[The Bronze Wood] Rolling Thunder

by **Markus Andres** on August 30th, 2013, 4:31 pm

Ghosts could be cut.

They could feel pain.

The expression of the little girl changed.

Markus regretted his decision.

Their embrace became tighter. The sword sunk deeper. The howl from the little girl tore right through Markus. He was stuck there. Motionless. Eyes watching the poor girl. The tears of blood trailing from her face. Horrified Markus wanted to turn his eyes away from her, but couldn't. Stuck watching a nightmare unfold before him. His mouth open, no words to respond to her accusation of betrayal. Why? He could give no real reply. Then the girl was gone. In a moment her accusing eyes staring deep into his soul, the next he looked at the dark forest behind her. Dead trees and flora. A long line of death. His eyes widened in surprise. Was she dead and gone? Forever. Despite the horror he felt at stabbing a little girl like that, watching the forest she had left dead and frozen. Perhaps it was for the better that she were gone. He had not intended to kill her for good. Just get her away from him and Fallon.

When words, came from behind him, Markus turned to watch her. There she were. Resting against a dead tree. A tree Markus swore was well and alive last he had seen it. The ghost was still in existence. He had not ended its afterlife for good. It brought a measure of relief to him but hardly enough to make up for stabbing the form of a little girl. Even if part of him tried to reassure him it was okay. She were a ghost. Not really a little girl. Little did it matter. Her words. Innocent. Stumbling. Heart wrenching. There was warmth in Markus' cheeks as warmer tears trailed down the cheeks. The rain hiding it from the people gathered there in the forest. But Markus felt them and he knew they were there.

His eyes turned away from the girl. Incapable of looking at her for just a moment longer. They fell upon the sword. His eyes furrowed when he noticed the strange black hue upon the blade. Was it the stormy darkness that played a trick on his eyes, or was it really coated in some strange substance. In either case, Markus dropped it blade first into the soft ground. It sticking out like a giant deadly cross. His fists clenched tightly. Damning himself for what he had done to the girl. Eyes going to the squire. There were words. Words Markus did not understand. In a tongue he cared little to understand. But Fallon looked as if she understood. He had been consumed in a rage so unlike him that he had not seen the squire for a long time. Ever since learning of her incident he had tried to avoid her, unable to look at her. Unable to react or do anything before finding vengeance.

It had been found. It had been exacted. Yet he had not visited her. Not gone to find her. Been an absent jerk. He had hesitated. No longer. Heavy boots sloshed through the developing mud. He would apologize to her now. Words of wisdom. Words of comfort and reassurance. Armour and body soaked to the core. He cared little. There were words not in that foreign tongue. Common words. Directed at the other ghost. There was a response. Markus cared little for the antics of ghosts. His heavy right hand found the shoulder of the squire. Getting her to turn and face him. Elegant and smooth apologies escaped his mind, eloquent and soothing words were denied his tongue. The knight stepped forward. Right arm slipped down behind her back, eyes locking upon hers. Pulling her closer. Markus leaned in close and let his lips press against hers.

by **Fallon** on August 30th, 2013, 8:40 pm

With sombre eyes the squire looked upon the ghost as she spoke within their shared tongue. There was

“The tone, the voice, the lay of the tongue, the great pressure… that scares mortals,” she begun, “You touched a tree and sucked away its life. You caused decay upon the ground beneath you. If a mortal sees that what else are they to expect? That all will be well?” There was a sharp intake of breath before the squire shook her head. There was no use in lecturing her, the damage had already been done, “Enough, nothing more will be gained from this talking.”

There was a pause, the grinding of metal against its sheath as the Kukri was returned to its holding, “There is no use, talking about vices and virtues in such circles. For all our definitions are jaded by our own experiences.”

Her head turned away, brow creased and looking towards the floor. She did not even flinch to the screeching of betrayal, the cry of a child who wallowed in defeat. There was the mumble of words as the growing sense of despair clung to the air and suffocated them. White knuckles clenched around the Kukri, the ethereal hand still hovering there ready to pounce and jab. She heard the atonement of Noaru, the acceptance of his own personal sins but not without reason. He did it to protect and ensure survival, nothing more or less.

And she could not judge that. Nor should anyone else.

The astral hand begun its slow return, the limb twisting and threading its way through. She gave a wince, as the pieces begun to click their way back into place. The pale skin caught the rain, the hair dark and plastered against her. The jaw clenched, the slung arm giving a twitch as her gaze remained averted. There was the dulled thud of steel sliding into the earth, the shake of a man who was torn by morals. Such was the weight of a Sylirian Knight. His heart had become heavy; she was not blind to that. Clunking steel, the groaning of armour, the heavy hand of the knight resting upon her shoulder. Eyes turned up to him as she watched him struggle to form words, those green eyes staring down at her.

Was there an order? Was he going to give her instruction? Her chin lifted slightly, her mind turning attentive to his commands. But those they did not come. The arm reach round, her soaked frame being reeled in.

Then it happened.

She could not think. The slate of scribbles and thoughts having been wiped clear in an instant. The wall of the mind had been brushed aside, letting the flaring emotions once held back by it bursting forth into life. No, more than simple life. Something more. There was the trembled and turn, lips quivering the tightening of the throat, her more able hand reached up to his face. Numb fingers hovered there, her chest heaving slightly. Her lips however remained against his and responded slightly.

Fallon pulled slightly away, eyes watering as the sudden flood of emotions came in. Scared. Frightened. A rise of terror. The emotions turned. Worry. Concern. A need to protect. The feeling of being weak and a failure ringing out. The intense white burning that she was nothing more than dirt. Grief struck soon after, her lips parting slightly.

Her fingers rubbed at her eyes. Petch, was she crying? Her head turned away, not out of embarrassment but of shame. She had shown weakness, she could not look at him like this. She needed to build that wall back up again. But, there was that nagging feeling once more that suffocating tremble that urged her to act upon emotions than thought.

Reaching for his cheek she rubbed her thumb against it before she returned to the closeness. Lips pressed against his. What was it the sense of calm it brought? This tiny fragment of peace in her current fragmentation. Eyes looked at him, searching almost for an answer in his own.

“I… I… we… you know…” she barely breathed to him, “Is this… I mean… Is this really…? Well… the time? Shall… we… he… head back?”

by **Fubuki Kouri** on August 31st, 2013, 9:26 am

Fubuki Kouri

"Ha... ha... aaah... uuuh... M..mama..." Kouri inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, clutching her stomach just below her navel, the swirling blackish wound, her soulmist expelling Noaru's from her body like antidote to poison. Her wound ever so slowly closing on itself. The blood tears still flowing down, but in a slower pace than previously. She heard the apology from Noaru... she didn't want anything to with him right now, but given time... she would understand his actions, he was just trying to protect Fallon.

"..........." She turned her head away and closed her eyes, still sobbing like the little girl she was. She dropped her body to the side, lying on the cold ground, sobbing and wretched. Grasping the dirt with her hands, she desperately hoped that her parents would come and comfort her right now, everyone else should just go die. Kouri felt like she didn't deserve all this... she felt that she didn't even deserve the power that had been given to her, it was all too much, why did fate had to grant her an enormous power but not the appropriate wisdom to control it?

"Kiiih!" She punched the ground once, frustrated at the situation, did the world expect her to endure all this? She was not a warrior like Razkar, not a knight like Ser Knight, not an ancient spirit like Noaru, not a scholarly squire like Fallon... she was just a little Vantha girl, just wanting to do good. Beneath her serrated tendrils, buzzing chakram, freezing death touch, and insane cackle; she was still a true little girl, being cursed with powers beyond her control.

"Uuuun..." She gave a - very weak - whimper at Fallon's wise words. It struck her like a full Talderan blizzard, she never thought that her "eating" snack through the trees and plants were wrong. They were just plants... like how one would eat a chicken, the chicken would die. She didn't thought that her act was deemed fearful. Again, this was prove that she didn't know the consequences of her own power. She nodded, acknowledging Fallon, and slowly closed her eyes. Deliberately closing herself from the outside world, dreaming of the memorable moments she spent with her parents, as a true Vantha. A small contented smile at the corner of her lips.

"Mama... Papa..."

With those little adorable longing whispers, she journeyed to the dreamscapes.

OOCAlright! This should be my last reply for the thread!

by **Noaru** on September 1st, 2013, 1:03 am

“ ”

Noaru turned away from Kouri without saying a word; he'd seen enough suffering. He moves on before Markus and Fallon, floating quietly, allowing himself to be alone before the knights two caught up to him. The spirit was tired; he'd possessed, materialized and coated a sword with his soulmist in one day. He deserved a long rest—a slumber of reason. Noaru felt a sense of accomplishment; he saved a life today but at the cost of causing another to suffer.

The spirit didn't regret his decision; he understood the consequences and accepted them. The prize he'd won in his gamble wasn't favorable but the results were quite different. The spirit momentarily gazed upon it before he left. The kiss between Markus and Fallon! A tightening feeling swelled-up within Noaru's chest, it felt disgusting to him, and it was confusing. The spirit shook-off the sensation, believing it to be a side-effect of him using so much of his soulmist.

“ What is love?”

He knew the suffering the dead went through but not the compassion and love the living knew. What were these concepts, could he to come to understand love? Noaru was fondly thinking of these two concepts before a searing pain surges through his body, causing him to jerk involuntarily. The idea of love was immediately rejected. Love was this foreign entity he couldn't understand, and the only thing being his sole true will was hate .

by **Markus Andres** on September 6th, 2013, 8:11 am

Cold wet lips pressed against each other. The squire's unresponsive at first, the shock? Yet the knight didn't care, for she had not pulled away. He embraced her smaller frame gently. Their lips remained close. Then her lips responded to his and Markus felt some of his weariness leave him. A little life return to him. She pulled back, parted their lips and Markus' eyes opened and looked at her. They were still close. Close enough that Markus could see the turmoil that his action had created. He felt guilty, especially when the tears showed themselves on her already wet cheeks. Had he been selfish in his desire? Her hand stroked his cheek as he looked into her eyes. His own shone with affection and face soft with care for the squire. Glad to see her again. Glad to have her in his arms.

Her lips found his again and Markus' lips responded. Her lips brushed away his worries that he had been selfish. When their lips parted again, Markus had a small smile on his lips, her words, quiet and rambling. Although dead trees surrounded them, both looking miserable and worse for wear. He could not help finding her stumbling over words cute. His smile only grew a little more listening to her.

"Not yet." 2 syllables, nice and short, otherwise he would have been the one stumbling over words. His lips would find hers again. But only briefly before thunder struck. Pulling him back to a bleak world of rain and mud. He would rather stand there, lips pressed against hers, but she were right. He was tired and cold, she were probably cold too and according to that ghost Noaru, she were injured. But standing there with her in his arms made everything a little brighter. He would break the kiss and look at her, softness replaced with worry and concern as he let a finger touch her wet cheek. "Are you hurt? Allu-" Barely had Markus breathed the word before his eyes widened as worry turned to shock and he looked around for the horse. If that little petching ghost had as much as touched a single hair on her, he would - But the imagines vengeances he would exact on the little ghost did not go far before he saw her standing under a nearby tree. Thankfully a living tree. Apparently war horses were made of sturdier stuff than Markus had realized, for had he been in her place, he would have run off and let the bipedal creatures to their antics. "Oh thank Sylir..." He whispered. "Alluia can carry you." Markus would offer her his shoulder to lean against. His right am ready to wrap around her and help her. He would also be ready to carry her should she so desire or was required. But he would hear no complaints, she were getting on Alluia - end of story! Markus could walk beside them or rather, lead them through the developing mud to the city. Couldn't be that far away. Once Fallon were securely on the warhorse, Markus' sword had been retrieved and a wide berth around the sleeping ghost had been made. They would be on their way back home to Syliras. Before they set off, however, Markus' mind sparked a curious thought and the mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes again.

"So, given any thought on what to say at your trial?" Markus would ask the squire suddenly. Looking back at her. Not yet breaking the serious façade. "I mean, disobeying a direct order like that. Requires at least a disciplinary hearing." Perhaps the wrong time to make a terrible joke. The obvious humour could be heard in his voice, as well as the relaxed, grinning expression on his face. A part of him wondered if Fallon would have kicked him then and there if she had been in range of him.

by **Fallon** on September 10th, 2013, 7:52 pm

It ended quickly after that.

Objection was not on her present mindset. In the freezing rain she gave a cling to him, a slight shiver as the finger gave a stroke. Lips twitched, her eyes meeting his before averting once more, “No, no I’m fine. Just the sling from…” she gave a pause, “Well the other day.”

Both knew what day she spoke about, and thus she went no further in talking about it. It was a bitter, painful memory that she did not wish to delve deeply into. She gave a frown, cold lips pursing together whilst the knight continued his request. There was no strength to argue with him, there was no energy to look back to the ghosts or where they were. Her mind was on other things. The warmth, the dry, him. She did not squirm away from his arm, letting him walk her to the horse Alluia. It was a massive beast to say the least; a true war horse that she was certain would easily match Javil in size. That was a true war horse and something she would eventually have to become adjusted to.

Fallon rubbed at her eyes as she slipped and slided through the mud, the strong arm for support leading her forward. His insistencies to climb up upon her back shortly followed, her small soaked frame set to jostling about in the saddle whilst the knight lead the way forward. Her better hand rested upon her lap, her shoulders hunching in to protect herself from the cold. Her shoulders gave a shake, the dull beat of hooves upon the earth reaching her ears. His question however caught the attention of her tired mind. For a moment she looked surprised, and then promptly lowered her head so it was of a closer level to his. She gave him a look, eyes cold and staring at him almost in disapproval, “Say’s he, the knight who is fraternizing with a squire.”

She reached her good hand out to him, leaning right over to get into reach and then gave a gentle tug at him. Her lips could not help but curl into a smile as gently pulled him back and kissed his forehead. Leaning back she gave him a silent regard, before shaking her head, “Let’s go home. I’ll let you discipline me later.”

And homeward bound was the direction indeed. There was nothing else to wait around for anymore, and the thoughts of the heat of a fire, dry rooms and a comfort from a bed was the only thing to call them home. She looked only a few times upon the back of the knight, eyes half closed with a warm feeling.

Thank you, Markus. For being here.

by **Perplexity** on October 10th, 2013, 1:36 pm

Riddled with Rewards!

Fallon

Philosophy	+4 XP
Observation	+2 XP
Socialization	+1 XP
Rhetoric	+1 XP

Lores :

Fubuki Kouri

Lores :

Noaru

Materialization	+1 XP
Possession	+2 XP
Soulmist Projection	+2 XP
Observation	+1 XP
Running	+1 XP

Lores :

Markus

Observation	+1 XP
Philosophy	+1 XP
Persuasion	+1 XP
Weapon: Longsword	+1 XP
Rhetoric	+1 XP

Lores :

Notes :

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