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    NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Alwe
    Alwe

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    Private NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Alwe 13th August 2018, 4:35 pm


    Talonia was a great point of congregation for many of society’s loners. Rogues of the north, wanderers of the west, stragglers of the south, and merchants from the east all met in the homely town. The atmosphere was much different than the usual city of Fiore, but the Dreamweaver was becoming quite fond of it. An air of gloom floated lowly in the air of the town while the typically-guildless mages flitted from street to street. Such a place attracted the ravenous nightmare that fed on negative emotions and ‘vibes’.

    Of course, a very specific wave of depression and misery was quick to catch the Dreamweaver’s interest. The Dreamweaver chose the form of a young blonde woman with a crop-top shirt and denim shorts. With a sly smile on her face, the creature of surreality began to lock in on the source she was looking for. This was a street in the poorer districts of Talonia, but made a great place for an audience or mob if Veronika needed it. She anticipated a good meal from what was about to come and would wisely bide her time. It was best to take these things slow to ensure success, after all.



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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Guest 22nd August 2018, 11:26 am

    She still found it strange, picking jobs to do in the middle of the street instead of a comfy guild hall. Being out in the open like this- she never thought she would have to do it. But here she was, in the middle of Talonia, just a few blocks from where she reunited with Lucius, staring up at the large wooden board with various colorful notes and official papers tacked onto it. Usually these days? She got her jobs from the magic council. Rarely did she feel like seeking one out herself, rather she allowed the magic council to choose for her, since she was kind of obligated to take those ones anyway. She had let her nerves get to her a little too much. She was too scared to even go on jobs now, afraid that if she did along the way Fluffy would find her and finish off the job. Perhaps she was too paranoid, and most likely she was. The elf had always been a little bit of a drama queen, blowing the smallest things way out of proportion. But when her own and the ones she loved lives in great trouble? This wasn't drastic enough.

    She needed money. That eight million jewel she gave Izayuki towards her guild had kind of sucked her dry. Sure, she did have some money left from her guild master days, but that was only going to last her so long before it got too few to live on. So she had to swallow her fear and actually go on a job. She didn't care what. D-rank, 100y. They would give her money. She never thought before that she would go on a job purely for the money, that was never her main intention. She was all about helping people. But right now, she couldn't help other people if she couldn't help herself.

    Her one crimson eye stared at the board as she stood nervously in front of it, looking for one that would be easy enough to finish quickly, but high enough pay for it to be worth it.
    Making sure she didn't draw attention due to her status she wore her familiar lavender cloak, pulling the hood of it down more to make sure her face was hidden. She glanced from side to side every couple of seconds, just to check her surroundings. The new sights and senses made her even more on edge than she already was.
    Alwe
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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Alwe 22nd August 2018, 12:12 pm


    There she was-- the target of tasty depression. The woman wore a cloak and hood, her face unable to be seen, but view of the face was not what the Dreamweaver needed in order to work her tactics. Taking the form of a pale-feathered lovebird, the nightmare took flight and would attempt to alight on top of the lavender-cloaked mage’s head. The avian gave a few delighted beeps while quietly was basking in the doses of the white dragon slayer’s memories. So delightful, with much potential. Were they in a form that did not have a dry stubby tongue and a hard beak, they would have been licking their lips at the crisp anxiety and depression.

    The bird would stay alighted on Astrid’s head so long as the mage allowed-- perhaps the domestic avian would be a false sense of comfort to the silvernette. If the mage threw her off, she would simply fly away to a hidden area and watch. Nearby, the Dreamweaver began to pull images from surreality to be seen and heard. Two ‘mages’ look at the job board too would begin talking. “Have you heard?” one tawny-haired child spoke to a red-haired middle-aged man in a cheery tone. “The ‘Sinner of Sloth’- Lucius Foss, has finally been killed!”

    “Is that so? That’s wonderful to hear-- one less criminal to show their ugly face in our cities. Unfortunately that may mean less work for us when we wish to go on more difficult jobs,” the ginger-haired mage replied with a hearty laugh to his smaller comrade before continuing. “How did that sinner meet his end, anyway?”
    The tawny-haired mage grinned, delighted to spread the “news”. “It's ambiguous. I heard it was a giant, wild, fluffy cat! The cat had two tails and used fire magic. Quite a way to die, am I right?” he answered in good humor, his companion nodding his head as they began to muse more on the ideas of sinners and giant fluffy cats.

    The bird simply watched on, beeping to itself, wondering just what sort of reaction it would begin to feel from their subject of interest.



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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Guest 22nd August 2018, 1:01 pm

    Vulcan rescue, rabid bunny elimination, flowering picking. None of these jobs paid high enough for her to be interested in. What kind of jobs were these supposed to be? She could have sworn that Vulcan rescue jobs paid higher in guilds. She remembered going on that job with Lucius and Caelum. When they were in a guild, it was basically double the jewel. Were these bias against guildless mages or something? How could the magic council allow such a thing to happen? Of all days she missed being a guild mage, this was defiantly one of them. The elf let out a sigh. Tired of searching through these ridiculous jobs the little thump upon the top of her head was almost missed if the small bird had not began letting out light chirps. The saint blinked, tearing her gaze away from the board and gazing upwards. A small smile graced her lips when she looked upon the pale colored creature, amused that it took a liking to her head. "Are you looking for a job too, mister birdy?" she mused to herself, mostly since she knew the creature wouldn't understand her. As weird as it was, the bird's presence did bring a weird sort of comfort to the girl, being the animal lover she was. She missed the days in Peace Village when she was younger where she could go exploring in the woods. She always did like to hear the morning songs of the birds from outside her window, and now she was back in the village it was a familiarly she welcomed back greatly.

    But, as much as she wished the bird could give her some sort of advice on which job to take, it couldn't. So, back to the board it was. A little less nervous now due to the presence of her avian friend she looked back, trying to see if there was maybe one good one she had missed.
    It was during her searching, that she couldn't help but overhear a few people's conversations. This town was full of guildless mages, all looking for work. And with this being one of the only places you can get it, it was only obvious that it was rather crowded. Not to the point where it was suffocating, rather just a mild nuisance. Some of these rowdy conversations she could have done without having to listen to. But one in particular, was one she could have done without having to hear the most. Two chipper mages talking about a subject she was rather sensitive to. Sinners. Rather, her brother. The sinner of sloth. As soon as they even mentioned his name her heart dropped instantly, her gaze freezing onto the last paper she had scanned, her mouth agape.

    ... Killed? By a cat? Lucius... Killed. Her skin grew cold, her head feeling light and fuzzy. She wasn't even sure how she was still standing right now, but she was, frozen in place. He had been killed? Just after she finally found him again?...
    Her hand flexed, unsure of how to react, before she sped off towards his cramped apartment. To those in front of the board the light mage would look as though she had just teleported out of there, and to a few others they would get knocked down by the blinding light running into them. The bird atop her head? Could possibly hang on if it chose to. But Astrid wasn't thinking about that right now. She just needed to check on him, to see if what they said were true. Rumors may be that, rumors. But to every lie they was a grain of truth. The silvernette wasn't taking any chances.
    Though unsure of where exactly his apartment was again she had managed to sense some of his soul wavelength remnants throughout the city and followed the trail they created. They were fresh, which was promising to the saint. A few twists, a few turns, and she was there in only but a split second. She skidded to a halt when she reached the front of the tall and shabby building, gazing upwards towards the floor he was on. Even from here, she could sense his soul. He was alive, and well. Not even a scratch or wounded.
    Filled with relief the girl's legs gave out and she plopped onto the cold pavement below, not disconnecting her eyes away from the room. She let out a sigh, clutching her hand to her heart as it raced a million miles per hour. That was close, too close. She couldn't take another relative's death, not right now. Then again, how did such a horrid rumor start anyway?
    A red eye looked up to the bird perched on her head. "You heard what i heard, right?" Don't tell her she was going crazy. She couldn't live with herself if she ended up being that crazy old lady with twenty cats living on the street corner with kids throwing rocks and toilet paper at her windows. She couldn't afford to keep replacing those.
    Alwe
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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Alwe 22nd August 2018, 2:21 pm


    The bird only beeped more at the slayer’s question-- false hope, yes, that was what the avian was instilling. The dramatic change in the air when Astrid overheard what was going on was enjoyed by the Dreamweaver, who began to absorb the tasteful shock and fear. They had no time to continue the banter of the two strangers when the slayer suddenly dashed forward. Talons hanging tight onto the hood, wings flapped violently in avian surprise to steady itself atop Astrid’s head. Finally after the blinding dash, the silvernette came to a stop near the large and old apartment.

    For a few more seconds, the nightmare continued to read the material she could possibly use in the elf’s mind. One memory stood out in particular that made the dream giddy-- a being known as ‘Erika’ who had quite the repertoire. They would have to pay the dragon a visit one day. Further observation of Lucius brought the Dreamweaver to a quick decision. The surprise and fear was short lived and barely gave the hungry being of surreality more than a few tasty morsels. They would have to work harder to enjoy a long meal from the saint’s emotions. In response to the question regarding what she had heard, the lovebird only stared blankly into the air with dark and soulless orbs. It gave a few beeps in response but continued to ‘not understand’. A few more seconds passed, and the beeping bird grew tired of the lavender hood perch. It took flight and flapped on up to the floor where it had clairvoyantly seen the boy from her mind; her brother, Lucius. The window was open slightly and the bird squeezed its way in.

    Lucius never saw it coming… both literally and figuratively. The surreal being that lacked a soul and spirit slipped into the mind and body of the Fallen God Slayer. Within heartbeats, the Dreamweaver had assumed full control of the raven-haired man. In possession of his mind and body, the nightmare stifled his soul and bound up his spirit so that resistance would be futile until it chose to relinquish control. In a way, this man was one hell of a feast on his own, with a haunting past and a mind full of strife, chaos, and crippling depression. Using the sinner to provoke the wizard saint would be the most perfect combination. Despite being blind, his other senses were heightened enough so that the slayer could be smelled and sensed from many meters away. On top of that, every single person’s shadow could be quite easily detected. Utilizing the shadows for mobility, “Lucius” would appear behind his adoptive sister in within the blink of an eye. Cane in hand, the god slayer would strike the shadow of Astrid-- a sharp but minor hit for the sake of instilling shock and uncertainty, the first steps in breaking someone’s mind.




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    Post by Guest 22nd August 2018, 4:39 pm

    Watching her bird friend fly into the sky she felt a bit of sorrow in it. Of course, it was only a creature, a beast. It did not owe her anything and most likely only perched upon her head for a rest. But as the bird left, so did her comfort. Something wasn't right here- something was very off. Was it her paranoid nerves? Perhaps. But whenever she felt like this it normally turned out she was right in the first place, so she had a right to assume something actually was wrong. Why did those people say her brother was dead when he was the opposite? Granted, something could be messing with her soul sensing ability, and normally just to be safe rather than sorry she would go up and check on him, but even from glancing around the area she just wasn't sure what was going on.

    Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere a fast but softened pain pierced the fallen girl's body. She let out a grunt, almost falling over forwards but managed to catch herself with her hands into her knees. She turned her head around, glaring at the figure for a moment or two before her gaze lightened into a questioning stare. "... Lucius?" Whatever curse word she was about to spout out was buried back down as her looked upon her tall brother. Well, look at that. Looks like she wouldn't have to go up and look for him anyway. He was right here. Talk about that timing. Astrid took a moment to stand to her feet, smiling, her unnerve slowly easing away now with a familiar face. "Don't do that, you scared me half to death. Also be a little less rough next time, that actually kind of hurt." She warned him, rubbing her side a little where she had felt the most pain. Seeing as how it was normal sibling behavior to greet one another so roughly (at least with them) she thought nothing of it, and just payback from when she almost broke his arm last time they met. Done soothing the warm pain on her skin her crimson eyes shone brightly, just happy he seemed to be alright. "At least you're okay. I heard this strange rumor that you had gotten killed, so i was worried. But looks like it was lie, thank the gods."
    Alwe
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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Alwe 24th August 2018, 9:18 pm


    The Dreamweaver could feel the unease beginning to ebb away, melting slowly into peace once again. The being of surreality did not mind it too much. Stark contrast and shock was the diving board to one spicy meal, after all. He would let her enjoy the calmness and ease for the moment. It would fade away quickly. For some reason, the saint only saw the literal jab as harmless; a simple accident or something of the kind. Playful, really. She was at least right that the nightmare was playing, but he had much more in store for the airheaded slayer.

    The dark-haired man nodded at his name being mentioned and cracked a small grin at the request to be less rough. Though he was blind and his eyes clearly showed that he was seeing nothing, the Dreamweaver could see everything vividly. Fortunately the heightened senses were a plus, and the strength in his powerful body. In combination with the nightmare’s ability, who mimicked the strength of Astrid and stacked it with his, he would be quite fierce in what was to come. “What a terrible rumor, but I’m right here, just fine,” he commented, pausing before continuing. “And, to clarify you don’t wish for me to greet you like this?”

    With the last word, the Sinner drove his cane into the shadow once more, but with far more force than before. The force contained the full strength of the man and a decent amount of the strength of the saint. Shadows certainly were fun to play with; once this was all over, the nightmare made plans to experiment with the shadow element more to see what sorts of fun could be had with it.



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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Guest 25th August 2018, 10:24 pm

    Of course it was just a rumor. But, even though the thought of a rumor had always been there, the slayer couldn't help but feel relief that it really was just all a lie. She had just lost her grandfather after all, only but about five months prior. Another relative death? Would only begin to make her think there was some curse among the family. She couldn't take losing anyone else, not again. Especially not Lucius. The boy had been at death's door many times during the adventure into magehood, which was perhaps why she was so protective of him. So to hear a rumor such as that, no one could not entirely blame her for trusting the tiny bit of truth that might have been there.
    Lucius agreed with her, about the rumor before affirming he was still alive. It wasn't much, but him confirming that also made her feel better. Feeling overwhelmed with the emotions she had just exerted during her search she was about to go in for a hug when instead he hit her shadow with his cane again. But this time, it actually hurt quite a bit. Before was basically just a thump on the head. This... Was something much more. The great force that consumed her body made the elf wince back, her small frame covered in a wave of fiery pain. Like getting a nail jabbed into you, and then quickly removed. It jabbed into her side, causing her to instinctively cover it with her hands. Her teeth gritted together, to stop herself from letting out too loud of a grunt. She stared at the pavement for a second, letting the pain subside into a numbing warmth before she looked back up at him, silver eyebrows narrowed. "Hey! What's the big idea? I told you to stop." But then realization hit, and her angered look turned into pure smug. Her lips curved into a small smile, her crimson gaze lightening. Ah, she got it now. He was teasing her, in his sibling-like way. He was never much of a lover, not like her. He always liked to show his affection in other ways, which she just learned to deal with. "Ah, i see. Going to be like this now, are we? Well then..."

    In a blink of an eye she would appear closer to the man in her usual flash of light, grabbing his arm with great force and placing both her hands on his wrist, squeezing them tightly before pushing them in opposite directions, Indian Burn style. "Say uncle!" Astrid laughed, almost evily for a girl who was supposed to be a saint. But what could she say? This was just how the siblings were.
    Alwe
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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Alwe 26th August 2018, 7:26 pm


    The quick shot of anger was an enticing sample to the emotion-consuming dream being. Triggering pain always brought about enjoyable reactions. Unfortunately, the flash of anger was short lived and replaced with something far more playful. This girl truly was dense-- it had to make the Dreamweaver wonder how she had even stumbled through her life into the role that made her so popular. To the nightmare, Astrid was legitimate proof either of the fact that there was a god and he had a great sense of humor, or that sheer luck truly did exist and had a fondness for the slayer.

    The mischievous glance disappeared when the silvernette blinked away in a bright flash and reappeared next to the raven-haired man. Two hands suddenly latched onto his wrist and began to squeeze and burn from her movements. She was certainly overbearingly strong-- the sensation of pain was rarely felt by the Dreamweaver, who could only experience any kind of true physical contact or sense when possessing a physical body. The feeling was weird and the Dreamweaver could not help but release a chuckle at the humor of the situation and sensation. The discomfort was amusing.

    Deciding it would be fun to try and use the fallen god slayer’s magic a little more, the sinner released a high pitched whistle after his few soft chuckles. A sharp line of unholy shadows from the ground would stab upwards, aiming to go through the light slayer’s calve and out the other side. “Uncle!” he responded with a smirk, mirroring the evil laughs of his ‘sister’.



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    Post by Guest 26th August 2018, 11:44 pm

    The fact that her brother was standing as tall as a brick wall despite the immense amount of pain she was putting him through should have been the first sign to the slayer that something was wrong. Usually, by now he would be writhing in pain, giving in to her demands of reciting the word over and over. Even if it was fake, the shadow mage would always let her win, just to get her to stop pestering him. But all he did was chuckle as she applied the pressure, almost too darkly for him.
    Her grip upon his wrist weakened a bit and she looked up to his giant figure, silver eyebrows creased in worry that she may have finally drove him insane. But she didn't have enough time to think about it too much as a fiery pain pieced into her calve. She winced back, releasing the man to instinctively press onto the painful area. But as she went to do so, she looked down, seeing the solid shadow sticking into it and clean out the other end. It hurt, it really did. But there had been worse pain in her life. It wasn't enough to faze her too much, basically like a big needle in her leg. What was hurting more, was who did it to her. There was only one shadow mage around her. Astrid stared at the shadow for a long moment before her gaze traveled back up to him, disbelief etched onto her expression. He had never gone this far before, actually hurting her like this. She didn't think it would ever happen. They were so close, she never thought he would actually do something like this. But now he was just standing here, allowing his magic to hurt her. It wasn't funny anymore. This was serious. He had actually attacked her.
    Her arms clasped around the area the shadow pierced into to protect it, feeling the warm silver blood trickle down her leg.

    Mouth parted open as her breath became ragged, her one single eye watered slightly. "... Lucius? W-What are you doing? That actually hurt." Her voice was hurt, like that of a wounded animal. She wasn't sure what to make of it. Lucius, hurting her. No such thing had ever happened before. And now here he was, drawing blood. Was this just a prank that had gone too far? Or was he actually attempting to hurt her for real?

    He wasn't like that.
    He wasn't.
    Alwe
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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Alwe 27th August 2018, 6:22 pm


    It was so mild and minor an injury that brought about such a tasty flow of emotions. Concern and worry were evident, and the sound of her voice and the look in her eyes flashed hurt freshly woven within. The wizard saint was a hard seed to crack, but when it came down to it, what she had to give was certainly delicious by the nightmare’s standards. The strong hands had left the sinner’s wrist and reached instead to grab her injured leg. The wounded voice brought an internal joy to the ravenous Dreamweaver.

    The dark-haired sinner bent down towards her as she grasped her leg, her singular eye wet and hurt. “I know,” he murmured, a devious smirk lacing his lips. With quick speed, the man forged a sharp dagger of shadows and using a mix of his full strength and a carbon copy of the saint’s strengths, attempted to drive the dagger into her hand. With luck, he would manage to nail the hand to her leg for a few brief moments until she removed it or the unholy shadows dissipated. His crimson eyes flickered with delight at the thought of the small girl’s agony. The Dreamweaver was already relishing in what negative energy it could consume from the air. The tastes were intoxicating and made the being of surreality only wish to devour more. How long until she realized just what was going on; and what would be her reaction to the truth? The nightmare could not wait to find out.




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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Special Snowflake 29th August 2018, 2:19 am

    The sense of unease within Erika was great, ever since Sharp had met a being that didn't belong in reality, something not tied to the natural order. Erika had already felt this feeling a while ago, on a distant planet as it held Astrid in its arms and attempted to destroy her. She felt the pain and anger of almost losing her twice before now, once from a cat, and another time from the anomaly, but this time, this time Erika wouldn't allow it to happen. Trouble followed the girl as if she was cursed by something, and though Erika didn't believe in such superstition, she did believe that such circumstances weren't just by accident, by some unseen force Astrid was cursed to forever find trouble knocking on her door. The dragon soared into the sky with unparalleled speed, pushing her body to the brink as she landed in the town of Talonia. This town had endured much recently, but there was a clear cry against reality next to the object of her affection. White wings clutched the ground as Erika gained an upright position and looked up towards the hole in the wall Astrid found herself in. Those in the immediate area ran in panic, and various knights of the rune approached.

    Erika could feel it, the energy being drained for those who held fear in their hearts, and without mercy or hesitation Erika cut down those in the area, killing them as fast as possible to avoid any sort of pleasure to this creature. threads manifesting as a dome around the area, boxing in the city block in a mass of powerful magic, Erika dashed up to the window just in time to see Astrid clutching her leg, Lucius attempting to harm his sister. Erika disliked the man, he didn't view her as the most important being in the universe, so naturally, she disliked him, but he wouldn't harm Astrid, at least physically. The only love he had in his body was for Astrid, well and Mika or whatever her name was. Making a shadow dagger he went to stab Astrid and that's when Erika crashed through the wall and window as fast as she could, Excalibur now in her hand and went to block the daggers impact. Despite the anger about her, Erika had felt the power of this creature and she kept herself calm with her own flavor of reality manipulation.

    "Speak creature, know that these may be your last words. You have touched what is precious to me, and what is precious to her, there is no mercy, only war. Attempt to explain yourself and vacate that body, before I force you out."


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    Post by Guest 29th August 2018, 11:11 pm

    The young elf didn't know why he was doing such horrid things to her, nor why he continued to do them. If this was a part of some sick game surely it had gone way too far. Sure, the siblings would hurt each other a little for fun, it's just what they did. But none of those times had either gone so far as to draw blood. But here they were, a pointed shadow sticking through her thigh and him going in for another strike with a dagger. How was she supposed to react? Was she supposed to fight back? To hurt him so he would stop hurting her? Or was she supposed to stand here and a take it? Fighting back seemed like the only real option here, but it was also the toughest to make. The slayer was still dazed, she was still confused and conflicted. She didn't want to hurt him, yet she didn't want to be hurt either.
    Was there any possible way to end this peacefully? Either way, it seemed there would have to be a fight, if she participated in it or not. So really, there was only one option.
    The saint's confused and worried expression solidified into a serious glare, glaring up at the taller man as he was about to drive a dagger into her hand. She was about to use her quickened reflexes to grab onto his wrist firmly to stop the motion, only to be interrupted by an object crashing into the wall and blocking the attack for her. Well, not an object. Rather, a person. The elf blinked back, caught off guard by this new development. But when her eyes finally focused again, the familiar figure of Erika was standing in front of her, protecting the silvernette from the sharp weapon.
    Her single eye widened, lips parting in surprise.
    "E-Erika?..." How did she even know she was here? Well, that was a bit of a dumb question. Not only did the thread mage know always exactly what she was thinking, but of course she always knew where she was too. It was... A little weird, honestly. She really should stop doing that.
    She would have a serious talk with the dragon later... But right now, she seemed very intent on finding out what was going on with Lucius, and the light mage wasn't about to interrupt her. Erika wasn't this serious very often.
    Alwe
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    Post by Alwe 31st August 2018, 2:45 pm


    A bright flash of gold and metal appeared before the raven-haired man’s crimson eyes. The Dreamweaver realized the dragon had been flying at them from afar but was too slow to drive the dagger into its mark. Instead, the sharp sound of metal hitting metal was heard as the shadow dagger clashed with the dazzling excalibur. The event brought a wide grin to the sinner’s face. It seemed he had been caught in the act for the most part. Not only that, but this was a very specific person highlighted in Astrid’s memories. The nightmare could not help but adore them and their reputation-- such a lovely chaotic being. The Dreamweaver looked forward to what was in store.

    “This is a nice sword,” the raven-haired man said with a grin, fingers trailing up the flat part of the golden blade up to the hilt and to Erika’s hand, with an attempt to grab her wrist. The grab would be half-hearted, expecting the dragon to have far more strength than the shadow mage. The Dreamweaver anticipated being easily overpowered if they were not careful. Regardless, they would try to make the best of the situation. The one who stood before them was powerful and a force to be reckoned with. They felt a touch of envy over the mastery of the unique manipulation of reality. “The legendary Excalibur, isn’t it?” the possessed sinner continued. “How did such an artifact end up in your possession?”

    As the slayer spoke, he attempted to throw the dagger down towards the top of Astrid’s foot. If it landed, it would certainly be painful. If not, things would stay the same as normal, only with some more amplified anger on both their parts. For the nightmare, it was a win-win scenario. The “last words” of the Dreamweaver, of course, were words of small talk. He recognized the gravity of the situation but did not feel much fear inside over what could happen. Instead, the dream being was far too curious as to what would take place. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Erika. If only it could have been under better circumstances, but war sounds delightful. I never was one for mercy, nor was this meatsack,” he continued while smirking, not yet ready to vacate the body, being far too interested in what the two would do. He left a hanging jab at the person held captive by the puppeteering strings, Lucius Foss. What mercy did a sinner deserve, anyway?



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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Special Snowflake 31st August 2018, 4:33 pm

    This being locked away inside of Lucius, it was mocking her. Small talk right in the middle of a moment like this? Erika wasn't about to just let someone attempt to give her the ring around. The hand would find no flesh, only threads as it tried to grab her wrist, a small poke being made to leave a little present in the body of Lucius just in case Erika had to show she killed him. Naturally, she would revive him back in of her labs, well she would try, it would be difficult, to say the least, but Erika just didn't wish for such a being to hold onto his body forever, or leave some fragment of itself in him. Don't get her wrong, Erika still disliked Lucius as he didn't recognize just how perfect she was at everything and ignored her, a crime deserving the highest punishment, but Astrid would be really sad, and mad at her and then Erika would have to listen to how she could have saved him and how she killed her brother and blah blah blah.

    Erika would prefer to bypass all of that right now, and instead pushed the man's hand gently off herself. flicking the sword downward Erika deflected the dagger to the ground, still attempting to attack Astrid instead of Erika? That was a big mistake.

    "You attack Astrid instead of me? I see that you view you are capable against her? I can assure you without that shell protecting you it would be a different story."

    Fulling getting between Lucius and Astrid Erika smirked slightly as she showed her body relaxing slightly, sword now in her right hand and not both, though at this point her entire bodily structure was made up of threads, leaving not a single point weak to conventional attacks, potentially at least.

    "I think you have a listening problem, you see I didn't say go to war with you in Lucius, I said go to war with you. It's fine, I understand that a being who doesn't know the laws of this reality would naturally not understand the words of one as perfect as me, so let's cut to the chase."

    Raising her leg arm she would clench her fist as the veil of reality would begin to tear around Lucius, and she'd attempt to drag the being out of him. If it worked then she could simply slaughter the creature at her leisure, if it failed then she had the backup plan involving the death of Astrid's brother. Both were acceptable options at the end of the day to Erika, though she'd prefer not to be yelled at by Astrid.


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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Alwe 31st August 2018, 7:58 pm

    NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private Giphy

    The wrist fell to threads upon the raven-haired man making contact with the dragon girl. The Dreamweaver realized the thread that had been inserted in the sinner’s body, but took no notice. They had had their fun and now were far more interested in what the ‘hero’ to the scene would do. His shadow dagger had been deflected which was a shame, but the smirk to follow mildly surprised the nightmare who had anticipated anger. Capable against the saint? The context behind what that meant was not obvious to the Dreamweaver who had no intention of being able to smite anyone on the spot. Its purpose for coming to Reality was not to kill off anyone, nor traumatize them needlessly. The nightmare merely needed fuel if they wanted to be of any help to their faraway kin. Every encounter was a stepping stone in that direction.

    The raven-haired man only mirrored the smirk, red eyes brimming with excitement and curiosity. War with the Dreamweaver? The notion was certainly quite romantic, but the reality manipulator had a point-- they did not know much about the laws of reality at all. It mattered not in most cases, fortunately, seeing as they had no qualms with breaking and bending the rules. If the laws of the world existed for the being of the unworld to break them, why were they in any hurry to learn them? The pride oozing from the dragon’s voice was enthralling along with her quick grab on the nearby folds of reality.

    As the surrounding reality was beginning to tear away under the power of the dragon, all that was left was either ‘nothing’, or the surreal. The nightmare ripped itself from the body of the raven-haired sinner in the form of hundreds of tiny, spinning, black cubes all clustered together like a human-sized blizzard. Each cube was only a few inches long and spun with a strange and unnamed surreal element. The Dreamweaver left the man unscathed for the most part, only knocking him down as it left his body. He had been a good puppet, having served the nightmare well, and as such did not deserve any injury or death. Any remaining ‘nightmares’ to be had were possible, but not intended by the being of surreality.

    “Most impressive~!” a voice rang out from the flurry of dark cubes. The tone had no specific gender tone to it, but enough inflection to broadcast its glee. It would begin to circle the two women and the one fallen man while remaining in its ambiguous and experimental form. The form had no soul, spirit, or magical presence to be felt. At the very most, a keen individual would pick up on the weird un-essence of the being, as something that did not quite belong to the real world. “Tell me, Erika,” the Dreamweaver began, too curious to leave too soon. “Why do you care so much for a pathetic girl, when you’re a monster to be feared and a force to be reckoned with?”



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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Special Snowflake 1st September 2018, 12:52 am

    The being took no natural form when it was vanquished from Lucius body, but Erika expected as much. Anomalies rarely had self-awareness beyond base instinct, where this one differed was the self-awareness that it had. It knew what it was doing, recognized the difference between right and wrong and decided to do wrong. Erika had no choice, like a beast freed from a cage she attempted to find where she lived in the food chain and who was beneath her. She would have continued on such a reckless conquest of the world if it wasn't for events that transpired turning her attention more towards love rather then self-gratification. Becoming ruler didn't matter as much as being with Astrid did, she would always desire more on her own, but with Astrid she didn't need more she had all she wanted, well mostly she did wish Astrid would stop being kidnapped so much to the point Erika felt she needed to get a red hat.

    Black cubes circled the trio as they spoke about how she should just do whatever she wishes, so this being was like Erika in terms of finding where it belonged? Interesting, if it was all true, first Erika had to ensure a few things for herself and sadly that meant getting yelled at by Astrid most likely.

    "Naive child. Do you want to see what a monster can do? I can show you that, you say you know no mercy, but at the same time you didn't kill him while you left him. So you know mercy, so let me give you the first lesson of what it means to cross me."

    Snapping her left fingers in a moment Lulu's body was crushed from the inside out by threads, obliterated beyond repair and turned into a bloody mist on the ground. Unbeknownst to Veve, at least most likely, Erika took his soul inside of herself using a bit of a change to her own reality. It wasn't comfortable to have such an inferior being in herself, but she'd have to endure it for a bit, especially since she knew Astrid could see souls and notice, hopefully, what Erika was doing. Threads manifested from Erika's back and moved to stitch up Astrid's wound, and with them, a message would be sent, for Astrid to play along with it and show sorrow at the loss of Lucius and just how cruel Erika could be. Let the being think it's gained a victory in this trying time, just so the next steps could bear more fruit.

    "As for the second lesson..."

    Tugging at the ABSTRACT REALITY of the room Erika attempted to move the cubes together to form a person out of them, to show one of the forms the being loved to take, so that Erika could impart a blow that the being couldn't recover from, not easily at least.


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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Guest 5th September 2018, 2:48 pm

    This creature, this 'thing' that was apparently inside of her brother was starting to get under the elf's skin. As if possessing her brother and taking cheap shots at her wasn't enough it was now starting to question the girl's relationship, as if there was something wrong with the dragon dating a 'pathetic girl'. As if it had any right in saying if they were supposed to be together or not. If Erika wasn't holding her own against it Astrid might have gone in there herself and gave it a piece of her mind. But even in the silvernette's pricking anger she knew better than to get in the way of the thread mage. Especially against... Whatever the hell this thing was. Some sort of abstract being, just from the shape of it alone. it had no magical sense, no life presence, no soul even. It was a freak of nature. Not because it didn't fit in to normal standards, but because she could say it didn't even outside of those standards. It was a strange thing, one of which turned the girl's stomach. She had never met something she couldn't read before. This was a whole new type of being, and she had no way of knowing anything about it.
    All she knew is that for some reason, it wanted to target her. But then again, that was something she had grown used to by now.

    Astrid kept her hardened gaze on the floating blocks of cubes, almost with spite. Honestly she had quite enough of random things seemingly going after her for no reason. Hopefully Erika could deal with it and they could go home. But things just really weren't that simple. A few swings of that sword could probably work, right? The dragon had gotten them out of drastic situations like this before. There was no way she'd lose to something that couldn't even make up its mind on what it wanted to be.
    But what the elfling hadn't anticipated on? Was he brother's entire body being obliterated into noting but a large bloody mist. The girl's crimson eye widened for only but a moment, horrified at the scene that had just unfolded before her, but couldn't help but notice how the thread mage spared his soul. Apparently, she had some sort of plan, which was only backed as one of her threads sealed up the small hole in her thigh and left her a message to plan along. Ah, good, yes. Thank the gods she had a plan and didn't just tear his body apart for no reason. For a second there she thought she was going to have a Black Rose guild hall version 2 on their hands. Though the imagine of her brother's body being destroyed was actually pretty horrifying, the elf also trusted the dragon enough to go along with this plan of her's, whatever it may be.

    Needed to play along... Lets see... What was good for making people cry? Puppies left out in the rain, one legged rabbits, pulling only a single sock out of the washing machine, cutting onions and making their children watch as you did so... Oh, yeah those were all pretty sad, some even more so than her own brother's death if not equal to it. Time to put that first grade theater lesson to the test.
    Just thinking about all of that brought a tear to the girl's eye, which traveled down her pale cheek, silver eyebrows narrowing in forced anger. "You... You monster!" She cried out, her voice full of hurt and distress. "He was too young, too young i say! And yet you slaughtered him in this very room. Innocent blood, spilled!" Falling to her knees once more the elf put the back of her hand to her forehead, yelling upwards to the sky dramatically, her other hand clenched into a fist. "Oh the humanity! THE HUMANITY!!"
    Pausing, she would look back to the dragon for a moment, projecting her inner thoughts into her soul.
    "Was that convincing enough?" She asked happuly to the thread mage with a small, hidden smile on her lips, the complete opposite tone of what she was actually speaking.
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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Alwe 7th September 2018, 4:48 pm

    NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private Tumblr_p3zgk1ReVs1sebz5yo1_540

    Sparing the sinner was merciful? The Dreamweaver was not in the game for death and blood. While massacres were fun, the only scraps they wanted were the neatly bundled packs of negative energy to consume. Rarely did the nightmare take the life of anyone with their own hands. Typically, they sat by as others did it, only stirring the pot when needed. At worst, they would leave a victim of their hunting habits in severe trauma for a while afterward. It did not seem that it would be like that in this case, however.

    The flurry of cubes could only internally smile as the dragon turned the shadow slayer’s body to slush. It really was too bad-- he would have been a great puppet for later, being something of a chaos loving being himself. The pulp left behind would not be so easily repaired; just what was the intent of this, other than proving that the dragon before them could indeed be a monster and did not care for the elf girl. The nightmare could only assume that there was more to the situation than what met the figurative eye. They were acutely aware of what was going on in the room but had no reason to comment or think about it too much with everything else going on.

    Two things happened as Erika went on to demonstrate the ‘second lesson’. Firstly, the smaller girl began to cry out over the death of her brother, spilling a series of words that portrayed the regret and distress. The Dreamweaver already had a rough taste of what the girl’s grief and concern were like when they had last attempted to feign the raven-haired man’s death. Something was lacking in this… the words and actions were convincing enough. The nightmare believed Astrid wholeheartedly, but something was missing. This scene did not hold the delightful sensation of grief to the figurative taste buds. There was little negative energy to fully consume beyond a tiny mix of shock, surprise, and some mild despair and grief. Typically such a scene would have brought a juicy entree to the ever-ravenous Dreamweaver, but this circumstance did no such thing. As such, they were not fully convinced, and their face to be revealed would show that.

    The second thing to happen was the tugs at reality all around their hundreds to thousands of dark cubes. The dragon was pinching the edges of reality to force the flurry of square shapes to a more defined and specific form. The nightmare could have expected such; people of reality liked a face to look at when they talked. They liked to relate to and see emotions for the sake of communication and for their own emotional and mental states, for whatever reason. As the cubes condensed to a specific point in the room, the Dreamweaver decided to go ahead and oblige instead of fight against it. “You could just ask if you wanted me to assume a different form, you know…” the voice said, a feminine tone resonating from the mars black cubes once again. With pressure from Erika’s reality manipulation and unwillingness to fight it back, the cubes pushed themselves into a human form-- that of a female with blonde hair, green eyes, and casual clothing. Her face stared for a few brief moments at Astrid, her emerald eyes blinking in confusion at the good acting but lack of tasty negative fuel. This was her preferred appearance, which she had named ‘Veronika’ for the ease of everything. After all, she did not necessarily need everyone having her true name in their minds, fresh for her enemies to see. It would be easier to track her if they saw her name in the minds of everyone she had encountered, after all.

    The Dreamweaver felt no need to see right from wrong in a human or mortal’s perspective. She was here for the sole purpose of gaining enough power to conquer the Dream King and take over her homeland, for the sake of herself and her kin. Reality held the keys to see that wish granted. Nevertheless, Veronika found herself intrigued with the real world which differed so greatly from Reality. The elf and the dragon were a pleasant and interesting surprise to the unfamiliar being of Surreality. “You may call me Veronika Oneiro in this form,” the blonde said with a smirk, still anticipating just what the ‘retired’ monster had left to teach.



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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Special Snowflake 21st September 2018, 12:43 am

    How could anyone buy that Astrid had just said, she gave away everything Erika was planning and she ruined the entire plot of the thread mage to keep the emo shadow user safe and healthy. Astrid was quite possibly the dumbest and worst actress in the entire world, if she were to make a movie it would star herself and have at least 4 sex scenes that made no sense and a flower shop scene that was short and pointless, and a roof scene where she threw a water bottle. It was strange, for a second Erika thought the odd being might believe it, the act in its entirety. Could Astrid be so bad she was good? Erika shuttered to think about that, lest the integrity of film become ruined by the woman she loved.

    The cubed figured changed because the pressure Erika forced on her, the swirling cubes becoming humanoid in appearance until finally, a blond woman was standing before her. Certainly, an impressive display, to say the least, being able to shift and not of this reality, was she also a dragon? No Erika didn't sense a brooding animosity within her that she normally felt around another of her kind, instead, it was merely an annoyance at this blight on real space. Sword in Hand Erika tightened her grip as she heard the arrogance flow from the creature's mouth, the words coated in double meaning and lies. Was she similar to those Erika had fought on that one planet, just instead of violent she was cunning? Well, it wouldn't matter after this one decisive blow.

    "Here's the second lesson, pay attention they'll be a quiz later."

    Vanishing from sight Erika would reappear in front of Veve's "body" and slash downward at an angle from Veve's right to her left side, from shoulder to thigh, a blow carrying the reality of what Erika had experienced, the lessons she had learned, the caring and love she could now feel, even if it was only for one person. This being, similar to Erika would feel it, the pain of the one lasting blow every time they went against the path Erika had found redemption down, the road which twisted and turned till eventually, Erika knew what a home and place meant. Power for the sake of gaining power, domination, ruining, corruption, infecting, none of it meant anything to her now, it wasn't about Erika but rather Astrid, she had found something to protect.

    As quickly as she would strike Erika would appear in front of Astrid once again, appearing as if she had never moved, the strike appearing unreal in how it was delivered, perhaps a trick of her manipulating reality, or was it something simpler? Would be hard to tell.

    "When the pain stops, that's why you've learned the lesson, till then enjoy your life, Veronika"

    Grasping Astrid's right hand Erika would manifest a portal underneath them, and allow the two to fall away to another location, the portal closing behind her and the threads all vanishing into dust...


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    Private Re: NOTHING LEFT TO SAY ▲ private

    Post by Alwe 21st September 2018, 2:17 pm


    The nightmare did not know what to anticipate from the unique dragon of reality, other than more extravagant use of her world-bending powers. Such a thing was promptly delivered, but not in the way that the Dreamweaver had expected. A sudden teleport forward drew the raven-haired girl closer, golden sword glinting in hand. The instant slash with the legendary Excalibur sword came quickly, falling on the nightmare from her temporarily physical shoulder down to the other side of her body, near the thigh. Upper right to lower left, the human body she had generated was torn with a deep gash. The blonde did not bleed like any average human, however, but instead the contents of the wound were none other than black, white, and gray static that seemed to dance within the injury in constant motion.

    When previously attacked, the Dreamweaver did not have a name for any sensations. Typically, injuries were laughable, the emotional sensory being far more vivid than a physical sense. Injuries previously inflicted on her had been foreign to the surreal being, who had not generated pain receptors and an appropriate nervous system. When in a human form, she basically just existed with a visible appearance that could interact with the mortal plane at her leisure. A strike or blow meant nothing or would offer a reverse sensation of what an ordinary human would feel. This time, however, was different. Excalibur did not slice through her physical body, but through her very presence and existence instead. The raging gash did not hit receptors that directed the impression of pain to a human brain, but instead left an awful feeling to be had on the core of what the dream being even was.

    The sensation was painful.

    It was quite unlike any experience the Dreamweaver had ever encountered or allowed herself to feel. She could only recognize it due to what she had seen and felt while preying on or sitting within the bodies and souls of humans and other beings. Veronika’s face twisted into an agonized grimace after she realized just what had happened. Emerald green eyes glared after the reality dragon who had uttered a few more words before returning to the silvernette and dropping them both into a spatial portal. In the humiliation of it, the nightmare was unable to biting muster words to send after the one who had inflicted the injury, nor was she able to just hide behind some disguise and pretend nothing happened.

    Astrid and Erika were gone, leaving Veronika alone in the apartment complex, falling to her knees from the sudden exhaustion and weakness that came over her body from the pain. The shock of it was what she logically had to deal with first. The Dreamweaver had never anticipated someone having the means of actually hurting her. She knew that some agents of Dreamland and the Dream King himself had the potential to deliver such a blow, but never had she considered that some dragon from the physical world would host such a fabled weapon and be able to pack that much damage with her raw powers alone. Perhaps she had been too careless, underestimating the beings of the world of reality. While it was impressive to finally meet a being known as the dragon of reality, she should have ideally fled while she had the chance. Instead, curiosity got the better of the nightmare who was still inexperienced in the ways of the real world.

    Balancing out the shock, there was the actual wound she had to take care of. It still burned and raged with pain, causing the Dreamweaver to release a few agonized grunts and whimpers before shutting down her capacity to speak for the time being in order to preserve at least some of her pride. Emerald eyes wet as she seated herself down to inspect the injury further, sparks of static began to fall from the wound from her movements. Channeling some power from surreality to generate some semblance of healing power for her, the Dreamweaver attempted to begin sealing up the gash, starting from the thigh and moving up across the chest. At first, it was successful, but as she finally reached the shoulder, the regeneration halted. It was too late before the nightmare realized what had happened-- mending the gash did not truly heal it, but only pushed it and concentrated it up further into her shoulder. Jaws parted in a silent cry at the painful mistake, the doubled pain in one area of her surreal body making her head fall dizzy and her direct vision blurry.

    Hastefully, the Dreamweaver attempted to reverse time on herself, hoping to at least return the gash back to normal if not reverse it completely. She had a decent amount of control over the time of specific things, including her own body. Time was an abstract concept, thus it was well within range of the nightmare’s territory. Unfortunately, her attempts to utilize such an ability failed as the painful static gash remained the same, not reversing in the least and concentrated to her right shoulder. There in the dark, empty, and messy apartment, Veronika felt like a sitting duck. With so much play with tears and manipulation in reality and surreality, from both her and the dragon, it was only a matter of time before other surreal beings made their way here to inspect. Not wanting to deal with unwanted company while in a state of weakness, the Dreamweaver reverted into yet another form in one last attempt to negate some of the gash’s pain. They changed their body into that of a small space of dancing bars of light. On one of the bars, however, the gash of static remained, while not as big due to the proportion of what she had changed into, the pain still coursed through its existence.

    With no other tricks up their sleeve, the Dreamweaver retreated back into a quiet space they had prepared for itself-- a little nook that sat between the world of reality and the unworld of surreality. It was not a secure location, but at least would put the nightmare closer to their home plane in order to restore some of their energy, while also figuring through what the dragon had said about the injury. The pain would stop when they learned ‘the lesson’. Sorting through the bits and pieces of memory the Dreamweaver had scanned upon making contact with Erika, the nightmare searched for answers. The idea of love was a confusing concept that they could only see in a negative light. Love made one vulnerable and could be so easily used against others. What point was there in protecting others unless they were useful to their agenda? The angry Dreamweaver contemplated and angrily fathomed the thoughts and the potential expectations of the reality dragon, not yet able to clearly see what it was that would make the painful static wound disappear.



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