Level 14
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 888 posts
[Magic]
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Post by Krezley on Jan 5, 2012 17:08:40 GMT -5
Moaning Metal Puppet
A chapel long forgotten. Blue flowers climb the chandaliers and columns as there is no one to clean them. The chapel has an arched wall with a large opening atop it in order to view the clocktower made of pipes right in front of it. Oddly enough, the arched wall has a piano keyboard along its midsection from left to right. The keys are directly attached to the wall, so one might assume that they were useless as there is nothing to produce sound. But upon pressing a key, the answer becomes obvious as the clocktower ahead of you bellows loudly and shakes the entire area. The clocktower is a giant pipe organ.
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Level 16
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,126 posts
wat
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Post by Alexei on Jan 5, 2012 20:54:05 GMT -5
The solemn hours passed as he sat on the ground, right under one of the stone archways. Around him were pieces of vegetation sticking out of the cracks. His eyes were glancing at the keys, knowing their functions. He had been in this field before, with a person. Right now he couldn't recall that person's name, but he it was a character who couldn't speak. As if thinking about it, he lifted his right hand up to place it over his mouth. Symbolizing his reaction to what it might feel like to have your tongue ripped from your body. Some days he felt like he had no voice, his words never reaching those he cared for most. His head shifted to the left, his eyes following the architecture, all the way to the pieces of mosaic.
He saw the light from the outside beam through, creating a rainbow along the gray slate of the field. The further he looked up, the more he could see. There was a large gap in the ceiling, allowing the sun to make a spot light in the middle of the room. It was a good thing he wasn't sitting in it; it would have been too dramatic. Dropping his left hand into the moss on the floor, his fingers curled around one of the dandelions. He plucked it and started to twirl it. Still, his eyes were aimlessly staring near the sun. As if he was waiting for something to change, for some excitement.
Then he remembered waiting never got him anywhere. He could always wander around, leave the chapel, but he felt safe in these closed, broken walls. As if testing the sun, he tossed the plucked flower into the middle of the sunlight on the floor. Likewise, nothing happened.
Nothing ever did.
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Level 30
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 3,048 posts
I, your shadow...
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Post by Silvar on Jan 11, 2012 15:12:47 GMT -5
And yet, perhaps today was the day that something did happen. For all its fields and all its mysteries, for all the absolute irony of his lack of faith, cathedrals and places of The World's holy significance had always had a certain measure of allure to Silv. His belief, a strong sense of a self made world and the blasphemous mindset of an atheist who played at Angels and Demons like a child plays at cowboys and Indians, was a representation of the relaxed and yet steadfastly methodical way with which he carried out his life and his business.
And here was not necessarily so different, because he, like most men with a lot of influence and power and time, enjoyed indulging himself in whims and fancies. Unlike other men, however, he kept his work always close, rarely let himself get carried away in fantasy enough to lose sight of his own responsibilities. As it so happened, this particular ruin's sole inhabitant was not its sole inhabitant at all, for he had a habit of watching this particular anomaly, had a need to pick apart and dig his claws into this unique specimen.
The best sorts of spies were the ones who were unwitting of their involvement.
It was more than that, more likely than not, but the simplest explanation was fascination with the strange, and Alexei was indeed rather strange. Not that he wasn't himself, but that was a different matter altogether. And so it happened that there were things he could make happen in this World, and so he did. That quaint little flower so suddenly shrivelled, withered into dust in the slanted rays of the sun, and as many hackers, he had a liking for dramatic entrances.
He stepped from the shadows like a wraith borne out of them, at Alexei's back and overshadowing him where he sat, the fade effect a matter of aesthetics he particularly enjoyed. Many of the more complex aspects of his transportation methods he had borrowed from the ghosts of this system, the travelling AIs who fled by the backroads, knew all the trapdoors, and he looked to that immensely high, vaulted ceiling that might almost have been the sky itself. "One of these days I am going to find you a wasted, hollow husk from all that daydreaming, Alexei."
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Level 16
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,126 posts
wat
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Post by Alexei on Jan 13, 2012 19:21:07 GMT -5
The flower within his grasp started to break apart, the area where the stem had been now gone. His thumb was pressed slightly into his palm, watching as the ashes of the flower dashed away in a nonexistent breeze. The emptiness in his hands left him considerably confused, but the feeling turned into something of being upset. It was like he had something pried out of his hands, something sacred he tried to hold onto. His eyes trained away from the pit in the ceiling to turn steadily at his hand, which was now spread open, palm up. A few pieces of gray ash stood in the midst of his flesh, and he gave a slight shake of his wrist to deposit the rest of the dead flower upon the floor. Or rather, the ashes.
With his head angled slightly down, he noticed the light that was once basking behind him turn into something dark. His shoulders tensed slightly, getting ready to feel some sort of blow to the back of his head. Yet, there was nothing physical to remind him that he was no longer alone. No, it was a voice, as if it was mocking his very existence. Silvar. The hacker was as good as a necromancer, resurrecting things and people that were already dead. Alexei had wished that Silv left his dark conscious in that locked room. Why did the male find it so enjoyable to play with fire, to unlock the instincts of his heart?
Did Silv want to change Alexei into a weapon, what were the hacker's motives?
Alexei twisted his body so that he could crane his head back. The movement was very slow, causing his dark bangs to slowly slip down the curve of his cheek. Two red dots moved to face the hacker's face, canvased beneath the length of his dark lashes. The look in Alexei's eyes were a little off, the pupils mere pin needles as he watched Silv from his position. Silv was literally looking down at Alex, and he was wondering if Silv felt lofty because of it. “You're implying that there is still something inside of me,” his voice was quiet, knowing that he couldn't let any rage slip.
All Silv had to do was snap his fingers, or something like it, to end up tearing Alexei apart. A part of him wished that Silv would torture him, to get it over with. “Fancy seeing you here,” there was a hint of sarcasm. After all, he was sure that Silv was stalking him that odd hacker sort of way.
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Level 30
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 3,048 posts
I, your shadow...
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Post by Silvar on Jan 19, 2012 15:18:00 GMT -5
Alexei had always been quite the enigma to him, though from the beginning it has always been easy to see that darkness in the player (when the player was a player and not an anomaly, even). What did he truly want from this curious thing? It was anyone's guess, even his, because the simple fact of the matter was that he was drawn to him, intrigued by him, and in matters of picking apart every little detail... This was simply the way the hacker's mind worked.
He was indeed implying that there was still something inside of the character, yes, but the what didn't necessarily have to be anything good or just or worthwhile. What Silv saw in Alexei was a puzzle, a struggle, darkness and light like any normal person and yet so much an anomaly. Secluded, but not, and there was so much in the mind of an anomaly that he saught to understand. Did he want a weapon? Who knew, but he did enjoy having control over this dark, predictably unpredictable thing. Perhaps one day he would be able to predict him.
"It's quite an ironic place to be," he commented, wings twisting into formation behind his back, a whorl of shadow and feather coming into solid form as he stepped past Alexei, into the beam of light. A shift, a ruffle of those feathers to settle them all into place, something so real for a place like this, and he really was quite proud of his programming. He turned, then, to look again at the player there, head tilted so slightly as he regarded him. "You are not yet an empty shell at all," he mused, faintest hint of a quirk of his lips. "Do you resent me?"
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