Re: The Wretched Rite - Round One - The Rose Ring
01-26-2012, 03:00 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by A Killer Cuppa Tea.
Adelaide mentally shook herself as the impact of the last few moments sunk in. she stared down at the pen in her hand… she hadn’t planned to take it. Indeed, she hadn’t thought that the opportunity would arise. But her sharp mind was quick to summarise that she held within her hands a weapon of considerable power. Would it work under water? She didn’t see why not – all she needed was something to write on.
Before she could contemplate any further, she realised that she was not alone in her domain. M. had followed her again like a creature too foolish to learn from its mistakes. Unlike last time, however, the creature did not thrash around in panic to try to escape the water. It had discovered some strange semblance of swimming, pushing all its roots in one direction to provide thrust. Its progress was slow, but it floated towards her like an ever prominent threat.
She knew from previous experience that it would not be wise to fight it - there were no organs to rip out, no veins to cut. It would tire and drown eventually if she stayed away from it long enough, but she didn’t have the time – or the patience – to wait that long. She searched her mind for a pool of water in the above world that she could eject it from… and her mind returned to the pen in her hand.
She smiled evilly as a new idea began to form in her mind…
-_~*~_-
Who was she to ever think that she could ever control fate? She realised now that she had only been deluding herself – delaying the inevitable. Had she ever been in control of the hand of fate? Or had her exploits with the pen been part of Fate’s plan all along, a ruse to give her a taste of what being in control of one’s own destiny was like before cruelly snatching that experience from her.
She was overcome by a sudden sense of bitterness – a feeling she was much used to. But accompanying it was the desolate loss of hope. Perhaps fate’s cruel hand had had a part to play in today’s happenings…she recounted what had happened and realised that she had been finally allowed to enjoy some of the pleasures she had always missed out on. She had visited a strange and distant place, not altogether unbecoming. She had met people there who had done more than just shun her… had pretended to care for her, had given her a taste of love and companionship that she had long since desired, even if she had refused to admit it to herself. Even the fact that someone had cared enough to purposefully hurt her was more than she was used to.
Finally, she had been granted the chance to be in control of her own fate. And not only hers! But others too. She’d tasted that forbidden fruit that had so long been denied to her… perhaps it was a final mockery of fate, showing her the life that it had denied her before snatching it away from her forever.
A feeling of futility rose within her. Perhaps it was her time. Perhaps her fate-bound had finally come to claim her. In an almost trance-like state she stood and began to head down the stairs…
-_~*~_-
Just as she exited the room, the puddle from which Adelaide and M. had just vanished erupted again, and Adelaide stepped out of it. She scanned quickly for a scrap of paper to write on, grabbed a few pages, and jumped with them back into the puddle.
M. was still there, stubbornly still floating towards her. She had never been much of a writer, but she narrowed her eyes and bought pen to paper…
Suddenly M.’s roots bended strangely. They would no longer follow his commands, and began to thrash in random directions. Suddenly, they began to dance to and fro, waving in the water and spinning and bending and curling and
Adelaide laughed in delight at the private show. She wrote quicker and quicker, her eyes almost as wide as her grin, and she made M. twist and bend in ever stranger ways.
The roots began to whip M.’s body, (“Why you hitting yourself?”) wrapping around it in a strange semblance of a hug. M. tried to launch another one of those damned poisonous apples, but it wouldn’t happen.
Adelaide continued torturing M. for a little while, muttering things like “teach you to jump into my puddle” and “this is for that acid earlier!”, but after a while, she began to get bored – what fun was prey that didn’t scream and cry or try to fight back? She opened up another puddle of water in the above world and jettisoned M. rudely out of it. She returned back to the top floor of the library – what better place? - And looked out of what had, until recently, been a wall.
It was a perfect vantage point. She saw, off in the distance, what looked like the fallen corpse of the dragon, with Poran posing on top of it, strumming his instrument and declaring to the world how he had defeated the dragon.
The villagers stood, scratching their heads at their buildings, hoping that they would finally decide whether they wanted to stay broken or fixed, wanting them just to stay still so they could assess the situation.
Taelia walked strangely, almost as though drunk, or fighting with herself, her sword drawn, heading towards the library.
Abruptly, it began to rain. Lots and lots of rain. Torrential, even. Before long, puddles had begun to form and collect, getting bigger and bigger until the whole town was under the Ruskala’s domain.
Wait…since when did I start calling myself “the ruskala”?
-_~*~_-
Downstairs, Vera pompously strode into the crowd, and tried to make sense of the situation. She had almost managed to calm the animal people, when she was suddenly overcome by a sense of fate. She suddenly felt the presence of another Tsote... in very close proximity.
She drew her razorwhip. She didn’t feel much emotion – she would merely be conducting an affair which she had known she would have to for her whole life.
Upstairs, Alice wasn’t sure what she was been expecting. What she expected to do. But – faced with the certainty of death, her innate determination began to well up inside her, and she decided that she’d be damned if she lay down and let fate take her. At the very least, I can hurt the bitch before she kills me. The thought filled her with a sense of satisfaction, and she resolved to fight it out.
Meanwhile, Fiorella looked at Vera (who had stopped mid-sentance and turned around almost as though in a trance) with wide eyes and an ajar mouth. “But…zis is just zilly! Why vould you just barge in like zis only to turn away? Look at her--! She’s mad!” she tried to explain the sheer nerve of the woman to the animal-people who were hounding her, but she stopped mid-sentence as she realised that they were all looking at her rather unfriendily. She took an unconscious step backwards.
“Is that fur you’re wearing?” one of them asked.
“Why…yes! Zis is the finest fur in the land, from ze rarest of animals too, I’ll have you know! Why, I’m a little relieved, I didn’t realise zat there were fellow appreciators of fashion in zis backwards town!” she beamed at them, but her smile faltered and she realised that she was talking to creatures who were furry themselves. “Err…I mean…”
She could think of nothing to say. She turned tail and ran out of the building, almost colliding with Taelia on the way out.
-_~*~_-
Fiorella grabbed Taelia’s shoulders and begged her for help. She had to reason to expect help from the little girl, who would probably not be of much help anyway. Indeed, Taelia raised her sword and pointed the tip at Fiorella’s chin.
(Fiorella’s cry of “What on earth is wrong with zis town!” was loud enough to be heard by Adelaide on the top floor of the library.)
Taelia smiled a grim smile, and made to slash gogerjgo at gerogeiojg
Egierjg
Kgoerkgop
Adelaide stared at her hand. It refused to write the next few words. Try as she might, her hand would begin to shake and spout gobbledegook. She knew that any word she wrote would become reality, but she couldn’t do it.
Taelia foeirjfioer the little girl feoirjgiorejg why won’t this stupid pen work gorejgiojreg she grpeokgoer the little girl is mine don’t presume to control my vessel I won’t let you I will find you and make her kill you your hand is no longer your own and it is no longer your will which is being used to write these words back off Ruskala before I make you do something you’ll regret for the rest of your pitifully short life stop stop oh my god stop
Adelaide shuddered and her skin crawled as her hand began to write words that were not her own. She dived into the puddle of water, her hand still clutching the pen. She sulked for a few moments, wondering what on earth had just happened, before throwing the pen out of her domain.
-_~*~_-
The Omen returned his tendril of influence back to Taelia. His control over the ruskala had been incredibly slight, and his threat somewhat empty. Though incredibly powerful, his power was contained in this…this shell. His power was trapped and he could not use more than a little of it. Luckily for him, the container was weak and he was beginning to be able to – with a little exertion – extend a little of his control beyond the little girl. Given time, he was sure he would be able to break free, but the damned enchantress who had trapped him in the first place had been keen and thorough, and the charms were difficult to break.
It was not a big deal – he would have to use what little influence he had to gently nudge things along to his benefit. It was not his style, but he had to admit that the concept intrigued him. And besides, his control over this poor girl’s mind was complete enough that he could nudge her thoughts and actions into whatever he wanted.
He had always been an excellent manipulator.
He realised that the Ruskala had wanted to kill the well-dressed woman anyway. He just wanted to do it in his own terms.
-_~*~_-
Fiorella stared, wide eyed, as the little girl withdrew the sword point from her throat. She breathed a sigh of relief and made to turn back to her pursuers, but a gleam in the little girl’s eye made her stop.
With a smile much too evil to come from a girl her age, Taelia stabbed the sword neatly into Fiorella’s chest. Fiorella gasped soundlessly as she watched her pink chemise slowly turn red…
-_~*~_-
Meanwhile, the pen landed at the feet of a shadowy figure…
Adelaide mentally shook herself as the impact of the last few moments sunk in. she stared down at the pen in her hand… she hadn’t planned to take it. Indeed, she hadn’t thought that the opportunity would arise. But her sharp mind was quick to summarise that she held within her hands a weapon of considerable power. Would it work under water? She didn’t see why not – all she needed was something to write on.
Before she could contemplate any further, she realised that she was not alone in her domain. M. had followed her again like a creature too foolish to learn from its mistakes. Unlike last time, however, the creature did not thrash around in panic to try to escape the water. It had discovered some strange semblance of swimming, pushing all its roots in one direction to provide thrust. Its progress was slow, but it floated towards her like an ever prominent threat.
She knew from previous experience that it would not be wise to fight it - there were no organs to rip out, no veins to cut. It would tire and drown eventually if she stayed away from it long enough, but she didn’t have the time – or the patience – to wait that long. She searched her mind for a pool of water in the above world that she could eject it from… and her mind returned to the pen in her hand.
She smiled evilly as a new idea began to form in her mind…
-_~*~_-
Who was she to ever think that she could ever control fate? She realised now that she had only been deluding herself – delaying the inevitable. Had she ever been in control of the hand of fate? Or had her exploits with the pen been part of Fate’s plan all along, a ruse to give her a taste of what being in control of one’s own destiny was like before cruelly snatching that experience from her.
She was overcome by a sudden sense of bitterness – a feeling she was much used to. But accompanying it was the desolate loss of hope. Perhaps fate’s cruel hand had had a part to play in today’s happenings…she recounted what had happened and realised that she had been finally allowed to enjoy some of the pleasures she had always missed out on. She had visited a strange and distant place, not altogether unbecoming. She had met people there who had done more than just shun her… had pretended to care for her, had given her a taste of love and companionship that she had long since desired, even if she had refused to admit it to herself. Even the fact that someone had cared enough to purposefully hurt her was more than she was used to.
Finally, she had been granted the chance to be in control of her own fate. And not only hers! But others too. She’d tasted that forbidden fruit that had so long been denied to her… perhaps it was a final mockery of fate, showing her the life that it had denied her before snatching it away from her forever.
A feeling of futility rose within her. Perhaps it was her time. Perhaps her fate-bound had finally come to claim her. In an almost trance-like state she stood and began to head down the stairs…
-_~*~_-
Just as she exited the room, the puddle from which Adelaide and M. had just vanished erupted again, and Adelaide stepped out of it. She scanned quickly for a scrap of paper to write on, grabbed a few pages, and jumped with them back into the puddle.
M. was still there, stubbornly still floating towards her. She had never been much of a writer, but she narrowed her eyes and bought pen to paper…
Suddenly M.’s roots bended strangely. They would no longer follow his commands, and began to thrash in random directions. Suddenly, they began to dance to and fro, waving in the water and spinning and bending and curling and
Adelaide laughed in delight at the private show. She wrote quicker and quicker, her eyes almost as wide as her grin, and she made M. twist and bend in ever stranger ways.
The roots began to whip M.’s body, (“Why you hitting yourself?”) wrapping around it in a strange semblance of a hug. M. tried to launch another one of those damned poisonous apples, but it wouldn’t happen.
Adelaide continued torturing M. for a little while, muttering things like “teach you to jump into my puddle” and “this is for that acid earlier!”, but after a while, she began to get bored – what fun was prey that didn’t scream and cry or try to fight back? She opened up another puddle of water in the above world and jettisoned M. rudely out of it. She returned back to the top floor of the library – what better place? - And looked out of what had, until recently, been a wall.
It was a perfect vantage point. She saw, off in the distance, what looked like the fallen corpse of the dragon, with Poran posing on top of it, strumming his instrument and declaring to the world how he had defeated the dragon.
The villagers stood, scratching their heads at their buildings, hoping that they would finally decide whether they wanted to stay broken or fixed, wanting them just to stay still so they could assess the situation.
Taelia walked strangely, almost as though drunk, or fighting with herself, her sword drawn, heading towards the library.
Abruptly, it began to rain. Lots and lots of rain. Torrential, even. Before long, puddles had begun to form and collect, getting bigger and bigger until the whole town was under the Ruskala’s domain.
Wait…since when did I start calling myself “the ruskala”?
-_~*~_-
Downstairs, Vera pompously strode into the crowd, and tried to make sense of the situation. She had almost managed to calm the animal people, when she was suddenly overcome by a sense of fate. She suddenly felt the presence of another Tsote... in very close proximity.
She drew her razorwhip. She didn’t feel much emotion – she would merely be conducting an affair which she had known she would have to for her whole life.
Upstairs, Alice wasn’t sure what she was been expecting. What she expected to do. But – faced with the certainty of death, her innate determination began to well up inside her, and she decided that she’d be damned if she lay down and let fate take her. At the very least, I can hurt the bitch before she kills me. The thought filled her with a sense of satisfaction, and she resolved to fight it out.
Meanwhile, Fiorella looked at Vera (who had stopped mid-sentance and turned around almost as though in a trance) with wide eyes and an ajar mouth. “But…zis is just zilly! Why vould you just barge in like zis only to turn away? Look at her--! She’s mad!” she tried to explain the sheer nerve of the woman to the animal-people who were hounding her, but she stopped mid-sentence as she realised that they were all looking at her rather unfriendily. She took an unconscious step backwards.
“Is that fur you’re wearing?” one of them asked.
“Why…yes! Zis is the finest fur in the land, from ze rarest of animals too, I’ll have you know! Why, I’m a little relieved, I didn’t realise zat there were fellow appreciators of fashion in zis backwards town!” she beamed at them, but her smile faltered and she realised that she was talking to creatures who were furry themselves. “Err…I mean…”
She could think of nothing to say. She turned tail and ran out of the building, almost colliding with Taelia on the way out.
-_~*~_-
Fiorella grabbed Taelia’s shoulders and begged her for help. She had to reason to expect help from the little girl, who would probably not be of much help anyway. Indeed, Taelia raised her sword and pointed the tip at Fiorella’s chin.
(Fiorella’s cry of “What on earth is wrong with zis town!” was loud enough to be heard by Adelaide on the top floor of the library.)
Taelia smiled a grim smile, and made to slash gogerjgo at gerogeiojg
Egierjg
Kgoerkgop
Adelaide stared at her hand. It refused to write the next few words. Try as she might, her hand would begin to shake and spout gobbledegook. She knew that any word she wrote would become reality, but she couldn’t do it.
Taelia foeirjfioer the little girl feoirjgiorejg why won’t this stupid pen work gorejgiojreg she grpeokgoer the little girl is mine don’t presume to control my vessel I won’t let you I will find you and make her kill you your hand is no longer your own and it is no longer your will which is being used to write these words back off Ruskala before I make you do something you’ll regret for the rest of your pitifully short life stop stop oh my god stop
Adelaide shuddered and her skin crawled as her hand began to write words that were not her own. She dived into the puddle of water, her hand still clutching the pen. She sulked for a few moments, wondering what on earth had just happened, before throwing the pen out of her domain.
-_~*~_-
The Omen returned his tendril of influence back to Taelia. His control over the ruskala had been incredibly slight, and his threat somewhat empty. Though incredibly powerful, his power was contained in this…this shell. His power was trapped and he could not use more than a little of it. Luckily for him, the container was weak and he was beginning to be able to – with a little exertion – extend a little of his control beyond the little girl. Given time, he was sure he would be able to break free, but the damned enchantress who had trapped him in the first place had been keen and thorough, and the charms were difficult to break.
It was not a big deal – he would have to use what little influence he had to gently nudge things along to his benefit. It was not his style, but he had to admit that the concept intrigued him. And besides, his control over this poor girl’s mind was complete enough that he could nudge her thoughts and actions into whatever he wanted.
He had always been an excellent manipulator.
He realised that the Ruskala had wanted to kill the well-dressed woman anyway. He just wanted to do it in his own terms.
-_~*~_-
Fiorella stared, wide eyed, as the little girl withdrew the sword point from her throat. She breathed a sigh of relief and made to turn back to her pursuers, but a gleam in the little girl’s eye made her stop.
With a smile much too evil to come from a girl her age, Taelia stabbed the sword neatly into Fiorella’s chest. Fiorella gasped soundlessly as she watched her pink chemise slowly turn red…
-_~*~_-
Meanwhile, the pen landed at the feet of a shadowy figure…