Personification Life: EPIC (IC Thread XI) [CLOSED]

by **Giovenith** » Sun Dec 25, 2016 11:26 pm

Paper-Willow inspected the present box with a nonchalant smile, seemingly oblivious to the fight going on. It was both like and unlike the real Willow, in that all his little movements and facial ticks exactly copied how the painter pony would behave, but not quite how he would behave in this situation. Real-Willow would have been trying to stop the fight whereas Paper-Willow acted like Real-Willow would over a cup of coffee.

"That's all very interesting, I'm sure Twilight Sparkle the librarian will make a wonderful Goddess-Princess," he remarked. "I've been up to much as well." Actually he'd only just been "born" about six minutes ago but that was breaking character. "After you left, I went crazy and sang The Rainbow Connection while painting, but I got over it quickly. That's the only song I know how to sing properly. They taught me it in first grade, I remember it because my substitute art teacher Miss Strawberry complimented me on it and she was my first crush. After that I got a pet balloon and the Luxans did some minor experiments on me. I went to Silent Hill, a town in another dimension created by the fear of religious zealots and the mental hang ups of my friend Brit. I was attacked by a scanty nurse and ate spoiled chocolate there. Then I offered to assist the Chaos God of War and Rage to investigate a future plan for the consideration of gods."

Paper-Willow said it all so smoothly and naturally just like Real-Willow but he evidently hadn't quite grasped what was and wasn't too much information. It was like watching a five-star actor purposely play out a scene contrary to it's atmosphere, a drama as a comedy or vice versa.

"I'm not mad at you Sterling, these things happen," he said kindly because he knew that's what Sterling would have wanted Willow to say. "You're still my best friend and the smartest pony I know. These humans have treated me kindly. Is it true what was whispered before? That those tribesmen wanted to eat you? I will protect you. I will beat their asses tender and make them eat those if they touch you." Actually he wasn't sure he could follow through with that promise, but it seemed like the kind of threat Willow would make, albeit with far less passion.

He smiled serenely and looked over his back.

"I may have to comfort Giovenith in a few minutes," he stated casually. "This will upset her. I will make her favorite soup and brush her hair while she cries."

Of course Torii needed to learn her lesson. But not like this. They couldn't hurt each other, could they? Marcus couldn't mean what he threatened?

She hated this and she couldn't take it. She ran off.

If that was how they were going to be, she'd spend the time doing something useful - she made her way back to the ridge to plan ahead for the boar trap, somehow. Maybe they'd waste Christmas with violence but she'd focus on preserving life. She wasn't sure what else to do.

by **Swith Witherward** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 12:10 am

Marcus did not move. The feared moment was brief and heralded only a split second prior by Torii's arm hair standing on end underneath clothing saturated by a sweet brew of ocean salt and sweat. To blink was to miss the brilliant shock of white snapping back towards Marcus, its tongues forking to lap the sand around his feet into smooth glass. Rolling thunder did not follow. Marcus turned his face to watch Giovenith's path towards the pavilion. He did not need to watch Torii's knees buckle. The soft sound of thin glass snapping told him she had crumbled where she stood.

There wasn't any need for him to gloat. The young priest sighed. Wasn't this the old way? Tsu trying to kill people. Thriller and Neil killing each other. Klaus and Minerva hiding daggers behind their backs and smiling at each other face-to-face. Bones and Charu dissecting people against their will. Is this what Demens wanted them to return to?

No. And technically, they weren't regressing. Back in the day, there was a sincere desire to slaughter your neighbor. Marcus had no desire and would have spared Torii had she backed down. She had forced his hand. To spare her was to cave in, and the cycle would perpetuate. To commit to action was to take responsibility. She chose to die. He granted her request by stopping her heart. No glamor. No glory. No incredible feat to prop him up in the eyes of the other Residents. To blink was to miss it... and, to him, there was nothing worthy to see in such a senseless choice to die.

"According to Petrarch, five enemies of peace inhabit with us - avarice, ambition, envy, anger, and pride; if these were to be banished, we should infallibly enjoy perpetual peace." The words tumbled softly from the young priest's mouth as he cast his eyes upwards to stare at the mid-morning sky. "Almost everything - all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important." Marcus folded his hands as his gaze fell on Torii in the sand. There was a tenderness to his serene expression. "She was a good person. She made poor choices."

He was somewhat surprised to find his father - or a cutout of his father? Damn it, Naomi - standing nearby. And he wasn't foolish enough to think Katya wouldn't react aggressively. Or Drova. Or any of the others.

by **Highfort** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 12:27 am

Beach

It was... done.

Septimus took a tentative step forward toward his son. Correction: toward his actual self's son. But seeing as his actual self was off somewhere apparently more important than being with family on holiday, the doppelganger figured he could stand in just fine. He'd spent most of his life on work. Now, at the very least, he should try to be a father.

The old cyborg had seen enough death over a few thousand years to know when the time was right to strike. There was a place for talk, but it was not here. And Marcus had recognized just as well as Septimus had. A true diplomat, in the blood-stained tradition of his father, was Marcus Itum.

The doppelganger cracked a highly-inappropriate smile that probably would diminish his reputation if anyone noticed. But he didn't care. Marcus knew what he had to do when he was up against the wall. That was what mattered. And in the cold, unforgiving universe that Marcus and his generation would inherit, that was what was necessary. Nonviolence had its place, but in the end history was a series of bloody battles and broken bones. And Marcus was set to be a part of history. Marcus was set to shape history.

A second, more resolute step was taken toward the young man as Marcus spoke his eulogy for the fallen girl. Good. Mercy tempered his violence. He wasn't like... Ophelia. Not like Brutus or Cato. Marcus was different, a gentler Brother. Septimus nodded at him when he'd filtered through the crowd and was close enough to speak to him.

"That was... decisive," he let out an awkward breath, realizing that while he was proud, he did not know what to say, "You understand, Broth- Marcus. You chose."

by **Torsiedelle** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 12:30 am

"Oh no..."

Katya's blood ran cold. She snapped herself to right quick afterwards. Was it electric? If it was what she thought it was, then it was powerful. Was Torii still alive? Dead? She fell, and wasn't getting up.

"Excuse me.", She stepped off. "I need to, um, help out.", She said, breaking into a jog. She was angry, at the boy for using such a cheap move, and at her sister for getting into that mess. "That was dirty.", She barked at Marcus; had the concept of an old-fashion fist fight been lost? She stopped at Torii's crumpled body and got down to push her over. "I don't care what you say, nobody's dying on my watch today except a boar."

Once Torii was on her back, Katya placed her hands over her chest, and began to press hard, at a steady rythm, all the while cursing under her breath. Torii and her friends were too hotheaded!

by **Tiltjuice** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 12:31 am

A voice came at Septimus' elbow.

"It's a bit strange, isn't it? I suppose children is rather out of the question for me, as far as I know. But it's a delight to watch them learn, and grow." Chrys gave a slightly wistful sigh. "Not that I can blame the girl, either. I know what it's like to have something in yourself out of control."

But it was Fate's will that Septimus go ahead, and Chrys watched him for a moment, before turning back to Hans.

by **Chedastan** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 12:37 am

Nivea

The Nevidian courier was quite thankful to have even gotten a gift at all in this festive, yet foreign event. Nivea much loved the well made quilt that Giovenith gifted her, and showed her much thanks for it when she received it from her. She honestly didn't expect it at all, she thought she'll be too new to have even been considered with a gift. Though she guessed that the Godling could work up such gifts quite quickly, as it would only make sense if she was obviously magical.

Now she was at the pavilion, trying out some new odd foods and drinks that were out, as she tried to ignored the fuss that was seemingly building up a the beach. She only hoped that no one gets hurt from it, and she could stay out of whatever drama there was over there.

Paper Romy

The paper General was deeply regretting having ever gotten on the beach and into this petty drama. Romulus was now tempted to at least write a note to his real self that Torii didn't actually respect him, and should be reaffirmed properly on that notion the next time she would meet with the real him. Though he debated on it because it sounded maybe a bit too harsh, but Torii's attitude wasn't exactly helping her case. The girl needed to be straightened out regardless, and actual Romulus should've been working on that months ago. Though looking back, he remembered he hardly had the chance to interact with her remotely, so it was better late than never that she get sorted.

Romulus only stood quietly as Marcus explained the situation to him, but he still wasn't too happy to hear from any of it. But he at least somewhat understood where Marcus had gotten himself into now, not that he could relate much though. The situation was only deteriorating even more though, to the point he was fairly certain that someone would die. His paper self felt that he should at least feel somewhat responsible if that were to happen, but with how things were going, even his real self would undoubtedly have trouble figuring out how to peacefully resolve this. And it didn't help that he was standing in for a man that wasn't known to be the least bit peaceful for most of his adult life, so what could he even do here?

And then the riot robot Opa showed up too, and he knew from there that if this wasn't going to end badly then, then it certainly was going to now. Then before his paper eyes, he witnessed Torii finally make a move against Marcus, through a lunged! Instinctually he quickly unsheathed the paper version of his real self's sword, ready to use with prejudice against the girl. But he realized that he could simply just grab her right then and there, and simply knock her out. But he saw a power surging through Marcus, and knew by then that it was far too late for Torii.

Lightning seemingly struck, and Torii was dead on the ground the next second.

He paused, silent. He had seen death numerous times.. Or at least his real self has. But he could still tell how meaningless this death was, it looked rather pointless on the girl's part. He guessed he didn't have to write a note then to his real self after all, a wasteful shame. He realized there were still people, way too many people nearby. He had to disperse them, tell them to go back.

"Alright she's dead, everyone lurking go back to the pavilion, now!" He finally shouted and ordered to everyone that had no real interest in being there, though no doubt some amount of people will remain. He silently looked towards Marcus for a moment, then finally spoke to him directly after his father did. "I don't blame you for this mess, if she wanted to die like fodder, let her." He tried to assure him, but he already knew it wouldn't work as well. "Did she have kin? Anyone that would avenge her? They might prove to be a problem." He then pointed out to him.

He then saw Katya running towards them, "Spoke too soon." He quickly brought his sword to cautiously bear towards her, hesitant to what she'll potentially do.

Pavilion

Nivea oddly heard thunder, and witnessed part of a flash of light over at the beach. She gulped, thinking that the worst might've happened. But she was petrified to move, maybe it was nothing? She only hoped, but she could tell already that she was clearly wrong.

by **Fvaarniimar** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 12:49 am

A loudly yowling paper construct that wasn't her magic suddenly emerged, twinning around her legs. <Not this again. Christmas isn't supposed...> The words came across as just that: words. Any extra emotion or context had to be inferred; this copy literally couldn't transmit it any better than could a well-written work of fiction.

<It's been really special, ever since the cave...a time...hope...I remember finally having friends.>

That was a really emotional bit. Was he forgetting to emote? That was in character - and anyway, he wasn't. Actually...he was nuzzling Giovenith, Nick's friend.

<Please do play along treat me normally... for the rest...but...me...glad that real Nick...isn't seeing this. Didn't see that. It was...Why do my friends keep fighting. She wants so much more than that.>

<Anyway, I'm supposed to be cheerful. I love the scratching post. Branch thing. Um...Your gift.> Unspoken, untransmitted: I'm sure he'll love it too.

Chedastan wrote:"Alright she's dead, everyone lurking go back to the pavilion, now!" He finally shouted...

<No.No.No.No.No.No.No.No.No.No. Why would...there was so much...she wanted to do. And they trusted each other. Very close friends. Almost brother and sister right. No. Why would he. Why would she. Kept telling her to stop. Oh no. Took as challenge. Torii. Torii. No no no no No nononononono...Please Giovenith can this be okay somehow please please please why why...Torii...>

Unsurprisingly, Giovenith now had a cat clinging to her leg.

by **Swith Witherward** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 1:13 am

Marcus found himself staring into his father's eyes. Or, rather, the cutout's, though it was impossible to tell the difference. Should he thank him for the compliment? Should he correct him... to explain that the choice had been his friends. Katya's angry words didn't help matters. Marcus couldn't fault her for her emotions. He would have lashed out in similar circumstances.

Romy's deep rumble broke his train of thought. Dispersing the crowd... the right thing to do. Walk away. Don't dwell too much upon it. And wasn't Romy right? He wasn't to blame. He had given her every opportunity to live. She chose to die.

"Katya is her next of kin," Marcus calmly laid a hand on Romy's wrist. "S'okay, General. Thank you for being concerned. She's in shock, and panicking. She's not going to attack me at the moment."

Opa was difficult to miss in the throng. Marcus turned towards the 'droid. "Opa, guide them back to the pavilion. Politely. And... I dunno. Make sure Katya doesn't hurt herself."

There was no reason for him to stay on the beach. There was also no reason for him to go to the pavilion. Not now. Let them adjust. Don't spoil what's left of their Christmas. You've done enough. Giovenith will never forgive you for this. There's a reason our kind remains alone. The young priest took a few steps towards the ocean, then sought out the cardboard cutout once more. Septimus was right where he'd left him.

"Brother Itum, would you like coffee?" The words came out as a dry croak. Reality began to gnaw at the corners of his mind. No more guitar duets. No more splashing in the waves, or talking about whose father did stranger things. Marcus set a hand on Septimus' shoulder. The fabric of his cloak felt very real but there wasn't any warmth radiating from it. Paper was paper, death was death, solitude was solitude, and there wasn't any crime in grieving the loss of a friend. He found himself looking into those eyes once more. He could see his own reflected in them. "I'd like coffee. And I have so many questions to ask you. If you don't mind? I'd like to step away and put my mind somewhere else a while."

Hans nuzzled Chrys' ear. Duty called? He wasn't quite sure. He knew his purpose, and thought Naomi did an excellent job with him and his companions, but did that extend to their obligations as well? He was in no mood to spend his time functioning as a cultist.

"It's Christmas," he whispered to her. "We have never had one quite to ourselves. Would you like some dinner?"

by **Torsiedelle** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 1:22 am

"You're not dying on me yet, you little shit.", Katya grumbled, continuing to press down on Torii's chest, checking for signs of breathing. Was it working? How did she know? As long as she got air into the girl's lungs...

She looked back towards Dora, and everyone else at the pavilion, cultists, and even over to the silly rabbit that had followed Marcus. "Well?", She asked, hoping for any help. "Any expertise here? Any way to get a healer?", she asked. She couldn't just run to find one and stop trying to revive Torii. That was irresponsible, right?

by **Holy Lykos** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 1:36 am

The quickness had prevented any sort of intervention from Maghrl, but... Well he wasn't very sad she was gone. He didn't know her well nor had his little experience been positive in any way. He couldn't say He was happy for her loss either. Especially with the obviously shocked woman that must be her sister close to breaking over this. And he really couldn't help her. He'd felt the light go out of her the moment the lightning struck. There was nothing left in that body. Tori was gone and unless they had something massively powerful there was no bringing her back.

The squib stood himself up and walked over to the woman, gently laying a hand on her arm and sighing. "Gone. Nothing left." He kept it short to not let his grammar get in the way of the message, looking up to the blonde woman somberly. "Very, very sorry."

by **Tiltjuice** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 1:44 am

Dora stood stunned for a moment, but only a moment. The suddenness of it all meant that it was Fate's will, and the last thing she wanted to do was step in and defy her pantheon. Not even for Katya's sister.

The weight of a hand falling on her shoulder made her jump, and she looked both ways to see nothing.

This is what you are now. An observer. To touch is to influence and to influence is to control. Beware.

The invisible hand lifted again, leaving the words echoing through her mind. She shivered. Fate had never made any sort of appearance in the world of mortals, and she gazed around once more, before moving to Katya's other side.

Chrys lowered her head, resting it against Hans' chest.

"I suppose we haven't," she admitted. "I would like that, and then perhaps we could go for a walk along the beach. It would be a waste of Cuisine's labors not to have any."

by **Torsiedelle** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 1:49 am

"I'll be damned if I give up."

Katya placed no faith in Maghrl's words. People had been hit by lightning before, and had their hearts stop, and they had come back. There was always a way to fix things. She looked to her other side, to Dora. "Suggestions? I'm not a doctor. Are there any healers nearby? I can't work alone here.", She said, more nervous than ever. "We've dealt with worse cases. We just need someone from that group that can work on this."

by **Highfort** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 1:58 am

Opa nodded at Marcus before walking over to Katya, the poor girl hunched over her sister in desperate attempts to revive her. The paper general could handle crowd dispersal; Opa's primary priority was ensuring Katya was safe. They deduced that offering assistance for Torii would soothe the young woman and ensure that she didn't try anything rash.

Before they could react, however, Maghrl cut in with the truth. Katya might react badly; retaliation against Marcus was a high possibility. However, Marcus' orders left Opa in conflict. Follow what was required of them, or do what they judged to be best.

There was no rank here, no Confederation to give them orders. Marcus had told them what to do, yes, but he was merely a young man. An intelligent one, to be sure, but lacking in the combat and crowd-control experience Opa had been subject to in their line of work. The proverbial gears in the droid's head turned, and they decided. To fulfill the mission, they would have to disobey its parameters.

The shield and cannon remained down to avoid arousing fear or aggression, but Opa moved toward Marcus, blocking the boy from Katya's view. If she did try anything rash, the droid would be able to anticipate and intercept.

Septimus noted Marcus' raw voice and offered a hand on the young man's shoulder along with what he hoped was a consoling smile, "Coffee would be good. We have a lot to talk about..."

Breaking the stare that both shared, Septimus gently ushered Marcus away from the crowd and toward the pavilion to grab food and find a quiet place to talk. As they shuffled across, Septimus thought about how to address his and Neste's relationship, and the nature of his absence from Marcus' life. A question, he supposed, would suffice to get the gears turning, "Do you know how your mother and I first met?"

by **Swith Witherward** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 2:31 am

Though the pavilion was still bustling with laughter and holiday merriment, Marcus didn't bother seeking anyone out. He dryly noted that his plate was right where he left it not more than ten minutes ago, right next to Giovenith's plate of half-split bones. Did she know? Not eager to come under her scrutiny, he steered Septimus towards a buffet table rather than deeper into the room.

They skirted the majority of revelers, and found a quiet place in the festive garden outside. Marcus chose to sit on the bench across from his father. Strong black coffee and plate of cake were set aside. The old cyborg had just offered him a means to escape, if only for a while.

"I honestly can't say if she told me the full story of how you met," he shrugged apologetically. "Small snippets come to mind. She told stories to me, in a library in her mind. She took me there when I was small, and my heart was full of sorrow."

Marcus closed his eye to shut out the lingering Christmas noise, though nothing could be done to shut down the optic. "Would be good to hear the tale, if you don't mind." Would love to hear a friendly voice. Just keep talking. Don't let me think, okay? You were never here when I was small. I need you now. Please... The young priest sighed and picked up his coffee, offering Septimus his full attention.

by **Holy Lykos** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 2:43 am

Sterling couldn't shake the feeling of the wrongness of this whole situation. The doppel was obviously not Willow. He was trying but almost trying too hard. Not only that but Sterling could tell the way he was saying and phrasing certain things... He was saying it because it was what Sterling was hoping to say. The unicorn gently picked up the box again and sighed, placing it with the ones for Giovenith. He glanced over to the tense, charged area of the beach just in time to see an arc of electricity going from one person to another, and said person crumbling to the ground. The pony froze in that moment and almost dropped the small pile he was floating in front of him on the ground.

But he managed to hold himself together. This was definitely not a happy day.

"This is weird... Willow. You're almost trying to hard to be... well yourself. I suppose this is what happens when you make a doppelganger isn't it?" The Unicorn said, glancing over his friend once more. "And I don't think its a good idea to comfort Giovenith right now. This sort of thing just needs time. Time to think. I'll have to give her the presents I got her later."

Sterling almost wished he knew more people here, or at least what to get them. So he could leave this odd, uncomfortable conversation. So he could distract himself. To spread Friendship and Happiness on what was supposed to be a wonderful day. One that was turning into almost a mockery of what it could have been.

Dammit, why couldn't the real Willow be back. He might be able to help Sterling really relax in this situation. Or at least be himself, and give comfort that way. By being the Willow he knows and loves.

By the Princesses, could something go right today?!

by **Highfort** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 3:18 am

Septimus picked up on Marcus' body language and tone; his processor concluded that the young man was clearly experiencing emotional trauma from the rather one-sided fight that had just occurred. Marcus' mercy was both a strength and a wound; it would burn him so long as he had to make hard choices that involved selecting what was right over what was convenient or what felt right.

The elder cyborg wanted to explain the path ahead to his son, but he held his tongue. Marcus had asked to hear the story, and clearly wanted to be somewhere else. Septimus shrugged, his cyborg eye confirming for him that Marcus' body language had relaxed after they'd sat down and he'd asked to hear the story. It was a holiday on an island; the boy deserved a break, if nothing else, after what happened.

"The library's nice," he smiled, thinking back on when Neste had first welcomed him into the sanctuary that had grown so familiar over the past few months, "You can get lost in there... It's so peaceful, and so full of knowledge."

He fidgeted for a moment, thinking on how to present the Confederation.

"I used to be a high-ranking official, part of the Regent Board, in the Confederation," he began, "The... Minister of Diplomacy, I guess is the closest term. Was routinely rotated to different parts of the universe to play nice with other nations, broker trade agreements and hawk our research houses. I met a lot of people, saw a lot of planets - all that, and it sort of blurs on you after a while."

"Now don't get me wrong, the Confederation was not a... good... country," he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, avoiding looking at Marcus as he explained, "It was built on the backs of subjugated worlds, fearful of our might and our wrath. We forcibly integrated many worlds and many species into our fold, without regard for their sovereignty. I... was a part of that. I led my share of Imperial Fleets and shed my share of blood."

He paused.

"I don't regret who I was, even if I regret what I did. But that was a long time ago..." Septimus continued, sipping on his own coffee, "I met Neste on a routine diplomatic mission to an outer-rim planet. Dyste, I was informed, was a reptilian nation holding a banquet for various other entities to come and establish relations, set up treaties and trade deals, and generally network with the locals. She was informed similarly, and attached to Ambassador Grevin Sage of the Nifidium. Thus, our paths... crossed."

Septimus waited for Marcus to interject. It was a lot to take in, especially in light of what had just happened on the sand.

by **Giovenith** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 4:03 am

Giovenith didn't care if it wasn't the real Nick, she scooped him up tight and ran away as fast as she could, blocking everything out. She wanted to wake up now. She wanted to open her eyes in bed with her heart beating and realize it had all been just a cruel dream.

That wasn't going happen.

She didn't need to witness what happened to feel it and to feel sick. She just kept going, still praying for an end to the dream.

Paper-Willow frowned as he watched her disappear. Whoops, he had one job. Oh well. He probably wasn't going to live for long regardless. "Ponies are such children," he told Sterling, almost dismissively so. "Not stupid, protected. The sun queen protects her followers from sights like these like no other god does. When you return to her embrace, don't leave again. Believe me, you won't find that anywhere else. Hang onto that and die within it." Somehow this didn't feel like an attempt to imitate Willow. "You'll thank me."

Meanwhile with Giovenith, she'd eventually stopped out of sight, leaned against a tree, and slide down against it with Paper-Nick still in arms. She didn't immediately cry, she instead wretched, holding back vomit.

by **The BranRiech** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 5:12 am

Drova

Torii...

He saw it all. Was she really going to be as stupid as he thought she was to actually fight Marcus? He watched her lunge in for the attack, diving for Marcus' unburdened arm, but it was over in a moment. What he assumed was going to be a constructive brawl between angered friends turned out to be Torii's last battle. She had been fighting since she was just a child, if her words were to be believed, and died doing it too.

It looked bad, at least from where Drova was.

Katya had taken to providing some care for the incapacitated girl, who Drova figured was just unconscious at this point. He realized quickly though, that the girl was just plain dead. Her heart was stopped, and Katya's increasing sense of urgency was the ultimate clue.

"Were you that fucking stupid, Torii!?" He shouted piercingly and threw a small box at the dead girl's feet, as hard as he could. It bounced of her footwear innocently enough, exposing a small tag with Torii's name on it.

by **Monfrox** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 8:06 am

It was loud, indeed. The silence. The sudden onset of nothing. It was like everything froze. Brit stood up from her seat at the table and looked over.

"Oh Christ..." She breathed.

She then ran over but soon stopped as she saw what was happening. As the others were shuffled out, she remained her stubborn self and stood there still some distance between the pavilion and the body. She felt tears welling up and she ran her hand up her head, grasping at her hairline in frustration.

"Swiss fuckin' cheese...on Christmas. On fucking Christmas!"

She, or rather the real Brit, was going to have very very strong words for Marcus if he ever went to her again. Killing was wrong, and on a Christian holiday of all days. This was almost incomprehensible. The cutout lost it's appetite and followed on with the others, trying to just maintain some form of sanity. She was failing. She knew, deep down, that this would be something to push her over the edge. It was better now, though. Better that she wasn't her. Better that she wasn't going to bottle it all up and keep it away from prying eyes. That, would kill her.

Brit wiped her eyes again, feigning a smile as she didn't know what to do. "It'll be a goddamned Christmas miracle if I don't blow my fucking brains out when I get back. Holy shit..."

Sgt. Kafka, though, had already finished her meal and looked around. These were not her people; these were not her problems to try to solve. She felt immense sorrow, wishing that she could just go somewhere and not be here. There was a suffocating air of depression and she'd rather not choke on it.

by **Chedastan** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 10:32 am

Beach

Paper Romulus had reluctantly lowered his sword on Marcus' request, but he was still wary of the girl Katya. Too often he had witnessed next of kin avenge their fallen, and almost always get killed while doing so, even if their fallen kin were complete bastards, they would die for them just the same. And that notion annoyed his paper form, and probably his real self just as much. He had looked into the memories of himself, he saw that he didn't have much in terms of anything thoughtful or caring back home when family was involved. A petty, he only hoped his real self realized that too.

He looked behind and saw that the girl was trying in vain to revive Torii, he merely only watched though, knowing how pointless the attempt was. Even if she was successful in reviving her though, what then? Him and Opa were still here, and they'll be sure she died no matter what. He turned and saw that Marcus and Septimus had left for the Pavilion, no surprise there, he would've done the same.

"I suggest you stop that, less you somehow become successful through the miracle of a cruel god and I'll be forced to make sure you won't be able to have a open casket for her." He said in a cold attempt to stop her, then looked to Opa. "The body will attract buzzards if left out for too long, I'll go get a body bag, I'm going to assume you got this covered. I'll be back in no time." He pointed out to Opa, then left to go retrieve a body bag from somewhere.

by **Giovenith** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 11:15 am

It was difficult to imagine to that just about an hour or so ago Torii and Marcus were rolling in the waves laughing together and preparing for a happy fishing trip. The memory seemed so bright and unreal. How did they go from that to her friend dead and her boyfriend her murderer? Giovenith wasn't sure how and she didn't want to spend time figuring out, for at the moment she hated and mourned the both of them for their parts in breaking her heart.

She didn't know what she was going to do past this. What sort of life was she going to go back to in the aftermath of this? Looking ahead, just the idea of sticking around made her sick. Sometimes Giovenith didn't like her life. Sometimes she hated being a god and thought her mother horrid for bringing her to life in the first place, for what sort of existence was it? She'd rather be a human in an atheistic, magicless world. She wanted to wake up every morning without the knowledge or burden of the Devourers, no pressure or the awkwardness of idolatry, no endless uncertainty for an endless lifespan, no friends inclined to kill each other. But no amount of wishing would make that possible.

The godling rubbed away bitter tears. "I don't want do any of this anymore, Nick. I don't want to be here."

by **Fvaarniimar** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 12:56 pm

<Then...maybe let's...why not stop being here.>
Unlike Nick, who really could have pulled them both into a fantasy, the cardboard clone couldn't - and he was starting to realize that.

What he could do, if rather haltingly, was paint a picture with words.

<A lot of things hold...uh...other things. A universe. At least, they can if we imagine. There's a seashell on the sand. Maybe, if we wish hard enough, we can step inside. Close your eyes. Play along. It's maybe red inside ->

The cat's eyes widened. He'd been seeing colors all day long, hadn't he?

<Or orange or the copper color...you see...we see in pennies. Maybe it's like Jupiter...full of gas...except a spiral.>

<Er, we fall. But soon, the air...orange striped air... is...dense. So dense that we can float... or fly, just by flapping. Paper wings.>

<And on the horizon...a gleaming gold palace, with light... in every color. A thousand turrets. Should we have a villain and save the day, friend. Or just explore. Would you like to continue for a bit.>

<Also, I'm going to try purring...It's supposed to help soothe cats who are upset, and people.> The purr wasn't quite Nick's, having a washboard undertone and a slight papery rustle, but was rather close - and rather reassuring in its own right.

by **Swith Witherward** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 2:07 pm

The skin of Marcus' organic hand reddened as he held the coffee mug between his palms. His thumbs met and firmly pressed together, two fat worms vying for space as they hitchhiked on the cup's rim, though the fleshy digit would be bruised come evening. He listened as his father set up the circumstances of the time.

"...and it sort of blurs on you after a while."

Truer words were never said. The Residents blurred over time. The battles all blend into one fuzzy ball of remembered pain, though time took the edge off that. All the conversations were the hum of wasps or bees, just noise with no purpose other than to get you to the next place you needed to be. It was monotonous. Yet there was a time when this bland setting had been replaced by a brutal landscape. Marcus had left as a young boy and had returned as an adult, and Torii had never asked him what had happened between then and now. Perhaps, if she had, she would have known better.

What kind of friend doesn't ask this shit? He was missing a fucking arm and two fucking legs! You'd think it would be a conversation piece! Hey, Torii, let me tell you about that time Spess Mahreens landed and tore my left leg off to goad old Thad into combat. Let me tell you about that time I used the bones of my right tibia to stab some Guardsman. Yeah, explosion took that puppy right off. Shame, too. I'd had it all of ten years! But I crawled over there and picked it up and...

"...forcibly integrated many worlds and many species into our fold, without regard for their sovereignty. I... was a part of that. I led my share of Imperial Fleets and shed my share of blood."

Septimus' pause drew the boy from his bitter memories. He glanced up, questioning the momentary silence, afraid he'd missed a question, but Septimus only sipped his coffee. It was the words that followed that most struck home with Marcus.

Regrets. There were so many sacred tomes with verses designed to dispel their influence over the priest's life. Yet regrets were part of being human. To purge oneself from regret, one must purge one's humanity. The machine is cold and calculating. It doesn't care.

He eyed Septimus. Here was a man responsible for much atrocity, if Neste's stories were to be believed. He regretted his actions. He did not regret being the person he is. He seemed to embrace that frailty rather than tearing it out of himself. Sure, the old fuck was mostly mechanical when they first met, but hadn't he discarded that body in preference for something more capable of feeling pain and regret?

Marcus looked down at his cup and found that his human thumb had gone numb from the pressure exerted upon it. The metallic side relented, mercifully allowing the blanching digit to slip towards the rim where it could safely recover under the soothing caress of its former captor. The machine does care, but only if the mind governing it does.

"I don't know if there are any good countries," he lifted his eyes to regard his father. "Plenty of countries founded by good intentions. The founders die. The intentions change. The country lives on with bad deeds in its history brought about by only the best intentions of its people. We do because our intention is good, and because we think it must be done in order for things to be right. Maybe we're wrong. We'll regret it if we are."

Maybe I'll regret the fight. No, I will regret the loss of my friend. But if I hadn't done it, it would have been someone else. Someone so pissed off by her shit that they wouldn't hesitate to kill everyone around her. So what if I'm wrong? So? Marcus sipped his coffee. "Beneficial actions often go unappreciated or are met with outright hostility. If they are appreciated, they often lead to additional requests." He blinked. What did that even...?

"Er, sorry, my processor tends to push things to the forefront. Older model. Makes me ramble sometimes," he winced in apology though the thing had been silent for hours. "Dyste... is the draconic kingdom? She was fond of it. But how did you end up together? What happened?"

by **Tiltjuice** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 2:19 pm

Katya looked back, but MB had already gone.

People tended to forget that he was a rabbit with the brain of an average human, not a human with the body of a rabbit. The sudden lightning scared him into flight, and a team of mountain climbers would later dine out for weeks on the story of a shivering, snow-encrusted creature that alternately flashed blood-red and disappeared against the translucent white of Mt. Everest and which had suddenly appeared in the middle of their base camp, eating the ice axe they'd thrown at him when they tried getting close and he'd rushed them by instinct.

by **Holy Lykos** » Mon Dec 26, 2016 3:28 pm

The Squib sighed and frowned, holding his hand out over Tori's body. While Katya couldn't see anything he was expending energy attempting to figure out just what state Tori's body was in. And again he came to the conclusion it was too far gone to recover. "Force gone, husk." He told her, rather bitterly. He hated seeing grieving family like this. It compelled him to do something about it but such things only lead to the dark side. The greed of eternal life and resurection.

"Mag no help, unable to. Squib try, yes yes. No use." He glanced up at Katya again, ears back against his head and whole body language showing his sympathy and sorrow over this outcome. A jedi never liked seeing death like this. He'd intimately felt her death too, given his focus on her and Marcus at the time. It wasn't pretty.

"Maghrl sorry."

Personification Life: EPIC (IC Thread XI) [CLOSED]

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