lovest harding
The lives of men and the truths of the sword…
The moon broke through the clouds as they carried the rain off. The forest gathered the shadows around the group of men in front of her. They watched her, twitching with each breath. Their every thought was tied to her body, every motion was a ripple of her own.
Her anger and pain melted away, carried off in the rain clouds as they vanished. Her doubts rushed back and her hand trembled under the weight of the blade. Her eyes shifted around the moonlit clearing. Her legs shivered.
The sword shimmered brighter than it ever had before. It summoned the haunting voice back to her head. Show them.
In an instant, she lost control of her arm. It raised the sword to the men and pointed its glaring light into their faces. She swallowed and watched her grip tighten around the blade. She whispered in fear, “I…I can’t.”
Then I will show them. She fought the feeling as her body numbed. Her arm reached down and ripped her skirt off completely. Electricity pulsed around her as her legs began a sprint towards the men.
They tightened their group and raised their shields. She tried to stop her body. The sword raised high and fell against a shield. The crash shook her. Her body moved quickly against the men, but none of the strikes found skin. The blade shrieked against the defending shields.
She retreated into the woods, spider webs full of dew sticking to her drying hair. Her body turned and stopped. She watched the men bring down their shields and weapons from her spot in the forest. The sword screamed into her mind. Show them! They killed everything! They killed everyone! Show them!
The sword dulled, dying in her hand. Her mind filled with something, a feeling she didn’t recognize. It fought its way into her and settled in. I can teach you. We will show them. We will show them their end. I will show you power.
Its melodious echo spoke truths she hadn’t heard before. She knew in an instant that she needed this. She needed to show them and she needed the sword to show her. She whimpered into the wet night, “Show them.”
The sword took control. The static around her body filled it, burning into her skin. She saw it flicker with a faint light and felt the heat envelope her. Every scratch and wound from before healed in the warmth. Her skin sparkled with a golden pattern, marking her.
She focused on the men in the clearing, still standing in the circle. Her eyes lit the area around her, casting everything in a shimmering flash of light. Her body shrank into the brush and pushed against the wet ground.
She burst into the clearing with a roar of thunder and the men faltered. Her legs worked in a pace she had never known, carrying her directly to the men. They stumbled back and she struck against the first, hitting his shoulder and sending him to the ground. He fell. Time slowed again and she watched the rest shudder against her new-found power.
The blade found its home in another man’s stomach and retreated just as quickly. He fell. The blade slashed against a shield, shattering it. The shards rained down on the man and she kicked his head with a powerful leg. He fell. The men fell back and she worked her way forward, leaving men bleeding and dying behind her. Her blade struck another man in groin and he released his shield. She forced the blade into his exposed arm. He fell.
One man began to run. She watched him trip and grasp at his leg. A smile crossed her lips as the other men surrounded her. Her arms rose above her head and the clear sky thundered. Her hands trembled and fell, bringing flashes of light crashing down around her. Lightning broke into the men. They convulsed and shook against the wet ground. She could feel pleasure radiate from the sword.
“Please,” the man who tripped spoke and brought the world spinning back into time. “Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Tears ran down his face and she knew he was the executioner. Her compassion fled and her eyes focused. Watch him cower. Do you want me to show you real power, girl? Real power?
“Yes,” she answered out loud and confusion crossed the crying man’s face.
Do it. Show him. Show me. The echo goaded.
She walked up to the cowering man and watched him. She placed a hand under his chin and brought his gaze up to match her own. His pleas fell silent against the thunder inside her head. His tears fell fast and hard. She lifted the sword and struck his neck. The blade slipped into his throat, only stopping when hitting bone.
She let the blade sit inside his throat and watched the life run from his face. Fear, anger, and pleasure mixed inside her to create a potent storm of emotion. As every thought rushed by she could feel herself grow stronger. The more she felt, the easier it was not to feel. Her eyes lit his empty face with a light from inside her. She pulled the sword free and let the body collapse. He fell.
The sword shimmered back to life and the echo in her head thundered. Now, I will show you…
『Darkness』
Jamais Changeant
(Judge the last one)
Nila cooed at the creature in her arms. A goddess? A goddess with a griffin-like child? Goddess of what? Why her? Why then? So many more questions ran through her mind as the fog continued to consume her. It was a cleansing experience. All the worries and woes of humanity washed out of her pores, were taken by the fog, and disappeared into the darkness. She couldn't see anything other than the red eyes of her child staring at her.
She didn't need to see. It dawned on her that the fog was halting around her own eyes. She looked down at the baby in her hands, asking for it's guidance. It's beak clicked and that voice permeated her brain again; "Close your eyes, let the transformation end. Let it consume you mother."
A phone rang from somewhere outside of the fog. She looked, but could not see it. It was most likely her friends again. They'd given up going to her house. She'd been holed up in their for weeks. They'd taken to calling at least once a day. She never answered. They seemed even more distant now. The phone rang four more times then went to the machine.
"Nila, are you there? We're worried about you sweetie. Are you sick? Please call back!"
The phone clicked and went silent once more. She smirked and laughed. Sick? Farthest thing from it. She never felt better. She closed her eyes in obedience and felt a warmth flow through her veins. She felt the markings on her body spreading again. They covered her entire body, intertwining like a dark web.
She felt her hair fall from the top of her head, all but the bangs which had been died black by the fog. Oddly, she didn't care. She felt the more conventional clothes break apart and disappear into the fog. She felt a tail protrude from her bottom and swish about behind her while two horns protruded from her head. She felt her wings grow steadily larger until they were like bat wings. She flapped them again, awed by her control over something so new.
Finally, the fog disappeared and she stood in the middle of her dark home, born again. The child clicked it's beak in approval once more. It lifted itself out of her hands and flew up to her head. It landed playfully and peaked down as she opened her eyes. She looked up and saw her image reflected in his blood red eyes. She was gorgeous! This was the real Nila. Her parents had been right to name her that. Nila; "dark blue", the dark goddess.
She glided forward towards the front door and walked outside. It was midnight, pitch black outside. The stars seemed to dim when she walked under them. She smiled at the child and nodded, accepting of her newfound life. "Tell me what to do now, Krishna."
Nila cooed at the creature in her arms. A goddess? A goddess with a griffin-like child? Goddess of what? Why her? Why then? So many more questions ran through her mind as the fog continued to consume her. It was a cleansing experience. All the worries and woes of humanity washed out of her pores, were taken by the fog, and disappeared into the darkness. She couldn't see anything other than the red eyes of her child staring at her.
She didn't need to see. It dawned on her that the fog was halting around her own eyes. She looked down at the baby in her hands, asking for it's guidance. It's beak clicked and that voice permeated her brain again; "Close your eyes, let the transformation end. Let it consume you mother."
A phone rang from somewhere outside of the fog. She looked, but could not see it. It was most likely her friends again. They'd given up going to her house. She'd been holed up in their for weeks. They'd taken to calling at least once a day. She never answered. They seemed even more distant now. The phone rang four more times then went to the machine.
"Nila, are you there? We're worried about you sweetie. Are you sick? Please call back!"
The phone clicked and went silent once more. She smirked and laughed. Sick? Farthest thing from it. She never felt better. She closed her eyes in obedience and felt a warmth flow through her veins. She felt the markings on her body spreading again. They covered her entire body, intertwining like a dark web.
She felt her hair fall from the top of her head, all but the bangs which had been died black by the fog. Oddly, she didn't care. She felt the more conventional clothes break apart and disappear into the fog. She felt a tail protrude from her bottom and swish about behind her while two horns protruded from her head. She felt her wings grow steadily larger until they were like bat wings. She flapped them again, awed by her control over something so new.
Finally, the fog disappeared and she stood in the middle of her dark home, born again. The child clicked it's beak in approval once more. It lifted itself out of her hands and flew up to her head. It landed playfully and peaked down as she opened her eyes. She looked up and saw her image reflected in his blood red eyes. She was gorgeous! This was the real Nila. Her parents had been right to name her that. Nila; "dark blue", the dark goddess.
She glided forward towards the front door and walked outside. It was midnight, pitch black outside. The stars seemed to dim when she walked under them. She smiled at the child and nodded, accepting of her newfound life. "Tell me what to do now, Krishna."
『Earth』
Ratt Scabies
Soon, no inch of Scott's body is left unmarred by the flora, and the tears return to his eyes; after all, the thorns from not only the tendrils of the rose, but all the other plants that now cover the entirety of his form bite into him roughly, showing no mercy.
How long he remains like this, he doesn't know, but it seems like forever and a day before the vines tighten once... and then being to loosen, taking their time as they slowly uncurl, starting at his head and retreating downward.
Again, he doesn't know how long it takes, but eventually the last tendril almost tenderly snakes up his leg and, after unattaching itself, returns to the rose from which it came.
The tears now gone from his eyes, Scott looks around, wide-eyed. But he's not scared. Oh, no. Much to the contrary. He knows what he's going to do, now. And it even entails his promised revenge, though it's definitely not coming about the way he thought it was.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It has been a week since Scott 'disappeared'. What really happened is never disclosed, and so life in the more rundown section of Gilead returns to what passes for normal there. That is, until the students get to school.
The entire school looks like it has been left to nature for a century. Vines of ivy and azalea cover the facade, while great trees burst through the roof. Mother Natured seemed to have done a good job with this one.
The students gape up at the school; they were dropped off by bus drivers or parents, and many of the latter groups stay to gawk as well.
On the front steps stands a single individual, his head lowered. Some of the students speculate who it could be; a few claim to recognize Scott, while others wonder if the man is a lawyer. The accusations grow crazier and crazier: scientist, shaman, wizard, god. They don't know how close to the truth they really are.
Once the man decides he has a large enough audience, he begins to speak, and even though he doesn't have a microphone or a megaphone, his voice reaches even those furthest away from him.
"I may not be the Lorax..." he begins, and people look up sharply, seemingly surprised by the man's sudden speech.
"But I can still speak for the trees. In the past, Gilead wasn't a very urban community, and that was good. But recently, we began to urbanize, and that was okay, I suppose. BUT ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! The trees will stand for it no longer!" His voice had started at a decent enough level, but he was now roaring at the crowd, some of them covering their ears and wincing. The ones who weren't laughing, that is.
Scott simply smiled. "I thought you'd see it my way," he continued, as if he didn't hear their jeers, and suddenly, he begin to shift, shedding his human form like a snake sheds its skin, and just as willingly.
Some cry out as they watch the transformation, looking on in horror-amazement-disgust-curiosity-repulsion-confusion. Some just gape, like they had originally done at the sight of the school. After the vines retreat and the smoke clears, Scott stand before his former peers in his new, true form.
And with a grin (or is it a smirk?), he gets to work.
The next day, the headline in next town over's newspaper reads as follows: Town suddenly void of life, seemingly in an 'advanced state' of reclamation by nature.
Below that, in smaller font: No bodies have been found. Almost five hundred people missing.
(last avvie to be judged)
How long he remains like this, he doesn't know, but it seems like forever and a day before the vines tighten once... and then being to loosen, taking their time as they slowly uncurl, starting at his head and retreating downward.
Again, he doesn't know how long it takes, but eventually the last tendril almost tenderly snakes up his leg and, after unattaching itself, returns to the rose from which it came.
The tears now gone from his eyes, Scott looks around, wide-eyed. But he's not scared. Oh, no. Much to the contrary. He knows what he's going to do, now. And it even entails his promised revenge, though it's definitely not coming about the way he thought it was.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It has been a week since Scott 'disappeared'. What really happened is never disclosed, and so life in the more rundown section of Gilead returns to what passes for normal there. That is, until the students get to school.
The entire school looks like it has been left to nature for a century. Vines of ivy and azalea cover the facade, while great trees burst through the roof. Mother Natured seemed to have done a good job with this one.
The students gape up at the school; they were dropped off by bus drivers or parents, and many of the latter groups stay to gawk as well.
On the front steps stands a single individual, his head lowered. Some of the students speculate who it could be; a few claim to recognize Scott, while others wonder if the man is a lawyer. The accusations grow crazier and crazier: scientist, shaman, wizard, god. They don't know how close to the truth they really are.
Once the man decides he has a large enough audience, he begins to speak, and even though he doesn't have a microphone or a megaphone, his voice reaches even those furthest away from him.
"I may not be the Lorax..." he begins, and people look up sharply, seemingly surprised by the man's sudden speech.
"But I can still speak for the trees. In the past, Gilead wasn't a very urban community, and that was good. But recently, we began to urbanize, and that was okay, I suppose. BUT ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! The trees will stand for it no longer!" His voice had started at a decent enough level, but he was now roaring at the crowd, some of them covering their ears and wincing. The ones who weren't laughing, that is.
Scott simply smiled. "I thought you'd see it my way," he continued, as if he didn't hear their jeers, and suddenly, he begin to shift, shedding his human form like a snake sheds its skin, and just as willingly.
Some cry out as they watch the transformation, looking on in horror-amazement-disgust-curiosity-repulsion-confusion. Some just gape, like they had originally done at the sight of the school. After the vines retreat and the smoke clears, Scott stand before his former peers in his new, true form.
And with a grin (or is it a smirk?), he gets to work.
The next day, the headline in next town over's newspaper reads as follows: Town suddenly void of life, seemingly in an 'advanced state' of reclamation by nature.
Below that, in smaller font: No bodies have been found. Almost five hundred people missing.
(last avvie to be judged)
『Fire』
Elphaba the Renthead
Dropped Out
『Water』
Quiet Judgments
Mark lay sprawled across his bed in a daze. His mind racing on what was happening to him and his friends. He needed sleep but his mind would let him. He stared at the ceiling fan in his room. What was going to happen? How were they going to live… better yet where? How will the normal people deal with this? What about his mother? All these questions and more were racing through his mind. Slowly hiss mind slowed enough for him to get some rest.
He woke but not in his bedroom. It was some ethereal location. He saw a male figure pale in completion to maybe even albino looking. He was clad in a black shawl that spread across his body. A dark black sword strapped to his back. His blank eyes stared into Marks, and he spoke one single word, “Awaken.”
Suddenly waves of water came rushing down upon him the currents shifting him and pushing him in all directions. It felt like the waters themselves were trying to tear him apart at the same time the waters were cooling and mending.
“What is happening…?” Mark thought as he was whisked away. The swirled around him but quickly began to boil then turn to scalding steam melting his skin and clothing away. Mark tried to scream but couldn’t the pain he felt was excruciating and was flickering in and out of consciousness. The steam condensed into whirling water once again and began to mend and heal Mark reforming his skin which was now blue in color and scaly in texture also his clothing was now new armor like equipment much to what his friends were wearing since their last meeting. The water began to crystallize on Mark freezing him to the touch. His whole body was covered in ice, then a light shown and he and the ice shattered.
Mark suddenly woke gasping, sweat drenched his clothing he looked around trying to catch his composure. He stood and walked to his mirror and looked at his reflection. His eyes widened in disbelief, “So it really wasn’t a dream.”
He stood there looking at his blue scale like skin and the new armor he wore, His underclothing was still wet from sweat, so Mark quickly closed his eyes and concentrated on the water from his clothing to evaporate. This time it came so naturally, his powers have finally matured. He no longer needed the guidance his familiars gave him when he tried to control water. He was now in control, he was now a god.
He walked out of his room to notice his friends there waiting for him. They smiled at him. Tamika spoke using her newfound wisdom, “Congratulations Mark, we are now ready to become a full fledged god. But before we do that we must now enter our home. The seas call for us and we must respond. What is your decision? ”
Mark looked at her understandably and nodded, “It is time then, lets us make our home in the sea. The waters are like our bodies we must nourish and care for it. Shall we get going??” The four of them nodded to each other understandably knowing what they needed to do, so left the house together to begin their life as the god of water.
