a “no” and pulled an angered expression. The boy began to raise the plank into the air.
“Pai... Pai.. Pai...,” Marcus continued pondering, “Pai... Pai... was... a... friend... friend..? friend?!”
Marcus blinked...
As the boy lifted the plank in the air, Marcus appeared behind him and placed his hand on his shoulder, focusing on materialising it so it may interacting with the living world. Marcus frosty touch didn't cause pain, instead it caused an unsettling feeling. The boy looked behind himself to see who touch him, but he saw no one. When he turned back, the look on the small ones face looked as if he saw a ghost. “a... hand...,” the small one named Tom said, “... you have a white hand on your shoulder...”
“What did you-” the boy frozen as the feeling moved slowly from his shoulder to his neck. Marcus was holding the boy close to his mouth, grinning with a somewhat sadistic smile.
“I'm sorry to ruin this play... but... I need this boy” Marcus whispered into the boys ear. His soulmist filled breath blew across the boys skin. It was cold as ice and cause the hair on his neck to raise. The boy turned quickly, but saw nothing. The once angered berserk is now a frightened kitten. He didn't know what was happening. Marcus then looked at the boy, still bearing his smile, as he finally decided to finish the boy. Marcus's body bursts into mist...
The boy froze. He just stood there as if he was petrified like wood. Then his fingers twitched then his head began shaking. With a big scream of terror the boy head eerily whipped back, facing the sky. He then returned to a standard standing position before facing Tom with a grin blood thirsty grin on his face and eyes that were out of focus.
Deep within the boy's mind, something different was taking place. “Where am I?!” the boy shouted as he saw an unfamiliar area. Every direction he looked, all he could see was darkness. “Isn't it obvious?” Marcus said as he appeared before the boy before his eyes. Marcus, or at least his subconscious was with sitting by a posh looking table, sipping a glass of tea. “We are within your mind. I'd thought you'd recognise it seeing how empty it is” Marcus insulted the boy.
“Hey! Who are you!? Tell me!!” the boy demanded. However, the only answer he received was a cold gaze from Marcus's eyes. The boy's bravery waver slightly at Marcus's silence.
“If you don't tell me I'll-”
“Stop right there,” Marcus said, sipping his tea, “I wouldn't take another step further if I were you...” Marcus looked at the boy as his teeth slowly sharpened. Marcus smiled as the boy with a look of murderous intent.
“I wouldn't want you to suffer a face like this...” Marcus sipped his teas before grabbing hold of one of his cheeks on his face. Slowly, Marcus tugged on the flesh and slowly, small tears grew and eventually Marcus pulled off his cheek, exposing the bloody muscles that lied under. The boy was in shock. He couldn't move. He couldn't scream.
“By the way... how is your head?” Marcus said as blood dripped from the edge of his face. The boy didn't understand when he meant until his head began to hurt. The pain grew more pain as each moment passed. The boy cried in agony as Marcus sipped his tea. “Hmm... looks like i'm almost out of tea, I guess I should be leaving soon.” He said, taking one final sip of he tea before the glass shatters in his hand.
Smack! Whack! Crack!
Back in the real world, Tom and the boys two minions didn't know how to react to what they saw.
Smack! Whack! Crack!
The sound of wood bashing against skin and bone slowly became softer and softer as the body collapsed to the ground. Blood dripping from his forehead and his eyes rolled back into his skull, the boy had passed out. The two minions didn't know what happen, but they knew that they had to retreat. They carried their leader and gave a quick glace at Tom with frightful and confused expressions. Tom wasn't quite sure what had happened himself, but he knew that some sort of force help him. “Are you still there?” Tom asked, but it seemed like the force was gone. Tom hoped that this force would visit him again when he wasn't in trouble to thank him, but for now he needed to see his mum about the injury he had with his hand.
Deep in the forest, a tree stood with a rusty dagger plunged deep into it's trunk. Within the Rusty knife lied a ghost who was resting, and pondering his thoughts.
“Hey? What's your name?”
mark
“Can I call you Mark? Im **** Pai. Want to be friends?”
“hahah, I'm glad im buddies with you”
“Mark, It's a trap and you know it. Don't be stupid.”
“Mark!! Where are you!?”
“Mark! Mark!? Mark!?”
Marcus gasped as he awoken from his ghostly slumber. “Pia...”
I got the impression that you treated Syliras like an ordinary medieval city in your first post, if it isn't the case, then good!
