- Joined
- Nov 7, 2004
- Messages
- 47
- Age
- 39
- Linkshell
- TheNameless
Awhile after the last RP I did with Kikona, which Hayato participated in, I got bored and just started writing up a follow up to it. Never got far... and a good deal of it remains in my notebook. Here's what's typed though. Hopefully someone may see it.
Oh, and I was trying a different way of writing my stories. Kinda liked it, I dunno really.
And! I want to be active in this forum, so. I s'pose I'll drag over some summaries, character information, and whatever else here about Kiko. <.<;
---
Had the Ranger not shown that day, where would she be? Since he had shown, would he have slit her throat if she had not taken her life first? Probably. Or if cowardice came into play, then maybe with what little will remained, a quick dash for life? Maybe the most unlikely? Rather the blade to her flesh, it reversed onto the Ranger for a his death? None of it matters... She drank the venom, and down she went. The Ranger cannot kill the already dead (no undead comments here <.<). But where hope seems least likely to show itself, it does. That girl, she was touched by the light- a miracle, or some unknown force. The Goddess Altana, the light, sounds best for this explanation of the unnatural.
*
"Quit abackin' way!"
A voice, unfriendly, shouted at her. A rag, very dirty, topped the threatening man's head as a bandana, with long, greasy, dark hair stringing down to his shoulders from under the cloth. His face was scarred and deep at that. One carved scar in the man's right cheek, etched with a curve, nearly stretched the length from eye to chin. That and dim eyes of a once lively blue were the features strongly upheld in this man. His large size and clothes of gray in shreds did not seem to be particularly noticable all that much. He continued though, shouting those threats until she was backed into the corner near the Alchemists' Guild. The setting sun did not shine in this shadowed corner. The threats however, these ceased in loudness as if his voice toned down with the sinking sun.
"All I wanted was some gil. But all y'do is stare at th' scar, and stare, an' stare. Wull now y'can stares as long so pleased." Words were a waste as none had a meaning to her. There was nothing she clearly understood except for fear. And that fear was increasing with every second.
The man's hands settled roughly on her shoulders and she was shook violently, but was too weak to even flail her arms in some sort of defense. He continued to speak while he shook her, and she felt in such a daze that when one hand relieved her shoulder to reach for a jagged dagger, she did not notice. Then again, if death welcomed her once more here, it would have been void of everything except the sharp pain. She had nothing to reflect on. No memories to mourn over.
But to end this life so quickly would have been a shame, since she was touched by the light.
Destined for the greatest or smallest of achievements, she could not die by the stained, jagged dagger of a poor common man in Bastok.
Then it happened.
There was an eclipse. The man's shadow had blocked the light from touching her, so darkness invited itself over to take the place of light. This darkness exceeded the mere shadow of the petty man. Had he thought better, he may have turned around, but unfortunately the large blade, enormous and curved like the crescent moon it could be seen with a glare, ripped through the man's torso. Blood splattered and stained her clothes, but the horrific sight was yet to be witnessed. Through a sudden despair she had closed her eyes, and could she have screamed, that would have been done too. A low grunt escaped the man, and she opened her eyes to see that the light had broken into the darkness and gleamed. That blade, it was a scythe, never completely separated the man, yet remained lodged in the body. His now lifeless eyes gawked at her, and he then hunched over. The holder of the scythe gave it a sudden jerk which finished the man, who slid off the blade into a halved pile on the ground.
This grotesque sight did not disturb her, but it was sickening. What happened was not exactly comprehended. There was an urge to vomit, and it was done. The bad taste left a sour look on her face, and her throat burned. As unpleasant as that was, the threat before was gone, and no longer did a strange man squeeze her shoulders or that gruff voice yell. But what saved her? And would the savior take the place of that man?
She looked up. While vomitting, she had fallen to the ground on her knees and slumped back against the corner afterwards. What stood before her though was the darkness that overwhelmed the petty man. A tall figure in black, thick armor. The helmet had two protruding horns. Also, that bloody scythe attached to their back.
"Linea, help her. See if your magic has any use for once." His tone was calm, nothing like the other. A smaller figure emerged from behind with a look of disgust. Except for the face of this little being, its cloak of solid black meshed with the darkly clad man and everything became near undescribable again except for it being "the darkness". The sun had almost setted. Soon maybe, her eyes would adjust to the night, and then she would seem them clearly.
"Since when did you become a savioraru?" The childish voice, so small to match their size, took her by surprise. Reluctantly it seemed, this little one raised their hands and forced an appearance of deep thought, strained. The much taller darkness looked down, observing his companion. Unsure of what was happening, she made an attempt to stand then run. This action lasted only a few feet before the escape was blocked by the scythe (and her feet would not have carried her far anyway). That man held onto the scythe sternly, questioning her motive for running away. She stared in response. She noticed that like the smaller one, he had long, pointed ears as well.
"Do you understand me? Why so tight-lipped, Hume?" he asked and she stared. Beads of sweat trailed down her forehead, recalling what the scythe had just done minutes ago to the other, now dead, man. Panic-stricken after staring longer at him, then the scythe, and finally to the dead body on the ground, she faltered completely in strength and fell. Her vision was blotched with many colors, and the last of what she saw was a white light engulfing her before it all became black.
"Way to goaru," the Tarutaru exclaimed, "You scared her to death. And the healing didn't helparu- I think she's starving." Linea toddled over, and poked at a visible rib with her stubby fingers. "Patheticaru. Nothing valuable, probably has one of those contagiousaru sicknesses, and," another poke, "she looks hungry. So many bumsaru in Bastok." With one more poke to her ribs, Linea turned and began walking to the door of the Alchemists' Guild. "I'll go getaru the carnation."
By the time Linea walked back out, she was startled at the sight of seeing the girl lifted up in his arms. "Eclipse! No! No! Drop her! She is notaru coming with us!"
---
To make a bit of sense as to what happened, by the last time I RPed with Kikona, she wasn't liked very much. Hayato had threatened her life, and even backed her up against the altar in the Bastok Metalworks, a knife to her neck. She convinced him to back off so she could spare a few words if he did end up killing her, but in truth she already prepared her death- just so happened he was there.
Kiko didn't have a lot going for her. She felt increasingly depressive and weaker with every day in the battle against herself, or rather, the once 'hallucination' of her dead sister that seemed to be coming to life with every passing day. The problem with this, is the ghost filled Kikona's mind with ideas. Kill Ellion. Kill Hayato. Kill Kitsomi. Actually, kill anyone that's -ever- done you wrong in the slightest way possible. This was difficult to make sense out of. Since she was little, Kikona blamed herself for Kiijita's death, and welcomed the spirit back once she appeared. Yet now, she only wants evil deeds done. It's contrary to the "no more death, spread good will" mind set Kikona had delevoped.
But saying she didn't have a lot going for her wasn't much a lie.
Over time, she managed to turn everyone against her. (Gotta admit, those mind games she played with Hayato were fun as could be to RP o_o)
The purpose she worked so hard to attain, to carry out, was vanishing.
Most importantly in her life was Ellion. Ever since their engagement, he drifted away. Then he would come back, there would be conflict, then a nice "I love you," by the end, and off again he went. At this point, anyone who disliked Kikona was damn sure to make her realize the one person she loved and felt cared for her, did in fact not love her, or else "he would be here."
What it amounted to, was Kikona gave up. If she was going to surrender to evil intentions and do harm to others, then she would give up her own life first.
I think her last words to Hayato before dropping dead was "Your sin is saved."
Originally, I had planned on a different direction to allow her to perhaps take role as the leading evil in the RP, and maybe gain an ally to help with it. But it all went to hell and this was the result.
This story isn't meant to really be the aftermath of what happens, I was just in need of writing. I'm thinking of doing a more probable story that could maybe revive her into some RP later on.
Oh, and I was trying a different way of writing my stories. Kinda liked it, I dunno really.
And! I want to be active in this forum, so. I s'pose I'll drag over some summaries, character information, and whatever else here about Kiko. <.<;
---
Had the Ranger not shown that day, where would she be? Since he had shown, would he have slit her throat if she had not taken her life first? Probably. Or if cowardice came into play, then maybe with what little will remained, a quick dash for life? Maybe the most unlikely? Rather the blade to her flesh, it reversed onto the Ranger for a his death? None of it matters... She drank the venom, and down she went. The Ranger cannot kill the already dead (no undead comments here <.<). But where hope seems least likely to show itself, it does. That girl, she was touched by the light- a miracle, or some unknown force. The Goddess Altana, the light, sounds best for this explanation of the unnatural.
*
"Quit abackin' way!"
A voice, unfriendly, shouted at her. A rag, very dirty, topped the threatening man's head as a bandana, with long, greasy, dark hair stringing down to his shoulders from under the cloth. His face was scarred and deep at that. One carved scar in the man's right cheek, etched with a curve, nearly stretched the length from eye to chin. That and dim eyes of a once lively blue were the features strongly upheld in this man. His large size and clothes of gray in shreds did not seem to be particularly noticable all that much. He continued though, shouting those threats until she was backed into the corner near the Alchemists' Guild. The setting sun did not shine in this shadowed corner. The threats however, these ceased in loudness as if his voice toned down with the sinking sun.
"All I wanted was some gil. But all y'do is stare at th' scar, and stare, an' stare. Wull now y'can stares as long so pleased." Words were a waste as none had a meaning to her. There was nothing she clearly understood except for fear. And that fear was increasing with every second.
The man's hands settled roughly on her shoulders and she was shook violently, but was too weak to even flail her arms in some sort of defense. He continued to speak while he shook her, and she felt in such a daze that when one hand relieved her shoulder to reach for a jagged dagger, she did not notice. Then again, if death welcomed her once more here, it would have been void of everything except the sharp pain. She had nothing to reflect on. No memories to mourn over.
But to end this life so quickly would have been a shame, since she was touched by the light.
Destined for the greatest or smallest of achievements, she could not die by the stained, jagged dagger of a poor common man in Bastok.
Then it happened.
There was an eclipse. The man's shadow had blocked the light from touching her, so darkness invited itself over to take the place of light. This darkness exceeded the mere shadow of the petty man. Had he thought better, he may have turned around, but unfortunately the large blade, enormous and curved like the crescent moon it could be seen with a glare, ripped through the man's torso. Blood splattered and stained her clothes, but the horrific sight was yet to be witnessed. Through a sudden despair she had closed her eyes, and could she have screamed, that would have been done too. A low grunt escaped the man, and she opened her eyes to see that the light had broken into the darkness and gleamed. That blade, it was a scythe, never completely separated the man, yet remained lodged in the body. His now lifeless eyes gawked at her, and he then hunched over. The holder of the scythe gave it a sudden jerk which finished the man, who slid off the blade into a halved pile on the ground.
This grotesque sight did not disturb her, but it was sickening. What happened was not exactly comprehended. There was an urge to vomit, and it was done. The bad taste left a sour look on her face, and her throat burned. As unpleasant as that was, the threat before was gone, and no longer did a strange man squeeze her shoulders or that gruff voice yell. But what saved her? And would the savior take the place of that man?
She looked up. While vomitting, she had fallen to the ground on her knees and slumped back against the corner afterwards. What stood before her though was the darkness that overwhelmed the petty man. A tall figure in black, thick armor. The helmet had two protruding horns. Also, that bloody scythe attached to their back.
"Linea, help her. See if your magic has any use for once." His tone was calm, nothing like the other. A smaller figure emerged from behind with a look of disgust. Except for the face of this little being, its cloak of solid black meshed with the darkly clad man and everything became near undescribable again except for it being "the darkness". The sun had almost setted. Soon maybe, her eyes would adjust to the night, and then she would seem them clearly.
"Since when did you become a savioraru?" The childish voice, so small to match their size, took her by surprise. Reluctantly it seemed, this little one raised their hands and forced an appearance of deep thought, strained. The much taller darkness looked down, observing his companion. Unsure of what was happening, she made an attempt to stand then run. This action lasted only a few feet before the escape was blocked by the scythe (and her feet would not have carried her far anyway). That man held onto the scythe sternly, questioning her motive for running away. She stared in response. She noticed that like the smaller one, he had long, pointed ears as well.
"Do you understand me? Why so tight-lipped, Hume?" he asked and she stared. Beads of sweat trailed down her forehead, recalling what the scythe had just done minutes ago to the other, now dead, man. Panic-stricken after staring longer at him, then the scythe, and finally to the dead body on the ground, she faltered completely in strength and fell. Her vision was blotched with many colors, and the last of what she saw was a white light engulfing her before it all became black.
"Way to goaru," the Tarutaru exclaimed, "You scared her to death. And the healing didn't helparu- I think she's starving." Linea toddled over, and poked at a visible rib with her stubby fingers. "Patheticaru. Nothing valuable, probably has one of those contagiousaru sicknesses, and," another poke, "she looks hungry. So many bumsaru in Bastok." With one more poke to her ribs, Linea turned and began walking to the door of the Alchemists' Guild. "I'll go getaru the carnation."
By the time Linea walked back out, she was startled at the sight of seeing the girl lifted up in his arms. "Eclipse! No! No! Drop her! She is notaru coming with us!"
---
To make a bit of sense as to what happened, by the last time I RPed with Kikona, she wasn't liked very much. Hayato had threatened her life, and even backed her up against the altar in the Bastok Metalworks, a knife to her neck. She convinced him to back off so she could spare a few words if he did end up killing her, but in truth she already prepared her death- just so happened he was there.
Kiko didn't have a lot going for her. She felt increasingly depressive and weaker with every day in the battle against herself, or rather, the once 'hallucination' of her dead sister that seemed to be coming to life with every passing day. The problem with this, is the ghost filled Kikona's mind with ideas. Kill Ellion. Kill Hayato. Kill Kitsomi. Actually, kill anyone that's -ever- done you wrong in the slightest way possible. This was difficult to make sense out of. Since she was little, Kikona blamed herself for Kiijita's death, and welcomed the spirit back once she appeared. Yet now, she only wants evil deeds done. It's contrary to the "no more death, spread good will" mind set Kikona had delevoped.
But saying she didn't have a lot going for her wasn't much a lie.
Over time, she managed to turn everyone against her. (Gotta admit, those mind games she played with Hayato were fun as could be to RP o_o)
The purpose she worked so hard to attain, to carry out, was vanishing.
Most importantly in her life was Ellion. Ever since their engagement, he drifted away. Then he would come back, there would be conflict, then a nice "I love you," by the end, and off again he went. At this point, anyone who disliked Kikona was damn sure to make her realize the one person she loved and felt cared for her, did in fact not love her, or else "he would be here."
What it amounted to, was Kikona gave up. If she was going to surrender to evil intentions and do harm to others, then she would give up her own life first.
I think her last words to Hayato before dropping dead was "Your sin is saved."
Originally, I had planned on a different direction to allow her to perhaps take role as the leading evil in the RP, and maybe gain an ally to help with it. But it all went to hell and this was the result.
This story isn't meant to really be the aftermath of what happens, I was just in need of writing. I'm thinking of doing a more probable story that could maybe revive her into some RP later on.