Out of Character:
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Out of Character:
"Is he awake?"
Cain heard in muffled sleepy numbness, his head was ringing and his body was stiff. No his body was not stiff his body had been stiff before this was un-moving. His mind could feel his body but it would not respond to his command. "Mutinous body." Cain said groggily "what happened?" he asked who ever was looking on to him and the thought crossed his mind ~why does it hurt to talk?~
"You was knocked on the head somtin fierce" the voice beside him replied "you've been out fer the better part of a year."
Cain grunted and tried to move again and he could feel his muscles flex but they did not have enough strength make any movements beyond flexing. Slumping his head back into his pillow he could feel a well of disrepair grow with in him. ~This would never do~ thought Cain as he forced the feelings of despair from his mind.
Time went by and with assistance from his crew he managed to exit the hospital and get a glimpse of his ship. It looked different than he had remembered. There was new rigging, sails and worst of all new crew members. The old Peregrines greeted him with smiles and sharp salutes and removals of their hats, the new Peregrines regarded him with suspicion and rendered their salutes more shabbily. He expected this but never the less it stung.
There was not enough room for his crew mates to help him across the companion ladder so the Captain with his atrophied muscles struggled to cross the gang way. He was out of breath and his mind flashed back to his former days when he'd leap over the rail like a cat. His muscles remembered as well but they could not perform the act that they remembered.
The worst though was when the Peregrine gave a mild lee lurch Cain living over two thirds of his life on the sea, formerly used to such mild things as a lee lurch lost his balance, missed his grab for the main chains and fell into the water. That never happened to him before. In his past Cain was a powerful, all be it not a graceful swimmer, now he sunk his arms and legs were unable to coordinate let alone give enough strength to keep him afloat.
He fought to stay conscious but ultimately failed.
He woke up on his cot with in his great cabin, it was familiar but like something from a dream. Looking about Cain had a choice to make either he could give in to the temptation to let himself become an invalid for the rest of his life, and wallow in his own self pity, or he could square his shoulders and force is body to relearn how to become a sailor, and force his will to relearn how to be a captain. He was too stubborn and iron clad to to wallow in his self pity so he truly only had one choice he could make.
He fought.
It's hard to say how it feels to wake up and time has passed you by, while to you, it was like a nap.
Jay and I sat on a dusty secluded plateau atop Graxis' lair, nestled in the peak of one of the many mountains of Zaileia, in Fallien. She brought me here once to celebrate, and to enjoy warmth and isolation beneath the stars. I remember her embrace that day; I'll likely never forget it. Now, she sat beside me, looped around my arm, with her head resting on my shoulder. The sun slowly sank beneath the horizon, and the sky looked smeared with colors. Lavender shades that matched Jay's skin were, appropriately, the dominant color of the evening.
It had been a year.
A year.
My fight with the electromancer had not ended well for me. A cut from his sword had left my body poisoned by some unknown magical means. Daros had locked me away in a time stasis, effectively putting my life on pause while the rest of the world continued. It took him nearly a year to fully comprehend the complex magic that resides within that nasty weapon and to reverse its effect.
So here I am, awake, a year later.
My first night back and all I wanted was to be with Jay. I think she felt the same. I can only imagine how she feels, having missed me so much and seeing me locked away and not knowing when I'd be out. Thankfully, as a dark elf, a year isn't all that much for her.
Tonight is about us, but I can only imagine what wheels have turned in the grand scheme of the world. Has the war in Alerar begun? Have developments in magicyte advanced? Has Cydnar found a new home for his people? What impact is the Tarot having?
A year is a long time. A lot can happen in a year, or nothing. I can only begin to guess. It feels as though I've landed in a world that isn't my own, with only traces of familiarity - just enough to remind me that it's real.
The next few days should answer most of my questions. Those I trust most will enlighten me on what transpired during my absence. But the day to day will resume. I'll return to the forge and to work, continue with my training, and my life in general. If ever I needed a reminder that I am just one piece in the vastness that exists, this may be it.
I am small. I am weak. I was defeated, and it cost me a year.
There is so much more to be done if I am ever to succeed at making a lasting impression on this world - a legacy.
For now, tonight, that will all wait. For now, I can smell the lavender of Jay's silver hair, as fragrant and relaxing as ever, and all I want to do is kiss her.
After all, love is eternal.
"Sir!"
A tall, white-blonde haired man stood at a window. Framed by light and dressed in dark attire he was a silhouette of determination and focus. Straight-backed he stared out into the city of Beinost, over his failing gardens and quiet driveway, all the way to the partially occupied city. In his hand he gripped a long cane made of maple wood, and on the third finger of his right hand was wrapped a ring. A ring of a dull grey colour holding within it a small blue stone. A stone that was not precious in any way, that did not have facets like a jewel, but instead was powerful beyond ages and for the first time in a year it was steadily pulsating with a dim, indigo light.
"Sir," gasped the voice behind him as the tall man's eyes dropped to the ring. "Sir, she - she has ..."
"At last," the god Vitruvion whispered. And his eyes began to shimmer with hope. Finally, finally with hope.
Swiftly, he turned, his black coat-tails flaring. He stepped over the unpolished floor, the scattered papers and the twisted rug and stepped out of the room. Passing the four-poster bed whose covers were all askew he avoided the mirror that had not been cleaned in a long time, merely because of the lack of organisation around the house. And the fact that Vitruvion hardly let anyone into this room. Her room.
Her room. Stare's room. His steward who he had been waiting to awake from her period of unconciousness for over a year.
Not for the first time in that time, he sent his conciousness through the ring. And found the instant connection for the other piece of metal and tiny scrapes of the same blue stone afixed still around her wrist. As his awareness swam to her conciousness he was delighted to find not the dullness of a still mind, but rather one that was grasping at life once more.
His pace quickened. Heading straight for the stairs he shoved memories at her, memories of him, standing there at the window and trying to poke at her mind. Memories of the torture he forced on her through their mental connection, all in the hope that she would respond. Memories of no reaction at all, of her blankness, her plainess, her endless void of non-responsive attitude, as the spells of nourishment and good health kept her alive as they pulsed around the room as faint lights.
Memories of how the house and his various projects had fallen to part or complete disrepair because she had not been there to manage them.
He gave her memories of the accident. That he had put her through, facing up against the psychic god-dragon Mewtoo, all in order that Vitruvion could gain further power and further knowledge. Shove her against the white dominating beast, he had concluded, use her powerful stare. Thrust her straight into the path of Mewtoo's damaging blows and have them fight whilst he snuck around to find what he desired.
Sacrifice her, whilst he satiated his own curiosity.
A deed which had never been completed, because of Vitruvion's stupidity, and Mewtoo's ultimate power. Stare had fallen down, unconciousness, lost the power of distraction to the god-dragon. And Vitruvion had had to run, deciding between the power here and she who he often boasted was his most precious possession.
At the bottom of the stairs, he began to run, eyes full of passion, hair streaming behind him.
I regret what I did, he desperately said to her, in honesty that had never once been uttered before. Truly, Stare. I am sorry. Now keep coming back to me, my dear. Keep coming. Keep ...
All those months of staring at her body, staring at her mind. Those days of trying to distract himself from the realisation that he blamed himself for this all. Him, a god! Earth-bound, yes, but he was surely above this, surely above theguilt of saving a mortal ... Surely?
Right?
Cane thrown to the side he clattered through another door and down a tight stone stairway, descending into the basement. A place they had used to use as a testing arena for her accumulating powers. There, on a table, Stare - also known as Avis Tsakaka, her birthname - had lain in comfort and care for just over a year, with the globes of healing encircling her and keeping her form alert. As he came down, he saw that someone was with her, an arm around her shoulders, holding her up as she shook and gulped in air, barely able to -
"Give her to me," Vitruvion spat at the servant.
A look of fear. And a nod, with arms holding the kenku's feathered and now awake form out. Reaching out, Vitruvion pulled her to his chest, feeling the alertness and the acknowledgement within her mind. Now no longer a void, now no longer nothing.
The god relaxed, and he sighed, wrapping his arms around his steward.
"You have come back to me," he whispered to her. "After all this time. You have obeyed me, finally, and come back to me."
A cliff at least six times her height -- that was the distance between the Arainthe Vardis and the river below. The cliff wasn’t unconquerable and he was behind her. His footsteps were growing louder, growing closer with every breath. Six times her height. A rushing river below. She could pad the landing with a spell and lessen the impact. Behind her was a man who wanted her head, and in front of her was a thin possibility of survival. There were no other options.
She spun, twisted, and threw herself off the cliff with one swift leap. She smirked as she caught sight of his surprise. Then the river sprayed upwards to meet her.
Goodbye, asshole.
This was the last thing she remembered.
--
“Oh good, you’re awake,” said a voice. Female, breathy, as though charged with adrenaline. “Quick! Can you walk? We have to get you out of here. Mad Evans might be back at any time!”
What?
Her mind was groggy, and her eyes could not focus. Her limbs felt weak, as though she had not moved for weeks on end, or as though she had just awakened from a long, long sleep. The last thing she remembered was jumping into a river and seeing a most peculiar river crab--
“Yeah, you did,” the voice snapped. “Jumped into that fucking river in fucking Mad Evan’s territory. Whom you were running from. Stupid. Like he won’t know where it ended. Did you even stop to think?”
Foreign hands reached for Arainthe’s arms and torso, and pulled her out of… something. She hadn’t realized that she was laying down. Huh. The hands handled her efficiently and roughly, rather like a farmer would a sack of potatoes. Then she was slung against someone’s shoulders and propped upright.
“Can’t walk. Wonderful. Bet you can’t cast a spell to save your life either. Guess that’s what getting preserved in enchanted dry ice for a year does to you.”
What? A year? She blinked. Her eyes had began recognizing the barest hints of light, even though the world was still a red-gray haze. Without further warning, she was half dragged into a caricature of walking. Her bones felt soft, and her toes tingly at the state of movement. She tried to open her mouth to protest, but only managed a hoarse neigh. The hands around her tightened their grip, and the movement became even faster.
“We’re breaking you out, Arry, that’s what’s happening. Good gods, it’ll take forever to put you back in working condition again. The next time you go hunting for artifacts in a madman’s house, you’re not allowed to say no to backup.”
Oh. That sounded... quite nice, actually.
"You're fucking welcome."
This vignette is now closed for judging.
July 2017 Vignette
Hey everyone. This was a neat prompt, and we had a variety of different approaches to it, which is always great to see. Although there were only four of you, this one was quite competitive, so you should all be proud of your entries.
jdd2035: You did a good job of getting right into the business with dialogue and internal feelings. I would definitely suggest using italics for thoughts, though, instead of "~". The little wavy symbol is kind of alienating. I was confused by the presence of a hospital on Althanas, but I liked the way you had different crew members respond to Cain according to their allegiance. You also upped the ante with Cain falling into the water, and found a solid way of ending it. AND, you didn't have THAT many mechanical errors. Great work!
SirArtemis: Your opening was a little awkward, and a little cliched. Also it was technically in 2nd person, which isn't so good. After that you basically just explained what happened to the reader. It was well written, but not particularly creative. Some dialogue used to show Jay's feelings rather than Artemis' internal monologue telling about them would have made the scene a lot more romantic. Everything that came after that felt like filler. I think you had a cool scene here, but failed to really bring it to life.
Stare: Your opening paragraph did a good job of immersing me in the scene, but I felt like you were a bit wasteful with the dialogue. Repeating the word "sir" three times may be in character, but it's not informative to the situation at all. You used some odd sentence structuring such as "Swiftly, he turned," instead of "He turned swiftly," and also had some unnecessary repeated words. Overall I liked the approach you took to this prompt, but I felt like you took too long to get things going, and your vignette was lengthier than needed to tell the story it contained.
Rogue: You had a solid opening, and I liked the way you started with the cause of the coma and then skipped straight to her waking up. That said, while I appreciated your brevity, you didn't really give any information on who the guy chasing her was or why that was happening, nor did the part after the wake-up tell much about the character other than that she had some good friends.
1st place: jdd2035
2nd place: Stare
jdd2035 receives 600 EXP and 200 GP!
SirArtemis receives 650 EXP!
Stare receives 400 EXP and 150 GP!
Rogue receives 100 EXP!
All rewards added!