Red Hat: The House of Orphans

Sarcor · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sarcor** on Wed Dec 02, 2009 11:11 pm

As the giant madman swung at Nadian's scaly jaw with a curious maneuver(obviously designed to trick him), Nadian confirmed his assumption that this man did not even know the attributes of the powerful dragon form. Nadian's eyes, sharp as ever detected this feint and cleared his head just barely with his long, sinuous neck. His head was positioned at the side of the giant wizard's cranium, glimpsing the face with the peculiar facial contraption below the man's arm. Nadian's eyes glowed with internal heat and the air shimmered around his mouth.

After that, several things happened at once.

While the giant man was screaming through his infernal rubber device, Nadian literally threw up a great spout of fire, which scorched even his tongue a little. Powerful fire, too. Usually referred as hellfire, a dragon must store a high number of catalyst atoms, such as platinum to create a monstrous fireball this size.

Simultaneously, Nadian grew in size, his fireball jerked off center of his opponent's head and cleared his head to strike wastefully away at the mysterious white floor. His size restored, Nadian mourned this inconvenient growth spurt at the most unfortunate of moments, but did not complain openly. He thought he still had plenty of opportunities to crush this crazy soldier/wizard.

While Nadian marveled at his restoration, a short fat man, with everything red possible on him (with the exception of blood), and a tall, plumed hat appeared before the chaotic party of three, holding his weight on a fancy cane with a blood jewel on top. His smile was disconcerting, to say the least.

Then Nadian's eyes widened in shock, at the rivers, no, oceans, of conduits that this being had gathered. The sheer amount of energy staggered him and stilled him, forcing Nadian to switch out of his dragon form and turn to his real shape, the real form of the shapeshifters. Such effects could only come from this awe. His third brain snapped back at his reaction and scolded himself for acting so badly as to switch to his real form.

Nadian's form quietly slithered away from the red dressed man and pulled in his feelers inside him to compact his body to switch to regular human form. Slowly, ever so slowly.I don't want to attract much attention from that monster now do I?

Hopefully the man did not note a change in the flows around Nadian, hoping they were too small to detect. A foolish thought, even as it raced through his collection of brains and he started to switch to his human shape.

Tyro · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Tyro** on Thu Dec 03, 2009 6:12 am

He came and sat down in front of Sam, sitting crossed legged and beaming at the person in front of him.
"I dunno. You?" He lent forwards on his arms that were rooted on his knees. He smiled naively and completely ignorant of the fact that he was scaring the first bit of company he could remember having. He was excited.
"I mean, do you have any idea why we're here? Why there's mist everywhere? It looks like a rock video."

Arke · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Arke** on Thu Dec 03, 2009 3:15 pm

Back at my normal size, I felt nothing change other than a strange sensation as if I was falling. I quickly jumped back, my hardened eyes wary of the two opponents, and figured my time was up. I blinked once. A new man had appeared, some sort fat bastard with fancy clothes just like his superiors back at home. Except they were physically fit. Slowly, he bent down and picked up his Devenagari, and flipped it so it was in a defensive position. The man elicited a sort of respect, but he was not his superior. Even his superiors did not earn much respect, usually cowering behind the front lines pretending to think of tactics to outsmart the enemy.

"All warfare is based on deception." He had once said, trying to convince his troops he was doing something useful. We believed him, and ended up being forced to retreat after the enemy performed a pincer maneuver and wiping out half out men. We killed our officer in his sleep.

Slowly, the effect of this piece of lard's grin faded. I was never one for jokes, but I was already brimming with them. It was almost unheard of to be overweight back on my planet- everyone was drafted into the battling armies, and the women had little to eat. Being overweight meant that you had money, which was rare, and managed to evade the draft for some reason. That alone was cowardice.

This man... he only deserves as much respect as he earns. And so far, he had little to no respect for old tons o' fun here. Slowly he turned his head away, his lust for battle settled away because of this man's strange aura. "Sergeant Karoda!" his superior once said. "You care nothing for your troops!" I had replied simply, "I kill more enemies just so they have a less chance of dying. You, a coward, will never know anything about caring for troops." This egg didn't deserve anything from me.

§

RBUseless · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **RBUseless** on Fri Dec 04, 2009 10:11 am

The someone-something was speaking again. Sam couldn’t remember what he’d asked, if he’d asked, and so the answer made no sense.

The man-fox-thing’s words were all too enthusiastic, too fast, and Sam felt the last of his control slip away: before he knew it, he was sobbing quite hysterically into his hands.

It was unbecoming of a StarFleet officer to break down and cry because a situation had gone sour, but so much had happened for it to go so wrong now, just when things were starting to be mended.

The Ambassador had died, all because he had failed in his duty (a lie, of course, as there were many others there, and many others blaming themselves in much the same fashion), an entire ship had been destroyed, all but fourteen recovered and none without damage, because of some fool comment he’d made (he was a fool to think it, but his prediction in anger truly couldn’t have been more wrong), and Vas would always, always know that he’d cheated (the first true thought of the day, it would seem, but maybe not as well thought out as it could have been).

And now, now! When he’d been so close to his broken little family reaching something close to peace, the whole world fell apart and left him all alone.

He had had enough.

/*\

He had noticed the reaction of the dragon, of course, and his amusement was a dark, invisible cloud of malignant humour, wrapping around him in a poisonous mantle. His smile grew, and the monster in the Red Hat cast eyes at the assembled children; their fighting had summoned the teacher, and now hands needed surreptitious slapping.

The dragon was unhappy about being restored to full size? How disrespectful, people should know better to look a gift horse in the mouth, because said horse was inclined to bite fingers off. But that was a lesson for later, perhaps. For now, the researcher in the Red Hat was more concerned with cataloguing reactions.

The dragon (not so dragon anymore, closer to clay) was wary of him, rightly so, sensing maybe a little of what was the enigma in the Red Hat. He was appeased by the child’s reluctance to draw his attention, and laughed quite silently at the naïve belief that backing away would do anything other than catch his eye.

The inner ramblings of the soldier were abrasive to his good mood, and his smile became quite sweet when he looked upon the creature; a honey trap for a fool.

He thought many things, this deviant child, morphed and confused into one wild stream of consciousness; the symbioses of a soldier. The annalist in the Red Hat picked the confused ramblings apart, word by word, thought by thought, into one decidedly irritating truth. This child needed to be taught just who he was thinking about.

‘A foreign superior, perhaps, but a superior none the less, and one must have parents to be a bastard; your insult is quite incorrect.’

His words were the fabric of the area around him, spoken, but so very much more, and undeniably disturbing as he was answering unspoken dialogue.

‘Tactics are only cowardice to one who lacks the intelligence to do more than attack blindly, and defending against one who admittedly demands respect is flawed; the need for defence undermines any respect, so said respect only exists in theory.

‘For a theory to be more than just an idealistic fantasy, or a bias declaration of morals by one who has none, said theory must be examined by a rational and logical consciousness. And there is a substantial amount of doubt when it comes to attributing logic to one who has no head for tactics, and no knowledge of respect.’

He continued to smile, the softness of his voice and the sharp cane of his veiled wit demanding silence until he was quite done. He dared them to interrupt with every thread of his being, and thus; every thread of the reality around them. It sang with his desire for quiet while he was speaking.

‘Deception is only another form of reality; for every being possessing imagination and opinion weaves a universe of deception in which to live our their lives. Reality, existence: nothing but a lie. Belief is the One Truth.’

He moved forward a little; raising his leg and having the world shift under him to accommodate; this was his reality, and he moved for no one.

‘The servant that kills his master is both ingenious and a fool; a colony of ants could overpower the queen, but when the queen falls, they are nothing but mindless, pointless drones. Their lives are to serve her, and without her, they are as good as nonexistent; they have no purpose.

‘And cowardice, yet again, talk of wealth and avoidance. Belief, speculation and assumption often lead to fact; so beware.’

He turned his back to the soldier, swinging the painted face of the world about, and cast an eye upon the creature of clay; now taking form.

‘Prey, when sighting a predator, learns early not to move, or , meets a swift end in sharp jaws. Be still, for the monsters will catch you in your sleep, child: it is all fairytales here.’

Tyro · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Tyro** on Fri Dec 04, 2009 11:42 am

Tyro satred at the man, who'd now burst into tears. What? He didn't say anything too distressing, did he? Un sure of what to do and hugely uncomfortable with doing nothing but spectating, he move himself round and sat next to him. With a hesitent start, he put his arm around the man's shoulders. In an effort to console the man, he tried to think of something simpathetic. Something...comforting. He was struggling.
"Hey! Its alright. What's the problem?" And he was all out...

TFairy · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **TFairy** on Fri Dec 04, 2009 12:00 pm

Alish had been angry at first when the shape-shifter had snatched her--but she didn't have time to swipe at him. Or did she really want to? It growled at her, and returned to fighting the giant soldier. Alish sighed in defeat, dragging herself up from the ground, deciding against suicide attempts in the future. Maybe the Hunter had dragged her back to limbo again, to die here would mean she could never come back.
The thought echoed around Alish's empty head again, making her cringe in despair. It was a tempting thought, to just tell the bounty hunter that he could do anything to her, as long as he took her out of the desolate, empty, white place.

That's when the shapeshifter began to grow, and the soldier began to shrink back to their original sizes. Alish waited a little, but her hope began to die as the seconds passed, and a large man appeared in with the three. He was smiling.
The pirate gripped her gun tighter, instinctively raising it. None of the 'good guys' smiled at the scene of a fight. Her mouth twitched slightly, realizing the irony of her last thought. She was one of the 'bad guys', at least in the eyes of the government. He even looked a bit like a government, but he had an air of true power, rather than the commanded respect that the men of government demanded. Alish lowered her weapon, feeling a certain amount of respect for the man.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the shape-shifter shape-shifting, she missed the first transformation, but the second was human.
The man spoke, and it was like his being-- it seemed to demand respect, but at the same time deserved it. He confused the ex-captain. Wordplay was Gabriel's thing, not Alish's.
There was a slight change in the realm and Alish stepped back, a cold chill running down her spine.
"Who are you exactly? What the hell do you want with me anyway. You don't look like a hunter."

RBUseless · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **RBUseless** on Fri Dec 04, 2009 12:34 pm

Clumsy comfort from an unknown alien… surprisingly, Sam actually felt himself calming down, getting a grip again. How long had it honestly been since someone had told him that it was alright? Not all that long, probably, but he had a tendency not to believe them. ‘It’s alright’ had become something of a joke of late, because as much as anyone said it, no one was alright at all.

But here? With someone that he didn’t know and that didn’t know him, when all there was was honest comfort between strangers… he could actually find some peace in that. He didn’t have to put on a brave face for this creature, he didn’t have to be a lover or a father or an officer; right here, right now all he had to be was Sam.

It had been far, far too long since he’d been allowed to just be Sam.

Mopping his eyes with a red-shirted sleeve, Sam pulled himself together, but didn’t pull away from the comforting arm just yet. He wasn’t ready to give up the small amount of warmth he’d manage to find, but he wasn’t ready to tell the whole truth, either.

“I’m sorry.” That was honest, but not an answer. Sam wasn’t really all that good at lying. “Shouldn’t have fallen apart like that. I’m Sam, and I haven’t got a clue where we are.”

That was… lame, but he hoped that it would be enough.

/*\

Things were beginning to move, they were starting to grow and change, and the fragile illusion of the house of cards was beginning to give way to a real universe, shaped by the Red Hat Construct’s children.

Blocks, long dormant in indecision, were beginning to tumble into reality, building a growing structure.

The Metaphors woke.

/*\

A tiny red butterfly, formed from a feather on a Red Hat, took to the rapidly forming skies, flitting down into a grove of trees and landing on the green skirt of a hazelnut. Cleaning its little face, it watched as a being of the forest was drawn in by the wood; sacrificed to form the foundations of the trees.

Leaves, a carpet of grass, sky, all bloomed into life; sensations leaping up. Rushing wind, a canopy of shading green and the beginnings of little creatures, birdsong and treesong; reality was giving birth.

Taking to the air again, the little insect wafted down to land on the singed ear of the clearing’s one remaining occupant.

((guys with Red Hat, I’ll have him reply once you’ve all posted))

Tyro · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Tyro** on Fri Dec 04, 2009 1:31 pm

"No its OK." He said as he began to rub Sam's back. "I don't mind...I don't know who I am by the way so I can't give you a name. I don't know how I got here and I can't remember anything before I arrived. Providing that there's anything to remember." He said and looked up. The Forest had woken up it would seem. He could hear a bird sing its little heart out somewhere distant. He could here some movement in the dence trees above. He thought he caught a glimpse of a squirrel too. This place felt...real all of a sudden.

Arke · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Arke** on Fri Dec 04, 2009 3:02 pm

I did not respond. I did not flinch. Apparently, old Bloodhat could read into his mind. I was never one for superstition, but this... place, was probably his place. Being so, I was obviously out of line to speak to him. However, such dancing wordplay only strengthened his stance against Potbelly over there.

"I'm sorry." I drawled sarcastically, "I didn't think I'd need to be able to dance with words to be on par with you." I kept my nose down, not up. Wordplay was for the officers and higher ups. I did not deny that I knew what they meant, and I probably could have gotten away with feigning ignorance to his rambling. Unfortunately, old Bloodhat could hear my thoughts.

"I care not for your metaphors. I am a soldier. You tell me these things, and I'll ignore them and kill you if my orders were to. Your cryptic insults can go back in your mouth, potbelly." I kept my sentences short. This... god was enigmatic. However, I decided not to try thinking about anything, much. It was easy, since I lived a life around war. I was definitely more intelligent than most of my brute comrades. "Old Tons o' fun should get back on his high chair and make us dance for him like he should, rather than lecturing a soldier that has death facing him in the face now wherever he goes." I turned away.

Potbelly here probably know who he was. I certainly didn't. However, I was never going to ask him. And if he wanted to remain unmolested, Lard tummy won't bring it up either unless Dragon boy and Yo-ho Pirate Girl was long gone. Slowly, I began to put my thoughts of Lard tummy away in my head. This man was not important to me. He could do all he wanted. But unless he used his mystical sorcery which makes him the omniscient being that controls this place to make him submit, he will never acknowledge him. He just simply didn't deserve it from him. Dragon boy earned a grudging one, for obvious reasons. However, he didn't care much for Parrot Pet Pirate girl over there.

§

Sarcor · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sarcor** on Fri Dec 04, 2009 8:02 pm

Nadian, in response to the Red Being's reply, grew flustered and angry at the Red Being's rebuke.

I am NOT prey!, he thought indignantly. Indeed, shapeshifters were the highest echelon of the ecosystem back in his world. Apart from humans, of course. Making a statement like that to shapeshifter, whether it be human or else, was the highest insult. A low hiss escaped Nadian's mouth before he could stop his foolish action.

Nadian glowered and held silent as he contemplated the conversation between the soldier and the Red Being. Turning his attention to another topic, Nadian muttered inside his head about how this whole reality was the Red Being's to manipulate.

Tread carefully. Very, very carefully....

Nadian was so startled he jumped, his human form shook visibly. A shiver ran down his flexible spine. The thought had appeared in his third brain, coaxing him to change his mood from angry red to a smooth calm, ocean blue.

Smoothed over, Nadian mused,What is his purpose? I will find this out. It may very well be the most important question of them all. Nadian's first brain was stretched with so many questions.

Nadian finally calmed down to view his surroundings once more. The soldier looked angry and gave a sharp, but dull witted rebuke. The girl spoke in her weird language, Nadian had no idea what she was saying, and He learned enough to stand still, as to try to give the look that he was following directions.

Suddenly, the Red Being's statement flashed back in his head...

Fairy tales?

Dan-Nal-Khali · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Dan-Nal-Khali** on Mon Dec 07, 2009 5:27 pm

A yelp, sharp, strangled and terribly afraid cut through the rapidly forming grove as Valentine panicked, racing in an anxious, aerial circle as too many bad things happened at once. He was scared -more scared that he had been in a very long time- this was not NORMAL!

It was a nightmare, it had to be; some sort of demented, far too real to be true hallucination that he’d somehow succumbed to. This was all his fears made real in one place, a warped combination to shatter his (weak! fragile!) courage and expose his cowardly heart.

A world growing from nothing scared him, as not even the strongest of his kind (Eden! Black. ...Silver? ...help me...) could hold claim to such power. Trees and grass, birdsong and light, no Puppet had the ability to construct these things so perfectly and at such speed. Only a God (he shuddered to think it, he was not one of the fanatics, or even a believer, how could he live with himself if he believed he was constantly being judged?) could do such things.

Somewhere deep inside his panicking consciousness, he felt guilt; the girl he had been making a tentative alliance with not moments before was being consumed before his very eyes, and he made no move to stop it. He was too afraid of the trees.

Nuts. They were all around him, feeding his nightmare far more vigorously than any godlike power or rapid devouring of flesh. He had two shots, two chances, to antidotes to their poison, and then he was done. A powerful allergy to the foundations of the world around him, two valiant attempts at survival, and then inevitable, pathetically worthless death.

He dithered, hovering in the air, unwilling to touch the grass but terrified of attempted escape, afraid that this world would somehow leap down and bite him with its deadly fangs. His logical mind (the mind of a Captain, fast as the wind) deserted him in the face of a raw and primal fear.

He didn’t even notice the touch of the red butterfly as it landed on his ear.

RBUseless · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **RBUseless** on Tue Dec 15, 2009 7:50 am

Of magic and mosquito child, his house was lacking an orphan, it would seem. On butterfly wings, he had surveyed his growing house, even as he danced a corporeal waltz amongst his children. One had been sacrificed for the foundations, and he couldn’t say he felt anything at all at her passing. Imp child was commanded, imp child went; it was the reaction that was golden.

Still, that left his compliment lacking, and he had already had to remove one unsavoury from his class; he need another to fill the gap; roommates for the hurricane mosquito. That child was far too interesting to be left alone; the first one so honest in his fear.

And it was that fear that the searcher in the Red Hat locked onto. A child that had felt fear, and made choices based on embarrassment alone. A child that had felt control over the uncontrollable. A child that had the potential to understand the mystery in the Red Hat; she was a loaded gun, a bullet to his immoral (only one letter short, add a T; the end of Red Hat and see what you find, grow a house and a world with sadist’s bricks and an illusionary mortar) brain, and he revelled in it. The others were the detectives, she the expert witness; would they find him? Would they know? Bullets in his brain, a blood Red Hat falling; he could see it, but never did he feel afraid.

She had seen the mosquito kind in her own reality, and he was curious as to how she would react to the hurricane flashing between the trees; acceptance or fear; either would result in a response. A mosquito keeping a firefly in a cage, mistrust and manipulation; to be faced with another in an unfamiliar place, when the aforementioned other was hanging on a hair trigger? The performer in the Red Hat set the stage.

He left the mosquito where he was; running fearful laps in an orchard of poison apples, as he painted the firefly into place. Vlgar control was for Red Hat alone, but he left her with what remained, and the promise of the return of her skill at a later date; to control what he was already controlling, shaping the orphanage, it was a dangerous game indeed. For just as reality liked to slap the hands of naughty children, as did the schoolmaster in the Red Hat.

With little more than a twitch of a smile in his corporeal form, he snatched his latest orphan and planted her on the ground of the clearing in the hazel wood; directly in the path of the distressed vampire.

/*\

Sam blinked in surprise, a little worried that his new companion didn’t even seem to remember his own name, for as much as his recent recollections were causing him pain, Sam was terrified of the idea of losing them.

Swallowing thickly, he took his first good look around; a forest, for all intents and purposes. He certainly wasn’t at SpaceDock now.

“I’m Sam; Lieutenant Samuel James Barkley. Security. God… I’ve probably already told you that. I’m so sorry…”

He was rambling again, but at least he was more in control now. He got to his feet (reluctantly, Vas was in no condition for simple comfort, and he was a father/carer/soul-provider now, there wasn’t time to fall apart) and took a long look around.

“We need to find out where we are and how we get back; if we’ve been beamed somewhere from our homes, then chances are there are people out to do us harm, so we need to keep moving.”

He extracted his phaser, thankfully still where it should be on his belt (though his communicator was lost) and tried not to think of the last times he’d used it… or not, as the case may be.

…a boring meeting, he was so bored, thinking of his bed and Vas back home. The Ambassadors were talking about very little, and had been for hours when they broke up for a recess. Dygon and Betel were talking, as always, only drawing the eye due to the fierce contrast of stark white and vibrant red amongst the sea of important people Sam didn’t understand…

…and then there was chaos, a ring forming around an Ambassador bleeding to death, his lover (and it scared Sam to his core, because nobody had ever known) holding him, tearless but heartbroken for all to see. Assassins gone, officers running fruitlessly in all directions; it had been a farce, and Sam had never drawn his weapon once…

…standing on a frozen planet; Siberia in world form, they had searched vainly for survivors. The assassins had escaped, taking the ship (an entire ship! Hundreds dead in a second!) in pursuit down in the process. He was on the planet, because Vas had been on that ship, and they had never gotten around to getting married, even though he had very little hope when so many had died. Sam had never been a lucky man…

…he was partnered with a medic, and he couldn’t remember her name. It was stupid, stupid Stupid Sam, because he should have known her name, and he should have been able to protect her from the -thing- that leaped out of the blizzard…

…a broken girl (and she was a girl, so, so young) in his arms, a creature dead, phaser burns sizzling a furred skull but not before it had crushed her probably beyond repair, he had walked. He’d lied to her, told her that they would be fine, that they’d find someone. There were other medics and security officers out there, they’d find them…

…he never bargained on finding Vas, laying for dead in the snow instead…

…never imagined he’d be wild eyed and pointing that phaser, set to kill, at his superior officer as the man tried to help them…

…or at his own head… but that was selfish…

Shaking his head (to remove the feeling of that phaser pressed against this temple) he smiled tightly at the fox-being beside him.

“You probably have better hearing that me; keep your ears open.”

/*\

Symbioses and a soldier; both steeped in foolish disrespect. The sergeant major in the Red Hat was displeased with the lack of discipline. Respect for you fellow officers but not for your commanding officer; unacceptable. A so called mindless soldier, apparently good for killing and nothing else; there would be no elaborate punishment for this one; just blinding, all consuming pain.

He smiled, portly and for all to see, gracious in the face of the soldier’s sneering and turned back.

‘Rude children find themselves with soap between their teeth, but no more words will be for you, if you so desire it.’

The clay child was quick to think dangerous thoughts, but also quick to regret them, and there were ideas there; clever ideas with great potential. The professor in the Red Hat decided to let that one be, offering the child a bland smile and planting the knowledge required to understand the speech of the girl into place; communication was the key, and it would be interesting to watch.

…and on the topic of the girl… she was speaking to him… demanding, as a matter of fact.

Turning to face his butterfly child; fragile painted wings, immortality in fairy tales, he viewed her with unfeeling eyes.

‘I am what I am, no more, no less. I look as I look and I have an appearance that is perhaps deceptive, but in the same time totally apt. What do I want? What does any creature want, truly? What do you want?’

Unblinking, he viewed her, examining her with cool intent; punishment or reward, that truly was the question.

((there we go, guys, sorry it took so long, and we have a new player, so check out her profile on the OOC when you have time. There may be mistakes, because I've not slept in far too long, but I'll sort those out later))

SpearedGrave1 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SpearedGrave1** on Wed Dec 16, 2009 4:27 am

Sprawled out on a bed of light grass the little Namoi was sound asleep with a shallow snore emitting from her. There was a slight smile on her face while her mind mixed about in its happy dream world. The sun was playing its part in giving her the warm of a good blanket and all was right in the world.

But it wasn’t.

With a gasp for air Namoi sprung to life. Glancing around in a frenzied manner as her brain raced to understand what her eyes perceived. She was in a forest? Not in a plush car driving through the city streets, master by her side, as her last memory told her.

“What… the…?” the words slowly escaping with a breath of disbelief while she collected herself. All her limbs checked out but there was this nagging feeling of loss in her heart that was implacable. It was a familiar feeling, something she’d battle against for years now, but this time it felt so much more complete. A few tears rolling down her cheek and with a trivial sob she brushed it away. Things weren’t right so this was no time to get all mushy. Snatching up her nearby case she stood up to full height taking in more of the surroundings. The unknown causing her to draw out her shotgun, just to be on the safe side.

Ok time to figure out just what happened. Namoi told herself as she reached into the magical tapestry of time. With a blink of an eye she let her consciousness roll back the missing minutes in search for clues. The probe was meant with a brick wall of reeling pain. Throwing a hand up to her forehead with a cry and a wheeze at the unexpected needles poking around inside her skull. It was a sensational backfire that ate up a good minute to recover from. There was a perfectly logical reason for it unknown to Namoi. This was a different time and a different place and she had just tried to remember from point zero to point zero. The attempt wasn’t a very friendly thing for a human brain to warp itself around. It scared her though. Magic that had become second nature just backfired without any real reason. The daze from the backlash sent her stumbling about ending finally in a grove with what appeared to be a floating man at its center. There was no time to think rationally as she wiped around raising her weapon at the company. With a metallic slide of the gun’s forestock a round was in the chamber, ready to fire. The man looked panicky but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat.

“Who are you!?... No, forget that! Where’s Mary!?” Namoi pushed the words out with all the fire that her tongue could muster. At the thought of Mary her heart stabbed with emotion. Something, maybe the blood, told her that Mary was anywhere but here. Was she dead? No… Maybe? The emotional wave of her cascaded over her, wither they were true or not, this individual had just received the blame. She could feel the tiny droplets of tears forming in her eyes while giving the shotgun a small nudged forward not giving the man any time to rebuttal “You got about ten seconds before I start dishing out the gift of hot lead!” Namoi lied… she was only going to give him about five really, depending on how convincing his reply.

Tyro · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Tyro** on Wed Dec 16, 2009 10:25 am

"Umm...Sure..." He said as he stood, oblivious to Sam's little mental torture at the hands of the past. He Simply stuffed his hands into his pockets then moved to Sam's side.
"All I hear is birds and the wind. Nothing major." He said. "Where too?"

Dan-Nal-Khali · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Dan-Nal-Khali** on Sun Dec 20, 2009 2:12 pm

Valentine was panicking, but he was a soldier, and certain things were ingrained by this point. With a snarl, he rounded on the creature pointing a gun at him, baring his teeth in fierce aggression despite his increasingly poor condition. Covered in burns, dehydrated and frightened, he was in fact more dangerous than he would usually be. His fellow Captains were missing, the Generals had yet to arrive to pull him out, and his position was rather precarious.

Growling, he kept his position, swollen, red-rimmed green eyes flashing. It was a woman, and by the look of that gun; a Hunter. Disgusting. He’d suffocate the filthy thing before it had a chance to ask another arrogantly demanding question; kissing the air from its lungs and watching it choke. He’d call his Doll to his hands and send its head flopping to the grass before it even had the chance to look surprised.

With these thoughts in mind (it was easier to think aggressively than face his fear at this point), and not being one to waste time, he hissed in response to her questioning, not even bothering to answer her.

“Put the fucking gun down.”

There was a threat in his words, a threat more powerful than his faltering Puppet; he was tired, so tired, thirsty and hungry, and his Doll was beginning to flag under the strain.

RBUseless · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **RBUseless** on Sun Dec 20, 2009 2:26 pm

A fight was breaking out, and the spectator in the Red Hat turned his attention to the amphitheatre of trees where mosquito and mosquito’s pet were facing off with angry, frightened thoughts and words. The gnat, the puff of air in a jar, was beginning to wear on his patients; the creature had done little but panic and flap for some time, and the child in the Red Hat was growing impatient. He readied a magnifying glass over the ant hill.

So, with the relish of a slighted child, he seized the child’s toy; the puppet doll, the puff of air that the badly behaved orphan seemed so fond of, and locked it away. Confiscated until the child learned to be more pleasing to the audience in the Red Hat.

His little detective, on the other hand, was being nothing less than brilliant; waving her little gun around and speaking big words that were far from honest, even to herself. She was dangerous to him, with her hidden knowledge, such unimportant little things she knew, but more than enough to form a pistol to rest against his head.

He laced suspicion into her mind, only a little, for there was enough already. Making soft suggestions, he prompted gently, aiming to advance her distrust for the mosquito. The artist in the Red Hat subtly suggested that the mosquito looked just that little bit more aggressive, that little bit more fierce, and then sat back to watch the results.

Sarcor · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sarcor** on Sun Dec 20, 2009 9:17 pm

Nadian felt a chill go through his form as the Red Being smiled. That smile did not reach his eyes. Liar.

As the Red Being answered the female with vague philosophical questions, Nadian raced through all he ever experienced in his mind and drew up a blank as to what this existence actually was. There was nothing like it. It was even difficult to look directly at the Red Being because of the sheer magnitude of power held within him. Nadian marveled at how the power didn't burst the perimeter of the Being's shape.

For the first time since the Red Being appeared, Nadian spoke up, using a deeper than natural voice to call attention. Hopefully this didn't kill him.

"Why are we here?"

Weariness tugged at his aching muscles. Tendons creaked in protest to the extensive physical exertion. But Nadian had to know. He HAD to know why. It was the important one of all.

SpearedGrave1 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SpearedGrave1** on Wed Dec 23, 2009 3:16 am

Namoi watched as her opponent composed himself from a scared little beast into a menacing threatening form. The situation reminded her of two animals squaring off, like on one of those nature shows she would enjoy with a bowl of popcorn. Yum yum. But it was plain to see that this one was fully at the disadvantage. It looked tired, weak, and bathed in odd burns. Backed into a corner too, making the encounter all the more risky. But this observation didn’t help to explain anything or ease the pressure of anxiety. With a gentle shift she took a slow step to her left while the barrel of her gun stayed centered on the creature. The snarling display with the flash of red in the eyes. There was a hint of surprise to even hear it talk. No answers, just demands, fine. She would have to get her own.

To the world she would just blink, for just a fraction of a second, but in her mind she willed forth a sixth sense. It was the most basic of spells referred too as Mage Sight. When her eyelids slide back open the view was nothing she could have predicted. The grove was aglow with the manifested will of another being. From the trees down to the grass, even the air floating about. All of it written in an alien tongue. Although she couldn’t direct her attention to the details with the individual in front of her, but just the sight from the corner of her eyes was enough. And this being, this man, his direction was exploding with a brilliant magical aura. (There’s a little red butterfly somewhere in that area.) Namoi’s mind raced to put everything together. This place was not her world according to the way reality was structured. The man was/is floating, covered in burns and dripping with magic. Great… this guys a mage. It was the only logical conclusion her mind and experiences could come up with. An enemy from her homeworld must have suckered this poor sap into warping her into some kinda limboland. The sores on his body must be paradox at work, after-all weaving such a massive spell would have easily left the marks. Odd that he was so animal like, the effort must of really messed with his head. A sick feeling set in. If she killed him then it could very well mean being trapped here for years. Even so, she was not going to let herself be subject to his mercy.

With a twitch, her aim adjusted to Valentine’s right leg. There was still a tone of irritation to Namoi’s voice. “Sorry dear colleague, wrong answer.” She let her finger press tight on the trigger sending out a ball of buckshot. With luck it should wound him long enough to get the truth out of him. And that could mean an easy ticket out of here. There was enough sizing up for both sides, now was the time to clash.

Arke · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Arke** on Wed Dec 23, 2009 4:11 pm

Everything was suddenly blotted out. It took only a fraction of a second to realize his body was acting reflexively. It took even less to feel the pain that Lard-Gut inflicted on him. It burned, clotting over every conscious thought and replacing it with the shrill screeches of protesting nerve cells. Every second was an eternity, and it felt like he was skinned, flayed, then electrocuted with a side dish of freezing and arsenic poured into his open mouth.

I couldn't hear myself think, let alone hear myself cry out in pain. In war, there was torture. But no sort of training could even begin to prepare me for this much pain. If I could think, I would be cursing Tons o' fun and hoping he burns in hell after I was done with him. However, there was too much pain, and therefore I couldn't think hatefully, or even protest. I didn't want to protest. It was a sign of weakness.

The pain sent my body on red alert, it's functions screaming as it desperately tried to located the source and stop it. There was no source, and my body was left to burn in eternal hell, in the middle of nowhere- unable to die fighting. Fighting. The only opponent was the burning. The feeling no soldier would ever forget- the kind that could only be thought up by the most crazed sentient being possible. I couldn't feel my body hit the ground. This was all in the course of a few seconds.

With my brain running at the speed of thought, it clicked constantly. Fragments rushed past my mind, half-formed simple plots of revenge and memories of a long-lost past. Wait a minute. I didn't have a past other than fighting. With strenuous effort, I pushed the burning to the back of my mind for only a few seconds to examine these unknown shrapnel of clicking nerve signals. Not long enough. A glimpse of an unknown, slightly cold feeling backround and the sight of a geometrical square hole in a man's head. That was it.

I returned unwillingly to the burning. Nothing I tried or will try would ever work, so I resigned myself to the pain. In response, my body's screams fell to dull moans as I completely gave up trying to resist the fire. The muscles stopped seizing up and instead, started to twitch occasionally while limp on the ground- as if electrocuted.

If I could feel, I could feel shame. If I could see, I shouldn't.

....Steel...

§

Dan-Nal-Khali · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Dan-Nal-Khali** on Sat Dec 26, 2009 8:31 pm

Truthfully, Valentine never stood a chance; because the second that he went to dash out of the way of the incoming shot, his Puppet gave out on him. He tumbled, his ability to levitate suddenly non-existent, falling straight into a hail of buckshot.

…and despite being a vampire, and a celebrated Captain, Valentine screamed…

He hit the ground with a sick, gasping thud, twisted into a strange angle, bleeding freely from a splay of puncture marks all across his right side. He couldn’t breath; confused about how to do so without his Puppet, shock telling him that it was impossible, despite the fact that it was a lie; all that was keeping him from drawing breath was himself. He couldn’t rise, despite a nagging, desperate instinct telling him to flee or prepare for battle, so he remained in place, dark blood staining the grass.

Squinted, hazy green eyes swung up, searching for something (what, Val didn’t know) and found the bleary face of a girl. Slowly, hopelessly, he bared his fangs.

Red Hat: The House of Orphans

a topic in Uncategorized Roleplay, a part of the RPG forum.

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