Level 1
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud Male and I've made 28 posts
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Post by Rikoto on Nov 7, 2017 10:46:26 GMT -5
Reluctantly, we all wear masks. Rikoto stared at his own reflection and frowned. He reached out, felt the window's cold glass beneath fingers that weren't his own.
Even on a good day, he had trouble recognising his face. But now, it felt weirder still. Mismatched eyes, hair that was... dark. Purple? And a face as inoffensive as tree bark.
It wasn't his own, he knew that, but it also was. And it was a stranger's face.
He sighed and turned. The grasslands stretching around him was dotted with stones. Though from high up on the tower he couldn't see, Rikoto knew what they were.
Gravestones. Memorials to times long past, of memories forgotten beneath the surface.
The tower was its own memorial. Huge bells hung in the central room, surrounded by gargantuan window panes. The bells never sounded, but it was a clocktower all the same.
Five flights of stairs and thirty-five minutes brought you down, but Rikoto did not feel like the journey today.
He sighed. Stared at his reflection again.
"I wanna punch myself in the face," he mumbled, in a voice also not his own.
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Level 20
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,482 posts
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Post by ♛ L0PP3R ♛ on Nov 7, 2017 11:32:54 GMT -5
Perhaps in the silence of reflection, over the building white noise, Rikoto could sense something not quite right about the clock tower in which he finds himself. It is as if he is not the only one who occupies its space or as if he is not as alone as he thinks himself out to be. He does share this space with the digital ghosts of times long since gone. Rikoto would learn, whether he liked it or not, that not all ghosts are content with simply resting in peace. "Why punch yourself in the face, when you can just have someone else do it for you?" It comes from one of the dark corners of the room in which Rikoto finds himself in with the disembodied voice. A ghoulish giggle of a childish woman follows after the original remark, echoing throughout the structure as if it came from everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. "You are still a masochist, even after all of these awful years." The sultry voice coos out to the male, much like a mother would speak to a young child. Yellow eyes suddenly appear close to the floor, as if the owner of those unnatural orbs is crouched in a predatorial way. With each passing moment of time, white teeth grow in count as hidden lips part in amusement at the sight before her. Can words even describe the feeling that courses through her person in this very moment?
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Level 1
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud Male and I've made 28 posts
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Post by Rikoto on Nov 7, 2017 11:49:09 GMT -5
Rikoto shrugged. "It wouldn't be as satisfying," he said flatly. And to begin with, he didn't know anyone he wanted to be that close to. If close, personal friendships were as the sky, then surely he was a bird.
A bird that couldn't fly.
"You'd think you had better things to do," Rikoto continued, "than stalk people with no mind for company."
Neither had he a mind to find the source of the voice. How many strange things had he encountered, over the years, in this place?
Too many, he thought bitterly. And those times weren't coming back, probably.
"Come to think of it, I'd let Rufus punch me." After all, he owed her a punch to his face. And a punch to hers, too.
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Level 20
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,482 posts
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Post by ♛ L0PP3R ♛ on Nov 7, 2017 12:03:11 GMT -5
Laughter erupts from the darkness, overwhelming the silence in a deafening way that seems to threaten the very integrity of the windows that surround the interior of the clock tower. "You should not speak of the dead so casually, you monster." The disembodied eyes and teeth fade back into the darkness following the laughter, silence returning to the structure for a brief moment of time. The sound of heavy feet moving across the floor slowly creep into existence, rounding around the interior of the clock tower to reach Rikoto instead of taking a direct path to the individual through the light. It should be clear to the male that this is a game to whomever or whatever it is that is in the room with him, no pun intended of course. "I am [The World]'s membrane, made up of all its bitterness." The voice speaks in a sickly amused way, laughing at itself as the footsteps only continue to grow louder and louder with each step. "I have nothing better to do with my time for, you see, I have had a very - very - very long time to think." With every word the voice speaks, its volume grows as if leading to an inevitable moment. Strictly speaking from the current tone of the situation and ultimately the predicament in which Rikoto finds himself, it does not look as if it is going to be a very good moment that all of these theatrics are leading up to.
s
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Level 1
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud Male and I've made 28 posts
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Post by Rikoto on Nov 7, 2017 12:08:58 GMT -5
But yet, he remained utterly impassive. "I see someone found the fountain of edge," he said. "Drank deep, didn't you? Membrane, hah." He clacked his tongue. "The World's dead. Same as the community. Candles in the wind."
He pushed open a door, started on the descent after all. Staying in a tower rapidly growing loopy wasn't, in any case, at the top of a list of ambitions.
And his body here was, mercifully, fit as a fiddle. It wasn't bothersome in the slightest, and his knee didn't ache here.
"So is anyone else left?" he said. "Ketha'al, Shinamec, Shikyo, Hex and heck, even Kuree."
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Level 20
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,482 posts
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Post by ♛ L0PP3R ♛ on Nov 7, 2017 12:17:13 GMT -5
There is no comment given to Rikoto's initial response, as if silence is more than enough of a response to get across the disdain for his words. He comes to rattle off the names of apparitions that lingered within the Lost Grounds, the darkness still only returning silence for what felt like a lifetime. Only the sound of those heavy footsteps lingering behind him, just out of sight in the darkness, following him down the staircase is all that is heard. Until, of course, the darkness comes to speak up once more. "They are everywhere, here in [The World]." A pause. "They exist, inside of me." The words are meaningful but their true meaning is difficult to discern, lost in translation and misunderstandings plenty. Could Rikoto ever understand, even if he so wished to?
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Level 1
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud Male and I've made 28 posts
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Post by Rikoto on Nov 7, 2017 12:31:27 GMT -5
Clarity was a weapon. Rikoto understood, but he reasoned that he likely misunderstood. It was a truth of the world, and likely The World.
"All of them, inside you?" he said finally. Then he chuckled. "Isn't that a bit too slutty?"
For a moment, he imagined Ketha'al, in all his dark, edgy glory forcing himself on someone alongside Shinamec in that ridiculously bright outfit.
And then he laughed.
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Level 20
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,482 posts
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Post by ♛ L0PP3R ♛ on Nov 7, 2017 12:40:33 GMT -5
The sound of a tongue clicking harshly against one's teeth snaps through the silence in a clearly unamused way. "Are you not a little old to be acting like such an insufferable child?" The voice speaks through gritted teeth in an attempt to maintain composure and not lose its cool upon the descending individual in which it is tailing. "You do not need to jest in such unsightly ways because you are afraid of facing the truth of it all." Then comes a sudden snicker, as if the disembodied voice had an amusing thought. The words that follow the snickering, however, are anything but friendly and the sickly tone shows. "You are - and always will be - a coward." Did this just become personal?
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Level 1
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud Male and I've made 28 posts
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Post by Rikoto on Nov 7, 2017 13:03:16 GMT -5
Weren't they all? Years ago, there were many ambling down the streets of Mac Anu. Some did it purely for fun, and to have a laugh. Others did it to turn away from a reality they didn't much like.
In their kingdom of make believe, cowardice was a currency, and all paid the tithe in droves.
"Takes one to know one," he said. "Least I've the guts to show myself."
The downward trek continued for a while longer. Footfalls echoing against aged stone walls. They reminded him of his old school's reconstruction.
"So I take it you're pretty bored, too," he said.
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Level 20
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,482 posts
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Post by ♛ L0PP3R ♛ on Nov 7, 2017 13:13:53 GMT -5
Silence is all that the darkness offers once more, as if there is no retort that can be given to such a statement. Who could argue the truth. If she were not a coward, then things would be much different than they are on this day. The sheepish attempts Rikoto makes at casual conversation grant him no audience. How could he believe that this is a time for idle chatter and games? Could he not hear it, off in the distance? Could he not see it, right before his own eyes? Could he not feel it in the very source code of [The World]? "There isn't much time," the voice speaks up then with heavy weight in its words. But that is all that it has to offer, not eluding to that in which it speaks of. Is the voice only biding its time? Or is there something much greater going on that Rikoto is unaware of? "If you had the capacity to change everything that ever would be, would you do so? Even if you had to pay the ultimate price without the chance of an ultimatum?" A pause. "Courage is not the absence of fear, as it is said. Pray tell me you are not as lowly of a coward as they come."
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Level 1
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud Male and I've made 28 posts
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Post by Rikoto on Nov 7, 2017 13:23:20 GMT -5
He gave it some thought. "An ultimatum isn't what you think it is," he said finally. "But if I had the power to change the world?"
Rikoto trudged on in silence. That was the stuff of dreams, weren't it? For lots of people. There had been a small flood of Isekai novels, all yearning for a life not unlike an MMO, pining for cheat abilities.
In a sense, The World predated that. It had offered a story of rebirth to a world of fantasy and gamelike stats way before.
Tsukasa had even had cheat skills.
"You know," he said, "I probably would want to. Dying isn't so bad." After a short pause, he added, "All the same, I rather wouldn't die. Not anymore, anyway."
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Level 20
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,482 posts
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Post by ♛ L0PP3R ♛ on Nov 7, 2017 13:39:46 GMT -5
It is in that moment that the heavy footsteps that had been following Rikoto had ceased to be, as if he has spoken the words that needed to be said. In an instant, the overarching presence seems to vanish in an instant as if it had never existed in the first place. Could it have been dispelled with the optimism in which Rikoto felt within his person? A change of character that never may have never been a possible outcome, if the flow of events that transpired so many years ago did not proceed down the path in which it had? But then there was a sudden sound that echoed throughout the clock tower, as if something heavy had fallen from the top level of the structure and came to land on the platform in which Rikoto then stepped onto that would lead to another set of spiraling stairs. Feminine sobbing could be heard then, accompanied by shuddering breaths that are conjured from the darkness right in front of Rikoto. Was it an apparition? Was it all in his mind?
A rising moon cast its moonlight through the window pane, slowly dispelling the shroud of darkness that Rikoto's descent into digital hell had been masked in. The rays illuminated all that could not be seen, in an almost romanticized way. There before Rikoto, on hands and knees, was a mess of pink hair shaking much like a frail leaf in the rain. Beneath the curtain cast by the cotton candy floss, tears puddle and sparkle when the moonlight casts its warm glow upon the emotion. A woman is before him, dressed in a tattered once-white robe covered in something dark. Was it ink? Slowly, much like a reanimating machine, the individual looks up at Rikoto with those once threatening yellow eyes possessing no hint of hostility. The face of the female that is before him is exposed, the once disembodied voice now tied to a familiar unfamiliar face.
"...Then kill me, before I kill you."
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Level 1
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud Male and I've made 28 posts
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Post by Rikoto on Nov 7, 2017 14:01:38 GMT -5
Rikoto made it a rule never to look people in the eye. And he didn't break it this time, either; his gaze carried past the figure, whose face he supposed he wouldn't recognise anyway.
"Drank deep of the fountain of edge," he said. A small part of him considered the predicament. If he reached forward and gave her a push... if he kicked her... she'd tumble down three flights of stairs.
It'd be easy, if she didn't resist. It surprised him how he thought like that. Even in a game, he didn't like murder.
He was happy to find he discarded the option without much regret.
"A flair of the dramatic, but I'm just here for nostalgia. Not fights."
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Level 20
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,482 posts
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Post by ♛ L0PP3R ♛ on Nov 7, 2017 14:14:29 GMT -5
No words are given at Rikoto's response at first, as if taken back by such noncommittal words. The sobbing continues for a moment more before it is choked back, a stained hand reaching up to wipe at its owner's countenance. Slowly, without the help of her own hands and as if she is being lifted up by strings, she raises up onto her own two feet. Standing there in the faltering moonlight, those yellow orbs give a condescending look over to the male that stands across from her. "You really are a coward," are the words that she has to offer. Slowly did she move forward with a limp in her step, much like the gait of the famous living dead. But the advance ceases once the female comes within arm's reach of Rikoto, her head craning to the side slightly as if she could not find the strength to support her head being upright. Could Rikoto read the situation like he so needed to? "...But you are MY coward." Arms reach out then, wrapping weakly around Rikoto to pull him in close to her person. Her face seeks the space between his shoulder and his neck, a deep shuddering breath muffled by the other's body. He felt warm, despite how cold he had been this entire time towards her. "Not one for my theatrics, huh? Some things never change." Hands reach up behind Rikoto, digging slightly into his skin with kneading nails of fingers curling inward in an attempt to keep him close as if he would disappear from her grasp much like a fading memory.
"...What took you so long?"
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Level 1
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud Male and I've made 28 posts
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Post by Rikoto on Nov 7, 2017 14:42:12 GMT -5
He was used to weird people invading his personal space. It was almost religion to others, and he the unwilling altar. What in the devil possessed people? Surely he was not so huggable.
Rikoto stood there, his face a portrait of discomfort. He leant back, not only for balance but also because he wanted so badly to run off.
But he didn't.
On account of being held.
"Some... memories best left forgotten," he said after a while. "The sort that make you want to punch yourself."
He sighed deeply. "In the face."
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Level 20
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,482 posts
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Post by ♛ L0PP3R ♛ on Nov 7, 2017 14:47:18 GMT -5
Lopper pulls her head back from Rikoto's body, her hands not letting him ago quite yet. Her yellow eyes and vulnerable countenance look over his avatar, disbelief befalling her person. "You have not changed at all," the words slip out of her lips in a breath. "But why would you change, here in [The World]?" One of the hands that holds onto his person peels itself from his back only to reach up and cup one of his cheeks with a tender thumb running across his skin in a repeated methodical fashion. "Please do not hurt yourself," Lopper speaks in a voice just above a whisper, "please do not forget."
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Level 1
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud Male and I've made 28 posts
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Post by Rikoto on Nov 7, 2017 15:02:28 GMT -5
"Ah, no, I don't hurt myself." Not anymore, anyway. "It'd be a pain. Logistics of punching yourself in the face are fairly complex, too."
But Rikoto wasn't an expert. There might be heretofore undiscovered tricks that actually made self-punching a sort of sport. Friends might replace the age-old practice of ridiculing eachother with the perfection of self-punch techniques.
Rikoto shook his head. As if. Fanciful flights of fantasy.
"You been hanging around here?" he said. "Must've been boring. Lonely, too."
Like waking up every morning to the dreadful idea you'll never know what love is.
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Level 20
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,482 posts
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Post by ♛ L0PP3R ♛ on Nov 7, 2017 15:07:02 GMT -5
Lopper laughs, despite tears still threatening to flow from her eyes. "Something like that, she speaks before inhaling deeply. Her eyes continue to search over Rikoto's face, as if in shock that someone she recognizes from those fragmented memories is standing before her once more. Somewhere deep down inside of her person, Lopper is afraid this is just another digital ghost. But she did not want for that to be true, she could not handle another fragment surfacing only to betray her emotions. "[The World] is my home." A pause. "Is it not your home as well?"
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Level 1
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud Male and I've made 28 posts
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Post by Rikoto on Nov 7, 2017 15:12:53 GMT -5
Rikoto stared up at the ceiling. Was it his home? That might've been true long ago. When he'd stay up until three, even as his father threatened to unplug the router. When he laughed, and cried, despaired and rejoiced in The World.
But they drifted apart. He bit his lower lip. The entire crew drifted apart and scattered. That sense of belonging had also been scattered.
So Rikoto shook his head and stared at Lopper's feet, and the steps beneath.
"No," he said softly. "I don't think it is any more."
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Level 20
I joined on January 1970, I am a proud and I've made 1,482 posts
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Post by ♛ L0PP3R ♛ on Nov 7, 2017 15:17:59 GMT -5
There is a stinging sensation in Rikoto's words, a feeling she could not particularly place into words. If Lopper could understand what it is like to be the mother of a child she so desperately wishes to keep within her safety net but whom only wishes to be free, the feeling would be similar to such a tragedy. "It can be your home again," Lopper coos with a slow nod of her head to emphasize her words. "Do you think this..." Lopper's words drift off, her eyes darting to the darkness as if something in it had caught her attention. "Do you think this meeting between you and I is of chance?" Lopper falls silent, her eyes returning onto Rikoto then. Bottom lip quivering slightly, she takes a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself once more. "You are not alone anymore," she chirps, "I'm here now!"
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