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Squee

I'm one of those "details and implications" guys.
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Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
Online Availability
I work swing shift, schedule changes daily.
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Medieval Fantasy. Or pirates. Pirates are always good. When it comes to reading, however, a good steampunk is always great. Above all, however, I would definitely have to say my favorite is Dark Fantasy.
As if waking from a terrible nightmare, James had found himself opening his eyes to a setting bright with light and greenery. An empty field, though his eyes struggled to adjust to the light. Last he remembered, he'd been waiting on his ship ready to welcome death with open arms. Perhaps that is what has happened and this was the sweet blessing he'd been given. A thought that was a mere jest passing his mind, if he'd been dead he'd find himself in an eternal pit of punishment. Though the thought of a pit turned to be more of a reality than he'd thought, for as his eyes focused he noticed he was in no field after all, but rather within the basin of a set of mountains. The greenery he saw was no illusion, but now his eyes were able to focus on the blue of the water, clouded by dirt. The odd coloration of the sky being as red as it was reflected onto many surfaces of the area, painting the landscape with a slight hue of red as well. He was not in heaven, that much was for sure.

Getting himself onto his feet, James was able to collect himself rather quickly. Rubbing his eyes, he felt something he didn't recognize about his hands; they were clean. Under normal circumstances his hands would have brushed at least a little dirt of salt from his sweat into his eyes and defeat the purpose of rubbing them at all, but looking at them, there was not a speckle to be found. A small detail, but one that made him all the more suspicious of what had just happened. Looking around, he realized he was not alone and he became startled, reaching for his cutlass just to be safe. Disappointment rushed over his thoughts as he soon realized there was no cutlass to grasp, his hand waved a few times to check, but striking nothing thrice over confirmed his fears. He was unarmed. But it didn't matter, there was a large pond directly nearby, he'd simply need to attune to it to use it properly. Disappointment dissolved into fear, his magic was failing him. It wasn't that he was out of energy, such was impossible for his abilities. It was as if having a muscle you mean to flex, but being unable to do so. He knows his magic is there, but he can't use it.

Panic quickly rushed through the pirates mind as he looked for anything he might be able to use as a weapon, anything as simple as a stick would do him some good right now. Regardless, while manically looking around his eyes did settle upon a figure he'd recognized. This was one that introduced himself as Iather on his ship! But that was impossible, Iather was an illusion created by the desperation of a starving and dehydrated fool clinging to life with no more than his insanity to hold him together. Iather was not real, he couldn't be real. But the death-like being was accompanied by 2 others, one a youthful one but still clearly aged enough to be called a man and the other a masked one, the mask itself bore no facial features of its own. The three were daunting when they stood together.

"Captain James," spoke Iather. "You're the first to wake, I see!" The voice was easy to hear, but hard to understand. It was as though the throat had gone entirely dry and the crackling of his words made James step just a little closer, if only to hear Iather more clearly. "We made a deal, and you were the last one we needed, an irony it is that you'd be the first to awaken after your fate. You'll find that despite being in dire need of sustinance before, you now have made a full recovery. Argenesis is to thank for that," Iather said, motioning to the youthful man dressed in blue robes.

In this moment, James knew what his fate was. He was being dragged to hell before the devil himself had appeared to strike a bargain. Yes, he remembered it now, he'd told the devil he'd participate in a game. If he'd been of sound mind, James would have cursed his fate and let his life be no more, but men have a strange way of finding a reason to live when they stare at their grave. Convinced his fate was to run like a rat through a maze, James bowed his head, nothing to say. This was not out of shame, but rather a bow out of respect. James also enjoyed tampering with the lives of others for his pleasure, and the scale on which the devil could do it filled him with envy.

For now, James stood in wait for the other bodies lying around the ground to wake up.
 
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Natalya stirred fitfully, the sensation of grass on her cheek and the wind ruffling gently through her hair. Her hands absentmindedly gripping, her finders dug into dirt and soil. It was at this point that a familiar voice rang across her ears, stirring her from her semi-conscious state. Who was it? Nobody from Drisbane, so where did she recognise the voice from? Blearily opening her eyes, she caught sight of a trio, with the familiarly-voiced one - Iather, that was it!- facing a man. An old one too, judging from his appearance; 30s verging on 40s. So Iather's words back then had been true. She really was in a different world to the one she had been raised in. Staying low, she listened to the statement, hoping to glean anything useful from it.

True to Iather's words, she felt refreshed and healthy. However, it seemed little more information would be forthcoming, so her prone act was no longer needed. Stretching to ease out a little residual stiffness in her limbs, Natalya rose to her feet, taking stock of her surroundings. No cities or hamlets in sight. The horizon ringed by mountains. Water nearby. Little else she could work with. A roll of her neck elicited a series of little pops as she eased out the last couple of cricks from her sleep. She could tell even without looking that her sword was gone, the familiar weight missing from her back. Well, it was only a useful primary weapon after all. Better to avoid being hurt unless you needed to, but her main strength lay in...

Natalya started. She could feel the seductive thrum of the power within her, the raging torrent that literally spilled out whenever she was wounded, but as if through a void. Her powers were locked away, separated from the blood that gave them form. Gritting her teeth, Natalya sat and thought. No sword. No magic. That Iather bastard was toying with her - with all of them most likely. Natalya spun to face the trio. "Oi, the fuck did you do to us?" she snarled, anger bubbling within. "What kind of bullshit are you playing at?"
 
Zack was the next to wake up. His eyes cracked open, then shut immediately at the torrent of light; groaning, he shielded his face with his hand and tried again, letting his eyes adjust. Who turned the damn lights on before he woke up? Wasn't he alone in this house? He couldn't have overslept, could he? It quickly became apparent, however, that Zack was no longer in his house. Lying on his back, he looked up to see an otherworldly red sky and a mountain peak looming over the valley. Alarmed, Zack reached for the halberd he always kept by his bedside -- but of course, it wasn't there. That could only mean one thing: he'd been kidnapped in his sleep. He leaped to his feet and held his arms at his sides, willing the energy that fueled his magic to collect in his hands, so that he might cast a spell if his captors showed up, but his growing panic only compounded when he felt nothing. No cool sensation running from his chest to his arms, no crackle of magic in the air around his fingertips. He shook his hands a few times, as if that could force his magic into action, but still, nothing.

Before, he'd just been minorly irritated at having to show a few bullies what it meant to mess with him, but now he was downright furious. How dare they rob him of his most intimate, personal of skills? How was it even possible? In all his research, Zack had never come across a way to shut off someone's magic. Not unless you were one of the most powerful creatures to exist, an outright god-

Almost on cue, Zack finally noticed the three deities standing watch over not just him, but several others as it turned out. He recognized the figure in the middle of the trio as Iather. All the memories of the bargain he'd struck returned, as if he were remembering a dream from the other night. Up until then he had actually dismissed it as a dream, but now it was clear that he had been very wrong. Like a switch being flipped, all the righteous anger drained from Zack's face and he dropped to one knee in front of Iather and his companions. These three were Zack's ticket to immortality and power beyond his wildest dreams. It was best to show respect.

"Thank you for having me," he muttered.
 
Pain. That was all that Lea could recall when she finally opened her eyes. Not that she felt it, which surprised her to a great degree. She blinked, the brightness getting to her yellow snake like eyes, shutting them quickly, even scrunching them close. Where was she? The last thing she could remember was limping through a dirty alleyway, no longer being able to run away from those chasing her. Flying had not been an option either; both her wings had been broken.

Why can't I feel anything? She flexed her fingers; yes, they were there. A little more and she could feel the rest of her body was there as well, safe and sound, for some reason. Had someone taken her to a healer. No, that didn't make sense. Why would they after trying to do their best to kill her? Slowly, she opened her eyes once more. As she did, her ears caught the sound of people talking. That caused her to sit up immediately, tensed, even backing up a little to get away. Were they back? Were they going to kill her- Her wild thought paused as she looked around herself. At first it was only to run to safety, but as she saw the greenery and the mountains, the water... and was the sky red?

This is not Yaseef for sure.

Lea's breathing calmed down, now that she knew she was in no immediate danger. She looked toward the voices, and her eyes widened. What is Creator's name- She blinked... and blinked again, and then it came back to her. That man, the one who hadn't looked like any race she knew. She really had been dying, and she had been saved... for a price. She had accepted to be part of this trio's entertainment. Would she have said yes if she hadn't have been dying at the time? Perhaps. She believed in her dream, she always had.

Finally standing up, she stretched her wings, giving them a little flap. That seemed to further cement in her mind that all this was true. This was no dream, and she had accepted to take part in this dangerous game. Well, life was always dangerous anyway. At least there was the guarantee that if she won, others beside her wouldn't have to suffer anymore.

Of course, there was the competition. So far she could see two males and a female. They too, of races she didn't know. She suspected they wouldn't be friendly, and most probably would do their best to kill her. Nothing new there. She stood up tall, erasing all doubt and fear from her face, a smile there instead. Prove to the world, no matter where, that you matter.
 
Audrey awoke on the ground of an alien planet. The soil was soft and gentle on the side of her face, it gave way to her movements unlike the brick floor of her prison cell she had slept on for so many years. She smiled again to herself as she blinked in the red sky. Already she was satisfied with her decision. If she were to die now, she would be happy with that.

And yet, looking out into the vast expanse of valley and sky, she craved for life to continue for just a bit longer. The air was no longer stale and dusty, but fresh and crisp. Rolling to one side, she pushed herself onto her knees. Strange, she thought, I feel no hunger, and yet I am the weakest I ever remember being.

Audrey rose to her feet. It took more effort than she imagined it would. Is this what it feels like to be human? She had become well-acquainted with the human mind in her short life of hunting, but she only now realized how little she truly knew about their existence. See, humans never thought about the weight of their own bodies. Not when they were being eaten. And Audrey only knew what information her telepathy had afforded her. Telepathy.

Scanning the present company, her mind was a complete blank. She heard no voices but her own. It was maddeningly silent. Even in her years as prisoner, she could still occasionally hear the thought of a passerby. A small child, perhaps, who fluttered by the wall she was hidden behind, with no knowledge of the danger that lurked behind it. Now, it was totally quiet.

Her superhuman strength, her telepathy, they had both been taken from her. Stolen. She felt so human. So mortal. Was she human again? Is that why the light was not burning her face like the light on Earth did? She lowered the hood of her green cloak, consciously revealing her beauty to any who happened to look to her. Whether human or stunted vampire, Audrey was confident her beauty would be unscathed.

As she approached the group of people forming in front of her, she recognized Iather, the being that invited her to participate. She realized that all three of these god-like creatures had given her a second life. She curtsied low for them, drawing attention to herself.

"Sirs," she said to them, still low to the ground. "I thank you greatly for the opportunity." She rose then to look them directly in the eye.
 
Kelis remained lying on the ground. His muscles stayed relaxed, his eyes closed, his breathing normal. He listened to those speaking, calmly, without reaction, working out that there were at least five individuals, along with the ones that had brought him here. Presumably the other human-sounding ones were brought here too, just like him. Iather had mentioned others. He wasn't sure, though. Was it the gods' intention for them to be allies... or rivals? If it was the former, he imagined that they would be slowing him down. If it was the latter, well, attacking them now would be unwise. He could likely take any of each of them alone in a fight, but they could well band together against him if he was seen as an unjustified aggressor.
No, he would remain placid for now. He would also wake up, or at least reveal that he had, by standing, not saying a word as he did. All the questions that need be asked had been already, all that he needed to do to find the answers was wait for the trio's response.
While he waited, he tried to prepare a measure of metal from the earth beneath him, but something was wrong. It... wasn't working when he clapped his hands. Confused, he clapped them again, placing them on the ground to ensure a better connection. Nothing. Standing up, he surmised that something had been done to prevent his alchemy. His research in Amestris showed that, on what was called the Promised day, a being named Father had been defeated, and the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother had led the forces of central to destroying him. Father had been shown before to restrict use of alchemy within his own domain, blocking alchemists' connection to the shifting tectonic plates beneath their feet. Perhaps the three had somehow replicated this feat? Yet they had blocked what appeared to be some other form of alchemy belonging to the others. They ahd already asked, now he waited for the answer.
 
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