Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard.
Where anything goes.
-//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7
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Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard. Where anything goes. -//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7 |
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Saturday, February 21, 2004 (Post deleted. Thanks a lot, internet connection.) - The Wayward, Part VI - "Okay, first things first," explained the shirted and trousered adventurer as he demonstrated with the aid of his fingers, "We need to get this metal door open, and then you have to tell me about this pet ... er ... monster friend of yours." "I thought you said you weren't interested in it?" I hummed coyly, giving my companion in the corner a quick glance. It wasn't exactly the most adorable thing in the world, but I'm always inclined to be nice to anything that listens to me. "You should be glad that it doesn't ... I mean, it doesn't look like it has feelings." "No, no, no," insisted the over-friendly explorer as he waved his hands in denial, "I'm always interested in strange creatures. I encounter and defeat all kinds of fearsome beasts on my travels!" "Oh, do tell," I remarked, obviously not too impressed by his overblown boasting, "I'm interested to know about them, as well." "Oh, dear, it wouldn't be a good idea to tell you," he cautioned in an obvious attempt to put me off, "As I said, I don't want to be responsible for anything that happens to you, including you having all manner of horrible nightmares after I tell you a few of my stories!" "I've slept too soundly these past few days," I commented rather sardonically, knowing that the last time I slept well I had mysteriously appeared in another world, "I need something terrifying to spice up my life. Talk away." "Uh ... well ..." he dawdled as he put a hand to his chin and murmured something silly, "That isn't the best way to use up our time here, standing around and telling stories! I want to get to the nearest town before afternoon so I can have some lunch, a good idea, wouldn't you say?" "Well, yes," I sighed as I smacked my palm over my eyes in an attempt to hide my obvious disappointment with mister Prince Charming. And whose idea was it to tell stories, anyway? "You were asking me to tell you about my friend here." "Ah, yes, indeed, absolutely!" he laughed to no one in particular as he forcefully threw himself back on track, "So, tell me about ... does he have a name?" "Um ... I never thought about it, since it only just started following me ..." I pondered, before I quickly spotted a dissimilarity between my thoughts and his, "And why should ... well ... it be a he?" "Well, for starters, I wouldn't have myself frightened by a girl, would I?" Io Aoi, male supremacist, exclaimed in his superior fashion. I found it incredibly surprising that one like him who sets out to make himself utterly annoying to everyone of the opposite sex should actually be interested in having one of them as a life partner. "No ..." I murmured at a volume deliberately loud enough to be audible by him, "But, the monster did scare the daylights out of you, and I happen to be responsible for the monster, and I happen to be a girl, so ..." "Uh, well, yeah, I guess the gender of monsters is none of my business, of course!" he quickly amended his viewpoint, picking up the hint that I was thrusting in his face, "But you claim the monster came from here ... what makes you think that?" "Isn't it obvious?" I asserted, stating several facts that were crystal clear to me but perhaps a little too difficult for him to fathom, "I told you, the monster led me here from the farm all the way up the road, like some kind of homing pigeon. And after it got here, it started listening to me, almost as if there was some significance attached to this place. Finally ... haven't you been looking? The creature is wearing a laboratory coat which, if you were paying attention, looks exactly like some of those burnt ones lying around the place! That's why I think the monster came from this building!" "Oh, right ..." he muttered as he quickly acknowledged the facts, "Typical of you girls to act so assertive and dominating when you have the knowledge on your side." "What do you mean, assertive and dominating?" I growled, almost feeling like tackling him when I realised that all his riling had driven me to a level of aggression somewhat higher than my usual, so maybe he had a point. Maybe. "Anyway," I added in a slightly more subdued tone, "I suggest you cut out all that nonsense about the differences between guys and girls, because it is driving me to irritation." "Differences exist to be recognised, don't you think?" he remarked philosophically in a tone annoying enough to set a blood vessel bulging in my forehead, "And what better way of recognising the differences than comparing them?" "Okay, whatever, shut up," I sighed as I strode over to the entrance of the metal room, "Let's focus on getting the job done, all right? We were thinking of a way to get this door open ..." ( - Page Break - Ed.) "Yes!" he exclaimed, pointing to the air in that stereotypical great discovery pose, "And you said you had an idea how to do that, Miss Smart?" "It's Charlotte, thank you very much," I groaned as I put my hands in my pockets in a valiant attempt to avoid bunching them into fists and knocking the lights out of Io Aoi, "And I said I was thinking of a way to open the door, not that I already knew how to open it! Why don't you try something, Mister Brave Adventurer?" Heh. And indeed he did, without paying the slightest attention to the snide remark I attempted to pass him. He tried the doorknob again several times, before trying to smash it down by throwing, in that order, his shoulder, his foot, and himself at it, to lots and lots of pain and yelling but to no avail whatsoever. Undaunted, he rounded the corner to examine the chamber of shattered glass separating the room from the outside, which I had looked through earlier, and contemplated ways of smashing down the shattered glass without getting severely lacerated in the process. Quite a pity that he did not actually try out any of them. As for me, thinking of various ways and means of getting the door open, my index finger invariably wormed its way about the inside of my pocket, until it came across the ring I had found earlier, and instinctively slipped itself in. The ring being quite a bit bigger than my size, it slid all the way down my finger until it came to my knuckle, where it lodged itself comfortably, a perfect fit. Failing to come up with any suitable plans that might help us in the achievement of our goal, in an inadvertent bout of suppressed vanity uncovered by my inability to do anything more useful I lifted my hand out of my pocket to inspect and admire the delightful little ring on my own finger. I raised it to my eyes, expecting to see the intricate little gem glittering prettily over my unadorned finger, only to see a solid straight band of metal, with not a jewel in sight. Opening my hand in surprise, I was startled to see the diamond gleaming back at me, from the opposite side of the ring! Pretty, yes, but in an absurd position. Yet, strangely enough, the ring seemed a perfect fit, as if it was meant to be worn in that position. Hmm ... perhaps ... just maybe. An inert click resounded across the blasted landscape as the doorknob turned easily in my hand, and with the slightest push, swung open effortlessly. "I see you managed to do it!" cried a rather amazed explorer as he rounded the corner again, and appeared from the side opposite to the one he had been investigating, "You've my heartiest congratulations. You're well on your way to becoming a fantastic explorer like myself!" "Mmm ... whatever ..." I responded in a tone as neutral as possible, hoping to avoid provoking further jibes from him. I would have been much less offended if only he had inserted a pause before those last two words. What I most disliked about him, it seems, was the fact that despite not knowing me for any more than several minutes (and trying to kill me before that, at that), he seemed to be treating me as his assistant, or his sidekick, or his call girl, as the case may be. The scariest thing was that such an attitude seemed to come naturally to him, as if he treated everyone (or every girl, at least) in that way and found absolutely nothing wrong with it. "Why don't you step in and get what you want? I'll be waiting out here so I don't get in your way, or stumble across any confidential, top secret stuff." "Oh, no! You must come in!" he insisted, sounding genuinely invitational and in the process making me feel all the more alarmed, "After all, having managed to open the door, you do deserve that much, at the very least. Furthermore, I do need your help in bringing out any stuff that I need, and as long as you're 'cooperative' with the constables back at the palace, you shouldn't have any problems about it. Why don't you?" I was originally inclined to disagree, but perhaps the enthusiastic desire for exploration and conquest which circled like an aura about him made it too much for me to resist. Or perhaps it was because I recalled, as he spoke, that unusual portrait of someone not too much unlike myself, resting on the table. Maybe it was just a mirror ... or worse, just a product of my pervasive self-doubt. But answers would not produce themselves if I simply stood there and waited expectantly. "Well ... I guess I will, thank you ..." I murmured as I ducked under his arm, while he held the door open like a proper gentleman, "Maybe I do want to look around." As I put my best foot forward, however, I thought I had found the reason why he allowed me to step in first. A stale, pungent odour filled my every sense as I gasped for air, unknowing if it was poison or some deadly toxin. But after taking a few breaths with reasonable ease, I realised that the mystery gas did smell somewhat similar to the air which hovered over the ruins I had entered, only stronger. So perhaps it was simply the accumulation of the gas in the sealed room, and not a trap or a ploy of any sort. While I held my nose in an attempt to block out the smell, Io Aoi stepped in, and the gas had an immediate effect on him as he wrinkled up his nose in disgust. And while he looked to be in desperate need of fresh air, he tried his best not to gag and gasp as I did in an obvious attempt to retain his composure. Opening the locked door had allowed for air to sweep through the small room, and while the light breeze swiftly purged the room of the noxious fumes it also set the papers scattered about the floor dancing. Picking up one that caught itself against my boot, I examined it to see that the writing was notes of some kind, but in a language totally beyond my experience, let alone my comprehension, almost as illegible as it had been when I gazed in through the glass of the shattered chamber. As I surveyed the room from the inside, I noticed that Io Aoi's eyes were focussed on a small wooden clock sitting at the side of the table, its hands seeming to point to a time just shy of ten and a half hours, one which didn't seem too distant judging from the weather conditions outside. "It seems accurate," I commented as I noticed how he continued to squint at it, out of the corner of his eye. "Huh? What are you talking about?" he exclaimed abruptly, staring at me with mouth agape, "For starters, the clock's stopped. Should a teenage girl like you be able to tell the time by now?" "I ... well ... never mind," I struggled to explain myself but decided it was better to prevent an argument. Seeing as to how I could not understand the written language and numbers of this strange new world, perhaps it was all too logical that their clocks were read in a different way as well. Avoiding further conversation, I averted my eyes, only to set them upon the wooden picture frame sitting pleasantly at the corner of the table, just atop a small book. As I gazed into it, observing every feature of the unblemished face of the girl within, she seemed to be examining me in return, as her warm, bright eyes gazed back into mine. ( - Page Break - Ed. ) "Help me here, would you?" Io Aoi murmured as he brushed past me in a rather brusque fashion and proceeded to pick up every last scrap of paper on the floor of the room, taking care to avoid the lacerating shards of glass scattered about together with them, "I know it's interesting ... but I've, well, we've a job to do here." "I suppose, jokes aside, you pretty much try your best to keep on task," I remarked, a smile creeping into my lips as I continued to gaze at the portrait, ignoring both his words and the rather intrusive way he brushed about my skirt as he retrieved the papers. Fetching them all, none of them being burnt, torn or otherwise damaged in any way, he proceeded to stack them together with the papers on the table. Looking very much like an office secretary, he completed the pile, and then placed the whole lot on the stack of files already arranged for easy transportation. Seeing as to how I hadn't seen a surviving scrap of paper outside the metal room, among the ruins of the destroyed laboratory, I guess he was right to assume every bit that did survive was very important indeed. Just as he examined the drawers of the table and the cabinet at the corner of the ceiling, it occured to me to ask him a question that had been irking me ever since I set eyes upon that mysterious portrait. "Um ... excuse me ..." I stammered as, with great effort, I finally pulled my eyes away from those of the other girl to draw his attention, "Can I ask you a question?" "Sure, girlie, anything ..." he replied absentmindedly as he inspected the drawers thoroughly, to find that they were used for the storage of not documents but supplies of all sorts like stationery and medicine, "If you'd help me with this big pile of heavy stuff instead of just standing there." "Right, I will ..." I muttered, observing how my politeness had met with that appalling casual reply yet again, but deciding nto to kick up a fuss about it, "But tell me ... do you know who the girl in that portrait is?" "What? A girl?" With all the surprise of a playboy who had been caught unaware, too late to work his charms, he glanced about frantically until he realised how blindingly obvious the little picture frame was, sitting right before his eyes, "Oh ... I thought that was ... hey, isn't that ..." "Isn't that who?" I demanded, anxiety having filled my every bone and muscle. I clenched my fists out of anticipation, lest I lose control of myself and tried to squeeze the answers out of him with my bare hands, "She looks ... just like ..." "That's her Highness, royal Princess Uaeouue! What's a portrait of a lovely girl like her doing here?" he yelped, nearly shutting the drawers on his own fingers in surprise, "This picture seems to be of a very high quality, as if ... as if its owner treasured it so much as to spend a fortune to turn it out as perfect as possible. You can almost see ... the seductive contours of ..." "Uh ... I see ..." I sighed as the man before me slipped into a dreamlike state as he reenacted some obscene fantasy in his head. A princess? Hmm ... but I thought it was ... "Although I must admit, I thought it was ..." "Oh!" he started up as he snapped out of his trance, "That she looks like you? Well, maybe, a little, I guess ..." He held his fingers up to form a box shape, just like a picture frame, and proceeded to survey my timorous features through it. And I cringed to imagine that he had some kind of new fantasy in his head already. "Er ... yeah ... okay ... that's enough ..." I gibbered uneasily, as he finally put down his fingers. "You do look a little like her ..." he pondered, before laughing crudely, "But she's much more sexy, I must say! Haha!" Uh, right, thanks a lot. I feel so much better now that I understand just why that person isn't me. "Okay, but by the way," I added as he turned away and, with the strength of his brawny arms, proceeded to hoist the entire stack of files with loose sheets of paper atop it, "Do you think this is ... something important?" "That?" he remarked as he squeezed past me, struggling to keep the pile atop from falling, "It's probably just a pretty picture to brighten up the day of whoever used to work here. You can take it if you want, though I don't see the point, since you're a girl ... unless ..." A mock gasp of horror resounded from behind the moving stack of files. "Shut up, before I kick you in the rear and send you falling," I retorted, as I bent to get out of the way of the tottering tower. Well, obviously I wasn't romatically interested in her, but seeing as to how similar she looked, maybe there was more to it than meets the eye. The table had been stripped clean of its contents, the only remaining items being the broken clock, a few loose pieces of stationery, several pieces of broken glass, and of course the portrait itself. Seeing as to how there was no harm about it, I carefully lifted the picture frame by its base, and neatly folded it so it rested as a large rectangle over the palm of my hand. That face ... it certainly wasn't romance of any sort, but that was something enchanting about the way she looked. Something mystifying. Maybe, as I tore my eyes away from her alluring gaze, something insidious. And then I caught sight of the small leather-bound book lying on the table, just beneath the picture frame. Slightly smaller than a sheet of writing paper, strange indecipherable runes were scribbled over the surface of its tanned cover. Runes not dissimilar to those I found written all over those scraps of paper that had been blowing about the floor of the room. The words meant something, and the only question was what that something was. "Charlotte, are you coming?" Io Aoi called from outside, standing in front of the door as if he was holding it open while carrying the heavy stack of paperwork, the 'monster friend' of mine still standing motionlessly behind him. All my praise goes to him for finally realising that I actually do have a name other than 'girlie' or 'kid'. "I don't want to have to rescue you if you get yourself locked in there! Not while carrying this stuff, at least ..." "I'll be right there!" I called as, without giving a second thought, I snatched up the unnoticed book and, with the portrait and it cradled in my arms, I darted out of the metal room and into the open air. - Your adventure nearly ended here, and you're damn well lucky it didn't! - Um, that was not supposed to be funny. I actually found the nerve to continue it after 24 hours ... after squashing up and squeezing out as much of my anger and hatred as I could after having to rewrite that whole insert ... posted by Charlotte | 3:54 pm (0) comments Friday, February 20, 2004 I know this comes a bit early, seeing as to how I haven't written the stuff before (since above and below don't make sense) this, but I just thought that I should post it now, since it's in my head. Here, in my opinion, is a picture of the person whom I consider to be the absolute best-dressed character in all things Final Fantasy ... the not-so-humble Time Mage from Final Fantasy Tactics! Yay! 
Available from any good FFT site with image downloads. Image edited to remove an ugly-looking border. Of course, I'm referring to the girl here, if that wasn't already obvious. For starters, that is the best-looking dress, in my opinion, of any character in any FF, no puffy shoulders to get in the way and no stupid corsets to enhance what isn't exactly important in the field of battle at the expense of your mobility. The only excesses in this splendid dress are the laces, which are so intricate the weaver (or the machine, whatever) must have spent ages on them. The cap is a nice touch too, although it does provide an easy target for enemy ranged attackers to aim at. Well. It doesn't look the best thing for running around in but for raising your arms to drop some nasty spells on your enemy, nothing can look better. I want one ... *whimper*.
 Time Mage. Required jobs : Wizard Level 2. "Land of lives, suppress all rebels! Don't move!" The guy is wearing something similar but I think I prefer the lace to those pagan stars around the sleeves and the hem. The small mantle is a nice touch too, although it would be nicer with a bow than a buckle on it. And he seems to be wearing a balaclava that hides his hair, so he looks more airy-headed ... possibly even like a knight in chainmail who just put on a robe and a cap on his head. But the time mages are the best looking characters in FFT, in my opinion.
(0) comments Thursday, February 19, 2004 Grr ... ARGH! God damn it! My post got deleted, after I just spent an hour and more on it. It's up to you whether to believe me or not, but I'm pushing this to the next one. It is going to take me a day to summon myself to rewrite whatever I've just written that just got washed into the great nothingness of cyberspace. And let me have you know that rewriting is NOT one of my favourite hobbies, seeing as to how it is exactly that which put me off continuing my real novel for half a year! Bloody hell! posted by Charlotte | 3:51 pm (0) comments Wednesday, February 18, 2004 - A Way with Words, Part VI - "Let go of me this instant!" roared the slick-sounding and unmistakeably foreign loud-mouthed stranger, dressed in an absurd mishmash of white, red and green, as he was dragged helplessly by two armour-encased guards into the town square, "Release me, snivelling underdogs! Rats, filthy rats! Vermin ... worse than vermin!" "You can understand what he's saying?" questioned Aei, staring in wonderment as she held the item in her hand, "I can't hear a thing. It sounds like ... all garbled, and stuff. You're sure about this?" "I assure you, every word is crystal clear!" I insisted as I strained my ears through my sheltering hair, to hear the tormented whinings of a criminal otherwise best left ignored, "I can hear him perfectly!" It was as if he was speaking in another language, one that I was fluent with and able to understand immediately, except this foreign language was one that sounded and meant exactly the same as my own. "So what is he saying?" she asked, giving me a curious stare, "Since you can understand him, maybe you can tell me what he's yelling about." "Well, probably the same thing you'd expect from anyone in a similar situation," I replied, still watching eagerly as the foreigner writhed while each of his arms was held in an elbow lock by a guard, "He claims to be some kind of noble from a foreign land, he's telling them to let go of him, and he's making stupid obscene threats at the same time." "What kind of obscene threats?" Aei repeated, squinting at me with suspicious little eyes, "Could you, like, repeat them for me? If they're not too obscene, that is." "You dirty great frolicking troll!" he cried as he wrangled furiously in the guards' iron grasp, "I shall eviscerate you with sharp and rusty iron knives!" Oh, just my luck that he had to start on some incredibly lame insult at the precise moment when I was asked to translate him. "He said ..." I paused, as I constricted my gullet to force the same long-winded and meaningless curses out of my own throat, "Oh, you dirty, great and frolicking troll. I'm going to eviscerate you with really sharp and rusty iron knives." "Really? Uh ..." Aei gazed at me, mouth agape as I glanced down in pain to hide my shameful eyes, "I don't know how much I can believe you ... but that has to be the most pathetic insult and threat I have ever heard in my life!" Come to think of it, she did have a point, apart from that about the lousy insults, as since she couldn't understand a word the foreigner said, I could in theory translate his speech in any way I wanted, possibly even making him out to be the most eloquent person that I could fathom. However, while it cut me to the bone to be forced to repeat each meaningless word he uttered, it wasn't the duty of a translator to misrepresent others, and deception wouldn't be the best thing in the process of endearing myself to others and thus gaining assistance in finding my way home. Well, yeah, she wouldn't find out the truth until it was too late, but isn't that what all criminals think before they embark on their misdemeanours? No, I shan't distort his words, lame and spineless as they were. "You prancing poltroons! You mindless mannequins! You subservient little serfs! Release me this moment, for I am noble beyond a social caste you shall ever attain!" railed the emaciated victim as one of the guards, evidently not understand a word he said but correctly deducing it to be utter nonsense, bopped him on his head with an iron fist in a futile attempt to silence him. "Hey, tell me, Charlotte!" begged Aei earnestly as she tugged at my sleeve with her free hand, "Tell me! What did he say this time?" "Grr ... I won't!" Yes, while I had an obligation to tell the truth, I wasn't obliged to speak in the first place. "Just think of all the lamest insults you possibly can, and imagine them gushing out of his mouth like a waterfall, and you've got it!" "Er ... I think I can imagine that," pondered Aei as she closed her eyes and concentrated for a little moment, the contents of her thoughts easily perceived by the disgusted grimace spreading across her little lips. "Um, forget I said that," I quickly countered as I placed a cautioning hand on her shoulder. It wasn't exactly the best way to bring up children, making them imagine the most mediocre and pathetic things that they could. "Just, well, understand that he isn't talking sense. That's all." "Uh, you're right, I don't want to think about it," breathed Aei as she opened her painfully clenched eyes to return her gaze to the real world, and the ridiculously-dressed nincompoop struggling and screaming before her, "But you said that he said that he was some kind of noble ... what did he mean by that?" "Well ... that's what he said, and I don't know how much of him to take at face value," I considered, a crowd having already gathered around to see just what all the ruckus was about in the town square. To the bystander, it was obvious that some trash-talking foreigner had just been arrested, the crime likely to be that of simply being the wrong person in the wrong place, and the guards were in the midst of interrogating him, to no avail. "Name," intoned the left guard, as he raised a threatening fist at the wrangling prisoner, "Tell the truth. Any lies will only be a further crime to be put against you." "I know not what you just said to me," yelled the thrashing victim as he struggled furiously but futilely, "But if that was an insult ... well ... same to you!" "Speak!" demanded the right guard, as he dealt a fist in a language everyone understood, "Cease your babbling and talk sense, or your villainy is obvious!" "If you think violence can force anything out of me," retorted the stranger as he struggled to understand the order, "You shall never succeed! Injustice will never prevail!" "What's he yelling?" asked a rather large and burly man standing behind me, who had become aware of my unusual ability to translate the foreigner's speech, "Is he saying something stupid again?" "Well, anything he says is stupid," I replied helpfully, seeing as to how there wasn't anything really lost from just acting naturally, "Right now he's shouting some nonsense about justice and stuff." "I shall have you know ... ugh ..." groaned the foreigner as one of the guards kneed him painfully ... while wearing a set of plate leggings, "... that I am the most honourable and respected Pwyns Xjrmynq, descendant of the royal house of Consonance and the heir to the throne, and I will not tolerate such brutal treatment by ... ouch ... thugs like yourself who seek to divert me from my mission!" "What did he say?" inquired a young lady as she nudged me rather eagerly in the ribs, "It sounded long! Did he say anything important?" "Um, he said that he that was on a mission, and that he was the ... uh ... Prince, of Consonance or something like that," I murmured, before quickly being interrupted by the lady again. "From Consonance? Oh ... that's terrible ... horrible ..." she sighed as she lifted her hand to her cheek in dismay. Terrible? Horrible? Don't you mean the way he was getting beaten up like that simply because he couldn't be understood? Sure, he talked nonsense, but maybe if the guards actually responded to him in a fashion he anticipated they might actually find it to simply be a honest misunderstanding or something like that ... "Consonance ... Consonance ..." the word seemed to reverberate between the crowd, several tens strong, that had gathered to watch the scene. Among the adjectives that followed the word were those the lady used, terrible, horrible, and of the verbs only one really circulated. "Kill him!" roared a man standing on the fringes of the crowd, "He's an enemy of the people! Execute him!" "Yeah!" cried the lady beside me who had suddenly found the vocal strength of one several times her size, "Kill the bastard! All they want is to invade and destroy us! We must punish them all!" "Kill him!" demanded a drunk-looking man, hoisting a bottle of liquor, as he repeated the same phrase over and over, "Kill him! Kill him!" "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" The cry gradually gained strength until it seemed that just about the whole horde of people, gathering behind me, were chanting it in an almost religious fashion. Hungry for vengeance and for blood, it was now that I understood why large groups of people, even when they are of all shapes and sizes, could be so dangerous. "Er ... Charlotte ..." Little Aei, who had got rather lost in the thick crowd of people behind me, finally found me again as she tugged my sleeve. And it was only then that I realised that she had got somewhat missing. "You see what I mean, when I told you not to even mention that name?" "What's it to them?" I whispered, in murmurs conveying myself over the ritualistic chanting of the crowd, "You're going to kill someone just because they're from another country?" "Well," she replied thoughtfully, surprisingly able to keep her head clear despite being amongst the single-minded crowd, "My dad used to tell me all those war stories ... you know about how this town is right on the border, don't you? I haven't lived through a war itself, but some of these people are actually veterans of war, though they don't look it." "I see ..." So that explains why she didn't share that same bigoted hatred the people had for the enemies from the other country. Turning my attention back to the prisoner and his guards, I could see the two guards reacting rather bemusedly to the chants of the crowd, almost as if it was one planted to egg them on to do the deed. I would probably even say that under their helmets, they must have been smiling at the encouragement they received from their fellow villagers. The victim, Pwyns Xjrmynq, although not comprehending exactly what the townsfolk were chanting, probably understood the gist of what they meant, and his expression had transformed from one of defiant resolution to that of horror and alarm. "Hey Aei," I called as I turned back to the ever-smiling child and was relieved to see her still gazing expectantly in my direction, a pleasant look rather than a bloodthirsty one on her face, "Are they really going to execute him? He says he's a prince, you know." "A ... a what?" Aei attempted to clarify in a somewhat louder tone, possibly not having heard me due to the growing amplitude of the crowd, or maybe not sure if she should believe what I just said, "You said he was ...?" "A prince, a prince," I repeated, trying to make myself clear, but becoming increasingly antagonised by the roars of the crowd baying for blood over the top of my head, "You know, the son of a King and a Queen? The one who becomes the next King?" "A prince ... the son of a king?" she stammered, unsure as to what to say next, before blurting it out, "Yeah, he dresses funny, but ... he doesn't look like one, does he?" "How do you even know what a prince ought to look like?" I tossed a rhetorical question, in a desperate attempt to make myself clear. Was the latent sense of humanity in me playing up again? Of course he didn't look like a prince ... not when he just had the stuffing beaten up of him by two armed and armoured guards. "But he certainly sounded like one. I tell you, he's a prince." "A prince you say, lass?" questioned a bearded old man next to me, who had temporarily pulled himself away from the chanting to eavesdrop on me, "You're being mighty kind, helping us good folks of this town. Hey, the lass says that he's a prince!" the man exclaimed as he cried out to no one in particular. "A prince?" remarked a tough, middle-aged lady standing not too far away from him, "All the better, I say!" And before I could intervene, the chants of "Kill him!" had all too quickly transformed into "Kill the Prince!". I compared this town to one in the middle of 1800s Europe, now were these murderous cries harking back to the violent revolutions of the same period as well? With a timid Aei, increasingly frightened by the raucous crowd, keeping close to my side, I returned my glance to the guards, and noticed that they were staring right at me, ignoring the prisoner totally while still keeping him in a lock. Perhaps they were aware that I was the one who had unintentionally and inadvertently sparked off these mass protestations ... and seemed to be thanking me for my 'patriotic' initiative. The foreign prince, too, seemed to be aware of the fact that the guards were not really paying attention to him. However, instead of trying to escape, since he probably already realised that was futile, he instead shifted his gaze to the source of the guards' distraction, and quickly, his eyes widened as they met mine. Him having kept uncharacteristically silent for quite a while, I was startled when he suddenly broke out into a cry, one which seemed to be directed at yours truly. "Oh, mercy upon my accursed soul!" he cried, in his language which only I could understand, as he knelt toward me while still in the iron grip of the guards, "Is that the beautiful maiden whose visage has filled my every dream, satiated my hungering heart, and scripted each step of my life? How would I ever have imagined that destiny would confer upon me the joy ... no .. the exuberance of meeting her here, at this very moment, which I thought to be my final hour? This cannot be ... but this is! She is the one I have been destined to join my life to, the one with whom I shall unite the twin kingdoms of Consonance and Va World and finally bring peace to our war-torn nations! The blessed and most honourable and most divine of all, the royal Princess Uaeouue!" U ... what?! "I'm not your Princess!" I shrieked reflexively with the force of emotion suppressed from a morning of painful endurance. First, the old man at the farm, then, the relentless jibes of Aei, and later, even my own bloopers trying to find my way about the village! Will the curse of this confounded mistaken identity ever be dispelled? Damn it all! "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I yelled, fists already clenched into little balls as the blood of passion rushed through my arteries and into my expression-filled cheeks. And then everyone promptly did as I said. To shut up, that is. And my anger and frustration turned into outright fear as I realised, to my horror, that the unintelligible foreigner Pwyns Xjrmynq was no longer the centre of attention. It was me, with my ability to inavertantly communicate the expressions, correct or not, to the crowd. I was the centre of attention. Gazing, gawking, there was no escape from those watchful eyes as I glanced right and left, desperate to escape the encircling ring of attention. Even Aei, my only repose ... "Charlotte ..." she whispered as her soft, concerned eyes pierced my own tormented stare, "I told you not to ..." "Princess ... princess ..." the words ran through the crowd just like the murderous chants of moments ago. But instead of being followed up with curses and threats, that label that had somehow found its way onto my unlucky head was followed by murmurs and gasps of awe ... and fear. A sturdy young man who was standing a short distance away from me diverted his attention to the prisoner for a moment. Held in the arm-lock of the guards, he lay bent on his knees, head and shoulders bowed, fringe ruffled over his forehead, and a single bead of liquid indeterminable as either sweat or blood trickling down the front of his face and falling to the dry, gravelly road leaving a tiny puddle. And then this well-trained, independent young man did the unimaginable. He knelt. Judging by the singular mentality of the crowd, the follow-up effect was obvious. Where there had stood a sea of people railing and protesting there now remained only a single white island, Charlotte, singularly intimidated by the stillness of the unmoving waves about her, while a terrified Aei clung to her waist like the sacrifice chained to a pillar, with the source of the fear being not a horrible beast but the very tide itself. "Hey, kid, get down and show your respect!" hissed the burly fellow as he tugged at the hem of her dress, his timid voice belying his powerful stature, "It's rude to stand before the Princess!" Even the guards themselves had fallen to their armoured knees, their arms still locked around those of the prisoner who had started it all. The man's warning only startled the innocent child to cling to me ever the tighter. As if cherishing the protection, and jealous of copious quantities she seemed to be deriving from my helpless body, I threw my arm over her waist and clasped her tightly with all my strength. "Charlotte ..." she whimpered as she thrust her head against my chest, the warmness of her tears seeping through to scald my skin, "You didn't ... you never told me ..." "Get up," I whispered dryly, "Get up ... please ..." - Is your adventure going to continue? Find out in the next part! - posted by Charlotte | 3:13 pm (0) comments Tuesday, February 17, 2004 - War of Words, Part VI - "It is pointless to offer any resistance," intoned the left guard as, clutching his spear, he used it to push himself into a standing position, "We have you under arrest. There is no escape from the arms of the law." "Keep still, don't struggle, no false moves," demanded the right guard as he recovered his position with the aid of the shaft of his halberd, "You are advised to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you." "Right, like I can even move." I huffed, still aching from the weight of having a heavy weapon collapse upon me. In my rather severely hammered state, the only muscles I could really utilise were those around my mouth. "In the first place, you should have told me you didn't need to kill me ... then I would have happily surrendered." "Oh, but we will have to kill you," replied the left guard, as he prodded my boot with the toe of his own, "It is only a matter of when and where. But you still need to die, by the order of the law." "The people enjoy public executions," remarked the right guard, as he glanced into my eyes with his own, "But in the event of any resistance the sentence must be carried out immediately." "Hey, look, are you all obsessed about killing and traitors and stuff?" I complained, shooting my mouth off with the deftness of one with nothing to lose, "Doesn't it strike you as somewhat odd that you condemn a poor lost little girl as a traitor worthy only of the chopping block?" Well, I guess I did have something to lose ... my head, and anything I could possibly do to avert such a disastrous fate would be very helpful indeed. "Treachery comes in all forms and shapes," remarked the right guard, kneeling down again to stare ever deeper into my eyes, "To award mercy to any one traitor for any reason is defeating the purpose of our steadfastness!" Er, yeah, I kind of see the point, but still ... "In truth, it was to be through poisoning," considered the left guard, as he bent down to ponder to himself with my boot as inspiration, "But now that you suggest it, perhaps dismemberment and meat distribution might be an option." Uh, well, I hope he was joking on that one ... "I mean, well, seriously!" I stammered as I tried very hard to explain my case, hindered by the inability to move my limbs in an attempt to express myself, "Now that we're all calm and quiet, why don't you ask me some questions ... test me, challenge me, anything, and I'll prove to you that I'm not plotting anything of the sort, all right? You can't consider people guilty until proven innocent, you know." Or perhaps I could work a little on the phrasing there, since the more I talked the more it seemed that I was trying to wrangle my way out of certain death. Which was true, to quite a large extent. "That sounds simple enough," commented the left guard as I breathed a cold sigh of relief, "What questions should we ask her?" "Let me pose the first question," prepared the right guard as a wad of saliva rose in my throat, "What is your name?" "Oh, that's easy," I gasped, as I weakly raised an index finger of glee, "I'm Charlotte Tan." And for the record, my purpose is to find my way home, and my favourite colour is red. "Ha! I've caught you out!" laughed the right guard as a jolt of alarm ran up my spine, "The traitor has confessed her crime! The verdict is clear, and the sentence must be passed!" "W ... what crime?" I stammered, thinking at the back at my head that perhaps I had been dealing with a couple of lunatics all this while, "I just said my name! Is there something wrong with that?" "That is exactly it!" roared the left guard as beads of my cold sweat broke out like a rash, "The people of Va World would never carry such a name! Beyond a doubt, you are one of the Consonance!" "One of the Consonance?" I repeated, on hindsight thinking what a foolish mistake it was to travel with that popmpous buffoon from the beginning, "I already told you, I'm not one of them! I'm just a girl!" "Did you just say something?" hissed a voice from somewhere in the crowd, one which sounded strangely familiar ... oh, that nincompoop. My ears pricked up to his distinctly accented voice, one which the guards had difficulty in understanding but not discerning. "Did you just hear something?" questioned the left guard, as he glanced from side to side, "It was a strange voice, belonging to a strange man. Don't you think ..." "I heard it, indeed!" confirmed the right guard as his gaze shifted from left to right, "It sounds like the other one of Consonance, the other one of the traitors! But, what should we ..." And one more thing which was really bugging me, apart from the fact that my supposed protector had just gone and scarpered into the crowd leaving me lying on the gravel in the middle of the village for all the townsfolk to see, it was the fact that these two guards ... "Look, are the two of you brothers or twins or something?" I cried, irked halfway to insanity by their ceaseless chattering, "Why must the two of you keep speaking in tandem? Don't you have any thoughts of your own? Did you know that you're both simply frightening to listen to? Huh?" At this comment, however, they became visibly annoyed ... or what little could be seen of their faces, anyway. "Speaking together is a great sign of partnership," defended the left guard as he held a protective fist to the air, "It is precisely because we share no blood that we should speak together!" "Speaking together builds camaraderie," insisted the right guard, with an irritated wave of the halberd, "Our speech reflects our equal standings, merit, and authority." "I salute you, old partner!" exclaimed the left guard as he raised a hand to his fellow. "Well said, my comrade!" laughed the right guard as he returned the cheery greeting. "Yay. Joy ..." I groaned as the two put their palms together then laughed out loud like, well, old friends, I guess. It seems that I really was dealing with a bunch of twits here, and that Pwyns Xjrmynq had yet to return even though I could hear him, sneaking about among the village crowd. "I hate my life ..." "But be on your guard, my good associate!" cautioned the right guard as he withdrew his hand, "Let's not chatter any more, I fear this may simply be a ploy by the traitor to distract us from our mission." "You're right, my faithful colleague," acknowledged the left guard as he clasped his spear, "Judging from the deceitful nature of this villain, it is likely that she has already planned a surprise attack." "A surprise attack? What in goodness' gracious' name are you talking about? I can't even move, let alone do anything like that!" I cried, although I did realise (a little too late) that having the guards talking instead of watching me might offer an opportunity of escape, "I'll do anything you want, to prove that I'm not a traitor or whatever, okay ...?" However, my plea was promptly cut short by the sound of a haughty, conceited, and ultimately ridiculous proclamation emanating from somewhere to my side, where the fountain stood. I inclined my head. "Well said, my trusty Xkwyr!" announced the royal twit as he stood on the concrete rim of the fountain, his trusty dagger at his belt, "You are indeed most intelligent for having made provisions to allow me to launch a surprise attack upon these disbelieving infidels! Fall and die, unworthy scoundrels, as my blade of light shall slice your dark hearts and carve out peace, justice and honour, in the great name of Consonance!" Needless to say, however, his speech drew not applause but the quick glares of the guards who were watching over me. Stupid man, if only he had done that a few minutes later, when I had recovered the use of my limbs, I could have escaped while he was distracting them and left him, instead of me, to a nasty and grisly fate he fully deserved. "Isn't that the man you were supposed to be pursuing?" questioned the left guard as he got to his feet, raising his spear to thrust, "How foolish of us to let him escape earlier, and how the more fool he is for returning." "That idiot dares to return to look for death?" hissed the right guard as he recovered his position, hoisting his halberd for attack, "Let us apprehend this foe together, and then we can execute both enemies, together." "Yes, I understand how perplexed your feeble minds are at having fallen into my most deadly trap," taunted the hopelessly inept Pwyns as the guards advanced on him, "But there is no need to babble, because I do not understand a words you might be uttering. Instead, bare your chests in reception of my mighty dagger of ..." He never got to finish his sentence, due to the presence of a razor-sharp spear head being thrust his way at lightning speed. Ooh ... I can't watch. "Grr ... missed! This villain flees as fast as the first!" cursed the left guard as he swung around. "The pest! We shall persevere, in the name of duty!" roared the right guard as he whirled about. Somehow, Pwyns Xjrmynq had been able to leap right over the spearman without getting anywhere near impaled in the slightest, and looked like he was prepared to do more of the same. Hmm ... while he is undeniably the most incompetent moron I have ever met, I must say that he is rather agile indeed. Now, if only I was the same, so that I would be able to dart away and flee for my life given this excellent opportunity. What he did at this time, however, was a move that utterly baffled all logic and sense. "Die!" he yelled again, as this time he did not simply stand there and taunt his enemies, but instead charged headlong into their midst while unarmoured and undefended. Whether that was bravery, foolhardiness or plain stupidity eluded me, and while the guards prepared to receive his 'assault', the bet was not on whether he would succeed or fail, but whether he would get pierced through the heart or sliced in half. Anyone? The dashing (in the sense ' fast', of course) Pwyns Xjrmynq was quickly within weapons' length of the polearm-wielding guards, and needless to say, the sharpened spear tip surged forward as the axe head descended to utterly annihilate the unlucky man. But was it his speed or his luck that aided him? With the deftness of one who has planned the enemies' every move, he ducked as he darted forward to avoid the spear thrust, while shimmying sideways to ignore the axe head, and before the guards could retract their weapons they had become caught up in each other, and the assassin was within arms length to deliver the finishing blow. "Oh no!" exclaimed the right guard, who noticed Pwyns Xjrmynq headed for his partner, but could not protect him. "Argh!" cried the left guard, who spotted Pwyns Xjrmynq aiming for his heart a little too late, and could not evade the blow. "This ... is ... for ... Charlotte!" he screamed, in a voice so forced it twisted into a high pitch, as he raised the dagger and let loose upon the spearman, aiming it with the precision of mere seconds, and thrust it straight for the left side of the guard's chest with the force only a skinny yet springy young man could muster. Oh ... I still can't watch ... There only came the sound of metal scraping over metal, before that of a small metallic object clanking to the gravel floor. And when I dared to open my eyes, all I saw was the left guard having seized Pwyns Xjrmynq by the scruff of his neck with his left hand, his right hand still clutching his trusty spear, while the right guard stood a little beside his partner, holding his halberd and looking alternately mighty relieved and mighty pleased. The dagger that my former associate had claimed to rely upon so much, however, was lying on the floor, glinting in the morning sun, ultimately impotent. "Grr ... unhand me, you scoundrel! You monster! You contemptible rat!" growled Pwyns Xjrmynq as he wrangled in the grasp of the left guard, unable to so much as touch the guard all decked out in a full set of armour, while with the slightest remotely threatening move the guard could simply tighten his grip around his neck, strangling him. You know, my good friend Pwyns Xjrmynq, medieval soldiers wore armour for a reason ... so that they wouldn't be killed easily by knife-wielding brigands utilising cheap surprise attacks. "Now that we've got both of the villains," murmured the right guard, "What should we do with them? Perhaps we should execute them immediately." Hoisting his halberd, seeing as to how his partner had no problems with subduing Pwyns Xjrmynq, he strode over to where I was lying. "Perhaps that could come in later," considered the left guard, "Who are these people, anyway? They do not seem to provide much opposition ..." Raising his spear, his iron grasp still tightened around the neck of Pwynx Xjrmynq, he dragged the noble over to his compatriot. "Release me, you confounded imbecile!" he roared, with all the anger and fury of a lion but with the potency of an infant, as he swung about in his tantrum, "I'll have you know that I am Pwyns Xjrmynq, scion of the most noble and honourable royal family of Consonance, and heir to the nation's throne! I am Pwyns Xjrmynq, the most fearsome assassin ever trained by the court university of my homeland! I am ..." "Oh, shut up!" I yelled, my frustration having already reached boiling point over my meaningless exertions earlier, the whining and blustering of a spoilt and retarded loafer was more than enough to push it over, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" "Wha ...?" At once, the heads of the three men turned to face me as I lay on the floor. Then, upon realising that somehow all three of them had been summoned by the same command, the two guards' heads naturally inclined to glance at the royal buffoon, himself being too caught up in his theatrics to even notice his two foes had turned to stare at him. "H ... how? What is this language? How can this be possible?" pondered the left guard, still holding the flailing prisoner by his neck, "Evidently this is no ordinary girl. Perhaps she does merit a few more questions before her death." "Who was she yelling at after all?" considered the right guard, still angling his deadly halberd for attack, "Not that it matters, but before we execute them we should bring this to the attention of the mayor, right away." "..." I groaned, lying like a slab of roadkill in the middle of the village crossroads, roasting in the heat of the ascending sun, my accompaniment being the shouts and wails of a hopeless and helpless royal pain. - Your adventure ends here. Now, who's 'Here', I wonder? - Ahh ... I finally found out how to access the information about offers on the UCAS website, so I can check them. Apart from Cambridge (ugh ... please don't remind me ... *whimper*) it appears that Warwick has also rejected me, but for the Creative Writing application. Apparently, they aren't interested in having a student apply for two courses at the same university, and make only one offer. Interestingly enough, despite the 'deadline' for sample submission to East Anglia (which happened to fall right in the middle of A levels) having been gone for months, they still haven't rejected me outright yet. Better they do so quickly, and save themselves any paperwork. The offers by York and Durham are there, and Warwick is still considering for History. So what this means is, if I do badly for A levels (touch wood!) I'll probably be studying at York if I don't retake my A levels, and if I do well enough ... maybe I might try again. Who knows? posted by Charlotte | 3:50 pm (0) comments Monday, February 16, 2004 Yes, this is the customary break between sets of stories, where I shall just ramble on about something ... anything ... still worth commenting on which I haven't given my two millions' worth of already. Er, two millions of rupiah, perhaps. And also, to eat up some unfilled posts because yes, though the fact is that I post everyday, the only thing that really means is that I pay attention to this everyday. Hey, that's better than a lot of other people (though certainly not as good as some others). Hmm, being currently unemployed and not seeking work (so I'm not on the graphs, don't bother looking), I guess it might be nice to share my schedule with all those other people who are wistfully thinking of those good old days when they could sit around doing nothing. Here goes. Monday, Wednesday, Friday : Wake up 8-9am, putter around on computer until 8-9pm, eat something, take a bath, post. Tuesday and Thursday : See above, except going out for lunch at 2+, so I actually have two meals a day! Saturday : See above, except probability of lunch is inversely proportional as to whether my family goes out for dinner. Sunday : See above, except probabilities of lunch and dinner are reversed. Wow, that was easy, wasn't it? Don't you wish that you were as pathetic and useless as I am? Well, of course you don't, because if you do I seriously doubt your parents have ever worked a day in their lives. Why all this dallying and retardation? Because I can't get off the computer, enjoying the wonderful stuff created by other people, to spend more time creating something of my own (trouble? confusion? misery?), which basically means I spent too much time playing RPGs. Bleh. I do recall (not more than half a year, but it seems so far away) that I used to enjoy real-time strategy, with stuff like Warcraft, Starcraft and Command and Conquer, but ... I don't know. Maybe I'm just afraid of the real challenge of RTS which is the multiplayer, having never played a legitimate, competitive game online in my life even though that is the very essence and selling point of RTS. I have The Frozen Throne, and so far have spent less than 5 hours on it. I didn't touch the Generals expansion Zero Hour ever since it appeared on the shelves months ago. Closer to the RPG genre, the last thing I was playing before Final Fantasy came into my life was Neverwinter Nights, but since then I haven't picked up the latest expansion (which I happened to be waiting expectantly for, until ...) Hordes of the Underdark. A changing spectrum of interests, huh? I do recall, again, how several years ago I gave up simulation games for good after Maxis' most profitable, and most ridiculous creation came out, The Sims. Hmm ... I wonder why they got acquired by EA. And then all of the other good games, like SimCity, started to revolve more and more around those little buggers who play out real life on your computer and then the whole simulation genre (by Maxis-turned-EA's subsidiary) lost its point. And if you write me a huge letter telling me how the Sims is the best game ever in the world, I will understand that you're arguing on a reasonable level but I will forever think you are a supremely deluded moron who obviously lives a charmed life, seeing as to how you actually find joy in playing out real life on the computer when you could actually go out, live it, and find out how hard it is. Heh. Why do kids (well, most kids) enjoy computer games while adults (well, most adults) don't? Maybe it's just the slow but gradual understanding that you can't go on living other lives forever but you actually have to go out into the real world and live one. And you know what? I think I'm just too cowardly to live life in the 'real world', and since I don't look forward to it how much does it matter if I never do live it? And, weaning myself away from the lives created by others, I will (or should, seeing as to how everything is uncertain) create a life for myself, away from the one that has been thrown in my face. Escapist, yes, but that's life. What lousy irony. Some people in life are escapist, and try as you might you can't do anything about that, so you might as well let them suffer by themselves. Blah blah blah. Enough of this ranting about games, we don't want that (the ranting, not the games ... hehe). Maybe I simply must say that the Chorale chalet I attended from Friday to Saturday night was, in my opinion, the absolutely most enjoyable ... excursion ('camp'? I don't think so.) I have attended in my life. It wasn't the most well-planned one, but it was one where everyone was given room for them to enjoy themselves as they wished. And, when the J2s were so kind as to prepare heaps upon heaps of sandwiches, painstakingly created by hand, for everyone's breakfast, I couldn't help but reminisce on my own time as a 'senior', and the callous, self-serving way I went about everything, and realise that sometimes, it really does feel nice to do things for other people for a change. Unfortunate that it only applies to people I know or am affiliated to to a certain extent. To pass compliments would be an injustice, so I shan't do more than give them my best regards. Right now, I'm playing Final Fantasy Tactics, and I absolutely declare that while it's not by the exact same people who made all the numbered FFs, I found the story to be immensely more thought-provoking, the topics more controversial, and the gameplay more challenging than any other. And it's bloodier as well. The lack of an obvious love interest for our darling protagonist helps as well. The only thing I haven't found it to be so far is saddening. Shocking, yes, but not so far as to push you off the cliff of your eyelid. That is all. Back to work, for you and for me. posted by Charlotte | 3:27 pm (0) comments Sunday, February 15, 2004 - The Wayward, Part V.ii - 20. I'd better bolt for it, or I'll be screwed. "All right," demanded the mysterious, rough yet toned voice from somewhere behind the piles of rubble, "Come out here ... put your weapons down and your hands on your head!" Accosted by a mysterious stranger while exploring the ruin of a destroyed building of some kind, my first instinct was to flee, not being very combative myself. But what if someone had a gun aimed right for my head, or was armed and ready to beat me senseless and leave me to die ... or worse. I did fear the first time I encountered that voiceless creature back there on the cliff ... but without the inability to understand anything it was saying, I felt as if the threat it posed seemed a lesser one, one which ultimately proved to be illusionary. But there I was, with my back against the metallic wall of the room that remained. I feared. "If you didn't know, I can see you, mister!" And now, there was nothing to fear. My pursuer had just revealed his ineptitude, "Don't make a false move, or I'll have you dead in a second!" Heh. Yeah, right. I might not be the most seductive little temptress this side of the planet but at least it was pretty obvious, from my dressing if nothing else, that I was well and truly not a 'mister'. And that meant whoever it was that was hiding in the ruin did not see me at all. What a pathetic pretence, A little more at ease, I took a slight step back, hoping to slide to the corner and behind the metallic room ... When suddenly, a piece of rock, brick or shot of some kind came hurtling from behind the destroyed wall, heading straight for ... for the glass panels to the left of me. With a crash that sounded deafening in the stifling stillness of the ruin, the projectile smashed through two shards of glass that still remained standing like stalagtites at the base of the shattered chamber. Woefully off target, I must say, but thrown with the strength of the fastest bowler or pitcher I could imagine. "I'll have you!" exclaimed the voice, still behind the wall, as a last piece of glass clattered to the floor. Pricking up my ears, I concentrated in an effort to determine just where he was coming from ... only to notice a small shadow gradually growing from behind the wall, accompanied by the sound of heavy trudging footsteps. You know, if I had a weapon, you'd be the one who'll be dead before they can move, mister. Sensing my last opportunity to flee before the figure emerged from behind the wall, I felt adrenaline surge throughout my starved little legs as, at the last second, with a deft leap or two I made it to the corner of the room then flung myself around it ... to the accompaniment of those heavy footsteps now making their way forward at a hasty and reckless pace, in pursuit of their now-missing prey. "Don't play games with me! I can read your every step ..." cried the man, before his footsteps drew to a standstill as he appeared before me. From the vantage point of the small nook behind the corner, I could watch him as he paced about, scratching his head wonderingly as he searched for any traces of his target. "Hmph ... damn right ... I was sure I saw something!" the man reasserted himself grumpily as he paused to survey the bit of blasted ruin before him. Dressed in a plain shirt and trousers, with brown hair that just covered his ears neatly trimmed and combed, and wearing a straw hat to shield his eyes from the sun, he looked like an explorer or adventurer of some kind, complete with handy utility belt strung around his waist. Or maybe he was just a sophisticated-looking construction worker of some sort. "Come to think of it," he murmured again, unable to think without voicing his thoughts, "I haven't seen this part of the building before. Maybe ... that's where I should be searching. Hmm ..." His footsteps now drew a regular pattern, one where they gradually sounded louder ... and louder. He was walking toward my position! But ... oh, how could I be so careless! I should have fled while he was busy muttering to himself. Now, although he still had not noticed me, if I attempted to dart out of my hiding place beside the frame of the door he would most certainly see me in an instant, and if he was armed ... But still ... the steps, drawing nearer and nearer. The time for making a decision was running out! To bolt, and potentially be attacked in my escape, or to stay, and be caught for certain? I could not afford to fall into the hands of any thieves or criminals at a point in time where I haven't even found my bearings. And maybe ... hopefully ... he would be caught be surprise long enough for me to escape him. Clutching the door frame with my left hand, my right hand over the door itself, I readied myself to dash off in what might be my last escape. I silently counted, three, two, one ... As I pushed myself off, I could not help but to pathetically whimper, "Help ..." "I think I shall ... what? Hey, hey you! Stop! Stop and be apprehended, you law-breaking trespasser ..." I bore little heed to anything he said, as clutching my hair in my hands I fled behind the room, tears of desperation already coursing down my dusty cheeks. As I rounded the corner, so that now I was at the side of the room directly opposite the door, I heard the man's authoritative voice ringing out again, "You, stop where you are right now! Don't come any closer ... I can be dangerous in a fight," Knowing that he wasn't referring to me, for a split second the thoughts coursed through my head as to what mysterious stranger had suddenly manifested in front of him just in time to save my hide. And then, unable to restrain my curiosity, I peeked round the corner. And of course, it was ... it. "All right, you asked for it!" cried the man as he raised his fists, backing away as the creature slowly approached, "I'm not holding back! You'll regret this!" Perhaps it was indeed listening to me in some strange way, despite not being gifted with organs of hearing of any kind. Still swathed in the concealing laboratory coat, it edged forward until it forced the man out of my line of sight, from my position behind the corner of the room. And then it struck. For a moment, the only noise I heard was that of a rustling of clothes, as presumably the man swung his fist forward to strike. But that was followed by no retaliatory movement of any kind. It was only an eerie silence, a stillness. "What? No, no, I didn't do it!" rang out the voice of the man all of a sudden, this time not in a threatening tone of brinkmanship but with the scratchy dryness of one who could find little feeling in his body ... beyond the chilling pervasiveness of fear, "S... stay away from me! Stop doing that, you ... no! There must be a mistake! I wouldn't do such a ... argh! Stop messing with my head!" So, perhaps that was the creature's defense ... or offense, perhaps. Pure, unadulterated fear ... but the fear of what, as experienced by this unlucky pursuer, was beyond my knowledge. Hearing the tortured cries of the suddenly braveless attacker, I felt curious enough to step forward from my hiding place, but only past a few steps, upon which I felt unexplainably nauseous. Best not to interrupt my guide-turned-follower-turned-defender, as it did its ... well ... thing. "Argh ... ugh ..." groaned the man, most likely contorted in some state of agony as he was engulfed by waves upon waves of torment, "This is horrible ... I can't take this ... I know it isn't real, but ... just get away from me! Stay away!" "I think that's enough ..." I thought aloud as I tried my very fervent best to imagine what kind of horrible tortures that stranger might be going through ... not because I would like to experience them myself but, well, I guess I am human after all, despite how that may sometimes seem rather unlikely. Sure enough, the creature hovered backward, completely into my line of sight, accompanied by nothing other than the agonised scratching of fingers against the earth, by a man so wrecked by horrors so unimaginable he could do that and nothing else. "Oh ... gasp ..." wheezed the man, still behind the corner, as he struggled to elocute his words, "Is someone ... over there?" Perhaps my timid and unintended words might have momentarily pierced the damning suffering he was experiencing, like a ray of heavenly light piercing the gloomy clouds that were gradually gathering at a distance not too far away from the ruins. "Help ..." Help. I do so recall needing that but a few moments ago, when this very man who was, or claimed to be, after my life and limb had been pursuing me, and it seemed painfully ironic now that the situation had been so drastically reversed. Perhaps it was my natural kindness which had remained dormant all through my childhood, or simply my conscience pricking up at me for causing an unintended amount of pain to someone else, that I did find the courage and determination to step forward, to see the gaping eyes of that same man glancing expectantly in my direction. "I ... oh, a kid?" he gasped as he glared at me looking extremely surprised, before struggling hard to pull himself into a position vaguely resembling a sitting one. "Oh, my hat!" he cried as, feeling the top of his head and failing to find the expected straw hat, he somehow found energy enough to lunge behind him to snatch up the cap and pop it over his now somewhat ruffled hair before turning back to face me again. "Er, are you all right?" I murmured, not knowing what to say. He was the first stranger I had encountered who was actually intent on speaking to me, and thus, naturally, I was at a loss for words. "Aah!" he yelled suddenly, before quickly laying himself down on the floor again, "Hurry, save yourself, before the monster gets you! Leave me ... let me die!" "You're not going to die ..." I muttered, sighing to myself at the ludicrosity of his play-acting, "In fact, you don't look anywhere remotely near dying." "But, that creature, it just ..." And then, with incredible ease from one who had been bemoaning such pain, he sat up and glared straight at me, "Say, you wouldn't happen to be its owner, would you?" "Owner?" I repeated, glancing sideways to see the creature simply staying there in its stillness, not moving or doing anything, threatening or otherwise, "It kind of listens to me ... so maybe you could say that, perhaps ..." Upon which, my train of thought was immediately interrupted by a loud whack, as the rather lively man crashed himself to the floor once again. "Oh ... this is embarrassing, so embarrassing ... this is embarrassment manifested!" groaned, or whined, as it seemed, the man as he ground himself to the floor, beating his fists against the blasted rubble to no pain, apparently, "I ... Io Aoi, intrepid explorer, renowned hunter of criminals, treasures, and ladies' hearts, most famous adventurer in the whole of Va World, humbled by a mere girl and her pet. Grr ... it must be divine justice, sent to plague me for my undeniable superiority over any opposition I have faced in my life thus far ..." Ladies' hearts? Mere girl? Undeniable superiority? Why, this person must have the most incredibly advanced case of delusions of grandeur I have ever seen ... thus far. But while his ramblings, his connotations and his chauvinistic attitude left much to be desired, one thing stood out ... "Va World? Where's that?" I murmured aloud, heedless of the degree of self-torment he was driving himself into. "Wha ... did you just ask 'where's that'?" Io Aoi, intrepid explorer and hunter of all manner of things inquired as he broke out of his stupor of stupidity, "Are you a spy or a thief or some other sort of villain from Consonance who's come to bring plague and suffering to this noble land? If that is so, I must kill you!" "You don't seem to be in a position to kill anyone ... including yourself ..." I commented rather blatantly, an obvious fact seeing as to how he had not even achieved the task of getting onto his feet, one he accepted rather dismayedly, "Anyway, I'm not a spy or a thief or anything ... I'm just lost." "You don't even know which country you live in?" he grimaced, trying his best to imagine someone even more stupid than he was. Well, presumably he thought himself to be a very intelligent sort of person, but that was beside the point. "No, just that ... I don't know where I am. As in, well, 'Va World' and 'Consonance' or whatever you call them aren't even on my map, if you get what I mean. As in, I'm really, really lost," I offered, in an attempt to get out of a potentially sticky situation. "But you speak the same language, and you've a pet ..." he considered, scratching his hair under his straw hat, "You're telling me you don't live here?" "As to why we can understand each other, I don't know ..." I murmured, before glancing to the creature beside me again. It hadn't moved from its spot. "But the ... monster ... over there isn't really my pet ... it just started following me. Not more than a few minutes ago, in fact. Before that, I had followed it here. And it gave me a fright when I first saw it too, if you'd like to know." "You say you followed it here ... that's an interesting story," commented Io as finally, it occured to him that he was not mauled as severely as he believed and was actually able to get to his feet and dust himself off, "This place is government property. I'm under orders, from the government itself, to investigate the cause of its destruction and to salvage whatever I can. And, of course," he added with a glint in his eye, "to arrest anyone who might impede me in the process of it." "As I said before, you're not in a position to arrest anyone" I muttered, not particularly impressed by his attempt to sound threatening, "But you're in luck. Actually, I was wondering if you could take me to the nearest town so I could find my way home from there ..." "Well ..." he remarked as he stuck a finger into his hat in an attempt to tip it, but it wasn't really one that looked that it could be tipped, "I know my manly charms are a bit too much for some young girls to handle ('Wha ...'), but I'm not bringing underage children around with me. I've got a reputation to protect, and I don't want rumours or accusations flying around later. You got that, girlie?" Girlie? What the heck? And while I didn't mind that much how he thought I looked younger than the legal age what I did mind was the fact he believed I was bent on getting involved in some sordid relationship with him at any time. For that matter, he was not only a pathetic liar, but a presumptious buffoon and a pretentious oaf with an overblown sense of self-confidence. But instead of replying to him in the rudest fashion I could summon, I decided that it was best to be diplomatic and try to actually provide him with a good reason, apart from my (non-existent, but, if any, thoroughly unintended) sexual appeal, why he should offer me a lift. "Hmm ... you said you were looking for things left behind after ... whatever happened here happened," I offered, making no reference whatsoever to his unnecessary comments earlier, "This ... thing ... here (indicating the creature, likely that it did not mind being referred to in any way) actually led me to this place. Maybe it comes from here ... and maybe you should bring it with you." "You're right ..." he murmured as he stroked his clean-shaven chin, "And since you claim it listens to you ... ah, well, of course! You needn't inviegle me into having you on my carriage with such a clever ploy, girlie ('I wasn't trying, mister.'). But I'm warning you, if I bring you with me, the palace's elite constables will want to have a few words with you as to what you are doing on restricted government property." "Heh ... so you want to arrest me." I chuckled as I read into the obvious, "And what if I refuse?" "Then I suggest you get out of here, right now," he gave me a threatening grin, flashing a set of perfect ... ly unwashed teeth, "Before I even remember that you were here." "Then I have no choice," I replied nonchalantly, paying no heed to his toothy yet toothless threat. I weighed the possibilities, and, without needing much time at all, found one side to be much heavier than the other. "Then arrest me. Better you bring me to some place with civilisation, than I end up lost in the middle of ... Va World, or whatever, without food or water. Besides, the police, or constables, whatever you call them, are supposed to guide people, and maybe they can help me find my way home. So how about it?" "All in good time, lass," Io remarked with an irritating wave of his finger, "For starters, why don't you be a doll ('Stop it ...') and help me get the stuff I find onto my carriage? I don't think I've explored this part of the building yet, and this room here looks ... interesting." "It's locked, but I think I can get it open," I murmured, fondling the ring hiding in the depths of my pocket, before shooting him a sharp glance, "And stop treating me like an inferior being just because I'm a girl." "But you are ..." he added matter-of-factly, as he gave the doorknob a sharp wrench, and found it to be exactly as I said. Tightly locked. "Shut up." He hadn't listened to me. - Your adventure ants, er, Ents, um, ands, uh, Ann's ... oh forget it. It doesn't. - posted by Charlotte | 3:32 pm (0) comments Disclaimer : The Slayers and Filia Ul Copt and all images thereof are the property of Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi. I don't own any of them, although if I had a choice I would want Filia ... ~//n_n\\7 |
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