Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Never Really liked Pancakes

    Share
    avatar
    Fear
    Exabyte

    Exabyte

    Posts : 1263
    Join date : 2013-09-04
    Location : The comfort of a grave
    Level : 60

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    65/65  (65/65)
    Health Bar:
    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Fear on Mon Jul 21, 2014 10:59 am

    Time: Midnight
    Date: January 8th, 0004



    The Daemon Wastes - it was hard to imagine anything of worth to be found in such a bleak, hellish place.

    An enormous desert that threatened to swallow any foolish traveler who paid it no respect, many had perished beneath its indifferent sky and were forever lost to the shifting sands. Only the strong could tame the unruly wilderness, the chosen few blessed to make their homes amongst the succulents and grim remains of the fallen pioneers that had met their demises at the hands of both scorching heat and merciless cold. Why any sinner would want to live out the rest of their criminal days at the sweat and toil of such elements was truly beyond the Dark Judge's understanding. It was far easier, after all, to simply lay upon one's back and let the powers that be claim them. Nevertheless, there was a fishing village nestled between both earth and sea that had apparently refused to embrace the aforementioned reasoning. This will of course have to be swiftly... remedied, and tonight.

    Decrepit feet carried with them a higher purpose through the blistering sands, an impartial logic that could not be denied nor thwarted by something so ephemeral as nature. The sun high above may be cruel and the roughened creatures of this dog-eat-dog biome may think to dine upon an early snack, but no list of intimidating factors will keep a virtuous servant of the law from continuing their good work. It simply was unfathomable to even consider.

    For many hours Judge Fear had journeyed through the Wastes on foot, the words "rest" and "break" foreign in and of themselves, and for many miles he defied both the desert and the hostile denizens that called it home. A few of the latter had thought to take advantage of an emaciated corpse despite it being against their better logic, and for their arrogance a roaming group of marauders had met their just deserved ends. The stroke of midnight will herald a similar Judgement Day for a certain fishing village as well, and it would be unprofessional of him to arrive late. Without his transport or a competent substitute, the ghoul had departed far earlier and his diligence paid off; the purge had not yet begun. Upon the summit of a sandy dune with the moon's glow serving as a pale backdrop, a shadowy figure at last found it suitable to halt. No more did the Dark Judge have to travel and his stiff body could now rest after so long a walk. Beneath him and several miles ahead lied a sleepy town, where unsuspecting souls were content to ease their worries and fears so that peaceful dreams may take their stead. Ah, how delusional sinners were. Soon all of their struggles will be uplifted and the living shall rejoice within death's welcoming embrace.

    A glorious start to the new day fast approaching.

    Ghostly eyes removed themselves from the slumbering village and were instead swept around, left and then right. Where was the contractor? He best be punctual if he wanted to make a lasting impression. Stony gaze returning upon the town, leathery claws quietly drummed upon a metallic casing as Judge Fear idly began to count the seconds. It won't be long before the clock struck its fabled hour...



    ((OOC Note: Sorry for being late on this. Family gathering happened longer than expected and my favourite aunt decided to visit. Her punch to the gut is as strong as ever, and while I'm watching my other aunt's dog too!))
    avatar
    Prixlezub
    Inactive Account

    Inactive Account

    Posts : 1203
    Join date : 2010-10-19
    Location : Kc'nsst taa As'traakk
    Level : 46

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    0/0  (0/0)
    Health Bar:
    510/510  (510/510)
    Stamina Bar:
    92/92  (92/92)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Prixlezub on Mon Jul 21, 2014 1:59 pm

    He had walked long, he had walked far. Yes it was as evident on the ghoul's form as the bat winged helm that rested upon his shoulders. In the darkness one observed the ghoulish creature that decided to loiter upon the sand dunes, beneath his outward scent of decay and noxious chemicals was a long story of distant fields and burning sands, upholstery barely identifiable through black smoke and charred wood. Yes, this was the one. Not a substitute or shade but the Judge's genuine form and identity.

    How interesting that his vehicular companion did not accompany him this time around. The earlier meeting must have drained the poor thing.

    As Judge Fear stood there waiting, a familiar form quietly ascended the dune, flat business shoes disturbing the sand with an earthy hiss. Although the being's powerful aura likely gave it away far before it reached the summit, if Fear's abilities proved as competent as before. "Good evening, Judge Fear." The contractor greeted, his dark eyes appearing to glow through the desert's nighttime shade as the moon reflected off of them. "A fine evening tonight, we should have a crystal clear view when everything happens." His gaze idly glided over to the metallic box Fear held in his possession, claws tapping against it. There was no need to inquire about its contents, for the man detected no hint of traps or deceit past its metallic scent. Merely the scent of something inorganic that he had come across before. Plastics, with its odd subtle mix of minerals both metallic and non. While he could not see the object in question, the contractor deduced that likely the source was from Judge Fear's vehicular companion; its data compressed into a disc or tape of some sort.

    With a satisfied hum, the man turned his gaze back to the city, raising a hand from his side. "Lets not delay, the night is still young after all." He thrummed, the contractor's dark fingers curling with his thumb poised against his ring finger. His gaze briefly turned to the ghoul before his poised fingers gave a loud snap, and in the very same instance a ball of light overtook the village in a silent, blinding flare that briefly lit up the sands as if it were midday. Only a breath later that same flash constricted into a thin sliver with a thunderous clap, the sands rolling like a tidal wave out from the town to the duo that stood upon the dune before washing over them and dissipating into the distance.

    If only for a moment, if one listened closely enough, they could hear the faint cries of thousands on the wind as their lives were snuffed in but a mere blink of an eye.

    As the blinding white beam faded into nothing, a single shard of black could be seen rising before the moon before soaring straight towards both ghoul and contractor like a polished bullet. However, it was not set to doom the Dark Judge to a similar fate, but slowed and rested in the contractor's palm."There you are." The contractor stated, satisfied with his work. "The county of Sante Marie wiped of life, all five-thousand-six-hundred-and-twenty-six from edge to edge." His gaze went to the baseball sized oblong shape that he turned about in his hands, the sky's reflection perfect in its mirror surface. "The other half of your payment will be with you shortly."

    In the distance, if the ghoul's eyes had readjusted to the darkness once more, he would find that while the town had been darkened under such a display of raw power, it still was standing with all its boats floating undisturbed in the tide. How did that fancy the ghoul's tastes?
    avatar
    Fear
    Exabyte

    Exabyte

    Posts : 1263
    Join date : 2013-09-04
    Location : The comfort of a grave
    Level : 60

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    65/65  (65/65)
    Health Bar:
    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Fear on Tue Jul 22, 2014 2:21 pm

    And there the creature of the hour was, although the Dark Judge remained quiet and did not return the contractor's greeting. He merely acknowledged the man's presence with a wordless stare and permitted the contractor to stand beside him. "Yes, let us not delay," came an icy hiss.

    Judge Fear would be a liar if he denied his growing curiosity as to why the contractor was here and not... well, there. Did the man think to purge an entire village from this distance? Perhaps, yet the ghoul could detect no hidden armed forces or even a single execution squad. Just the thousands of restful souls down below and nothing more... Immediately his mind began to wonder if this had all been a trap, some elaborate ruse to steal the information and take advantage of the Dark Judge's forced generosity. It would not have been the first time and nor will it be the last. Silently the undead fiend heightened his mental awareness, psychic tendrils reaching out into the void and drawing upon otherworldly powers. There was oddly little to draw from the surrounding psi-flux, Portal Breach again proving itself to be quite disagreeable. Now, why was the contractor about to - ?

    Be still, for judgement comes!

    A warning, even if for the most minute of split seconds, alerted the Dark Judge to whatever the contractor was about to do. With a snap of his fingers the world was consumed in a most dazzling white light; the miniature star swelled and collapsed, but it did not do so without consequences for those in the village. A normal mortal would no doubt have been blinded and left in a daze, ignorant of what truly happened. An experienced Judge of the law such as himself, however... Although his eyes failed to discern the event right down to its nanoseconds, his mind had already made sense of the contractor's fulfillment.

    Souls. Thousands upon thousands of souls had been violently wrenched from their still-warm bodies and condensed into what was none other than a crystal no bigger than the size of one's palm. It was yet to be discovered if the contractor could hear their horrified cries; their unpleasant cries.

    The howling gale of terror and agony was overpowering even for the ghoul, but still he remained steadfast and let the gentle sands wash over him.

    The Contractor wrote:"There you are. The county of Sante Marie wiped of life, all five-thousand-six-hundred-and-twenty-six from edge to edge."

    And so it was...

    For the longest time Judge Fear was quiet, his ethereal gaze affixed upon the breathless town of Santa Marie. Only the darkness now called it home, along with the vengeful remains of those poor souls too stubborn to go quietly to their fates. An odd emotion to feel, disgust and admiration...

    Thump!

    Suddenly the metallic casing found itself placed against the contractor's breast, the ghoul never once breaking his line of sight with the village. "The first half of our agreement as previously discussed." This was K.A.R.R.'s fair share, a digital collection of all the compiled information it had managed to process while the Dark Judge had been "entertaining" the Lochlann demon. "Take this data disc and guard it carefully; you will not be given a second copy should something ill befall this one." Strangely, Judge Fear pointedly ignored the crystalline sphere now held by an accomplished contractor. Was this because he found the contractor to be a threat to his profession or was there something more?
    avatar
    Prixlezub
    Inactive Account

    Inactive Account

    Posts : 1203
    Join date : 2010-10-19
    Location : Kc'nsst taa As'traakk
    Level : 46

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    0/0  (0/0)
    Health Bar:
    510/510  (510/510)
    Stamina Bar:
    92/92  (92/92)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Prixlezub on Tue Jul 22, 2014 5:44 pm

    Awestruck, were we?

    The contractor turned and looked at his informant expectantly, nearly anticipating some sort of stubborn remark regarding his work after the prior hiss. Ah, but it would be foolish to think that such a flare would not silence the ghoul, for there he stood. Unmoving, quiet as the moon continued to move across the sky. Inwardly the man thought it complimenting , perhaps the Judge had gotten far more than he bargained for in such a quick and expedient manner... Alas, if that were so, why then was he so quiet? Nary a jovial hiss or otherwise was present in his behavior or actions, and the man wondered if, just maybe, the ghoul could comprehend what had just occurred.

    After all, the man too beneath his guise could see the departure of such magnitude from the town, could hear the ethereal howls of the dead roll past them in the shock wave. As a spirit at the undead's very core, could he perhaps share kinship, sympathy with those that had been removed and therein feel a sense of looming dread? The contractor pondered this for a moment and could figure whether or not to revel in the ghoul's silent, telling reaction. As the metallic case was pressed into the fabric of his suit, the man pocketed the glistening sphere of obsidian. Strangely as he tucked the thing away it left nary a bulge Accepting the first half of their agreed information, his hands grasped it in a gentle yet firm manner before tucking it under his arm.

    "Of course. I shall protect it with my very being." He rumbled in reply. There was nary a need for curiosity as to why the undead Judge continued to gaze upon the darkened remains of the town, but a question of what certainly rolled about in the man's mind. As in what the ghoul was truly thinking...

    Perhaps it would be a question to be answered later. The contractor certainly was not here to pry into Judge Fear's innermost contemplations.

    ....

    Down in the village, shards of black cycled through the shops, slipping under doors and through cracked windows. Nothing but the glow of their orange cores could be readily discerned from the shadows that overtook the shore-side locale. Like glittering fireflies they swarmed about and dissipated until all began to congregate at the bank in the center of town. Each of the odd constructs deposited odd, square shapes that were attracted and amassed with a clatter like plastic, a single hovering jagged sphere present in the center of the vault. The only thing holding the mass in one piece and place were four of the odd obsidian shards, their cores bared as their very facets orbited slowly around the floating ball. The vault's heavy door? Melted down into slag, its remains still glowed a fiery red as many more of the flitting constructs approached until the ball could not be added to any longer.

    The remaining shards deconstructed and reformed, a rectangular shape the size of a small chest quickly building itself beneath the amassed ball of plastic shards. At once the ball was carefully released, its shape clattering into an even pile within the newly created vessel's confines before a lid was constructed to slide over the top seamlessly. It was only then that a low humming had made itself apparent, for what shards were not used in the creation of the glossy black vessel began to spin.

    Faster, faster and faster still, until their cores melded and formed a gate, the orange washed view of a desert and two figures standing side by side apparent for but a moment before the chest was swallowed up and the spinning fiery cores imploded on themselves. Again the vault room was entirely dark, true silence overtaking the place as minute granules of obsidian drifted about the air like dust and settled into the floor.

    ....

    There was a sudden pulling of air, the atmosphere growing stuffy and crisp all at once as the edges of the air but five feet before them seemed to tug and contort before splitting in an orange blaze and roaring gale before suddenly growing still... but not before something audibly thumped against the sandy ground. In the aftermath of that fiery belch sat a black, featureless chest. Large but not enough so that it could not be comfortably held, its surface glistened like polished onyx, the surrounding dunes and sky along with the contractor and the ghoul were reflected with mirror-like clarity. Despite the box's scalding arrival, if the ghoul were to touch it, he would find its surface rather cool to the touch.

    "Your payment." The contractor announced evenly. "Within is all the credits that could be gathered from the town. You may check for yourself if you are so inclined." He motioned with an open palm towards the black vessel, before turning back to the Dark Judge once more.

    He need not say anything else, Judge Fear knew what was expected at this point.
    avatar
    Fear
    Exabyte

    Exabyte

    Posts : 1263
    Join date : 2013-09-04
    Location : The comfort of a grave
    Level : 60

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    65/65  (65/65)
    Health Bar:
    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Fear on Wed Jul 23, 2014 6:18 am

    Awestruck? Perhaps, perhaps... Judge Fear was not one for facial expression, given obvious circumstances, and he carefully guarded his innermost thoughts and emotions from the one standing not more than a meter away. No biting quip or jubilant approval; merely a heavy silence and a question that may never be answered. It was just as well, one could suppose. To thoroughly comprehend the Dark Judge was a folly that had oftentimes led many great minds before the mouth of madness. The contractor at this time had little to fret over, but the threat was there - it will always be there.

    When a gateway of sorts churned before the duo and spat out an inconspicuous black trunk, its features null and void, the Dark Judge hardly stirred. The orange portal came and it went, briefly illuminating the ghoul's armour in its hellish glow before allowing the darkness to greedily reclaim the area.

    Payment, yes. Inside the trunk was no doubt all the credits K.A.R.R. needed for his repairs and upgrades, although the currency would ultimately be useless to Judge Fear. He had no need for money and the material possessions it could purchase. Save for the rare occurrence that an unscrupulous arms dealer wished to part with weapons of mass destruction for a hearty sum of plastic or coin, the undead fiend felt little in the way of motivation when it came to acquiring funds. Regardless of his personal inclinations, the Dark Judge saw no reason to inspect the chest's contents and would be taking it back with him to the farm. "I need not scrutinize the deposit. After all, to entertain a double-cross would only serve in aiding the Lochlann demon," he hissed. In other words best left unspoken, Judge Fear had no desire to count the monies like some starved parasite. Let the glorified bean counter resting in a barn figure it out.

    Right, that was now 3/4s of the agreement fully carried out. Just left his part in all this, didn't it?

    ...creeeaak!

    A leathery hand rested itself firmly upon the contractor's broad shoulder, gaunt and spindly fingers clasping themselves one by one onto his illusion like the many segmented legs of a spider's. Yellowed talons pressed downward and a bitter chill enveloped the general vicinity as the ghoul squeezed. Embrace me... whispered a faint and inviting voice in the far reaches of the contractor's mind.

    -----

    Mindlink established; it feels deathly ill, and negative impulses are far stronger than normal...

    -----
    Slowly both the town and the outlying desert faded away, cool grains of sand coagulating into roads of cobble and dirt. Buildings of European design sprung up and the ocean gave way for a gleaming lake. High above their heads the moon shrunk into a brilliant sphere and soon became the sun, night dipping past the mountains far off in the distance to allow a new day's passage. Behold the once-thriving fishing village of Lochlann, contractor, where you were its esteemed guest only in memory. A rotten aroma, pungent and fresh, overpowered the sense of smell, and a light fog blanketed the area. Not a single soul stirred, much like the county of Santa Marie...

    Suddenly the vision bounced and hobbled, their range of vision involuntarily moving forward. Should the contractor be as smart and perceptive as he claimed, he would instantly recognize that someone was walking. It was a disjointed walk, every motion a struggle to be at harmony with the many working parts that aided it, but it was a walk all the same. Soon the two minds were brought to one of the cozy abodes so commonly seen within Lochlann's borders, where a decrepit green hand reached out to quietly shove its unlocked door aside.

    You were not given a vision, contractor, but his vision... Now watch very carefully, for every detail was no more important than its kin.

    A heavy shadow draped itself into the lifeless house, winged adornments clearly visible, and soon both Dark Judge and contractor entered. It was a modest interior with seldom traces of opulence, and it had been a place that was once the center of much love. Several objects, such as pieces of fine china and furniture, emitted incredibly faint auras; a soft, whitish glow proved most attractive to a curious psychic. Leathery hands gently caressed such items of interest and the room began to slightly pale. Nothing came as a result, however, and soon the hands moved onto inspect the scene of great distress: the family table. Plates had been messily discarded and thrown onto the floor, where a few had even shattered. Ghostly eyes were cast downward and two very rotten feet were seen being mindful of jagged porcelain shards.

    Knives, forks, spoons and even pieces of rotten food were touched, the ghoul's talons tracing every couture and shape possible. As with before, nothing, but wasn't it incredibly odd to find everything in such a violent state of disarray?

    The Dark Judge at the time seemed to think so, and he rounded a corner to discover a rather copious amount of dried blood without a moment's warning. Patches of muddied crimson stained the stairs ascending upward and the walls themselves, even the low ceiling saturated with liberal splatters. So much blood, and the claw marks that tore deep grooves into the wallpaper were far from encouraging... What lay upstairs, hiding in wait?

    Here there was a noticeable pause in the ghoul's inspection, his gaze returning to the conjoined den and kitchen. Nothing was there, yet an unmistakeable feeling of impending dread still hounded him... Nevertheless, he took a few hesitant steps upward and once again paused.

    A gripping silence was what rewarded his mindfulness, and the Dark Judge then determined that nothing was truly here. Whatever had done this, be it one or many, was no longer here...

    Walking up the stairs had proved... mildly interesting, but only to one who was not accustomed to psychic disturbances. Halfway up and after having encountered nothing as of yet, the bloodstained walls began to shake and groan. Immediately the Dark Judge entered a crouch and things began to darken, the edges of his peripherals seeming to tingle. It was a psychic disturbance and one that was dangerously close! A child's disembodied laughter echoed throughout the establishment, haunting and having no point of origin, and it was followed by a woman's bloodcurdling scream. At once there was the rattling of chains as a mantrap became brandished, the ghoul slowly creeping up the rest of the stairs.

    The startling disturbance came and it went, leaving the crouching Dark Judge all alone in a dimly-lit and grungy upstairs hallway...

    Almost on par and if not worse than downstairs, the second story painted a horrific tale of woe. Green hands reached out to gingerly brush their fingertips upon the torn walls and the hall quickly lit up. A hushed sigh reached the ghoul and his mind was taken back to a time where things had been joyful - alive. Sunlight brought forth a cheery glow and images of spectral children were seen giggling as they chased each other between rooms. Ah, the youthful games of innocence and mirth... A deep and affectionate voice, distinctly male with its owner unseen, chuckled and lightly admonished the children for running around and irking their mother. That was all this particular image yielded, for the ghoul soon removed his hand from the wall and the passage lapsed into its grim, bloodied reality.

    No more did the children laugh and everything fell into an uncertain darkness, the Dark Judge once again pressing forward. A massacre had happened here, yes. If it wasn't already obvious from the amount of blood covering at least three-quarters of the hall, then it was made so when the ghoul went from room to room. He discovered very little throughout many of them, though, and the auras within these disheveled chambers were as faint as the ones downstairs.

    That was, until, he reached the master bedroom. The ghostly whispers were the strongest here.

    A great disturbance took hold of him and the Dark Judge felt compelled to enter. The peripherals of his vision throbbed and blurred, forcing only the very forward of his sight to remain unblemished. For good reason, as the source of this psychic resonance was that of a child's plaything - a blood-soaked teddy bear that had upon it pieces of blonde and brunette hairs. Its silhouette was cast in a rich crimson colour, a telling sign of very strong negative residue, and quietly the ghoul inspect the master bedroom one last time. He took particular note of a closet and a pair of tattered nightgowns, but little else jumped out at him; just the teddy bear and its overpowering aura. If he hoped to clear his mind and discovery what had transpired here, he would need to establish direct contact with this focal point.

    And establish it he did, bony hands carefully picking the teddy bear off of the bloodied floor. Its lifeless eyes staring directly into his own, the world began to darken and groan...

    Through a Child's Eyes, Revisited:
    "Margaret, did you make sure to eat all of your breakfast before heading off to school?" said a kind and motherly voice.
    The world shook up and down, as if someone were nodding.

    A hazy fog was steadily uplifted soon after and a warm, radiant glow filtered in from above. It was the sun's gentle rays felt from a nearby window, and slowly a room began to form in the waning darkness. Next came the pleasant aromas of fresh, homemade foods; spiced meats, the sugary delights of morning pastries, and an unmistakable hint of the lake's bounty. Everything complemented each other in perfect, sensual harmony and a pair of blurry figures moved off in the distance.

    It was a woman, no later than her mid 30s, and a young boy. He appeared to be roughly ten years of age.

    "Mom, can I have another helping?" the child asked.
    "May I have another helping," corrected the mother.

    A steaming plate of breakfast morsels, smelling absolutely tantalizing, was carried off from the kitchen counter and brought to the table. The table... Ah, the table. It was much too large and much too high, and the vision's direction changed as if to look upon the mother expectantly. "Momma, may I have another helping?" echoed a sweet and young voice. The gaze was then directed downward upon a fluffy teddy bear, a pair of soft, delicate hands stroking its corduroy fur. "Mr. Paw-Paw says he's hungry."

    Laughter could be heard as the mother came over, an adult's palm reaching out to stroke fine strands of hair.
    "And I bet Mr. Paw-Paw would like to stay home from school, wouldn't he?"

    Another nod, this time more vigourous than the last. The boy looked none too thrilled.

    There was suddenly the sound of a nearby door loudly creaking open and everyone's sights was cast in its direction.
    "Well Mr. Paw-Paw should know that an education is important," interjected a gruff voice.

    "Percy!"
    "Pops!"
    "Daddy!"


    A child's excited feet could be heard scampering across wood as the vision's owner leaped off her chair and rushed for her father. She tackled one of his legs, clutches tight, and looked up at the man who smelled strongly of fish and sausage. "Daddy, did you have a good morning at work today?" the young girl asked.

    The response was a rumbling chuckle, but it held a tinge of sadness...

    "I'm afraid the fish have gone off to their families today, my little sweetie pie," answered her father. He knelt down on one knee and planted a warm kiss upon his daughter's forehead, the child squealing with delight.

    "Daddy, your fuzzy caterpillar tickles!" she exclaimed.

    Done cleaning the plates and now freed of one duty, the mother came over and sounded concerned. "That makes this the fifth straight day in a row," she sighed. It would seem, then, that there were troubles with lake Lochlann. "What of the boys? Your friends? How are they and their families holding up in these trying times?"

    Rising up and ruffling his daughter's hair, the man known as Percy had to share in his wife's sighing.
    "Same as us, I'm afraid. Some have taken to pulling their odds and ends together, but we may have to ask for help from the city. Things are simply too difficult right now and we're thinking about getting a town meeting together. It ought to quell some fears and quieten down a few - ?"

    Suddenly furious knocking happened upon the door and everyone jumped in place.

    "McCreedy! McCreedy!" some man cried outside. "For God's sake, McCreedy, open your blasted door!"

    A look of concern was traded between the two parents but the father ultimately went for the door and opened it, sounding none too happy. "For God's sake yourself, Timothy," he grumbled. "Can't you see that I'm trying to have breakfast with my family? What's all this racket about, anyhow. Why are you here and not down a the docks?"

    "Hi, fishyman! waved Margaret. Timothy must have been one of the local fisherman.

    The family's visitor hesitantly waved back to the little girl but not for long. He soon returned his gaze to the father and stammered with a lowered voice. "L-Look, things are not right at the local church," he said. "Something mighty awful has been going down lately and folks are starting to talk. The priests won't see us, diseases are sprouting up left and right, and now the fish are gone. Gone, McCreedy."

    An alarmed gasp escaped from the mother, one hand shakily placed over her mouth.

    "Now, we don't know what's going on," Timothy continued. "We just know that things aren't natural and that - ?"

    Ring! Ring! Ring!
    Both men paused, appearing puzzled, as the sound of a large bell tolled off in the far distance.
    "Blimey... Is that the church bell?" asked the father, incredulous.

    Sure enough it was, and the two men started for the outside.
    "Alice, stay inside with the children," he told his wife. There was no sound of objection and outside the men went, with Margaret peeking over the door's wooden frame. "You too, sweetie pie."

    "Yes, daddy..."

    From this small, meek vantage point everything could be seen. Both the father and Timothy looked onward at the church sitting atop a faraway hill along with several other households pouring out into the street to see what was going on. No one had a clue as to why a church bell would be ringing on such an odd time as this. Timothy was the first to voice this.

    "Huh... I don't recall there being mass to day," he mumbled.
    "That's because there is no mass today. Those priests up there have finally gone nutters. Wait, do you see that?"
    Timothy glanced at the father and then back ahead, squinting. "See what?"
    "Right there," the father pointed. His finger trailed a... a row of teeming ants? No, that wasn't right. But his finger did trace something. "Looks like something is pouring out from the church. I reckon it's probably those priests, although I don't remember being so much of them."
    "Hmm, maybe they took in a few prospects? They seem to be coming to town in a hurry."

    And then, in the blink of an eye, everything had gone straight to Hell.

    Within seconds the mysterious figures running down the hill descended upon the unfortunate souls who had been the closest and the screams began. Body parts, visible even from this distance, were thrown into the air with ease and generous amounts of blood and entrails were seen being released from the poor townsfolk. Madness ensued next as panic and reality sank in, ungodly howling taking to the streets.

    "Blimey, blimey!" screamed Timothy, his face overcome with shock as he gripped his hat. "Those people had been torn asunder as if they were - !"
    But the father had thankfully come to his senses first and he snatched at Timothy. "What are you doing, you idiot!? Get inside!"

    "D-Daddy, what happened to those - ?"
    "GET INSIDE, MARGARET, JUST GET INSIDE!"

    The little girl was snatched up by her father and clung to tightly in his arms, Timothy slamming the front door shut and barricading it.
    "What on God's green... Timothy, what are you doing!?" demanded the mother.
    "Alice, not now!" her husband growled. "Something came out of the church and mauled a whole row of people. Get the children upstairs and keep quiet!" He placed their daughter in her arms and immediately went for a certain cabinet in the living room,

    The mother did as she was told, face pallid, and immediately took for her son's hand. "C-Come along with me, John. You too, Margaret. We're going upstairs, okay?"
    "Mom... Mom, what's going on?" her son timidly asked.
    Margaret could hardly make a sound, her face stinging with fresh tears as the vision blurred.
    "N-Nothing, John, that's all," their mother lied weakly with a smile. "Now come along to Mommy's bedroom! We're going to stay up there and not make a sound, alright?"

    The two children nodded and were frightened as their father returned with two loaded rifles.

    "Here," he grunted. A rifle was handed to Timothy, his fingers white to the bone with horror. "Take this ammunition pouch and conserve your shots. Don't fire unless you absolutely have to."
    "Y-Yes, sir..."

    Leaving the men downstairs to face whatever demons had been unleashed, the mother ushered her children upstairs and led them to the master bedroom. From there she shut the door and locked it, placing the key into her apron. "Alright my darlings," she said quietly, trying not to cry. The woman came close to her children and looked at them knowingly. "Okay, we're going to play a little game, hmm? Would you two like to play a little game?"

    Both nodded.

    "Good, good... Okay, we're going to play a game of Hide-and-Seek but this is a special game. The rules of this game is that you do not make a sound. Understood?"
    Again more nods, with the little boy's lip quivering. It was impossible to drown out the screams coming from outside.
    The mother reached out and tenderly held his chin, once more trying to smile but only to shed a wayward tear. "Be strong, John," she said, voice hardly above a whisper. "Be strong for Margaret, oka - "

    BANG, BANG!

    A sudden and horrible sound came from the front door and both children screamed, their mother wrapping her arms around them tightly in an effort to silence them. "Quiet, quiet! Remember our game!" she whispered.

    "Christ, they're coming through the door!"
    "Get your rifle ready! Get it ready!"
    "Oh God, oh God... What are those things? WHAT ARE THEY!?"

    With a monstrous boom it could only be assumed that the door was beaten down and shots, resonating and deep like thunder, shook this very household.

    KRA-KOW! KRA-KOW!
    The rifles were useless as a man's scream was heard above the ravenous din of howls and shrieks.

    Timothy was gone.

    "Dad!" Little John could not take it anymore. He ripped himself away from his mother's protective embrace and snatched the key in her apron, running for the door.
    "John, NO!"
    But it was too late.
    The young boy had opened the door and was already heading for the downstairs, his mother racing after him.

    Margaret, not wanting to be all alone, cried and tried to keep up. "Mooooommy!"
    She shouldn't have, as the last few minutes were to be the most terrifying of her innocent life.

    "Get away, damn you! Get away and back to the furthest reaches of Hell!"
    More loud gunshots could be heard as their father slowly made his way back up the stairs, blood staining his face and clothes. It was not his.
    Claws, horrid and blood-drenched claws, lashed out at the space in front of him and wide, snapping maws were not close behind. He faced an unending torrent of putrid flesh and pus-ridden wounds, creatures of unfathomable horrors giving chase. All traces of humanity had nearly been stamped out beneath the layers of cruel stitching and sores.

    This was not the end of Margaret's nightmare, for, as try as he may and as courageously as he fought, her father fell within seconds. He had made the mistake of looking up at his family, startled, and lost focus.

    It was all too sudden.

    With an inhuman leap one of the grotesque creatures lunged and ripped out the man's throat, screams echoing down the hall from the surviving family members. John was next. He tried to run, run back to mother's urging arms, but to no avail. Another creature jumped over their father's fallen body and hooked a cruel talon around the boy's ankle. In the next instant he was dragged back down the stairs, where the awaiting mob of terrors plunged upon him and proceeded to rip the child limb from limb. The look of confusion and fright in John's eyes was the last his mother ever got to see.

    "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she cried, overwrought with grief.
    Turning to her last valuable possession, the mother plucked Margaret off her feet and ran back into the master bedroom. She locked the door shut, hands trembling, and tried to barricade the door as best she could.

    "What happened to John, what happened to John!?" Margaret cried, her vision blurred with thick tears.
    Her mother didn't answer, instead demanding that the little girl continue to play their game. "Hide, Margaret, hide!" she cried.
    The child, no longer wanting to disobey and hopeless, crawled under the bed and cradled the teddy bear in her arms. "It'll be okay, Mr. Paw-Paw! It'll be okay...!" she whimpered, wiping the snot off her nose.

    It would not, and in the next minute the bedroom door had fallen.

    Oh how her mother had put up a good fight.
    All little Margaret could see were her mother's feet, her best slippers, and an overwhelming pair of claws and talons. The stench of decay and rot was unbearable.

    "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be thy - !"
    The prayer could not be finished and the woman fell.

    THUD!

    Margaret was now face-to-face with her mother, her eyes transfixed on the bloody visage before her.

    "E-Everything will be o-okay..." But it would not.
    Within the instant her mother was dragged away, nails leaving gouge marks in the floor, as the creatures took her. Then came her screams, horrific and bloodcurdling, before everything became silent...

    It would seem that the madness was over, but such was it not to be.
    One creature came back, its claws visible from beneath the bed, as it began to loudly sniff around. A terrifying gurgle, a sound forged in the pits of Hell itself, as those cruel talons clacked against wood. Margaret did her best to keep quiet but the tears kept coming and her body kept shivering. Please protect her, Mr. Paw-Paw, please protect her... She bit her lip and covered her mouth with a hand, nostrils flaring.

    Please, please, ple -

    "HRAAAAAAAAAAAAAURGH!"
    And just like that she screamed, Margaret feeling something cold and clammy latch onto her ankle as she was forcefully pulled away.

    Darkness... but not before a pair of searing, infernal eyes peered forth from the void and stared directly into Margaret's soul. No, not Margaret's but...

    I... see... you...


    And so concludes Part I...
    avatar
    Prixlezub
    Inactive Account

    Inactive Account

    Posts : 1203
    Join date : 2010-10-19
    Location : Kc'nsst taa As'traakk
    Level : 46

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    0/0  (0/0)
    Health Bar:
    510/510  (510/510)
    Stamina Bar:
    92/92  (92/92)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Prixlezub on Wed Jul 23, 2014 10:53 am

    So the ghoul wished not to look over what the contractor had brought forth... Very well. The man gave an understanding nod, allowing the subject to drop. After the contractor's previous example there was little reason to ponder a trap or otherwise malicious means to swindle the ghoul from his information.

    The box left to sit in the sand until their deal was completed, Judge Fear's talons were soon pressed against the man's shoulder. Talons pressed against dark fabric, a texture like that of quality textiles to the point that if it were not for the fact the ghoul knew of the man's illusion, it could have been mistaken for the real thing. However, even with the firm squeeze he did not appear to feel discomfort, not even as the air around them became cold enough that his breath pooled before his mouth like wisps of cloud. While the man held no qualms over being touched by a rotten hand, his breath hitched slightly upon hearing a whisper in the back of his mind, a sickening feeling that enveloped him like a thick damp blanket.

    Hesitantly, the man lowered his mental defenses. Little by little the impenetrable void that surrounded the man's mind became thinner until it broke away in a manner like sticking ones finger through flimsy wet tissues. Yes, allowing such a strange and dangerous creature into his mind was likely folly, but in order to receive the ghoul's wisdom there was no other way he knew of to receive the information and keep the Judge's presence contained to where he needed to be instead of where he wanted. Alas, with that lowering of his mental shields, the Judge would surely find what answers he wanted regarding who the mysterious contractor was, would he not? Heeding the voice that beckoned him, what lay beneath the contractor's guise embraced the ghoul's mental presence...

    The ghoul would find himself embraced not by mortal man or some odd spectral being, but searing fire. A presence that outlived civilizations, planets and stars alike was revealed, its power terrifying as its potential was near limitless. The hissing, rumbling tongues of before droned like thunder, and the ghoul would find himself dwarfed in the towering presence of none other than a demon. One that regarded him with thoughtful curiosity, not hesitant but hardly eager to entertain this new force within the limits of its consciousness.

    Its name was a rumble and a roar all in one, as the formidable title of Prixlezub taa Cr'err Grengrr rolled off the demon's presence like the growl and snap of approaching thunder. Yet, the infernal aura did not seem to feel trepidation at its name being found out. Perhaps he was ignorant to this discovery or maybe names were merely names, and nothing more.

    Introductions aside, both Prince and Judge were swept off to Lochlann. The familiar scent of decay filled the demon's mind and sunlight overtook the night. Of course, there could be no way that the ghoul, at such a weakened state, could possibly transport them there so quickly. No, this was a memory as the world began to jostle and lurch forward, the tell-tale signs of a shambling walk. He, no, they walked into one of the many houses that lined the cobblestone street, and the prince detected an odd warmth to it.

    Not subjective, romanticized in the way one would call a house warm and cozy, but in the fact that nearly everything had some form of aura that encompassed it. More so those objects that would be touched regularly, like the silverware that the Dark Judge so gingerly ran his yellowed talons over. Everything that held an inviting white glow caught the ghoul's attention as he carefully made his way around the ruined household. However they hardly interested the ghoul as the room paled but little else occurred. Past the dining area, Fear's path lead them up to a set of stairs, wherein the abode took on a deep shade of red and the stench of old, dried blood.

    Here, the Demon Prince felt the Dark Judge's sense of dread although his was mixed with a morbid curiosity regarding the claw marks. Minions? Likely so, he too had seen what the lurking demon stewed beneath the cobblestone roads, what horrors lay waiting in the dark. As the Dark Judge ascended the stairway to the bedrooms on the second floor the walls groaned and shook, the prince's attention enraptured by the odd occurrence. Was it startling? Of course, but the demon was far too old to harbor such childlike superstitions of fear that took over his very being. however, the Prince was not without discomfort, a crinkling echoing within his mind as the house darkened and began to waver.

    Disembodied laughter, a horrid scream. As the prince snarled beneath his projected visage, the undead Judge appeared to share a similar but more cautious sentiment, a man trap pulled from his belt and held at the ready. All at once the odd, haunting sensation ceased and the stairway was its usual color again as Judge Fear continued to ascend. At the top of the stairs the hallway looked almost identical to the stairs in the manner of their disarray, a set of yellow talons brushing over a set of gouged claw marks to reveal a scene. Laughing children, playing while what sounded to be their father scolded them lightly for running around inside the house. Such a cheerful vision soon faded, as the Dark Judge pulled away his hand and went further, this time into the master bedroom...

    It too had been shredded as if by some beast, disembodied whispers growing stronger in the demon's ears as their combined visions warped to the pulling of a strong disturbance of some sort. A stuffed bear apparently the source, Prixlezub could not help but notice aside from the generous splattering of blood upon it that the plaything had an equally crimson aura. The rest of the room and some tattered nightgowns took some attention away from it, but the prince paid little attention as his curiosity grew regarding the bear and its unusually negative aura. However, as the ghoul picked it up the room began to contort and groan before they were pulled into another time.

    A family peacefully eating breakfast, soon revealed to be that of the local fishermen. Ones that had fallen upon hard times, from the sound of it. Listening carefully, it was made clear that the fish had all died in the lake, although none of the those who regularly sought them out knew just yet. Soon after, talk of the church growing quiet, that the priests had not been seen or heard from for a long while, That is until...

    Ring! Ring! Ring!

    The unmistakeable song of church bells rang out across the town, a chill noticeable as the two fisherman looked back towards the stone building in confusion. What emerged from it was a stream of red, beings that appeared humanoid from a distance, but the prince knew better than the foolish assumptions the fishermen had decided upon. Until the mob descended upon the hapless villagers and tore them limb from limb.

    So, this was what became of the village. If the deformed, blood thirsty forces came from the church, likely that was where the demon made its home. There would be no other reason why they would suddenly emerge from such an odd locale. As for the priests? As the demon watched the ensuing massacre make its way to the home both he and the ghoul were observing, it was not hard to deduce that some may have been contorted into those twisted forms. Otherwise there were too many to simply assume that all of them had been turned. Regardless, the prince now had some idea of where the demon may have been lurking all this time, as when the scene finally faded to black with the child's final screams, a familiar voice whispered into the darkness accompanied by searing red eyes.

    It was the demon. It had taken notice of the ghoul's presence!

    Admittedly the prince had questions, but he knew better than to ask them here and now. There would be plenty of time for questions and analysis after this was done.
    avatar
    Fear
    Exabyte

    Exabyte

    Posts : 1263
    Join date : 2013-09-04
    Location : The comfort of a grave
    Level : 60

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    65/65  (65/65)
    Health Bar:
    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Fear on Sat Jul 26, 2014 4:36 am

    Yes... Yes, that's it, contractor. Lower your mental defenses and embrace.

    Illusions became truth, and the demon masquerading as a man could no longer rely on its well-mannered charade. Fire consumed the void, swollen to the point of overpowering, but soon an icy darkness rebelled against the inferno. As impressive as the one called Prixlezub taa Cr'err Grengrr appeared to be, the Dark Judge was also an eternal force; a sickly force that could not be destroyed by any current means. His blackened soul radiated itself as the perfect contrast to Prixlezub's blinding intensity, a single dark ember refusing to be consumed. And while the demon's language was harsh and powerful, indeed a tongue forged by war and might, Judge Fear was not an individual who could be persuaded by brute strength alone. Ghostly whispers reached out to playfully inspect this new awareness, and Prixlezub must be careful to not foolishly take their bait. Nevertheless, the Dark Judge was mindful of his boundaries - if only for the arrangements regarding their little business transaction.

    It was very good to note that the demon had not been lost during the first few seconds of their mental connection. It saw everything with perfect clarity, no detail having been forgotten on that day, and more was surely yet to come. From the moment Judge Fear had been assaulted by a flock of conjured ravens to the moment he was pitted against his three brothers, Prixlezub saw everything.

    Feel how convincing the Lochlann demon's suppression aura was, a suffocating feeling putting both observers on the verge collapse!

    Feel how terrifying the Lochlann demon's illusions were, each one as every convincing and real as the other.

    And feel, Prixlezub, the Lochlann demon's gaze, a foul intelligence beneath those smoldering coals.

    With ease the Dark Judge had been thrust into submission. Frail and too drained to be much use for anything, the ghoul could hardly defend himself against the Lochlann demon's relentless offensive. This was a familiar sensation, was it not? If it were not for a very persistent two-toned automobile and the ghoul's intrinsic ability to strike fear into the hearts of all with but one gaze, Bloodscream's hired helpers would have met their fates right then and there.

    Lochlann Demon wrote:Inferior avatar of terror! Champion of nothing! How dare you think to unleash my fears, the rightful Lord of Terror!? I am aware that you've been sent by the pale man known as Bloodscream. It had been an amusing game of will, but now I grow tired of such trivial entertainment. You will not leave this place virgin.

    To this very day the Dark Judge will remember that raspy, soft-spoken voice - the voice of Satan incarnate.

    Fire and shadow erupted within the town square, and a demon of monstrous proportions rose forth from the hellish display. Not quite as large as Prixlezub but equally fortified by a tough hide and spiny plating, the Lochlann demon was a mixture of both demonic muscle and feminine contours. It stomped and it roared, the very pavement and air wilting from such unnatural heat. A serpentine tail whipped itself around at dizzying speeds and the next thing they knew, both ghoul and contractor were sent flying through the air as if they were weightless ragdolls. It was not a pleasant landing, and was in fact the Dark Judge's second rough encounter with the cobblestone roads of Lochlann. Both driver and automobile wisely aborted Bloodscream's foolish and they promptly took their frustrations out upon the mercenary.

    This went more or less as expected: mantraps and chains went flying with wild abandon, while the vehicle effortlessly plowed through snowy terrain. Words were exchanged and an impasse was reached, along with thinly-veiled threats shot between parties. Bloodscream left and so ended the mental connection, the world fading into a murky black before Prixlezub's mind was quietly released.

    "That is all," hissed Judge Fear, ghostly eyes staring down at the contractor's illusion. "I have given you everything I had witnessed during that ill day."
    avatar
    Prixlezub
    Inactive Account

    Inactive Account

    Posts : 1203
    Join date : 2010-10-19
    Location : Kc'nsst taa As'traakk
    Level : 46

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    0/0  (0/0)
    Health Bar:
    510/510  (510/510)
    Stamina Bar:
    92/92  (92/92)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Prixlezub on Tue Jul 29, 2014 1:52 pm

    No matter what specters whispered within the prince's ears, their promises, curses, and threats were pressed aside as if batting away an annoying fly. The demon knew what thoughts were his own and which were merely planted and they would not fool him this day, not when their owner was so weak. From the inside he had both built and damned entire kingdoms, slaughtered nations to the point of extinction. His horned crown was decorated with the gems of conquest and painted in ceaseless tides of blood. It would take far more than a few meager whispers to sway his mindset from prince to a mere pawn.

    Although the ravens held the prince's interest as well. At a glance they appeared to be a mass of birds, but at the same time they obviously were not. Of course they were conjured by the residing demon within the village, there was no doubt about it. What they hid? Likely it could have been minions, for nothing did not push people with enough force to send them through solid window panes. Moving on the undead Judge had soon been faced with three of his brothers or at least what appeared to be so. But what was this?

    Fear's associate was not as unaware as one could assume, and held a name of its own. Good, good. It would only make their analysis of the gathered information all the more useful. The ghoul's former allies, along with what appeared to be a second vehicle capable of speech, arrived on the scene. All the while the demon felt nothing more than a crushing feeling, an offense against the mind that appeared to emanate from the four illusions themselves. Prixlezub's will flared and braced against the powerful suppression field, he recognized this presence, this feeling of frailty and weakness. It was the very same that had overtaken him while the infernal being had taken the guise of Electriligos. In place of billowing smoke was  the suppression field, but all the same there were hard, biting words that sliced the ghoul to his core.

    Only the vehicle did not seem completely perturbed by the demon's show, roughly shoving both Judge and spectator out of both harms way and surprisingly the demon's influence... But not before Judge Fear had decided to gain some payback. Claws came up to flip open the helm's visor, apparently revealing the demon's worst fears. However, whatever they were the prince was not privy to knowing, a sense of dread and a shadowy curtain preventing him from learning more. Horrifying enough to shatter the illusions, the one known as the Lord of Terror himself arose from the depths of the village to show its displeasure. In a way the prince could not help but wonder if the demon of Lochlann was speaking to Fear or speaking through him, through the rank of Judge and Mercenary all the way to him.

    After both vehicle and Judge had fled the scene, the rest was already known through Bloodscream's telling. They rightfully were enraged at what they were pitted against, and the mercenary inevitably failed to gain the information from them, even when asked if anything was wished of them before departing. The fool. If not for his immortality the demon would have cut him down the moment he was finished speaking. His orders were not something to be forgotten on a childish whim, and especially were not to be twisted for the sake of convenience. Not with such a grand threat as the demon in Lochlann.

    Upon their consciences splitting apart to their owners, the demon regained his barriers. Just as thick as they were prior, Judge Fear would have to muster quite the effort is he wished to return again. "And I thank you. Give your friend my regards and thanks, he deserves them as much as do you." He returned respectfully. With Fear's memory committed to his own, there was little else for them to discuss. Save for a few lingering questions that dwelt at the back of the prince's mind. "You have given me much insight, but also questions at the same time. The demon's illusions, they could have only been seen if one knew of your memories, correct? I must ask, had you noticed anything that hinted towards your mind being probed by this being?" The contractor inquired curiously. Shifting his weight onto one leg, he continued. "As well, there had been a skipping in the vision you had provided. One cannot help but wonder just what made the demon so frightened to the point of being enraged?" All the while, the contractor kept his steady gaze upon Judge Fear's ocular slits. The Dark Judge could not be read, but still the man could not help but wonder...
    avatar
    Fear
    Exabyte

    Exabyte

    Posts : 1263
    Join date : 2013-09-04
    Location : The comfort of a grave
    Level : 60

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    65/65  (65/65)
    Health Bar:
    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Fear on Wed Jul 30, 2014 7:46 am

    Questions? Still the contractor had questions?

    Of course he did, and the Dark Judge glanced away to stare at the darkened village. "I am unaccustomed to how the Lochlann demon operates, but one can wisely assume with little error that it relies on the memories of its victims, yes." How else would the demon have discovered the identities of Judge Fear's brothers? Although, now that he gave it further thought, it would seem that the demon was also capable of studying a machine's mind as well. Where had that second automobile come from, after all? And as for a hint to whether or not the demon's probing was felt... Regrettably, the ghoul had to shake his head.

    "No," was the answer. Judge Fear was extremely careful in keeping his tone neutral, thereby preventing the contractor to learn of his emotions or possible thoughts. "For whatever reason unbeknownst to me, the Lochlann demon was successful in overcoming my mental defenses. The suppression aura you felt is perhaps a likely suspect, yet there is no definitive indicator." Mildly worrisome.

    The Contractor wrote:"As well, there had been a skipping in the vision you had provided. One cannot help but wonder just what made the demon so frightened to the point of being enraged?"

    This was perhaps too personal a question, for the Dark Judge collected his fears with a tinge of pride. To tell an outsider, especially a demon, what he had witnessed in the depths of the Lochlann demon's souls was borderline sacrilege. Silence gripped Judge Fear during the interim, his gaze still fixated ahead.

    "To see its fears will drive you mad," the ghoul hissed. In this there was truth, mingled with both reluctance and motive. "I am an agent of fear, as is my namesake. In order to fully appreciate what I see, you will have to forfeit your life of sin and embrace the universal truth in death. I cannot bestow upon you its inner workings so long as you live." Which would require this demon, Prixlezub, to mentally connect with the Dark Judge fully. Such a bridge between two vastly different minds would prove... catastrophic, at the least. Naturally the contractor would not be appeased with this response, prompting Judge Fear to sweeten the pot in order for Prixlezub to leave him be. "I can tell you, however, that you are not facing a demon but several. This is perhaps why the Lochlann demon is immense powerful and infernally so. They are not of the Christian-Judeo sort, possibly from another dimension entirely."

    Was this a sufficient enough answer?
    avatar
    Prixlezub
    Inactive Account

    Inactive Account

    Posts : 1203
    Join date : 2010-10-19
    Location : Kc'nsst taa As'traakk
    Level : 46

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    0/0  (0/0)
    Health Bar:
    510/510  (510/510)
    Stamina Bar:
    92/92  (92/92)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Prixlezub on Wed Jul 30, 2014 1:16 pm

    The contractor's gaze remained upon the towering Judge while he answered. Fear seemed to agree that assuming the demon could read thoughts may not be so far from the truth, perhaps to some that would be relieving, but to the suit? It merely meant there were more questions that needed answering. Assumptions could only carry one so far before they fell through to reality, smashed and leaving one in shock of their own stupidity. Such a fate was not one this man wished to fall prey to, not when further research could be done, a picture in full detail of what they were up against.

    Alongside the answers given to him by the planet and Judge Fear's vision, it was only obvious they were only scratching the surface of what lurked in that forsaken village...

    To hear that Fear could not feel any probing sensations or alien presences within his mind was slightly puzzling. If it overcame the Dark Judge's mental defenses, how was it that there was no sign or sensation? Unless it could be that the coal-like eyes and whispering were its only warning. He had heard the demon's voice within his mind as well before it conjured a demon from ages past before him, but there were no burning eyes. Only smoke and a sharp cracking of stone as the village was upended in the locomotogephor's shadow. "Hm." There was much for the contractor to ponder once their deal had ended.

    For a long while the sands were deathly silent after his second request, the ghoul seeming almost far more still than he usually was in all his corpse-like glory. Likely thinking about whether or not to tell him, even though their agreement did entail the entirety of what the Dark Judge had seen in Lochlann. After a few long moments, the taller of the two spoke claiming that its fears would drive the contractor mad. While that would be something he would rather judge for himself, the ghoul continued. So, in order to carry this information, the man would have to literally take it to his grave.

    Not exactly much of a threat given the workings of this world and the current weakness of the undead Judge, but at the same time... Perhaps Fear meant something else, something deeper. The undead's philosophy had been read  through Bloodscream, the very same that the ghoul hinted at. At the same time however, the man never asked to see the fears in question, and there was a hint to the ghoul's voice that dictated he was hesitant for reasons other than the man's sanity. "A verbal description could not suffice?" the man reasoned evenly. "I understand you take pride in your work, and perhaps a creature like myself could not possibly comprehend what horrors could be shown. However, art can be appreciated in many mediums, visual aside. I need not see in order to understand, Judge Fear." Came his methodical reply. However, it appeared the ghoul was willing to part with some further information regarding the infernal beast despite his apprehension.

    So it was not one demon, but several. Surely this would need to be factored upon, and carefully. "I see." he replied thoughtfully, a hand raising to rest under his chin as he mulled all of this over. Where they came from was of no true concern to the contractor, the term of Christian-Judeo foreign upon his ears.
    avatar
    Fear
    Exabyte

    Exabyte

    Posts : 1263
    Join date : 2013-09-04
    Location : The comfort of a grave
    Level : 60

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    65/65  (65/65)
    Health Bar:
    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Fear on Wed Jul 30, 2014 2:57 pm


    The Contractor wrote:"A verbal description could not suffice?"

    Persistent, although the demon was going to be sorely disappointed.

    The Dark Judge glanced down and merely hissed, "Fear itself." Well? Prixlezub had asked for a verbal description and there was no other way to describe the emotional state of fear. Unless, of course, the contractor wished for a more literal interpretation? "Fear. A noun. A strong, uncontrollable, unpleasant emotion caused by actual or perceived danger or threat." Ah, but perhaps even this would not suffice, so the ghoul crossed his deathly-thin arms and gave it more thought. More serious thought. "What you ask to know cannot be known, nor can it be replicated by any means you may possess." How... ominous, and not immediately helpful. Nevertheless, the Dark Judge calmly added further, "But while you are currently incapable of mastering the element of fear, your inherent nature lacking its horrific sophistication, you are indeed... intelligent." Insofar as to what the ghoul had seen within the demon's mind.

    "You needn't ask me such a question, for you already know its answer. The Lochlann demon is afraid of fear itself; my gaze would otherwise have not worked." This made sense, no? Now, if the contractor wanted to know what the Lochlann demon had seen that made it so afraid... Well, that too had been answered. "Fear," the ghoul reiterated. He moved to pick up K.A.R.R.'s spoils and returned to the contractor's side, his gaze now facing east. "The Lochlann demon is afraid of fear."

    As am I, but this was wisely not stated aloud.

    However, the Dark Judge could only admire the irony of the situation for so long. "Do you have anything else you wish to ask, or has our business been satisfied? I would very much like to return to my colleague." And to be rid of this entire fiasco at last.
    avatar
    Prixlezub
    Inactive Account

    Inactive Account

    Posts : 1203
    Join date : 2010-10-19
    Location : Kc'nsst taa As'traakk
    Level : 46

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    0/0  (0/0)
    Health Bar:
    510/510  (510/510)
    Stamina Bar:
    92/92  (92/92)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Prixlezub on Wed Jul 30, 2014 3:37 pm

    The contractor did not waver at Fear's glance, although he found his answer to be rather uncanny. So the Lord of Terror feared nothing but fear itself...It certainly made sense given its title, there was very little for it to feel trepidation over when it could conjure everyone else's so effortlessly. At the ghoul's further definition of the word, however, the suited man's thoughtful expression turned into an unamused scowl. "I am well aware of its definition," He rumbled tolerably, the contractor's even tones giving way to something that shook the very sand that surrounded them before quieting down. "While you are still bound to the terms of our agreement, one would think that an intelligent being such as yourself would think to show a little less belligerence." He replied, the stone in his grasp thumbed over as his hand returned from his chin to his pocket. Remember, Fear, the less concise you were with this man the longer you would be held from your associate.

    "However, I agree that you are correct in that its trepidations cannot be replicated by myself your answer is still enlightening." The man concluded, watching as Judge fear went to collect the trunk of credits that sat in the sand. "To think that I already knew the answer would only be half right." Certainly he may have began to ponder such a possibility after viewing the ghoul's memory, but as it had been stated before; facts were far more useful than assumptions. Of course, if the Lochlann demon used fears and thus was afraid of Fear itself, it was not too far fetched to ponder if the ghoul shared something similar alongside his fears of abandonment and being replaced.

    As the ghoul turned and asked if the contractor had anything else he wished to know of, the man gave a small nod. "Yes, actually, but just one more question." He rumbled. It was a simple one, no need to fret. "You had stated there were several demons. I want to know exactly how many you managed to detect. Answer this and you are free to go." The contractor stated, taking a step forward towards the ghoul.

    Answering with a wise-ass remark would not count.
    avatar
    Fear
    Exabyte

    Exabyte

    Posts : 1263
    Join date : 2013-09-04
    Location : The comfort of a grave
    Level : 60

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    65/65  (65/65)
    Health Bar:
    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Fear on Wed Jul 30, 2014 4:15 pm

    Ooh, did he detect a rising tinge of displeasure in the contractor's voice?

    Judge Fear entertained a little half-bow at the waist, the Dark Judge spreading out his cape in a courteous manner. "But of course, sir, but of course," he hissed smoothly, looking the contractor dead in the eyes. "We undead can be quite abrasive, have nothing to fear in both life and death. Truly we are cursed." Bound to the terms of the agreement as if he were some devil... The Dark Judge inwardly laughed at such an outlandish notion. Him? Bound? Ugh, as if the ghoul would be foolish enough to be tethered to anything that wasn't the law. Then again, there was that concealed soulgem Prixlezub had on his person... Yes, can't forget about that lovely device.

    "Half-right but still right nonetheless," he answered, no longer exhibiting theatrics. Although time had no meaning in the grave, Judge Fear thought to give the demon a bit of friendly advice. "Facts, assumptions, half-truths and half-rights; ponder too long, prince, and you will miss your precious opportunities. After all, the creatures here do not witness the rise and collapse of empires all in the same breath."

    Sometimes one could not wait for all the facts in a case, therefore having to rely on their intuition when the circumstances called for it. A somewhat hard thing to do, when one was more accustomed to leisurely watching the centuries roll on by in the blink of an eye.

    Now, what is this about asking yet another question?

    If Judge Fear could sigh, he surely would have. Fortunately he could not, however, and the ghoul faithfully replied. Might as well, for Prixlezub could be a tenacious soul. "As with the deadly sins, seven. This is no mere coincidence, although I fail to see how the element of fear itself is a sin. Perhaps the relationship between number and demon are more... how did you put it, artistic? Yes, artistic. A different medium for essentially the same agenda: mischief." That's all it was, really. A hellish infatuation with forcing individuals, or entire civilizations, to be in a spot of bother. It was all very, very labyrinthine and just... well, needless! Just kill the mortals and be done with it. In any event, Judge Fear was officially ready to wash his hands of this entire ordeal. Let Prixlezub and his hired flunkies sort it all out; the Lochlann demon wanted them, besides. The question answered and now free to depart, the Dark Judge gave his prim-and-proper contact a brazen salute. Should he have been Judge Death, the ghoul's smile would have been splitting his leathery face from ear to grinning ear.

    "Farewell," Judge Fear rasped, already shambling away. Credits softly jingled from within the obsidian trunk. "I wish you all the luck in apprehending the Lochlann demon, contractor. All the luck, yes. You will surely be needing it when the insolent thing grows tired of its tortured playthings down at the village." And when that happens, not if, the Dark Judge was hopefully going to be continents away.

    You have his word on it.
    avatar
    Prixlezub
    Inactive Account

    Inactive Account

    Posts : 1203
    Join date : 2010-10-19
    Location : Kc'nsst taa As'traakk
    Level : 46

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    0/0  (0/0)
    Health Bar:
    510/510  (510/510)
    Stamina Bar:
    92/92  (92/92)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Prixlezub on Wed Jul 30, 2014 5:53 pm

    From snark to smoothness, this undead was certainly working hard to try and cut this talk short. Nothing but a stern stare met Judge Fear's theatrics, the contractor giving an unimpressed hum. "Indeed." He returned flatly. The undead Judge may boast of fearing nothing, but even the most confident have something that lingers in their shadow, nightmarish thoughts, phobias that penetrate to ones very core. Merely because one was freed from the necessities of life did not mean their vices fully left with it.

    Like the fact just a few moments ago the contractor had purged thousands in the blink of an eye.

    However, the ghoul's advice was not unwelcome. Even with his vast age, the man was not one to shun help. Especially if it proved beneficial. At this the man's stern expression remained, although the demon pondered Judge Fear's words now that his theatrics had been laid to rest for the time being. "You are correct." He admitted evenly, "This land goes through periods of near destruction as if they were the seasons themselves, even the citizens seem to last only for a blink before they disappear. As one of its witnesses I am well aware." Perhaps it was high time he stepped up his plans, although the man knew perfectly well that the only reason why many of the other villains here worked with such little effort was that they had their sources, their ley-lines of power. Yes, he too had his share, but they have since retired or left. Many of which would not risk a single toe for the sake of getting the upper hand on this infernal beast that plagued the fishing village.

    Back to the conversation at hand, the Judge soon revealed how many they had been dealing with all this time. Seven? Much like the various sins, while the world he had once overlooked held not any beliefs like that of Christianity, they all held some kind of vice to a venomous esteem. The demon had already fallen prey to one of them after his encounter with the village, and Judge Fear had witnessed the one known as, well, fear... All for the sake of mischief.

    For all the demon's power, its motives were incredibly childish. Alas, as with all things here, it was a demon of a different dimension. Either it fed off the mischief it produced, or perhaps it simply reveled in it. An ambition that stupefied any who were searching for a logical goal. "Thank you." He rumbled. Although that salute could have been left as nothing more than a thought. Of course, the ghoul gave his farewell along with luck in apprehending the demon in question. "Farewell, Judge Fear. May your journey home be swift."

    And that would be a promise. For as both were relieved of their agreement, there was one more thing left to do. The ghoul's theatrics, his wise cracking and cryptic statements? All were repaid with a mighty;

    SWACK!

    Something hard and metallic suddenly came into contact with the ghoul's rear like a rocket. At one moment he would be plastered to it like a fly to a swatter, and the next he was whistling through the cool night air, a good hundred feet above the ground that blurred into a wash of diluted shadows. Just like the majestic undead eagle of justice that he was!

    He would be fine, the contractor knew it. With his information gathered and the Judge sent on his way, the man strode off into the night, his form gradually blurring out until he too disappeared into the darkness.
    avatar
    Diablo
    Gigabyte

    Gigabyte

    Posts : 144
    Join date : 2012-05-28
    Location : Burning Hells
    Level : 60

    Character Sheet
    Defense Bar:
    65/65  (65/65)
    Health Bar:
    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Diablo on Thu Jul 31, 2014 6:37 am

    SWACK!
    And so marked the end of a trying partnership...
    But it wondered, creatures, if you truly thought yourselves as infallible as your schemes?

    As the devil and undead parted ways, one with grace and the other with a thrilling sendoff, they were not the only curious oddity skulking beneath a swollen full moon. Lazily perched upon a mature saguaro cactus was not a majestic undead eagle but a raven. Silky-black feathers caught the moon's pale glow just right, shrouding the large bird in an otherworldly bloom. What was it doing out here, one may wonder? Were ravens a common sight in a barren desert, especially at night? All these questions and no forthcoming answers... For the best, one could suppose, as this bird was anything but ordinary.

    After a few anxious hops and a sharp twist of its head, the raven's feathery breast rose and fell. Enough had been observed on this night to warrant consideration, and it no longer was needed here. It leaped off the succulent and took to the skies, ebony wings carrying upon them motive.

    The master will be most interested in what had transpired on this secretive eve.

    Sponsored content

    Re: Never Really liked Pancakes

    Post by Sponsored content


      Current date/time is Fri Apr 20, 2018 11:11 am