- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- Multiple posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- No Preferences
- Genres
- High fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by modern fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
"What... happened to me?" Jack now seemed almost incoherent with rage now. Any trace of humor, however cruel, at the situation vanished, leaving nothing but primal rage. It only took him a moment to recover, and then he exploded. "You... you dare to ask what the fuck happened to me? You? Oh, that is fucking rich."
He calmed down an instant later, but his icy wrath was much worse. It promised things that hot fury never could. It promised painful, dark things, that would be far too much for any mortal man to bear. "You know exactly what happened to me. Exactly. After all, you've read my file. You've read every single one of the twisted, fucked up things that was done to me. But what's more, you knew who was behind them. You knew that my country, the country I went to war for, the country I was prepared to die for, not only condoned the things that had been done to me, they fucking funded it!"
It seemed that in the heat of the moment Lily had been pretty much forgotten. She still sat, crumpled in her chair, tear-streaked and unresponsive. Jack glanced her way momentarily, before dismissing any concerns about her. Her mental stability wasn't his problem. Andy was the one who dragged her into this mess. He turned back to the source of all this misfortune.
"But you... You knew the moment I began to explain what had happened to me, that I was the subject in those files. But what did you do? Did you tell me? No. You did everything in your fucking power to keep it hidden from me. You didn't give a fuck about what those bastards might be doing, so long as precious, broken Andy got his best friend back.
"You don't want to save me. That is complete and utter bullshit. No, what you want to do is fix me. To make me 'all better'. All you want to do is go back in time, and pretend that none of this ever happened. Well, you can't. There is no fixing this. I'm not human anymore, Andy. I'm even less human now than I was when I saved your life a few days ago. But you, you are still as naive as ever. You want to live in a happy little world, where no one ever gets hurt and people stay best friends forever. But even that wasn't enough, because you weren't content to let me stay gone.
"You've fucked it up, Andy. You've fucked it all up. You fucked yourself up, you fucked Lily up, and you've fucked me up, in ways you can't even begin to comprehend. All you had to do was publish that information, and then I would have taken care of the rest and vanished. You would have been left with your perfect memories of 'Jack', to treasure until the day you died. Instead, you get this."
He started to gesture to himself, but realized in an instant that Andy wouldn't get it. All he'd see was the body. The shell. Which meant absolutely nothing anymore. There was no way to truly make Andy understand. Not really. Instead, Jack settled for finally clothing himself. The clothes were heavier, more substantial this time. They almost looked like real clothes.
He calmed down an instant later, but his icy wrath was much worse. It promised things that hot fury never could. It promised painful, dark things, that would be far too much for any mortal man to bear. "You know exactly what happened to me. Exactly. After all, you've read my file. You've read every single one of the twisted, fucked up things that was done to me. But what's more, you knew who was behind them. You knew that my country, the country I went to war for, the country I was prepared to die for, not only condoned the things that had been done to me, they fucking funded it!"
It seemed that in the heat of the moment Lily had been pretty much forgotten. She still sat, crumpled in her chair, tear-streaked and unresponsive. Jack glanced her way momentarily, before dismissing any concerns about her. Her mental stability wasn't his problem. Andy was the one who dragged her into this mess. He turned back to the source of all this misfortune.
"But you... You knew the moment I began to explain what had happened to me, that I was the subject in those files. But what did you do? Did you tell me? No. You did everything in your fucking power to keep it hidden from me. You didn't give a fuck about what those bastards might be doing, so long as precious, broken Andy got his best friend back.
"You don't want to save me. That is complete and utter bullshit. No, what you want to do is fix me. To make me 'all better'. All you want to do is go back in time, and pretend that none of this ever happened. Well, you can't. There is no fixing this. I'm not human anymore, Andy. I'm even less human now than I was when I saved your life a few days ago. But you, you are still as naive as ever. You want to live in a happy little world, where no one ever gets hurt and people stay best friends forever. But even that wasn't enough, because you weren't content to let me stay gone.
"You've fucked it up, Andy. You've fucked it all up. You fucked yourself up, you fucked Lily up, and you've fucked me up, in ways you can't even begin to comprehend. All you had to do was publish that information, and then I would have taken care of the rest and vanished. You would have been left with your perfect memories of 'Jack', to treasure until the day you died. Instead, you get this."
He started to gesture to himself, but realized in an instant that Andy wouldn't get it. All he'd see was the body. The shell. Which meant absolutely nothing anymore. There was no way to truly make Andy understand. Not really. Instead, Jack settled for finally clothing himself. The clothes were heavier, more substantial this time. They almost looked like real clothes.