Dao Ma's Solo Thing

G

GuanYue

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I'm not entirely sure how this works? But I'll be using this thread as rp posts of my characters as they happen in my head-- I've got a lot of scenes and thoughts that run through my head but I never really get to rp them out whether it be I'm just no good at one x one's, the rp dies or can never get to that point, or it just doesn't plain fit anywhere. So... yeah. Idk. Random rp things. Any questions or comments, PM me please! If any of this makes you interested in any of my characters, feel free to PM me about them. xD
 
GABE

I think I've finally found words to describe how I feel. Like, it's really hard to express something you feel so deeply, but don't know how to say, y'know? Maybe it's because I've been doing some soul searching or something, that I've finally come to understand my feelings and am able to put words to it. Those words though, are a little bit, well, cold. Dark. Hollow. It hurts to say, but it's the truth.

I am alone. I have always been alone.

I guess I should explain a little. I guess I kind of feel like rambling a bit. Maybe it's venting to get it off my chest. This weakness that hides inside of me. I try to keep it away and think optimistically, but... some days it's hard. Real hard.

Maybe I'm starting to accept the idea that I was meant to be alone. My own mother didn't want me. The orphanage that I love and cherished so much never really wanted me either. I was the black sheep, for what reasons, I just could never understand. Only Sister Agnes cared, but even still, she had to keep her distance. I understand now, that she had an image to upkeep. She was the head sister at St. Abigail's, and she had to show her strength in her stoicism. As a kid, I could never understand why she would say mean things, but behind closed doors, act so kind to me. I'm grateful for her. But she was just the start of my lesson of being alone.

No matter what path my life has taken, I've been destined to love and love again. Sometimes I will be loved back, but in the end, I'm left alone. It hurts... and each time, I've had a bittersweet ending.

Haha, maybe it's a curse that I have with British women or something. The first-- my first real crush and... well to this day, my first real love... I don't know. We've had several opportunities and... most of the time they've fallen short. Looking back now... I find it so silly I couldn't realize she had liked me back. All I wanted to do for the longest time was have her acknowledge me for me. Not some kid. Not just a sidekick. I wanted to be her equal, and someone worthy of her time and passion. Her drive drove me as well. She was inspirational to me in whatever she did. She was a great vigilante and and even greater role model. She stuck to her guns and her morals were strong. She was... just so cool, haha. Even when times got dark, she tried to hold it together.

I love her still, really. And though sometimes we live, the most prominent and crucial moment we've had together... was the time she died. I-It hurts to even think about. I'm-I'm tearing up about it right now. She... She died protecting me, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. I tried. I tried to get back to her after she was shot through the head, right before my eyes. Everyone held me back. Once we were out of the building and back at base... reality hit. She was gone. Whatever moments we had before that mission was the last moments I would ever have with her. And that broke my heart. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. Sparring didn't even help. I lost a part of myself with her then. And even though, there was a miraculous moment where an impossible wish was granted... all I had was an interaction with a ghost. A last moment to clarify our feelings. Finally, we were on the same page. But... that didn't exactly fill the hole in my heart. She would be physically gone after that. No progressing, just forever stuck in a stasis. Though I knew she would still be with me in spirit, and I would visit her grave forever... I was still, in the end... alone.

My second interaction with a British woman was... a large moral gray at best. I had grown to love her, despite her not loving herself. It wasn't insecurities really... but she just... didn't want to be human anymore. I can't begin to understand her situation. Everything that happened to her to make her come to the conclusion that her world of cybernetics were better than anything humanity could give. But I tried to show her. I really did try. Parts of my own body were sacrificed to show to her that somewhere in the world, someone cared about her for her. She mended me and I never felt resentment toward her. In the end, I felt like I made it with her. But at the same time... I ended up sacrificing a lot of my moral standings for more fluid ones. I had to try and understand her world. The darker side of things. The underworld that I had only scratched the surface with in my underground fighting.

As much as I save her, she's saved me as well. I was damaged, but she always came back to try and fix what she broke of me. Maybe she felt bad, but that guilt showed she still hung on to something human.

Time passed and we faded in and out of focus several times. Each time, I became more of a background piece. I felt... almost like a sidekick. A background lover. A comforter or back to being a bed warmer as she continued her tycoon endeavors. I suppose I didn't mind for a while. She was going to do what she was going to. But I relented so that she could succeed. I guess... I just became that check and piece to remind her that there's still human left in her. I didn't mind that, but ultimately our relationship became... a business? Not bad, but... distant in a way. We became alone together. But still, alone.

My worlds came crashing when the two women met. I was stuck in the middle of what used to be a camaraderie that turned into a bitter rivalry. I hated myself and more than anything, wanted to stop existing to stop the pain and suffering I had caused. In a way, I did. There was no way I could make amends, and even though there came an agreement in the end, it was almost empty. We all split ways, and went back to our own relationships. But after that, none of us ever really were the same. We were all betrayed, and all alone. Even worse, I felt like a traitor.

I searched for love and acceptance elsewhere. A crossdressing male, and even a veteran hero became new adventures. I grew to love them, even if the feelings were one-sided at first. And I loved them like I loved the other two--unconditionally. It was sweet... but became a fading taste when time went by and our focus was passed over. I will always love them and what strength they've brought me. But even still, I'm on my own again.

There's very little I truly regret in life. I love every person that came into my life and took in whatever impact they left on me. They've helped me become what I am today, and made me realize that I'm worth a damn. But... I don't know. I feel.... incomplete.

Maybe... heh... I'm so selfish. I'm scared of being completely and entirely alone. Maybe that makes me a coward. I don't know. Every time I think about it, those self doubts come back. I push them away, and maybe I'm just beginning to accept... I will in the end, be alone.
 
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Goodbye

The small office room smelled like fresh cigarettes once again. Ash tray was full, and lights were illuminating with a soft yellow glow. Papers were spread all across the desk, but one parchment envelope stood out among the pristine white documents. Wax seal broken and letter opened, emerald eyes scanned over the contents. What life was left in them seemed to drain, leaving a darkness as if death itself had taken all vitality within him.

Dear Leo,

I have taken a lot of time to find myself, and I thank you for giving that to me. I've reflected on everything up to this point-- and it is amazing how clearly I can recollect now. Sugar, I can even remember our first meeting. When you met my mother and sister and brothers. Even when you took Guadalupe out for the first time to have a shootout with my crazy ex. Those were the good old memories. But, I also remember the bad ones. The dark ones that have scared me to the very core and changed me into the monster of a concoction I am today. I realized how much suffering I've caused and how much suffering I endure. Honestly, hun, I can't do it anymore. The Feb you knew and loved is long gone. You've tried so hard to save me, but sweetheart, there's no saving me this time. I've come to accept that. I don't want you to suffer anymore either. I can't bind you to something broken with no way to fix. I am going to go away, and there is no coming back. This is the end of the line for me, and I have completely accepted that.

I love you, and always will love you. I need you to do this at least, for me. I need you to move on. Live your life without being bound in chains. Be free to live.

So this is goodbye, Leo.

Yours truly, February Summers

A whirlwind of emotions filled the Italian man. But all of them were frozen in place from shock. The letter slipped from his hands and dropped down to the desk. Strong hands grew weak, shaking as they threaded through long dark wavy hair. His head tilted forward, eyes closed as he sucked in a breath as best as he could. Everything in his chest ached with a pain he had never really felt before. Loss was something natural in life, but this loss... was very surreal.

It felt like he had endured years of suffering. Years of trying. Years of struggle to try and make things work. Maybe it wasn't even that long. He couldn't be so sure anymore. All he knew was that his Feb had gone and come back as something he couldn't even recognize. Her mind, body and spirit had broken and any kind of progress he made in trying to reconstruct her mind easily became shattered again through anxiety and unsuspecting triggers. It was maddening, and several times he even lost hope. But he kept trying. He felt obligated to. It was his duty as a friend, lover, and significant other. But this just... was something he couldn't fix.

There wasn't a sense of relief despite one suffering ending. It was almost like it was another torment. He had failed someone again. He had failed.

Tears stained the letter below, making the ink bleed into the parchment. No sounds escaped him. The only movements were his fingers curling further into his hair and his arms tucking his head further down until he rested his forehead against the desk. Shoulders shook, and finally, the first of many sobs broke through. This was a bitter goodbye, that he would only be forced to accept. He knew that she was gone with no return. There was no more. And he would be forced to live on and find that life has more open doors.

This was the goodbye.
An ending to a long running story.
And a beginning to a new book entirely.

Goodbye, Feb.
 
The loud clanking of mechanisms in the large vault door opening resonated into the room. The dim light was disrupted by the breakthrough of bright sunlight of midday. Gabe winced and shielded his eyes as he twisted from where he was seated to look behind him. There in the doorway, was the familiar head of blatantly dyed red hair and dark tinted sunglasses. "Time's up." Marcell was there to pull Gabe from his solitary training.

It took all of Gabe's effort to push himself off of the floor. With no one to interact with for almost a week, his energy reserves were running on fumes. All of his adrenaline had been used up in his intense circuit training, and now he could feel every ache and pain he had incurred. At least he knew a rest period would come next, then would be followed for his big match. He was match away from the championships, and out of anything, this was what Gabe wanted the most. He wanted to win. He wanted to be acknowledged. All of his hard work, all of his training and meditation was all for this.

With a relieved smile, Gabe made his way over to Marcel and placed his hand on the doorframe. "How long has it been this time?" He asked, using his arm to continue to cover his eyes so that he would not be blinded.

"Eight days. You've got three days until your big match." Marcel waited until Gabe stepped out before closing the door and turning the large spoked lock to seal the place up. "Do you think you're ready?"

Gabe took a deep breath, taking in the fresh and flowing air. The vault was stifling, and how sealed off it was, the air had started to become thin. He gave a nod to Marcel and lowered his arm to rub his shoulder. "Yeah, I think I'll win."

"You think? Or you know?"

"I know."

Marcel gave a thin-lipped grin and nodded his head as he motioned for Gabe to follow. "Good. There's a lot of bets on you winning this match, but there's also a lot against you. You need to show those bastards what a little faith can do." He patted Gabe on his bare back, then dropped his hand to wipe it on his pants. "First, you need a damn shower."

And sleep. Marcel's words had become foggy, muffled, and distant. The brightness became so blinding until he could see nothing but white, then black. Before Gabe knew what had happened, he had collapsed.
 
The little antique shop hidden between this place and that, rested for the day. No aimlessly wandering desired to find something in nothing, and so there were no customers. The three shopkeeper assistants were out and about running errands (which was quite a funny sight when people saw a penguin trotting about with a melancholy lad and a fiery redheaded Scot). The shopkeeper, the owner, the inventor and the magician spent most of the morning tucked away on the second floor of his shop, tinkering away at his latest magical device. Feather trimmed robe had been replaced with a leather apron. Pipe replaced with pencil. With a small sigh, the man looked over his notes in an attempt to make sense of it all.

Smoke lingered through the room, but the smell was much more aromatic than normal tobacco. Medicinal, even. Saito took in a deep breath, letting the warmth of cinnamon yet the crispness of citrus overcome him. It was a scent that reminded him of his younger days. Back when his curiosity was merely innocent. When days were spent inventing toys for the other boys of his Academy class, and following the rats down into the kitchens to record on what cheeses they took in the middle of the night. Before Saito knew it, he had drifted off to that familiar dreamland, where later he would wake against his workshop desk.

His dreams would take him away, back to a time that was much simpler. The prodigy child had slipped away from his classroom and his peers to seek refuge in the library. Countless days had been spent bored in that class. His work already done. The lessons already learned. The basics of alchemy had already been ingrained into his brain. There was nothing more his teacher could teach him that he did not already know.

But here, among the vast amount of knowledge in the form of books, scrolls and tomes, the young Saito Gensai could learn at his own pace. He could let his mind wander without going astray. He could explore and calculate and storm up ideas no one else had thought of. And it would be here, that Saito would memorize every bit of knowledge he managed to get his hands on. And it would be here, that Saito would begin to learn that as much as a gift knowledge is, it may also be the curse of loneliness.
 
Part 1: The Very Merry Unbirthday

Hidden deep within the Elven woods where the light cannot touch, and even the fireflies fear to shine, the soft tinkering melody of a music box could be heard breaking the deafening silence. Between ashen trees, darkness consumed all. Yet as you near the sound, a faint glow catches your eye. It reflects off of the trees, creating a silhouette beyond them. Dancing shadows flicker in between the long dark lines the trees make, giving the dead forest life once more. The music has evolved from just that of a music box, to a few individuals singing.

'Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!
How I wonder what you're at!'

The singers of the tune sounded zealous, if not a little too joyous. You near the divide between the darkness and the light and there you see, the shadows dancing about but no bodies to move them. In their absence, you see a long stretched table, clothed in white. Tea cups and tea pots of every size are set on the table, with various mismatched saucers. Canisters of fragrance are spread across the table, waiting to be divided into small mesh bags for brewing. But more forthcoming than the diamonds and spades that crest each chair and the large chandelier hanging from seemingly nowhere, was a sole figure, standing on the table, looking directly at you.

"Welcome, friend. Won't you take a seat?"

Long blonde hair frames porcelain skin and giving way to two stunning lapis lazuli eyes. Her long, black frill and lace Victorian dress contrasted the stark white of the setting below her. A lace gloved hand extends to you as the woman gives a courtesy bow. The small hat on her head never moving as her head bows, but eyes never leaving you.

"How may I be a service to you? Seeing your hesitation, blue-stained lips curl into a coy smile. "You look a little confused. Good." The woman stood upright again, letting her hand slowly float along the side of her form, following along the curves her corset accentuated. Head tilted to the side, she allows you to take in her form. "I am Alice. Welcome to my Underground."
 
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"Sheri, you here?" Emery called out as he entered the small building belonging to SR Runners. The reception desk was empty, and he didn't see any womanly figure dancing about beyond the frosted glass wall that lead to the other parts of the office. It was quiet. But something seemed off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it made Emery go on alert. "Sheri?" He called out again as he reached down to his left forearm, activating the holopad on his skin to activate his overclocking. Sheri definitely wasn't in. But by the low creaking of the rafters above, Em knew someone else was there.

He instantly looked up and kicked off with the heel of his boot to propel him backwards. He fell into the reception desk as a large mass of a man dropped down from the ceiling.

"WHERE IS SHEEEEE?" The voice of the intruder screeched out. He was massive. Muscles upon muscles and a mask that would give a harlequin nightmares. He was fully armed--gauntlets with gun barrels, a proton gun strapped to his belt. He already had blood stains from who know's who's blood all over his gloves, wrists and splattered all throughout his outfit. This guy was a horrific sight, and Emery knew instantly that he didn't want to deal with this guy one bit.

"Oh fuck me--" Emery started to groan exasperatedly before he was grabbed by his front and thrown into the wall opposite of him. The concrete spidered with the amount of force he was thrown and he knew that his back would definitely be sore in the morning. He started to pick himself up off of the wall when he glanced up to see a large fist barreling toward him. "Whoa!" He quickly rolled out of the way, just barely missing the contact. He could hear the crackling of the concrete breaking away. If his head was there a split second more then he would no longer have one.

"WHERE? IS? SHEEEE?" The monstrous man screeched again, whirling around with incredible speed to keep up with Emery.

Emery mentally cursed at himself. He hadn't had enough time for his overclock to load up properly. He was only at 3 percent. But he had no choice but to act. Quick footwork maneuvered him around until he was able to swing a strong right hook, square into the side of his attacker's head. But Emery was only met with shock when he found his punch did absolutely nothing but make the man look directly at him through his mask. Even though Em couldn't see his eyes, he could feel the piercing stare of the insane dig right into him. "How about we talk about this?"Emery tried to backpedal, giving an almost sheepishly weary smile, only to be thrown across the room again. "W-Why me....."
 
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"Passing the torch? I'm not done yet, boy." Leo scoffed, crossing his arms as he looked Remigio up and down. "Maybe that's why you're not complete yet."

Remigio grimaced. "That very well might be." He looked down at his hands, then brought one up to smooth back his hair out of his face. "Granted, I don't have as many years of development as you. Of course I won't be so well-rounded and fleshed out." He looked Leo up and down. "You're older than your years, really. Don't you think you're a little too overdeveloped?"

Leo's smirk faded. Maybe Remi was right. Maybe he was too overdone. Too saturated over the years. Too muddled into so many ideas that are thrown into one. What was the original side of him? A detective, yes. An Italian Casanova. And a cowboy. Nothing more, nothing less. But then he gained the regeneration ability, and since then... he's been tortured by many. Leo looked down at his nicely polished shoes. They seemed old and tarnished to him now. "Maybe you're right." He mumbled, looking back up to the other. "Maybe you're right." His tone held a solemn sound.

Remi let out a sigh and reached up to place a hand on Leo's shoulder. "You'll always be the star child, Leo. So don't worry about that." Remi paused and chuckled to himself. "You're like a fine wine. Let's just make sure the barrel isn't rotting, alright?"

Leo knew that Remi was trying to be comforting. But in the end, Leo still felt sadness, and shame, and hopelessness. Where should his ending be? Would he even be able to let someone like Remi take over his position? He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He ended up standing in arms with Remi and gave a small nod. "Good things will come your way, kid. You've got a lot of potential."
 
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