Organized Canine Bureau Special Agent
"This is goodbye too as well."
Gon faced Wells and offered to shake his hand.
"Exit muna si Polgas. Ang kailangan dito ay si Dobermaxx!"
THE SLORG!
Wells looked at Gon, and then his extended hand, with a raised eyebrow. "I still don't even know who you are, but goodbye I suppose," the lieutenant remarked, then shook Gon's hand.
You are reading this.
Library
Garrett stepped away from Gon and glanced around, to see if anyone else would say their goodbyes to him.
"...No one else, huh? Well, not like I've been going out of my way to make friends here."
He walked towards Miss Tairee's desk.
"I guess that's a farewell, then. Send me back."
THE SLORG!
Tester floated over to address Garrett. "Very well. Best of luck, master thief," the AI said with his synthetic voice, then his screens flashed rapidly. Garrett became pixelated for a moment, and then was gone.
You are reading this.
Organized Canine Bureau Special Agent
After Gon said his goodbyes, he went to see if anyone was at Ms. Tairee's desk.
"I'm ready to head back to Seoul... And take care of things I need to do ASAP."
"Exit muna si Polgas. Ang kailangan dito ay si Dobermaxx!"
THE SLORG!
"Affirmative," Tester said, and once again his screens started flashing rapidly.
"You have fun now!" Tset added in with a grin, waving goodbye at Gon before he also pixelated and vanished.
You are reading this.
After that, he was ready to go home. He walked over to Lieutenant Wells one last time and said: “It was a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant.” He offered his hand to shake his once he was done.
Herc then walked over to Miss Tairee: “Goodbye, Miss Tairee. Thanks for everything. I think we are ready to go.” He said to the librarian.
THE SLORG!
Wells gave Hercules a nod and returned the handshake; thankfully for the mortal man the nature of the day kept the demigod from hurting him even by accident. "You as well. It's not every day I get to meet a literal legend. Take care, son of Zeus," the lieutenant said.
After Hercules went to the central desks, Miss Tairee gave him a gentle smile. "You're welcome. If we ever meet again, it should be in much better circumstances, I think," she told him, as Tester's screens flashed rapidly again. Shortly after, Hercules became pixelated, then vanished back to his home universe as well.
You are reading this.
Darkness crawled across Garrett's field of view, and then, after a long instant, there was light.
...
...
...
THE CITY (this time, his own; ...sort of)
Garrett blinked a few times and looked around, hardly daring to believe he was here. But the cobblestones and the buildings were unmistakable, and so were the sounds and smells and the overall... ambience. Hell, there were shadows! Honest, proper shadows. And the illumination, instead of the hazy luminescence that permeated the Writer's city, was provided by same old boring streetlights.
This was it.
This was home.
Garrett suddenly realized that he was reflexively patting himself all over. Through the weeks, he'd developed a habit to automatically check for whatever insane transformation usually followed the darkening. But this was no longer necessary, was it? He'd never again have to worry about how many limbs he'll grow tomorrow.
He looked around, trying to figure out which district this was exactly. He quickly realized he was in Stonemarket, on a street located near Bertha's store. When was the last time he passed through here? He had visited Bertha to fence that beautiful, juicy opal, and then—
Garrett gripped his head. Memories came flooding in... in the form of two rivers. One was of that timeline, where he had stolen several Living Artifacts for the Keepers — at the Hag's secret behest, as he had later learned — and then had been snatched away by the Writer, before he could use the artifacts against the Hag. That river carried so much: eerie visions of the Kurshoks' sea palace; vivid recollections of the horrors of the Cradle...
...and at the same time... equally real... there was the second river. The one of this timeline.
* * *
In The Past...
The Library - A Quiet Spot
Garrett's situation, all in all, was enviable. For his role in the final battle, he had a wish from the Writer. For passing the Tester's challenge, he had a bonus reward: the option to get rid of the Hag, just like that. And on top of that, he could go back to any moment in the past.
It did not take him long to craft a beautiful plan. He'd get sent back to just the right time — late enough that Garrett can keep the riches from a couple of lucrative jobs — and ask Tester to have the Hag erased, but only as soon as Garrett appears back in his world. In this way, the Hag would be destroyed just before she really starts making trouble for him: before she frames Garrett for murder, before she massacres the Keepers and unleashes her golem army onto the city streets.
He would also request that only two people remember the events of the old timeline: inspector Drept (a Hammerite of some influence) and the Head Keeper himself. They would remember how Garrett (would have) helped them against the Hag... and so the thief would have two powerful people with a debt of gratitude to him.
All in all, very well thought out. And while he's at it, he might spend his wish on taking care of the restless ghosts that haunted the Cradle. It had been a pretty traumatic experience when he had entered that damned place. And even though it ended fairly well—he freed the trapped spirit of a little girl, nullified the magical connection that granted the Hag her disguise, and escaped the place sane and alive—he'd rest more easily, knowing that such a place no longer existed in his city.
But then, as he pondered on Tester's question... "Do you want the ghosts to be quelled upon your return, or have it that they were never agitated in the first place?"... there was a uneasy feeling in his heart.
Come to think of it... the Hag had been around for quite some time, hadn't she? And she did kill a lot of people in the meantime. Innocents... Children.
In particular, there was that murder years ago, in the Shalebridge Cradle orphanage. The Hag had snuck in, and murdered a little girl who was playing hide-and-seek with her friend. The Hag then magically stole the girl's body and face. In the disguise of a precocious child, she would later infiltrate the Keepers and manipulate them for her benefit. And meanwhile, for all these years... The little girl's ghost was trapped in the abandoned orphanage; the girl's friend was haunted with the memory of the murder, and as an adult he devoted himself to serving as a Hammerite lawman, just in a desperate hope of finding any clue about the killer. Years of suffering for these two. But, if he only revised his request a little bit...
Garrett grit his teeth... Tch, what were these thoughts? He must be really becoming sentimental...
"I... have changed my mind," he said to Tester.
"If you can do it... remove the Hag at a much earlier date. Years ago. Just before she can kill the girl... Lauryl.
"I don't care if I need to use the wish to do it. But if I don't... in that case, here's how I'll use my wish. Let the girl and her friend have a happy life in the Shalebridge Cradle. You know, make it so that the Shalebridge Cradle orphanage was never such a hellhole... that it was run by much better people, and nobody ever got the idiotic idea to combine it with a damn asylum... and that it never burned down, never became the charred haunted ruin it is now."
He sighed. From what he vaguely understood, that would be a rather big change. Maybe after his return he would find the city changed in some unfamiliar ways. But whatever... he can handle it.
There was a pause before beeps could be heard of Developer's response.
[Positive]: Surprisingly selfless for the man who has made a career for his own personal benefit. Very well, your request of when to remove the hag and the changes to the orphanage's history are acceptable. This will of course have ripple effects through time that would change what you understand as the present, including changing some of the people from how you know them, but I can see you're already anticipating that. I will of course ensure that these effects are not bad. As this would be much like the lamia's request but with a less extensive change, it would only be fair that you are offered the same choice as she; would you prefer to keep your memory as it is with the timeline that was, or have your memory changed to the different you, so that you would fit in naturally with the timeline that will be?
"Hmph. It would be a pain if I walked around with memories that no longer matched... How about you give me memories that fit the new—ah—timeline, but with a memory of all that has happened here, too."
[Positive]: Much like the lamia as well, then. Would you too like a taste of how you'll be different before you go back?
Garrett shook his head. "Nah. I'm sure I'll be able to handle it."
* * *
THE CITY
He was able to. Somewhat.
After a brief stop at his rooms (for he had a certain valuable object to hide there), he set off on an aimless trip through the streets, comparing reality with his outdated memories. Some things surely felt different. Certain buildings were just a tad cleaner. There were homes he didn't remember built, windows that shone warmer and friendlier than he recalled. The city was... not really more cheerful; but certainly a little less dismal.
Unfortunately, this extended to the lights. In this timeline, the city was generally better illuminated. Which meant less patches of darkness for Garrett to hide in. "I'm starting to doubt if that was the right choice...", he muttered.
Like a forgetful drunkard, he dug confusedly through his memories, trying to recall what was he (other-he?) last doing in this timeline. Most of his life's story was just like the old world; he had stolen much the same trinkets from the same dumb rich people, he lived in the same cheap room; but there were also major changes. One thing was for sure, in this timeline he was not embroiled in yet another quest to save the city from great peril. Tester had made good on his promise: Garrett couldn't recall ever hearing about the Hag in this timeline. The Keepers kept their distance, as usual, and were not trying to badger him into acquiring ancient artifacts, or hunting him after his being framed for murder. The clocktower he had originally toppled still stood and ticked happily away.
He headed over to the Shalebridge Cradle orphanage, to see how much it changed. He didn't stick around for long. It was bright, intact, alive and shining. But it also dredged up all-too-fresh memories, and he soon decided he'd better head back.
As he turned away from the building, a middle-aged couple left through the orphanage's gate, a sleeping child in their arms and brightness in their faces. They talked with each other in hushed, loving voices, and he caught the man's words as he addressed his companion: "Lauryl".
For a moment, Garrett stared after the couple. What kind of coincidence— ...well. Perhaps he had the Writer to thank for arranging that sentimental flourish.
"Maybe that whole damn nuisance was not totally useless, after all," he muttered as he looked at the departing couple.
At this point, that certain valuable object appeared in his mind. Resting beneath a loose floorboard in his rooms was the extra extra reward he received... the magical bag, full of impossibly valuable ancient books, that Miss Tairee had given him. It was a treasure that could give him excellent leverage with the Keepers, perhaps even the Hammerites if he'd ever need to propitiate those fanatics.
He grinned, and shrugged.
"...Well. At any rate, that makes it worth it, all right."
* * *
* * *
* * *
Farewell, Garrett
THE SLORG!
"Alright then," Wells said aloud, putting himself at a parade rest stance. "Send me home."
The man became briefly pixelated, then was gone...
It was refreshing to not only be home, but to be back within the clean and artisanal halls of the finest architecture of the Terran Empire. Though, Wells could do without the current politics that were ensuing. He was presently sitting for a questioning by a board of nobles and officers of the Royal Navy, in a large and opulent conference chamber. Behind him sat rows and rows of a murmuring audience, come to hear about this most shocking discovery.
With Wells' wish to return home with indisputable proof of the events of the city, that saw him arriving in his home universe with a highly advanced device holding a large multitude of holographic recordings. The metaphorical road to get the recordings recognized as legitimate and thus honored in Imperial historical records had been a hectic one, which had ultimately led to this conference. He waited as the board members were seated in front of him, then the man in the center, an admiral of the Royal Navy and high noble of the Empire, took a gavel and struck it on the table a few times. "Silence, please, silence," the admiral said, quieting down the audience. Then the admiral turned his gaze on Wells. "Mister Wells, lieutenant of the Royal Marines; your service records to the Empire are untarnished, though unremarkable... Until now. The board has reviewed many recordings in the device you delivered, though we suspect there is still much to see within it. The events it shows seem fantastic to the point of clear impossibility, yet the odds that you fabricated them seem near impossible as well, and there has yet to be any sign of them being manipulated or a forgery. Remind the board again, how it was you came to be in possession of this device."
Wells gave a nod. "Sir. Upon the end of our holding within the other dimension, the deity like entity responsible gave myself and a number of others each one wish. In part, it was as thanks for saving his assistant, and as an apology for subjecting us to his scheme. Possession of proof of the events was my own wish," he explained calmly. "You can see it for yourself in the records of the twenty ninth and thirtieth days."
"So we saw," said one of the others on the board, a noblewoman without rank in the Navy. "Evidently it was your desire to have the brave efforts of the 'militia' you formed be recognized within at least one universe?"
"That is correct," Wells replied simply.
"And that is a subject we have some curiosities about, mister Wells," the noblewoman went on, leaning forward over the table slightly to peer down at Wells. "You broke your military protocol and established and personally trained an armed force of men and women that you placed directly under your own command, with no oversight. These are severe offenses that would see you court marshaled, lieutenant."
"Under regular circumstances, yes. However, I acted based on the situation I was within, to do what I thought best for the general safety of everyone who had been placed within that dimension. I am aware that at times my judgement was in fact incorrect, but I believe the saying goes, history is a faithless teller whose cruel recourse to hindsight makes fools of its actors," Wells responded at length.
"Even with hindsight in consideration, there are aspects of your decisions that raise questions," the admiral cut in, tapping his fingers on the table. "Your insistence on absolute authority over the militia you formed, the fact that you didn't even entertain the idea of oversight above you, and the way that you moved forward with your plans even when others expressed objections to them."
"All were done in accommodation of the circumstances we were in, sir," Wells said, turning his attention back to the admiral. "We were told we would be there for no more than a month, and nearly every day brought new dangers that needed to be faced, or else there would be lots of needless suffering. I did not believe it would be enough time to form a fair system of government, and that attempting to do so to create oversight would be a large waste of effort in the face of the immediate threat we were under. Similarly, as most of my militia had civilian backgrounds, creating a proper organizational military structure seemed likely to me to just create confusion within their ranks. As for the objections, seeing as some of our hardships were caused not by our captor but rather by our fellow captives, I could not always assume that their objections were raised in good faith... I also recall some of the most outspoken objections being based on either hypothetical conjecture, or a belief that I would have my militia turn on the people we were defending; neither of which I had the time or interest in entertaining whilst we were still being threatened day by day."
The board members looked back and forth as they thought that over, and Wells could also hear the audience murmuring again behind him. Since things were still silent, he spoke again. "Had the circumstances been different, namely if I believed we were to be held there indefinitely, I would have made plans to have some form of more proper authority be established, as that would have been prudent for our safety and security in the long term. However in the short time we had, I believed, and I still currently believe, that my decision to ignore such an idea was the correct one... I also can't help but wonder what exactly is the concern of this board on the matter, when those decisions had no direct effect upon the Empire or even our entire universe."
One of the other board members, a head scientist of the Royal Navy, responded next. "Yet you wish for these events to be treated in our historical records as real. That they be given such significance whilst also suggesting that there should be no repercussions for them strikes as a bit hypocritical, does it not?" he pointed out. "Besides, the ramifications of the discoveries you made, should they be treated as the truth, are quite dire. They are in fact likely to have significant impact upon the Empire, and the universe by extension. The discoveries suggest that our universe exists simply as some kind of entertainment for those in other universes to enjoy."
Wells shook his head. "If it is decided that I should face a court marshal for my decisions, then so be it. As for the other matter, as I explained before, that is apparently a happenstance of how all universes exist with relation to each other. It is not how we were created nor what we were created for."
"Then we would exist just for the entertainment of those godlike entities you apparently discovered," the scientist replied.
Wells was silent for a few seconds as he thought about it. "... I was given the impression that it is the act of creating universes itself that those three entities enjoy, along with sharing their creations with each other. Not that they derive entertainment from the universes they create directly."
Then the admiral spoke back up. "But based on the discussion you had with a man who was apparently aware of our universe from outside of it, there is a, 'main character,' that exists within our universe? Someone who's life our universe seemingly revolves around?"
That got a lot more murmuring within the crowd, as Wells frowned a little, but kept his composure otherwise. "That is the impression I got at first too, sir. However, upon later discussions and contemplation, I realized that might not really be accurate."
The admiral raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate upon that, lieutenant?"
"Yes sir. I believe that it's true that this individual, James Hawkins, exists- or rather, that he will exist in the future, apparently. However, I do not think that our entire universe will be bending to his whims. It is more that he simply happens to be at the center of a rather noteworthy event, which from an outside observation, would make his point of view during the course of the event among the most compelling to follow; therefore, he would make an obvious choice to be the, 'main character,' of any entertainment made that tells of the event. Just as there was with significant persons in real events of our history in our past, and just as there will continue to be with other persons in events of our future beyond mister Hawkins' lifespan, I expect."
"... I see," the admiral muttered after another short pause. "I'm curious, lieutenant; in your opinion, what is it that should be done about James Hawkins?"
"Well, since he would not be committing any crime simply by existing, and the events he was supposed to go through might not happen anymore, I would say nothing. Perhaps the navy should keep an eye out to recruit him, as he evidently would become quite capable on board a ship, but other than that, I would say he should simply be allowed to live his life... It is instead the notorious pirate Nathaniel Flint that I would turn our current attention to, since he is alive at this present time. Now that we know how he is performing his infamous raids, and possibly where to find his, 'treasure planet'."
The noblewoman spoke back up then. "Ah yes, Captain Flint... Didn't you discover that apparently... He kills you?"
"It would seem that is how I was going to eventually die, had I not been taken by the Writer, yes," Wells answered, seemingly unbothered by that, but the murmuring of the crowd got louder again.
"Order please, order!" the admiral commanded, taking a gavel and tapping the tabletop to quiet the crowd again. He and the other board members looked back and forth at each other again, before looking back at Wells. "... The Royal Navy will be sending a force to see if this, 'treasure planet,' does in fact exist where your records suggest it does. Should it be there, then I think we could consider your records to be the truth. Until then, you will remain in Cydonia, lieutenant. This questioning is adjourned." The admiral tapped the gavel down one more time, then the board members stood and left, as the crowd started to disperse too.
Wells smiled to himself. Though he disliked the politics, he was confident that what he was told about his universe and its future was correct. That the planet was there, and that they would all see his record couldn't possibly be fake. Back in the city, the militia had gone through metaphorical hell and back again, along with all those heroes that Wells had met. He didn't know what would be happening with them all now, but he figured that many would be having trouble convincing anyone that what they went through really happened; that all of it would be for practically nothing in the end. Wells couldn't fix that for all of them in their universes, but he could see to it that at least in his own universe, their hardships would be remembered; that they wouldn't be for nothing. As he left the large building, he thought about the possibility of getting a small monument built for them somewhere.
Edited by FirockFinion on Aug 25th 2022 at 10:10:50 AM
You are reading this.
Elsewhere in the villa, there sitting on a chair alone, was the woman in question, Megara. She was seeming quite solemn, after all she hadn’t seen her love for a while, yes she knew that he was coming back at some point but the trouble was she didn’t know when he’d return and of course Meg being Meg wasn’t the sort of person to show her valuable side and that she was missing him she had in the past been through tougher things in life. Although on this occasion? Meg was allowed to worry a little bit about Hercules. She had been looking after Herc’s villa while he was gone, she hadn’t told anyone about what she had learnt about the Demi-god’s disappearance. Well, by anyone, it was basically Phil she wouldn’t be able to tell. While Phil was Herc’s trainer and did care about him deeply, it was doubtful that the satyr was going to believe a word that she said to him. I mean come on, another world, a god taking the son of Zeus away to who knows where? It would be too far fetched of a story to tell even if she knew it was true.
Suddenly she could hear rapid footsteps coming from outside, getting louder and louder and louder until at last they stopped at the door. It gave Meg a bit of a start because it was really unexpected and for the most part, it was just her, by her lonesome self. She was about to ask herself what all the commotion was until she heard a familiar voice then shout: “Meg! Your here!”
Megara almost immediately knew who that voice belonged to and sure enough, there stood Hercules himself, standing in the doorway to his very villa. And with that, she then darted towards Hercules, once she reached him she put her arms around him and got him in a hug which Herc returned the flavour once this happened. And they must have hugged for a good 10 seconds, they didn’t say anything, the rest just spoke for itself.
Once it was done, Megara pulled away from Herc, and he did the same, she was so overwhelmed with joy that again she couldn’t believe what she was even looking at or in this case who she was looking at that was making her so happy but she didn’t care that she was being slightly mushy in her case.
“Wonderboy.” Meg said: “You’ve come back. But how I-?” Although she would’ve been able to finish her question if it weren’t for Herc just calmly putting in his hands on her shoulders and just replying with in a reassuring tone: “It’s alright, Meg, it’s alright. It’s really me talking to you.”
Herc took his hands off her shoulders and then folded his arms together and just smiled back at her. Meg while still glad to see her lover still had questions to ask Hercules. “So what was it like? That other place you went to I mean?”
Oh, right, that. Hercules haven’t taken into consideration that he would have to explain his thoughts on the matter were to Meg but here goes: “Well I would say it was…it was…definitely a trying experience. I mean I dealt with creatures not like what I’ve seen before, met a couple of friends and…even though it was a trying experience I got through it just fine.”
Megara looked at Herc for a sec and then went: “Trying? Really? You come back after a week or so from another world where a deity has taken you away against your own will as it were and all you can take from that experience is just trying?”
Hercules was gobsmacked he didn’t know how to react to that one he was certainly flustered with that comment: “Um…well…uh..that is…uh…what I meant to say was-“ Megara then smiled at him and then laughed: “Don’t worry, Wonderboy, I’m just teasing you.” She told Herc in a reassuring tone, letting him know that she wasn’t serious with that statement.
“Wait you were teasing?” Herc then asked catching on that she was just playing around with him. “Uh I mean yes of course you were just teasing me.” Herc then said pretending that he knew what Meg meant by that statement even if he had no idea what she was talking about.
Meg could see that Hercules was trying to process her comment and she just chuckled knowing full well that he was lying but feeling that there was little point correcting him, just let him have this one. “Don’t worry about telling me the whole story. You can tell me in your own time. You just need to get back to basics, like protecting everybody around you. And it’s good that you are back. I’ve missed you so much.”
“And do you know what?” Hercules continued.
“What?” Megara asked in return.
“I never forgot about you, not for one moment while I was there. I always kept thinking of you, no matter what I did, no matter day, I always thought of you.”
And they both looked on smiling at each other, nothing else needed to be said, they were both content, they were together again and they sharing a beautiful moment. Until that moment’s silence was broken by a sudden voice outside: “HERC! WHERE ARE YA?! WE STILL HAVE TRAINING TO DO! HERC!”
Almost immediately Hercules and Megara broke out of their little reunion to realise who was yelling outside. It was Phil.
“Ah no I forgot about Phil!” Hercules groaned in realisation it wasn’t just Meg who was missing him. And the last time he saw Phil was him being used as a distraction to lure away the fangirls that were hounding him before he went to the city.
“But that means our reunion-“ Hercules was about to say but Meg understood the situation and just simply finished the sentence with: “Will have to wait until you and goat boy sort out your training.” She said with an all knowing smile.
At that Herc just chuckled at that statement knowing what she meant by that: “Yeah. I guess some things never change.” And with that he rushed out of the villa, following the sound of Phil’s voice as the satyr was still calling out for the Demi God, probably wanting to know why he was gone for quite a while but it wouldn’t matter to Hercules one bit. Because he knew that he was back where he belonged and knowing that other adventures up on the horizon for him for days and days to come.
Edited by TheStarscream759 on May 6th 2022 at 2:27:59 PM
THE SLORG!
Heavy thumps heralded the approach of the space marine Brother Marcus towards the central desks. With the knowledge that being harmed today was impossible, and that next they would be sent home far beyond his possible retribution, there had been a good number of mostly non-human individuals taking their opportunity to air their grievances with the astartes, or simply hurl insults at him. Brother Marcus had been... Calmly taking it in stride, and even offering simple apologies to many of them, albeit not very heartfelt. Now that it seemed that was over and done with, he made his way over to speak with the assistants of the Creative Trio, though he did eye Tester a bit warily.
"Greetings, servants of our... Hosts. I have questions for you," Brother Marcus said to them. "On one of our previous days here, I became aware that another person here evidently had their entire universe consumed, by something not too dissimilar to the forces of Chaos... I can't help but wonder, how many other universes face similar threats to my own?"
"Threats that have parallels to Chaos? Too many to even get into," Tset replied, with a mild shrug. "But there's also universes that aren't just facing something similar to Chaos; they're facing Chaos just like yours."
Brother Marcus was a little taken aback at such news, but remained mostly stoic. "... Explain," the space marine requested simply, though firmly in tone.
"Well it's quite simple, really. Writer, Director, and Developer have all made their own versions of your universe; multiple of them, in fact, to explore different takes on it," Tset began, then raised his hands and put on a bit of a spooky narrator tone. "In the grim darkness of the forty first millenium, there is only war. Anyway, with a few exceptions, they're all similar enough to each other that we could probably return you to any of them and you'd be hard pressed to notice anything was different."
"I see..." Brother Marcus pondered that for a bit, contemplating the idea that his universe, his Imperium of Man, was just one of several identical ones. "Tell me, you can allegedly see into our futures, can you not? What is the fate of these universes?" the space marine asked after thinking that over.
"Oh, well uh..." Tset trailed off, and glanced to Tester.
Tester was silent, a few of his screens flashing rapidly briefly, before he started to speak at length. "... Chaos is ultimately victorious. Though other factions make various advancements in an attempt to stave it off, including the Imperium creating an improved variant of space marines as you encountered two days ago, ultimately nothing can overcome the all-encompassing nature of the Chaos Gods. Even actions taken against them still provide at least one of them with strength, which means that bringing about their ultimate downfall is impossible; the Emperor may have been capable of it in his prime, but not in his dying state on the Golden Throne."
Brother Marcus' gaze slowly lowered, and his fists clenched. He didn't want to believe that what the AI said was true, but the space marine felt that he should know better; the day's mental effects in particular made it easier for logical thought and reason to cut through the astartes' indoctrination, as he reminded himself of what he already knew of Chaos. He looked over, a bit across the lobby, to where a certain Lamia was sitting. "I've heard that these wishes we're being given, they can be used to entirely change our universes? Make it so they are not and never were so... Dire. Could I use mine to do the same with all the universes that are like my own?" Brother Marcus then asked, looking back at the assistants.
Tset had an uncertain look on his face, then flipped open his phone as he got a text. "Sorry pal, no can do. They'd let you do that with your specific universe alone, but not all of the forty-k ones," the assistant answered, shaking his head. "The bosses don't want to change all of them that drastically."
Brother Marcus lowered his head a bit again, now in dismay, and tried to think. Was there nothing he could do about this multiple-universe-spanning conflict with the forces of Chaos? It didn't seem like it... Unless...
"... Perhaps, a compromise then," Brother Marcus suggested, raising his head. "Not a change to fully alleviate our conflict; nor even something that would guarantee our victory. Simply something that would allow us the chance of victory; make it so Chaos cannot be unbeatable under all circumstances."
There was a brief silence, then Tester's screens started flashing as he spoke. "They have agreed to this idea, on one condition."
"They already agreed?" Brother Marcus wondered, with a raised eyebrow.
"It was much longer for them than it was for us," Tester explained simply.
"Ah, yes. Well, what is the condition?" Brother Marcus then asked.
"Rather than being allowed to choose when and where you will return in your universe, you will be returned to a place and time more pertinent to the change being done," Tester elaborated.
Brother Marcus blinked a few times. "That is all? Very well, I accept."
Tset checked something on his phone, then gave the astartes a nod. "Alright then, we'll send you home... You might want to prepare for battle, space marine," the assistant remarked. Brother Marcus silently nodded, and drew his chainsword and bolt pistol. Tset tapped a couple buttons on his phone, then there was a cut in the air where Brother Marcus was, and he was gone...
Brother Marcus blinked to clear his eyes, then swung his chainsword up to block a chainaxe that was coming down towards his head. As he deflected the blow, he quickly assessed his sudden opponent, a Chaos space marine, shouting angrily and incomprehensibly. Not that Brother Marcus cared what the heretic had to say, as the follower of the dark gods continued to swing again and again, forcing the Ultramarine back as he continued parrying the blows. Finally, the Chaos space marine over committed to a downward swing, which Brother Marcus redirected to the side and then stepped in close, punched the barrel of his bolt pistol into the eye of the heretic's helmet, and pulled the trigger.
With the traitor's head exploded inside his helmet, Brother Marcus was able to finally take stock of the situation he found himself in, though he immediately did not like it. There was a battle going on between his brethren Ultramarines and Chaos forces, though it was the place they were battling that was most upsetting. He recognized these halls; he'd walked in them before. This was none other than the home world of his chapter, Macragge, beset by traitorous heretics and their daemon ilk; even worse, the battle seemed to be going poorly, as the followers of the dark gods were moving in force. The astartes felt angry; wasn't this the opposite of what he had wished for? He quietly cursed the names of the Writer, Director, and Developer, but he did not give up. He was one of the bulwark against the terror, a defender of humanity, a space marine, and he would know no fear.
With a zealous roar, Brother Marcus fired his jump pack and entered into the fray, joining his brothers to fight back against the traitors. Unfortunately, even though he fought with all the strength he could muster, it was still a losing battle. After hours of melee, after seeing brothers beside him cut down, he knew he was nearing his end, though he continued to fight as bravely as ever. The latest in a series of opponents came to meet him blade to blade, but this was no mere Chaos space marine; it was a champion of the heretic forces, probably a counterpart to one of the company captains of the loyalists. This elite warrior met each of Brother Marcus' blows with greater skill, forcing him on the back foot and wearing him down moment by moment. Finally, the Chaos champion knocked Marcus' chainsword away, and as if in slow motion, the Ultramarine could see the blow that would be the death of him swinging towards him, to take off his head.
Yet oddly, Brother Marcus felt a warming comfort passing over him, and a sensation of the Emperor's might that he never had before. By the time he realized that the glowing light descending upon him was not simply his imagination, a large sword swung into his view from his periphery, hitting the Chaos champion and cleaving through him as if his power armor was mere paper. So mighty was the blow that what was left of the heretic, as well as his weapon, were sent crashing into his fellow traitors behind him.
Brother Marcus turned his head, and inside his helmet, his eyes widened in wonder at what he saw. There was a magnificent radiance around the massive figure that only the mighty sons of the Emperor held, for indeed, it was one of his sons. None other than Brother Marcus' own gene-father primarch, Roboute Guilliman, who last Brother Marcus had known, was trapped in stasis to prevent his imminent death from an incurable poison wrought by the forces of Chaos. For him to be here, alive and well, was a miracle, it was... Marcus realized it must be his wish at work, and he also understood why he was not returned to where he'd left from, halfway across the galaxy from this place. The primarch moved with a purpose towards the traitors, his sword held high.
"Fight, sons of Ultramar!" Roboute Guilliman bellowed, his voice resonating psionically as well as reverberating off the walls around him. "With courage and honor!"
Brother Marcus could feel his strength renewed ten times over as his brothers rallied around him. He quickly retrieved his chainsword, then once again fired his jump pack to leap into the fray, screaming valiantly in sync with his brothers as he flew past his primarch, "FOR THE EMPEROR!"
It is the forty second millennia.
For eleven thousand years, the Imperium of Man has struggled against foes from without and within.
Cruel xenos races besiege their worlds in countless number.
Terrifying Chaos gods and their corrupted followers tear at the very souls of mankind.
A wound upon reality itself tore the galaxy in two, leaving half of humanity without the light of their Emperor.
But even now, brave men and women of the Imperium continue to fight.
Mankind will not go gently into the night.
They rage against the dying of the light.
For in the grim darkness of the far future, despite the aliens that would see them broken, despite the dark gods that would consume their souls, despite an uncaring universe that hates them for refusing to simply lay down and die...
There is hope for humanity still, however slim it may be.
Edited by FirockFinion on May 25th 2022 at 4:06:54 AM
You are reading this.
THE SLORG!
Things were quieting down with more people leaving, and in the calm, Silanea got up from the couch and slithered over to Tset. "The ghostly gentlemen was reluctant to explain to me. What about the change to me or my world could be sad, do you think?" the Lamia wondered.
"If I had to guess? Hm..." Tset trailed off, rubbing at his chin. "Could be a sense that the Silanea he knew would be gone, essentially dead in a way, even," he then guessed, making a mild shrug.
"I see... In a way, I think I agree with that," Silanea said, with a little nod of her head. "The things she went through, which I don't even fully remember the worst of... I couldn't imagine myself having the strength to get through that the way she did."
Tset shook his head. "Rest assured, you are still her; just a version of her that had a different life, that's all. She never would have thought she was strong enough to pull through either, but she did. Granted, it was mostly because she had to or die, but that's not the point. If you were forced through the same thing, you'd be able to make it, just like she did."
Silanea lowered her head, contemplating it, but had a slight frown. "Still, to wash over her accomplishments and just make that version of me not exist anymore; it doesn't feel right," the Lamia commented, shaking her head.
"It's what she wants. It's what you wanted," Tset pointed out with a soft smile on his face. "You said yourself that this will all be better off when you're home. Plus it's not like what she went through will be completely forgotten everywhere. She just wanted to be able to live without that pain anymore. She wants to be you."
Silanea thought for a little longer, then nodded, and looked up. "Then... Yes, having the strength to see it through is the least I could do," she decided, relaxing herself a bit. "Then please, I am ready to go home."
Tset nodded, then flipped his phone open and tapped the buttons a few times. There was a cut through the air where Silanea was, then she was gone...
Silanea appeared in her room, which was nicely furnished, with a large, circular bed. She looked around the familiar room, wondering just how much of that dream was real. She slithered to the door and opened it, exiting to a hall that led to an outdoor area with a roof covering the path through to another house, all part of the Asharsha estate. Silanea went to the outdoor area and looked around, seeing the well dressed form of her mother sitting on one of their garden benches. The older Lamia had her head and shoulders slumped low, in a mournful posture.
"Mother?" Silanea called out, feeling a little hesitant.
Akyaliha raised her head and turned to look, an astonished expression of disbelief on her face. Almost immediately it was overtaken with tear striken joy, and she quickly slithered over to her daughter. "Silanea!" the older Lamia cried, quickly pulling her daughter into a hug. "Where have you been? It has been a whole month!"
Silanea blinked in surprise a few times, as she considered what that meant for her situation here. It immediately answered whether or not the strange experience was real, which was itself a bit comforting, but also strange and a little worrying at the same time. "I'm... I'm not sure if you'd believe me, mother," Silanea responded as she returned the hug.
"Not believe you?" Akyaliha said, a bit confused, loosening the hug enough to look at Silanea's face. "Why would I ever not believe my daughter?"
"Because... It evidently involves divine intervention, that changed our whole world without anyone knowing it," Silanea explained, deciding a bit reluctantly to go ahead and try the truth first. Akyaliha cocked her head with an expression of both confusion and concern, so Silanea decided to add, "for the better, though."
Then, another voice spoke out, approaching from elsewhere in the gardens. "Lady Asharsha? Are you speaking with somebody?" a woman asked, then shortly stepped into view from around some hedges. Silanea and Akyaliha both turned, and the younger Lamia's eyes widened slightly and her brow went up as she saw the now-familiar albino human, dressed in the robes of the Vusluoran magic college. Valentina blinked a few times, looking fairly surprised herself. "Is that, your daughter?"
"Yes! She returned rather abruptly, I must say," Akyaliha answered, the immense relief still evident in her tone.
"Yes, it was um..." Silanea trailed off, then turned to her mother, as she just had to ask, "what is someone from the college of magic doing here?"
"We couldn't find out how you had gone, so we called upon the college for assistance," Akyaliha told her, in a tone as if that were obvious.
"Indeed, though we were not able to find anything either. No method of tracking, traditional or magical, could make any sense of where you had gone," Valentina commented, and raised an eyebrow. "So just what happened to you?"
"She claims it was the work of the divines," Akyaliha answered for Silanea, turning back towards Valentina. "And that her disappearance was only a part of it."
Valentina was silent for a moment, looking at Akyaliha, then glancing at Silanea, then back to Akyaliha. "... Ordinarily I'd have much doubt about that, but seeing as no other explanation can fit with our complete lack of findings, I'll consider it suitable enough for now," the sorceress said, and walked a bit closer to the two. "Though if that is the case, then you know we must insist she come to the college so that we may learn more about this occurrence."
Akyaliha rose up a bit straighter in response. "My daughter, heir of the Asharsha family, has been gone for a month, and you would take her away from me just as cruelly!?" the older Lamia asked rhetorically, her tone not outright angry, but definitely very protective.
Valentina raised her hands slightly, while also bowing her head a little. "I did not mean right away, Lady Asharsha. I'm sure a day or two for her to recover from what she's been through will be acceptable; though under such extraordinary circumstances, her presence at the college will be required in not too much time." With that explanation, Valentina returned to her normal stance. "And before you invoke your title, my lady, I am quite certain the king would agree with the college on this matter."
Akyaliha held her tongue, since she knew Valentina was right, but it was obvious that the Lamia did not like it. "It is alright mother, I am perfectly well," Silanea said, putting a hand to her mother's arm in a comforting gesture. "For me, the experience did not seem as long."
Akyaliha did look a little eased, but still unhappy in a more somber way. "But it seemed far, far too long for me, Silanea," her mother muttered quietly, lowering her head for a moment, before looking back at Valentina. "Please, give me a day with my daughter returned to me. She will come visit the college tomorrow," the Lamia requested, almost pleading in her tone.
Valentina bowed her head again. "Very well, Lady Asharsha," the sorceress said, then departed. Akyaliha turned back to Silanea, and quickly pulled her into another hug...
After arriving at the college, Silanea had been directed to Valentina's personal study room, which was a large room cluttered with many books, scrolls, scribbled notes, and magical odds and ends. It had a relatively clear space between some of the tables where a few comfortable chairs were arranged on top of a rug, with a short table between. On the short table was a tea set, and a platter of small sandwiches.
Silanea explained, as she did to her mother the previous day, about the City and the Writer and what had allegedly happened with the change to their own history as a result of it. Valentina listened, her expression a bit skeptical, but did not raise any doubts verbally; she only asked the occasional question for clarification.
When the explanation was finished, Valentina tapped her fingers on the armrest. "That is all very interesting to consider if true, but there is one thing you have not yet explained, miss Asharsha," the sorceress said.
"And, that is?" Silanea replied, a little confused, since she thought she had covered all the relevant and important information.
"You say that our history was changed, and that you were given glimpses of what what had occurred in our world before the change," Valentina started, then looked directly at Silanea with a slightly more serious expression. "So, what was my role in this 'previous history'?"
"Your role?" Silanea repeated, feeling a bit caught off guard.
"I saw the look you gave me yesterday at your home, miss Asharsha. You looked quite surprised to see me, which is understandable, but it also looked as if you knew who I was; despite the fact that I am quite certain the two of us have never been acquainted," Valentina explained in response, shifting her elbow onto the armrest, and leaning forward. "At least, not in this current history. So why don't you tell me about what the other version of me got up to. It might make your story a bit more believable if you did."
Silanea looked down at the platter of little sandwiches, and twiddled her fingers together for a bit. "... You are Lady valentina, of the house of Rema, correct?" the Lamia then asked quietly, as she looked back at the sorceress.
Valentina raised an eyebrow. "Almost. I am miss Valentina, of the house of Rema. My older sister is the Lady of the house of Rema," she replied.
Silanea glanced back at the platter of sandwiches, then sighed. "Alright... I must preface that I do not know everything, but I suppose I will be honest about what I do know..."
...
After Silanea's second explanation was finished, Valentina was sitting back, one eyebrow still raised, but her expression otherwise a little disturbed and unsettled. "So, in this 'previous history', I am Lady of the house of Rema. I am also a powerful sorceress, and I am... Evil?"
"I don't know if, 'evil' is the right word," Silanea replied, with a sympathetic expression.
"You said I had ordered the slaughter of an entire village, down to the children," Valentina said, a bit dry in her tone. "I would say that it is."
Silanea thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Extreme, yes, but it is my understanding that you did not do it out of pure malice. You were following the orders of your king; it was him who decreed all the Lamia to die, for reasons he thought was just, under the light of the different circumstances. I think you also believed the actions to be just, in the grand scheme of things. Besides, if you had not carried it out, someone else would have."
Valentina sighed, and looked over at one of her cluttered tables, not at anything in particular, but the mess of clutter in general. "Still, I would like to believe that I would not have it in me to do such a thing," the sorceress muttered, frowning slightly. After a moment, her expression turned a bit more understanding, and she looked back at Silanea. "Though I suppose even I must admit, if my sister were to die in such a traumatizing way, it most certainly would have a severe impact upon my disposition."
Silanea said nothing, and just nodded solemnly.
They both sat in silence for almost a minute, then finally, Valentina pushed herself up from her chair. "Well miss Asharsha... Silanea, it's going to take me a long while to get all that together in a report for the king to read."
"I wouldn't blame you if you want to leave out what I told you of... You," Silanea said sympathetically as she got up from her chair.
Valentina shook her head. "I would not knowingly leave out such things, not even to protect myself. I will make do, no matter what may come of it."
Silanea moved over to the sorceress, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Valentina, you are not guilty of the things the other version of you did."
Valentina shook her head again. "I know I am not. That is not why," the sorceress said, and moved over to one of the cluttered tables to find some quill and parchment. "Our business here is concluded for now. The high mages would like to run some tests; see if they can find any magic traces left upon you, that sort of thing. The aide outside will lead the way."
Silanea bowed her head, and left the room.
A grand banquet was being held among the nobility, and even though they were among the latest noble houses to be added, Akyaliha and Silanea were invited the same as any other noble. There was food, there was drinks, and there was much much mingling out on the large, open floor. Silanea followed her mother closely as they idly wandered through the party, both looking around.
Silanea stopped when she spotted some familiar faces, and placed a hand on her mother's arm. "There he is, mother. That is the knight." Akyaliha stopped as well, and looked the same way as her daughter's gaze. There a little across the room was Sir Tristen, in formal attire, standing with his wife, Lady Amelia, who was similarly in a formal dress. Amelia was holding their young son in her arms. In front of those two was mister Cleyo, dressed up in the attire of a rich merchant; Tristan and Cleyo were in the middle of a friendly looking discussion, both pausing for the occasional bout of laughter.
"Sir Tristen, yes. I've met him briefly before," Akyaliha said, raising an eyebrow. "I wouldn't say I know him well, but it's still hard for me to imagine him killing me."
"You weren't a noble in that time, mother. You weren't even a subject of the kingdom in any rightful sense," Silanea reminded her.
"Well yes, I suppose," Akyaliha agreed, a little dismissively. "Were his wife and that middle class merchant also part of this other time?"
"Yes, his wife Lady Amelia supported him as a skilled archer. The merchant is mister Cleyo, though in the other time he was a thief," Silanea explained.
"A thief?" Akyaliha asked, taken aback. "They worked with a thief?"
"I think Cleyo and Tristan were some kind of friends in their youth, and they recruited him for his skills," Silanea replied, with a mild shrug.
"Well they're certainly friendly with each other now," Akyaliha noted, watching the two men start laughing again in their own discussion. The older Lamia made a subtle glance around to see if anyone was close enough to be eavesdropping, then leaned over to her daughter to ask quietly, "you don't suppose he may still be a thief in this time as well?"
"I truthfully do not know, mother," Silanea said, shaking her head.
Akyaliha let out a "hmph," and stood back up straight. "Not that it matters much now. So, did you want to go talk with them?"
Silanea thought for a moment. "... If it's all the same to you, mother, I would prefer to not have their acquaintance in this time," she answered, glancing up at her mother.
Akyaliha regarded her daughter for a moment, then reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle, assuring squeeze. "If that is what you desire, Silanea, then so be it," the older Lamia said with a smile.
"Thank you, mother," Silanea said with her own smile, squeezing her mother's hand back for a moment. Akyaliha let go then, and turned as another noble approached them to discuss some political matter. Silanea stayed next to her mother, but the younger Lamia turned her attention away, looking across the crowd of mostly humans. She thought about what this would be like, for the other version of her that had suffered so greatly. Silanea thought that, it would make her happy, wouldn't it? This peace and partnership between different races that she had strived and wished for so strongly, before everything in her life had gone wrong.
... No, even after that, she still kept striving for it, hadn't she? In the city made by the Writer, even when her frustration with humans reached a boiling point, she still didn't intend any violence upon them. She just wanted them to stop treating herself and others with mistrust and fear.
So yes, this kind of peace was what the other Silanea had always wanted. The current Silanea thought that it would make her very happy.
It did make her happy. Silanea smiled and closed her eyes, lowering her head slightly as she felt so grateful for her life as it was.
Edited by FirockFinion on Aug 8th 2022 at 12:07:27 PM
You are reading this.
Organized Canine Bureau Special Agent
Gon made it back to the safehouse after he stepped out of the portal.
Wonder if the things are still here?
To his surprise, the Tokarev TT-33 that was taken after he got nabbed was still in the safehouse.
Good. Time for the next step.
The next day, Gon rigged up the safehouse with explosives as a distraction when he made an emergency call to the police.
After raiding the Ventura Holdings building by himself and killing off Alvaro and Juan, Gon and Chaoz found themselves fighting to the death.
Despite having an injury on the right arm, Gon relentlessly used each and every weapon he can use to distract Chaoz during their fights in close quarters. During the fight, Gon was forced to drop one of the HK MP5Ks he pilfered in the fight with the two previous mercenaries, although he gave the Benelli M3 to Mo-gyeong as a self-defense weapon.
With the water sprinklers used by Gon firing at them, he allowed himself some time to hide and wait while Chaoz is forced to hunt for him by clearing each and every nook and cranny one of VH's computer rooms.
"Where the fuck is he?" The Asian-American mercenary gritted his teeth while clearing the room all over again.
"Hey."
Chaoz turned around and saw that Gon was somehow right behind him. He fired the MP 5 K he got from the floor before Chaoz can fire his.
Mo-gyeong entered the room after hearing the shots.
["Don't shoot! I'm a friendly!"] Gon shouted after he raised his hands up since the M3 was leveled at his direction.
["Oh..."] The risk management employee lowered the shotgun.
["I still intend to keep my promise... I haven't said anything about what happened to your daughter before she died..."]
The woman nodded. Gon reached towards her to take the shotgun.
["But before that... I need to take care of someone."]
["But how..."]
["I'll find you. Mo-gyeong."]
Gon reached for the nearest elevator and left, gripping the MP5K and M3.
As the elevator door closed with the lift heading to the basement parking, the Korean-American had one person in mind to go after.
You're next, Dai Ban.
THE SLORG!
Eventually, the last people still hanging on went off back to their home universes, or to different universes. "Go and have a good life!" Tset told the last person out as a cut appeared where they were standing, then they vanished. Only the three assistants remained, along with the silent presence of their omnipresent bosses.
"Shall we get going now?" Tester half asked, half suggested, as he floated back over to the central desks.
"Not much reason to stick around," Tset replied with a nod, then turned his head. "Right, Tairee?"
Miss Tairee sat with an elbow leaning on the desk, and her chin rested in her hand, as she looked down at the empty coffee mug. "... I think I'll stay around a little longer," she replied after a pause, idly rubbing a finger back and forth on the outside of the mug.
"Are you certain, Miss Tairee?" Tester asked in response.
Miss Tairee nodded, still looking down at the mug. "I'd just... Like to think for a while," she said, then looking up at her two friends and giving them a small smile.
Tset raised an eyebrow, then turned and looked out at the empty lobby, and beyond that through the glass walls to the empty city beyond. "... Ah, I get it," he muttered, turning back and giving Miss Tairee a simple smile in return; not the usual somewhat smug grin he usually held. "A lot of stuff happened here, didn't it? It may have only been thirty days, but given who was brought in, there was always something going on, wasn't there?" It may have been phrased as a question, but Tset knew the answer, and Miss Tairee only responded with a little nod. Tset closed his eyes and shrugged, while making an amused noise. "Come on Tester, let's go," the cinematic themed assistant said, placing a hand on the server rack that was Tester like one would the shoulder of their good buddy.
"Yes, I understand," Tester agreed, then his screens flashed rapidly. Tset raised his free hand and waved goodbye to Miss Tairee, as Tester's screens all changed to different animated waving hand emoticons. Miss Tairee waved back, then the two other assistants both became pixelated, and vanished.
Miss Tairee stayed silent for a few moments, then spoke into the air. "I know I can't force any of you to leave, especially given what happened. I would just like to ask that you observe silently, and leave me to my own thoughts." In response, there was the sound of someone taking a pen and writing on paper, then Writer's words appeared to her.
"Of course. Let us know when you are done."
Content with that, Miss Tairee regarded the empty lobby for a while, then slowly looked down at one of the drawers of her desk. She opened it and reached inside, taking the bracelet device and slipping it on her wrist. With a simple flick, a holographic screen and keyboard were projected in front of her, and she started typing on the keyboard at a relatively casual pace. When she finished a few minutes later, she blurred for a moment. Nothing changed about her visually, but she was able to start recalling through her memories and the past of the city as a whole, and see them in visions in front of her...
The first day seemed so long ago now. The only day in this place that could be called a normal day, which she spent trying to explain to those brought here, as much as she was allowed to, about what was going on and what they should expect. As she expected, many of them started to view her with suspicion, but that didn't stop them from requesting things from her for them. She smiled at the vision of the stacks of pizza boxes, and shook her head as the visions continued with several people reacting negatively to the pizza that was topped with live spiders.
Unfortunately, Miss Tairee knew that would be one of the only days she could look back at positively, except for the 'break' days. The second day wasn't so bad, with her own most significant memory being explaining that Writer's challenges would probably be including 'boss' fights towards the end of many of the days, and if not those, then some other sort of challenge to test the capabilities and decisions of the captured inhabitants.
Then the third day... That accursed day, and the first that Miss Tairee didn't spend in the city. She could still see into the past of the city without her own memories, seeing how first everyone seemed to enjoy the day. That was, until they started to realize that the temperature would not stop dropping, and the snowfall only became worse and worse, until surviving outside without some significant protection became impossible. It still brought tears to her eyes to see the suffering it caused, and she had to wipe her eyes before she continued.
The fourth day marked the first day that the Writer put up some significant stakes in his challenge. To make it even more interesting, he also wanted the dragon to capture a 'princess', and who else to play the part but Miss Tairee herself? Thankfully the heroes among the captured inhabitants managed to succeed at the task- despite falling for one of the dragon's traps and having multiple of them incinerated in a flaming cloud bank.
Then the fifth day, and first of the break days. It had started off promising. Miss Tairee rather enjoyed being a kid again; she could hardly even remember how long ago she had last made herself younger and grown up- it made her think that she should go ahead and do that again very soon. Despite the promising start though, the day had turned a bit frustrating as people kept making requests for food and generally not treating her with any trust. Well, frustrating at the time; looking back on it now, it almost felt amusing again.
Miss Tairee paused a moment in her recollection, looking outside at the city at large. After thinking for a moment, she slowly walked through one of the revolving doors, and started walking down the middle of the street, away from the library. As she walked, she started thinking back to the previous days again.
The sixth day was rather frustrating for Miss Tairee to start with, not being able to speak, and being forced to use an old fashioned typewriter on top of that. Adding more insult to that, it was the first day that damned Old Feather Beak really started his schemes. She wondered if the comedic tones of the day brought any amusement to anyone else; she watched the visions of speeding book-cars slamming into people trying to cross the streets, sending them flying away at ridiculous speeds, yet amusingly unharmed.
The seventh day wasn't so bad for Miss Tairee, personally. She was normal and had her computer back, and the theme was one that wasn't too unfamiliar to her, she thought to herself as she saw the visions of the tall buildings and the decrepit, cyberpunk aesthetic city. That said, she knew the day was particularly hard and bad for a lot of other people though, especially as that daemon's machinations continued.
The eighth day though, was one of Miss Tairee's least favorites. Her own goal of helping Mary got twisted against her... Also she became the zergling that killed her, which wasn't great either. She thought to herself that at least it ended up working out in the end, sort of, as she watched the visions of inhabitants turned animals passing by on the street.
The ninth day was particularly harsh, but at least Miss Tairee got the personal satisfaction of delivering a deadly blow to that daemon. Still, the visions of the shambling hordes of undead and undead-like things massing in the streets was rather unsettling...
As Miss Tairee thought about the tenth day, she found herself at the city's edge, looking out at the vision of it turned into a beach and a pleasant ocean. She saw herself lounging in the sun, as she had spent much of the day, until the challenge was completed and the cinema was created. It was a fun diversion getting to go there and watch a movie with some of the inhabitants. Plus it gave her that idea to give everyone in the city pleasant dreams, which was very satisfying to do.
Miss Tairee then started to walk along the edge of the city, staring inward at the buildings she was passing by, and the visions of the next few days she thought about.
The eleventh day didn't seem all that bad, Miss Tairee thought. People had some trouble moving around, but it could've been a lot worse. Plus, she got to punch a giant golem lobster with a punch of infinite strength. Surprisingly, it wasn't among her top personal accomplishments in the city, but it was still fun to look back on.
Miss Tairee had to pause though, frowning deeply as she saw visions of the twelfth day. That damned twelfth day, where the daemon's machinations reached a boiling point and Miss Tairee had to beg Writer to take the daemon out of the city. She lowered her head and sighed, thinking if only she had managed to convince Writer to take it easier from then on.
After a bit, Miss Tairee started walking again, moving on with her visions as well to the thirteenth day. That was the second day she had to stay out of the city entirely, and of course it wasn't exactly a good day for everyone in the city either, though overall she'd rate it still better than the twelfth.
Then there was the fourteenth day, which was actually overall a pretty chill day as far as Miss Tairee was concerned. It hurt her a bit to have to pretend she didn't care about the previous day that much, but otherwise it wasn't all that bad of a day. The city had a hospital as of that day, which to Miss Tairee seemed perhaps redundant given she could instantly heal even the most grievous injuries and diseases at the library. Though, it was certainly better than having no other alternative, especially for those times she wasn't available.
The fifteenth day was a bit silly in Miss Tairee's own opinion, but she couldn't complain about another break day. Plus, she thought back to all the interacting with various inhabitants she got to do on that day, and how much she connected with some of them. It brought a smile to her face as she stopped walking, turning and looking out at the sky beyond the edge of the city for a while.
Eventually, Miss Tairee turned back to the city again, and started wandering down the street in front of her, aiming for nowhere in particular as her memories went over the next few days.
The sixteenth day was a bit dangerous, and was the first day that those egotistical hunters started making their moves. In addition to that, there were a number of rather dramatic things going on with the inhabitants that Miss Tairee tended to interact with the most. Seeing the visions of the things they had been going through on those days were upsetting to see again. Miss Tairee knew it would get worse, but at this point she was determined to see it through.
The seventeenth day was one of those non break days that Miss Tairee could look back on a bit fondly. She brought up her holographic screen and keyboard again to type on while she walked, and the little figurine that was made for her at the end of the day appeared in front of Miss Tairee with a blur. She took it and looked at it with a smile, while casually dismissing the hologram again.
Miss Tairee then thought to the eighteenth day, where she was made tiny and given a bunch of Terran 'toys' to have command over. At the time she found the idea of making her use them a bit cliche, but she couldn't deny they were rather handy. Especially as they let her directly help with the day's challenge, as well as the next day's.
Speaking of the nineteenth day, thinking back to that one made Miss Tairee frown. Giving the inhabitants a day that seemed like a normal, harmless day only for it to be a trick and throw an entire alien invasion at them? She didn't feel bad at all for stepping in to help handle the final challenge.
Then she thought of the twentieth day. She got to spend the day hanging out with Tester and Tset, while Writer actually was in the city in 'person', finally interacting with many of the inhabitants directly. Of course they wanted to express their own frustrations with him, and of course, it didn't really help.
Miss Tairee took another pause in her walking, looking around at where the city shifting had brought her. Around her she could see the hospital, the cinema, the arcade, and the buffet. She wondered to herself about how much these buildings around her had helped everyone in the long run. She started to wander again, passing those buildings by as she started to think forward again.
The twenty first day's conditions honestly didn't mean much for Miss Tairee herself, becoming Kerrigan. Plenty of others found it inconvenient, and especially strange for those who changed genders. Those Writer-worshiping folks, specifically the ones who turned violent and extremist, started really trying to step up their actions on that day, with the raid on the prison coming to mind in particular.
Miss Tairee's first thought about the twenty second day was about how she had to make do without a computer again. In retrospect though, that was hardly something for her to be upset about when everyone else in the city was dealing with a lot worse problems. She sighed as she remembered that those hunters made a big mess of things again.
Then the twenty third day, the last day in which Miss Tairee had to sit out. She personally spent the day in the Somewhere between universes, watching the events unfolding with Tset and Tester. It seemed like yet another harsh day to add to the tally of harsh days for the inhabitants, with how hostile the underground they were placed within was.
The twenty fourth day wasn't actually all that bad for the city as a whole. For Miss Tairee herself? It was certainly annoying on a personal level, being once again back in that dress, back as a zergling, and back as a semi-mute cartoon all at the same time. In the grand scheme of things though, it certainly could have been worse.
The twenty fifth day was supposed to be the last of the break days, as Miss Tairee recalled. It had been interesting that day to meet one of the former Sekreh Tairees, and discuss differences in their approaches to the job. Naturally as a break day, nothing bad really happened, but Miss Tairee did think that most of the rather notable city inhabitants didn't really relax at all on that day.
Miss Tairee once again found herself at the edge of the city in her wandering, now at one of the balconies. She stared at it for a minute, then slowly walked to the edge of it. There she sat down, dangling her legs over the edge of the city, under the railing. She continued thinking as she stared out at the starry sky.
As Miss Tairee thought about the days after, she couldn't help a frown forming on her face. The twenty sixth, twenty seventh, and twenty eighth days seemed to meld together in a meaningless cacophony of violence, and for what? So that this project could have a 'climactic ending'? This was just the inspiration! Reference material by which new projects could be made! It didn't need to have a climactic finale! It was a stupid idea from the very conception, in her eyes.
... Then the twenty ninth day... Honestly, Miss Tairee wouldn't be all that surprised if Writer had actually intended it after all. Well, surely he didn't intend to lose access and control of the universe, but having the city's inhabitants face off against an evil version of his assistant didn't seem entirely out of character for him. Then again, she knew he wasn't incapable of making mistakes, and perhaps even one as big as forgetting to make her an exception to the twenty eighth day was in fact a sincere one. Maybe she would never know for certain, and she'd probably just have to find a way to live with that...
At least the thirtieth day was nice, if a bit somber, in Miss Tairee's opinion. Writer had finally come around and realized he should right some wrongs. What was the saying? Better late than never? It didn't feel all that comforting in the grand scheme of things... Well, what's done is done. She knew he wasn't going to undo it now, and she'd just have to live with that too.
Slowly, Miss Tairee stood, still gazing out at the stars beyond the edge of the city. After a few minutes, she flicked her wrist and brought up the holographic screen and keyboard. She did some typing on it, and everything blurred for a moment. She then dismissed the hologram, and carefully climbed over the railing, holding onto it behind her as she looked down at the void of stars beneath her in contemplation. Miss Tairee closed her eyes and slowly took in and let out a breath, then let go of the railing.
The sound of the wind whipping past her, surprisingly gentle given the effects of the day, was all Miss Tairee could hear as she fell through the sky. With her eyes still closed, she had slowly rotated around so that she was falling back first into the void, her arms and legs spread gently in a relaxed pose. She was not taken back to the city; that was the modification she'd just done. So instead, she just kept falling, and would continue to fall indefinitely...
... Miss Tairee let a fair amount of time pass as she fell. She didn't keep track, but she knew it must have been hours at least, maybe even a day. Finally, she opened her eyes. The city was completely out of sight now, no more than a tiny speck somewhere far above her. The stars all around, above, and below her, did not look any different. She was only falling at a normal terminal velocity; she would have to wait an exorbitant amount of time before she would see any difference in them. Even as relaxing as this meaningless descent through space was, she had no interest in going that long. "Alright, Writer... There's something I want to do, before I return to your service." Miss Tairee heard the telltale sound of writing in the air before she saw Writer's response.
"Of course."
"S-STAY AWAY, MONSTER!!" Viola's dad yelled, aiming his gun at the legless, injured figure in front of him. His daughter stood behind him... And blinked, a look of shock crossing her face, as she then glanced about in confusion. She was suddenly back, in her own body now. Had the magic Ellen used worn off?
At the same time, Ellen's body recoiled in understandable surprise, letting out a weak attempt at a screech of confusion, alarm, and anger. With a loud bang, Viola's father shot the legless body right through the head, blasting a chunk of it away. After a moment, he shot it again, to ensure it was really dead. Without another word, he took hold of his daughter's arm in a protective grip, and the two of them ran away towards their home through the forest.
Nothing but the sound of raindrops remained, until after several seconds, Miss Tairee walked forward towards the lifeless body. She looked down at it with a solemn disdain. "I truly despise you, you know. More than words can adequately relate in a short time span, for the things you've done, and willingly tricking a good little girl like that," the assistant said, looking like she was considering stomping on the body, before deciding it wasn't worth it. "Which is probably why you're a bit confused right now, I expect," she then said, glancing up and over at another figure off the side of the path. Ellen, in a perfectly healthy, disease-free body, similar to her original, but different enough that she could reasonably claim to be someone different.
"Oh I certainly considered just swapping you and Viola back. That was my original plan, but then I looked into things a bit more, and well... Ultimately, you're a victim, too... If there's one thing I've learned from Writer's mistakes, it's that nothing needs to be just one extreme or the other; there are options in between, that are better for everyone," Miss Tairee went on, looking back at the lifeless body. "So I made the one who was truly responsible suffer this unjust death. That demon, that posed as a black cat. I made sure it was a true death, too; there will be no resurrection of any sort for that vile being. Not even an afterlife," she explained, then finally turned her attention to Ellen properly.
"Not that you're getting off the hook entirely, Ellen. You can claim you had no choice all you want, but with a being with free will, that's simply not true. You could have refused the demon's initial offer; yes, you would have most certainly died, but you still could have refused. You ultimately decided that you were allowed to make other people suffer and die so that you could prolong your own life. You may be a victim, but you are still responsible for the choices you made... As such, I have decided that I think the most fitting outcome for you, is to have your relief for being a victim, and your punishment for what you've done, be one and the same. A normal life," Miss Tairee went on at length, stepping a bit closer to Ellen. "A normal life," the assistant repeated, with a bit more emphasis. "You will never again have any interaction with any demons or any other supernatural entities. You will never again perform any kind of magic. Don't think that trying to get someone else to do it on your behalf will work either; I've made quite sure to close all the loopholes you could think of, and couldn't think of."
Miss Tairee then glanced up at the clouds above them, still dropping rain down. "Which means, someday you will grow old, and you will die. You won't have any opportunity to switch to somebody else's body to avoid it this time. Now, whether you live a good life, or squander it, is up to you."
Miss Tairee then looked at Ellen again. The usual disdain remained, but a bit of a smug grin formed on the assistant's lips. "I know, you're probably thinking that this isn't fair, and that I don't have a right to do this. You're not wrong, but to be frank, I just don't give a damn. You pissed me off and made it personal, witch, and I detest anyone who would do to children what you've done. I'm doing this because I can, and because I want to, and because it makes me feel better. I know it's petty, and ultimately meaningless in the end, but I don't care. Letting somebody like you do as they please after trying to rub it in my face that I can't touch you, now that's just something I wasn't going to let happen."
With that, Miss Tairee took a few steps back, but kept facing Ellen. "Oh, and one last thing, Ellen. Don't try to make me come back to your universe. I don't want to ever talk to you again, and if you make that happen, I will make you regret it. There are fates much worse than death in the multiverse, Ellen."
Miss Tairee then blurred and vanished, off to the somewhere between universes and to continue her duties as assistant of the Writer. She'd been at it for almost nineteen and a half thousand years now; she thought to herself that she'd aim for twenty thousand, and consider whether she felt like retiring after that...
Almost seven years ago I started this RP. It has been the final day of this RP for over a year now. First of all, I want to say thank you, sincerely, to everyone who took part in this game that has shaped a portion of my life. If you were active from the start to the end, or if you only ever made a single post and then left, either way you contributed to the experience that was this game for me, and for everyone else along the way.
And once again, though it may seem like a broken record thing now, I want to apologize. I am sorry that my old obsession with things being difficult and dramatic changed this game from what it was originally advertised to be, and squandered its potential. Yes, it's not like it was ruined to the point where nobody was having fun, but it was still meant to be something different from what it ultimately became.
So if you left the game because you didn't like how the game was going, or didn't like arguing with me about how the game was going, then I am sorry.
Anyway, City of Lost Characters is now done with, for the time being. If you're here and reading this, I'm guessing you're wondering about a sequel, but well, I just don't think I'll be doing that myself. Not any time soon, at least. In the years since I've started this game, especially after it slowed down near the (in-game) end, my interests have changed somewhat. It's not that I wouldn't enjoy running a game like this all over again, and yes the prospect of doing it again and not screwing it up is tempting... However, the main issue is time. Running a game like this takes a lot of reading and writing every day. My free time has become more limited as of late, and now there are other things I'd rather do more, including other writing projects. Even just being a player in a game like this again feels like a daunting proposition these days, but if anyone else ever does get a sequel of their own off the ground, then I'll probably join in. Perhaps some day, if I can reliably have more free time, or if some of my other interests drop off, then I'll consider it again. For now though, it is not something I see happening; I am sorry if that disappoints you, and I hope you can understand.
As for the Discord server, I intend to leave it up, and still be around in it. I'll share things on occasion and reply to anything that catches my interest, or specifically has a mention @me. I will probably stop announcing my arrival and leaving every day though, as I see no further point to it after this. Even with this game done, I see no reason to just delete the server; especially if anyone else intends to pick up the torch from here, as it were.
I made a promise to see this RP through to the end, so long as anyone still cared. Though it has been painful at times, it has been a wonderful experience more than that, and I don't regret it at all; I regret some of my choices in the game, yes, but I don't regret running the game. I hope you all, whether you played in this game or not, have a good life from here on. It has been a pleasure to be your game master in this RP.
The City of Lost Characters is over, for now...
Edited by FirockFinion on Sep 1st 2022 at 7:55:37 AM
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Wells let out a short laugh. "I actually can't claim the credit for that one. One of my men was very knowledgeable about all the kinds of tricks criminals from other universes would use; he called it being 'genre savvy', but I didn't quite understand it. Can't deny its effectiveness though," the lieutenant admitted to Garrett. Then Wells' face went a bit more serious as he faced the thief.
"I can't say I approve of what you do for a living; I think we both know that if I lived in your universe we would be on opposite sides of the law... From what I've been told, it's not impossible that there is a version of myself living there somewhere, in fact," Wells said, frowning slightly as he thought through that particular possibility. Then he shook his head, and got back on track. "Anyway, I hope you can find something you can do with your skills that is more productive and beneficial to your community... But I suppose after today, that won't be a concern of mine anymore."
With that, Wells looked ahead at nothing in particular. "I think I'm just about ready to return to my home as well," the lieutenant thought aloud.
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