Story time with Chaos

Started by FierceChaos, July 15, 2014, 03:54:58 PM

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FierceChaos


Dys Astyr

The sea of sand sparkled pale aquamarine in the light of the moons...
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Viper


icore2

The giraffe was a shape shifter

Dys Astyr

With a fondness for wearing bowler hats and pugilism
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TheWhiteEmperor

a shape shifter who wanted to be a rectangle...
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I will be gone for an indeterminate amount of time. Sorry for the inconvenience. Love you all, you will be missed. 7/9/16

icore2

then one day the shapeshifter girraffe found a penny!

FierceChaos


Dys Astyr

And it bit him quite rudely
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TheWhiteEmperor

which the non-rectangular giraffe threw into the sea...
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I will be gone for an indeterminate amount of time. Sorry for the inconvenience. Love you all, you will be missed. 7/9/16

Viper

And with said penny he wished upon a sacred self drawn rectangle within the wishy washy shore.

icore2

This penny was actually an alien...

TheWhiteEmperor

a boomerang alien penny, which had no real powers, only illusions...
Abscences and Apologies || On's and Off's

I will be gone for an indeterminate amount of time. Sorry for the inconvenience. Love you all, you will be missed. 7/9/16

FierceChaos


Viper

As a sudden puff of mist surrounded the shape shifting giraffe that wished to become a rectangle!

Dys Astyr

It caused him to sneeze uncontrollably
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

icore2

Then gandalf came outta nowhere screaming.. YOU SHALL NOT PASS

Viper

The Giraffe jumped up in attempt to jump over Gandalf...

FierceChaos

But was Immediately eaten by a charizard

Dys Astyr

Who then proceeded to drag his painfully distended body back towards his den.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

FierceChaos

On his way back he notices someone standing outside his den.

Boatman

#21
It was Medusa... who sniped, "What the H*** has taken you so long getting the dinner?"
But there was no answer, just the creaking of stone forming.
History, where creative writing was born.

FierceChaos

But the Charizard's trainer was not going to stand idly by as his charge was turned to stone. He walked up behind Medusa and effortlessly slit her throat. With Medusa dead the stone fell away from the trainers Charizard.

Dys Astyr

The Medusa's brother was not happy about that in the least, and with his serpentine mohawk hissing in displeasure set out to avenge his sister. 
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

Fredusa, Medusa's brother set off on the trail of the murderous trainer with no name. Drawing close, he decided to rest for the night and extract revenge at first light. Unfortunately, Fredusa lay down next to a pack of ravenous mongooses.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

The mongooses overpowered the sleeping Fredusa and carried him off to their queen
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Beguile's Mistress

who took one look and cried, "What am I going to do with this?"

Dys Astyr

The mongooses where very upset that their tribute was not well received and spent nine days and nine nights in mourning
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Beguile's Mistress

The queen, totally frustrated with the mourning mongooses, had a royal fit because no work was getting done.  She tossed the tribute into a cell and...

Belle33

Ordered the mongooses to get back to the work of planning the large celebration honoring...

Ons/Offs, Stories & Poems, Currently Not Available for RP

TheWhiteEmperor

their almighty overlord Freddie Prinze Jr. ...
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I will be gone for an indeterminate amount of time. Sorry for the inconvenience. Love you all, you will be missed. 7/9/16

FierceChaos

who just happened to show up, right as Fredusa was escaping his cell.

Dys Astyr

As they attempted to pass each other in the hall, they ended up doing that awkward dance that so often happens in these situations
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

Freddie PJ, glanced disdainfully at the commoner blocking his path and was immediately turned to diamond from his feet up, his last thought being how sparkly he looked*.


*Footnote: Medusa had always been jealous of her brother's superior wealth creating powers.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

Fredusa admired the glistening gem for a moment before continuing to make his escape, his stomach and his mohawk both growling hungrily. No revenge can be undertaken on an empty stomach so he decided to stop for pancakes.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

So he went looking for a blind pancake maker. But everyone he asked refused to answer, or even move. That was until a voice boomed out.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

"ALL CHILDREN OUT OF THE POOL!"
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Boatman

Which were the code words chosen by Curly, the leader of the mutant hedgehogs, to signal the commencement of the operation.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

On que the mutant hedgehog guerrilla army moved in a hedge of insane proportions, effectively sealing off the mongoose hide out, for the mongoose and the mutant hedgehog are age old rivals.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

But then, the mongoose spies disguised as hedgehogs discarded their deformed spines and let out a complex series of grunts to alert the camp guards. At which point the relatively giant Fredusa stepped out between the animal armies and shouted, "Whatever you do don't look at me, but can anyone make pancakes - preferably chocolate and banana?"
History, where creative writing was born.

Vill

Until that moment, a small marsupial soldier had been obedient and quiet: ready to die, while trying to buy time for the cause he represented.

But, pancakes....

....pancakes.

"rrrRRRRAAAWWWWHHHHAAAAAAAAAA." His tiny voice grew in crescendo from timid to intimidating as it traversed the spectrum eight octaves lower. Lightening struck and rain clawed down from the night sky as hell on Earth unleashed itself at the will of an animal who had held pancakes as a mortal enemy. 

TheWhiteEmperor

...even the Gods felt threatened by this creature and made it rain vehicular-sized concrete pancakes, turning the animal into a crimson-stained... pancake.
Abscences and Apologies || On's and Off's

I will be gone for an indeterminate amount of time. Sorry for the inconvenience. Love you all, you will be missed. 7/9/16

Dys Astyr

The unnatural rain was devastating. Lives were lost, crops ruined, small town leveled. The sheer horror put many people off pancakes for years.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

But then a creature dressed in white, pretending to be a man, preached the Word ... Doughnut which some heard as Donut and hope was restored.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

Every time the Word was spoken a sublime smell seemed to surround true believers. No one was able to describe it, only that it was delicious and made their mouths water. Non believers quickly became jealous of this and started to indiscriminately throw vegetables at them.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

It was then that the miracle occurred. One night three wise old crones were playing strip Tarrot when one decided to cheat by pointing to the sky and calling out, "Hoy look at that star up there." Unfortunately, at that moment Fredusa came by on his bicycle and all three saw him instead. By the next night, expeditions were setting out to follow the star being pointed to by three sparkling diamond statues. And they found a baby donut wrapped in swaddling crinkly paper.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

The baby donut had bubblegum pink skin and three eyes that never looked in the same direction. It smelled faintly of lemons and filled everyone with sugar sweet feelings.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

Soon a band of followers gathered and built a palace where the Donut of all donuts could be kept and nurtured with maple syrup and cocoa powder. When, one day a passing anosmia sufferer followed her large nose to the Donut, the followers realised their aromatic leader had special curative powers and decided to charge the elephant loads of suffers who subsequently visited their weight in chocolate as an entry fee. Soon this new movement had gathered virtually all of the chocolate supplies in the world and the Ruler of the Great Empire decided enough was enough (or too little wasn't sufficient... or something like that).
History, where creative writing was born.

FierceChaos

So the ruler of the great empire sent assassins to kill off the great prophet donut.

TheWhiteEmperor

...but, to the bloodthirsty assassins' dismay, a wild Snorlax had happened upon them first. Snorlax was always hungry. Too bad he knew not that the Donut Kingdom were of sentient pastries.. Their raspberry jam blood tasted sooooo good.
Abscences and Apologies || On's and Off's

I will be gone for an indeterminate amount of time. Sorry for the inconvenience. Love you all, you will be missed. 7/9/16

Boatman

But unbeknown to the wild Snorlax, it was intolerant to sugar which brought on a diabetic coma just as he was about to eat the great Donut. "Another Miracle," the remaining followers cried. On hearing of this, the Ruler of the Great Empire (who was exactly twelve inches long) banned all thought, talk and worship of donuts. Anyone found to secretly like donuts was to be made to carry a giant hot cross bun until they snuffed it.
History, where creative writing was born.

TheWhiteEmperor

Alas, with the new age being ushered in, times grew old and the decline of the Donut religion forced the Great Donut to crinkle and acquire a fuzzy, moldy shell. All the while, the Ruler of the Great Empire was coming of an elderly age and there were many worthy men vying for the title. As the time stretched, so did the Snorlax and with the scratch of his belly, roused and left the stale Donut in its temple.
Abscences and Apologies || On's and Off's

I will be gone for an indeterminate amount of time. Sorry for the inconvenience. Love you all, you will be missed. 7/9/16

FierceChaos

The wild Snorlax had just left the donut kingdom. When the almost forgotten pancake people rose up and slaughtered every man, woman, and child donut in the city, effectively ending the donut reign forever.

Dys Astyr

Related only by the web of Chaos, on the other side of the kingdom a fish jumped in a lake, making a small plop-splish sound. This sound, though small and insignificant caught the attention of a wandering wizard who had just happened to be near by at the time. This moment of distraction caused him to botch a rather long and complicated raise dead spell, as a result all the skeletons in the area clawed their way up out of the earth and proceeded to dance the mamushka and various kazak folk dances.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

Which was captured as fiction, although actually reality, in the antiquated film 'Jason and the Argonauts' (in colour).
History, where creative writing was born.

FierceChaos

On the other side of the world a king was sitting on his iron throne contemplating why do they make thrones so uncomfortable. 

Dys Astyr

Meanwhile an iron throne was sitting beneath a king wondering why they made kings so fat and smelly.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

And in it was nesting the scone of Destiny (which confusingly was from a place called Scone), which didn't have a nose.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

And without having a nose couldn't share in the thrones plight, but otherwise they were fairly good friends, having no one to talk to really but each other, as that jerk of a king never talked to them.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

Then one day the king became so fat he was unable to do anything except eat what his servants brought him and intermittently gas those who lived under the chair. So he announced a quest.


(http://www.educationscotland.gov.uk/scotlandshistory/warsofindependence/stoneofscone/index.asp)
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

(Hey, didn't they steal that in a movie?)

The throne and scone, in their pitiable bondage were forced to listen to the tiresome speech during which the king announced the quest, promising his own son's hand in marriage to the adventurous soul capable of making the journey across the sea and through untold danger to the mouth of  Haderrmolk, the mighty volcano, to gather some of the ash that spewed from its hellish depths. For the ash was rumored to be the softest thing in all creation and the king had grown tired of the way the iron throne poked and cut into his rolls so uncomfortably.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

And so it came to pass that a poor serving maid distantly related to Cinderella decided she would like to go on the quest and marry the prince, even though he was a bit of a loud mouthed prat. She reasoned that if she got her hands on his wealth and power, she could use these to help poor people in the kingdom. And she also rather fancied having some of the soft ash for her rough skin. So she dressed as a man, thinking only men could go on quests, and came before the king turned up at the auditions.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

Fidgeting nervously with her fake mustache she felt out of place in the hoard of rough looking mercenaries that had turned up for the auditions. She was worried she wouldn't even make it to the front of the line as she was constantly being pushed to the side by the large, brutish men and women. If she didn't think of something, her one real opportunity for a better life would be gone without her even getting to see it.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

As it happens, the king had hired a panel of celebrities to whittle down the contestants in a novel game show take on questing. The first challenge pulled randomly off the abacus computer was to wash up dishes from the previous night's digustingly gluttonous feast. The serving maid's moustache twitched with unforseen excitement.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

Could fate have been more clever, for surely there was no one amongst the barbarians that could handle dishes with speed and grace as she could. When at long last it came to her turn she rolled up her sleeves and set about the chore with gusto, slipping into habitual song as the scrubbed and rinsed and stacked with ferocious efficiency.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

The barbarian warriors twirled their weapons and dealt fatal blows to stacked crockery to their left and right, carving a ketchup stained path through the dirty dishes. That is all except for a senstive young knight who had dreamed of a neat and tidy world.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

For this young sir the most difficult part of the dish challenge was tying back his locks, which seemed to be ever caught in some soft breeze that gently moved them and nothing else, so they did not become sullied. Taming his glistening mane was no easy task, but all of the judges seemed taken with his luscious hair that they gave him extra points. 
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

The barbarian warrior heroes soon became bored with smashing plates to dust and fell to fighting each another. They groaned and yelled and grunted and swore and sweated until they had reduced one another to a messy twitching red pulp, which the maid joyfully cleared up. Before long only two remained to face the final selection challenge.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

The second challenge was painting a realistic yet flattering portrait of the king. The two remaining contestants exchanged nervous glances, and even the judges seemed worried.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

Luckily, both finalists are given the night to prepare, whilst the king is given a scrub and hose down before having his excess hair plucked and fat strapped up. That evening the maid was doing some hobby dusting around the palace when she discovered a painting of the king as a young man. 'Aha,' she thought, 'I'll use that.' The sensitive young man with the flowing hair had quite a different plan.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

The dashing young knight, whose name happened to be Emmet, had formulated what in his mind was the most cunning plan of all. All he needed was a mirror, a head of cabbage, six marbles, a live herring, and a feather pillow.
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Boatman

All these items bar one he traded for a magic potion from the hermit wise woman which he slipped into the decanter of wine the judges were refilling their glasses from. The drug had the desired effect.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

The eyes of the judges slowly turned purple, indicating the potion had taken effect. So, with his best salesman smile he presented the mirror before the king as his portrait. The judges oohed and aahed, under the insidious grip of potion. Emmet painstakingly described the minute technique required for the painting, spinning a line of bull so intricate and so fine it was almost irresistible.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

Unfortunately, the judges entirely lost their concentration as the unrefined second grade potion turned them into gibbering idiots, which ironically enhanced their celebrity status with the public. In their indecision, the judges concluded that both contestants should go on the quest and the one who returned with the ash first would have the hand of the prince. (It was not made clear if the runner up would get the rest of him)
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

The two set off on this dangerous quest. The young but extremely efficient maid still wearing her mustache and Emmet the knight with his hair billowing majestically behind him. Madilynn, the maid, found the gorgeous hair to be quite distracting and twirled her false mustache vigorously, trying to keep her mind off it. There journey was fairly uneventful until one day during their sea crossing.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

They came across a Siren who made her call (as she does for all tourists).
"There be fog ahead I'm bein' expectin'," the captain  croaked knowledgeably in his strange way. "No, look over there," cried Emmet raising his arm majestically. Blushing,  he added, "It is an curvy damsel sitting on a rock with her top bits hanging out. And the sight of such pendulous objects is mysteriously make me think of dashing the ship on the rocks to fondle them.
"I'll protect you from her", yelled Madi over the terrible trumpeting. Fearlessly, she wrapped herself around him placing a hand over his eyes to blot out the temptation and drawing his hips against hers. It was then her moustache started twitching uncontrollably.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

The siren sulked, her Weapons of Mass Distraction having been thwarted by the quick thinking maid, so she pulled out her banjo and cranked her caterwauling up to 11. The sound was so intense, while not exactly unpleasant, it was still quite painful. Everyone covered their ears except for Madi, who still covering up Emmet's eyes with one hand could only cover one of hers. With painful slowness the ship made its way past the rocks upon which the siren was perched, as she continued to rock out epically, displaying banjo skills that all on board couldn't help but find impressive. When they were finally at a safe distance they were all able to uncover their ears, unharmed except for the made, Madi, who having only been able to protect half of herself was left partially deaf in one ear and all the hair on the corresponding side of her head had turned snow white.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

Soon the ship reached the part of the chart marked 'untold danger'. And the captain said, "There be untold danger ahead, just like I mentioned to the last lot what came 'ere. But did they listen? No!"
"What is the untold danger, if I might ask?," Madi enquired somewhat effeminately. "Should we be worried?"
The captain was just about to explain when suddenly the ship lurched forwards, swirling down through a portal to the underworld.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

As the ship tipped forward to an alarming angle many of those on board screamed. One of the screams was particularly high pitched and girly, it turned out to be Emmet who stood in the middle of the deck looking rather sheepish as his companion and all the sailors stared at him. While the sailors seemed to be fairly well adjusted to this strange turn of events only the Bos'n seemed truly at ease, wrapped as he was in his habitual veil of strange purplish mist. He just continued to smoke his pipe and hum odd tunes. Madilynn, whose life had left her little to fear losing stepped forward slowly, walking up the railing and peering into the swirling abyss that yawned below. She gasped, surprised by its splendor and stomach turning beauty.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

To her surprise, when Madi couldn't contain her excitement and had to visit the eyes of the ship for a wee, she found two buttons on the Japanese style toilet that controlled the trajectory of the spiralling ship as it plummeted through a hole in caverns of the underworld. 'Lovely stalactites,' she  remarked to herself on passing. Then she noticed the teeth filled yawning chasm of a dragon's leering mouth dead ahead so she shouted to Emmet, "should I go right or left?"
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

Emmet, who was a little unsettled by the motion of the ship and feeling a slightly nauseous, had absolutely no idea which way they should go. He stuttered briefly in his lack of knowledge and towering indecision, before finally shouting, left! Madi pressed the button and the ship lurched suddenly, yawing wildly. The knight was knocked off his feet and sent rolling across the deck with my clanking and clattering. It became impossible to see what was going on around the ship as the movement continued, growing more violent.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

Until a waft of newly released hot air (from the volcanic depths or the dragons' empty intestines) slowed the ship's descent and they landed softly in a pit full of giant woodlice. The lousy leader's tiny eyes sparkled at the thought of so much virgin wood and his mandibles juddered with excitement. He signalled for the army to advance and take no prisoners as what would they do with them? Emmet rubbed the tears from his eyes. "I should have turned the other way, he blubbed. I am so sorry."
Madi rushed to comfort him as he flicked back his gorgeous hair and blinked, "will you all forgive me?"
Just then the gnawing started.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

The mysterious Bos'n, still enveloped in his inexplicable mist, quickly took charge. Soon the sailors had bundled everyone into the life boats, which luckily enough were equipped with sled rails and moved easily over the slick surface of the strange cavern. Almost everyone made it, except of few crew members who had made the mistakes of wearing red shirts, despite being warned how unlucky they were. The small craft skittered away as the enormous insects consumed the once mighty sea craft in a cacophony of horrendous munching. Having managed to climb into the same craft as Emmet, who was still bewailing his ill-fated choice of direction, Madi softly petted his radiant locks, marveling at their silky softness.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

#83
As the lifeboats slid along the gently sloping ice-like cavern floor, two collided and were sent spinning off in different directions. “Oooh, weeeeee…. this is so much fun,” the sailors shouted joyfully. “Why didn’t you take us here before captain?”
The captain shook his head. “That here be the dissolving sea and it do be on the chart three skill levels above yourn,” he warned, wagging the remaining finger of his right hand.
The sailors’ joyful shouts and cheers soon faded to groans as one of the spinning boats got stuck on a slight incline. “Awwwww,” its crew moaned disappointedly, all except for one sailor who said, “I’ll get out and push.” 
He leapt out and seemed Ok, but then his sea boots started smoking. And within a few second of touching the shiny surface, the wide eyed seaman had dissolved into a steaming blob of goo with a hiss like sizzling bacon.
“Captain, why did you bring us here,” the terrified crew wailed. “We are all going to die horrible gooey deaths.”
For once, Emmet wasn’t frightened. His mind was elsewhere. Once he’d finally stopped sobbing, he noticed that Madi, his comforter had rather attractive curvy hips. “Maybe I am gay after all,” he sighed to himself, “being attracted to a chap with such an abundantly masculine moustache. Perhaps I am destined to marry the prince.”
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

Madi, noticing the handsome, radiantly haired knight noticing her, blushed furiously and turned away, harrumphing and twirling her mustache nervously. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted. She was going to complete the quest and marry the prince, even if the royal locks were no where near as majestic and petable as Emmet's. Shaking her head she chided herself for entertaining such thoughts while helpless sailors dissolved into shrieking death around her. She was on a quest dammit, and there was no time to be pondering strands of silken hair, no matter how much she may desire to do so.

Resolved on the matter the young maid turned back toward the sailors sharing her life boat. She had often gone sledding as a child and knew that leaving their direction to the mercy of the sled rails was foolhardy at best. Raising her voice so that the other boat's might hear as well she gave simple instructions in the art of sledding, specifically, using body weight to control their direction. The crew took to the task with ease and soon the sled-boats were gracefully moving in formation.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

#85
For some reason the mysterious Bos'n's leaning one way and then the other didn't affect the attitude of his sled boat at all. "That be odd," the captain remarked knowledgeably. "I'll be having to be doing it myself" And sure enough, the captain's not inconsiderable weight soon brought their boat under control.

Emmet, meanwhile, although tempted to simply enjoy the feeling of his hair floating and twirling in the slipstream as they whisked along, was marvelling at Madi's decisiveness and wondered if he could be falling in true love with the wrong man.

But the ride could not go on forever and Madi's instructions came thick and fast as the towering walls closed in and then split into various exits through huge arches. "Do you need my help choosing an exit, young sir," Emmet piped up trying to impress his new love. "No, you're alright sir Emmet," she replied in as gruff a voice as she could manage. "We're going left... Now lean!" Maid and Emmet's boat, followed by the Bos'n's slipped smoothly into a wide bay and plopped over a small ledge onto what appeared to be grass, then stopped. Behind them, the two remaining crews could hear the echoing screams of their former shipmates being ripped apart by clawed beasts.
History, where creative writing was born.

Phix

The terrifying howl cracked the silence, sending shivers down everyone's spine.
"Harr! 'Tis the dreaded Water Witch!" yelled the silent up to this moment, but still ever-present Skipper Pegleg. "Row fer er life, me dear lads!"
The old man turns to the ledge. "Hurry, ye lovebirds! RUN!"

Dys Astyr

Sir Emmet had just, in an attempt to repair his the damage done to his reputation by the siren incident had just started to test the strange grassy turf by poking it with his sword when a bone chilling howl rocked the strange cavern. A shout went up from the crew as they scrambled to get away from the source of the sound. He looked to Madi for reassurance, but found his comrade to be as confused as himself.

The howl echoed through the caverns a second time, closer now, causing the good knight's glorious hair to stand on end. There was no moving the sled-boats on the strange grassy turf with any kind of speed. The best bet would be to make a run for it.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

Then came the flapping sound and a dark shape with huge jagged wings swooped down from the upper reaches of the cavern and in the blink of an eye plucked a sailor from the captain’s
sled-boat. The sailor screamed, cursed and waggled his legs all to no avail as he was quickly whisked away and up towards an untidy nest full of chicks perched on a rocky pinnacle.
The boats’ crews gasped in horror as birdosaurus dropped the tiny speck of their comrade into one of the yawning beaks and the faint sound of his screams ceased.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

So they ran, for little choice was left them, further into the bowels of the underworld and all its untold dangers. Madi holding tightly to Emmet's cape, the ever dwindling company of sailors ran along, except for the Bos'n who seemed to be sort of floating, but he was keeping up so no one paid it much mind. Away the fled, without rhyme or reason, until at last they stopped, out of breath and nursing serious cramps in their ribs, with the exception of the purple mist veiled Bos'n who calmly puffed on his pipe.

"What do we do now?" Madi gasped as she panted in attempt to fill lungs that felt as though they would never be full again. Next to her Emmet was bent forward, one hand braced on his leg, the other cradling his cramp riddled side, the flaxen locked knight tried to say something, but only to managed to move his mouth like a fish out of water before giving up and dropping his head again. Their uncharted flight of terror had taken them through many twistings and turnings only to deposit them in what appeared to be a cave full of crystals that gave of a soft, almost musical hum. Only the Bos'n was in the position to appreciate this however, and he in his mysterious misty life, had seem things besides which the crystalline cave seemed bland so he didn't much care.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

The captain couldn't catch his breath either, which probably saved everyone from suffering another banal comment. However, instead he got out his old beer, whisky, smoke and fish stained chart which only his trained eye could make any sense of. He sniffed a few possible islands and cavern systems shaking his head. Then turned the map up the other way and found another mark which set him off tugging at his straggly beard excitedly.
He scanned around as if searching the distant horizon then pointed over at the shape of a door cunningly concealed within the humming and throbbing crystalline structure. Looking a little closer, they all saw a notice which read,
Path to the Haderrmolk.
TRESPASSERS WILL BE VAPOURISED.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
!’
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

"Vaporized?!" squeaked Emmet, for vaporization had not been on his list of things he was prepared to deal with in this quest. The small gaggle of surface dwellers crowded around the door as they argued about what to do, voices echoing in the crystalline space until they had become distorted into a sort of funky, psychedelic tune.  Finally, mustache bristling with impatience, Madi yelled for quiet, forgetting to disguise her voice, then promptly harrumphed in a gruff manner.

"We can't very well go back, when right here is a door to the very thing we seek!" She glared at each person in turn, only becoming slightly distracted when she noticed Emmet fidgeting nervously with his marvelous hair. There was no way that they could turn around now, not when they were so close to that supernaturally soft volcanic ash and the fabulous new life that would buy her. The sailors all slowly conceded the point, mainly because there really it was the least worst option they had at the moment.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself the young handsomely mustached maid took hold of the door handle, and yanked open the door. A thick orange fog rolled out, spilling eagerly from its confines. It smelled of peppermint and caused a fit of coughing among those closest to the door. When finally it cleared they all peered into the door, both dreadful and curious of what lie beyond. None of them were prepared for the sight that greeted them beyond. A long hallway carpeted with plush, finely woven rugs ran into the distance. It was well lit with tasteful crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling at regular intervals, the walls were finely painted and buttressed into the sculpted ceiling panels. Rococo style paintings in ridiculously elaborate guilt frames burdened the walls above spindly legged tables that seemed to delicate to support the bowls of almost too perfect fruit that sat on them.

For long moments all they could do was sit and stare. 
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Boatman

It was Emmet who, peeping nervously round from behind Madi’s defensive stance, broke the party’s deadlocked thoughts. “I, Sir Emmet, a brave knight of the realm, handsome to boot, will sacrifice myself by covering the group’s rear from danger allowing others to press on towards our goal.”

Madi, touched by Emmet’s offer, approached the knight and gave him a reassuring hug whispering tenderly through her macho dangling moustache, “Yes pet, I wouldn’t want you in danger at the front. I’d never forgive myself.”
Then Madi turned her attention to the whole group and raised an arm. “ We’re going in... Follow me.”

But the advance was only short lived, for no sooner had Madi and a few others entered the hallway when a gnarled hunchbacked maid stepped out from the shadows to confront the party.
“Hoy you lot, where do you think you are going? This is private, so clear off!”

Madi noticed the badge on the the maid’s arm and went over to show her own. “You are a fellow member of the cleaners’ guild. Pleased to meet you. We’re not here to cause trouble, just to collect a bit of ash.”
The woman’s face fell almost doing herself a mischief. “I was beautiful like you once,” she admitted sorrowfully, “But then I became addicted to the ash... I’ve tried to come off it, but now I have to take it just to live. If you are determined though, I have a drawer full over here.”
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

Madi weighed the old woman's words in her head, addicted to ash? Such a strange thing. Undeterred she followed as the other woman walked ahead, leaving the sailors gathered round the door, Emmet's glorious golden locks just barely visible behind them. Her fate was ahead of her though, if she wished to marry the prince and be ruler of the realm, she had only to go with the old woman and retrieve the ash. Mind churning with the improbability that she could be so conflicted so close to the finish line she stepped into the small room, decorated in matching fashion to the hallway.

In the room, was a highboy dresser that perched on spindly, unhappy looking legs. The crone pulled a chair up to the highboy and with joints groaning in protest clambered upon it. Slowly, reverently she slid the top drawer open, looking down at its contents utterly rapt.

"Excuse me, do you need help getting that down?" the young maid girl inquired, stepping forward to assist.
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Boatman

Just then Emmet appeared at Madi’s shoulder with the Captain and the mysterious Bos’n behind them. It was getting crowded but no one seemed too bothered.

Emmet flicked back his luscious hair and waited for admiring glances before announcing, “This is a job for a knight. I will take the risk of climbing up to those considerable heights to recover the prize.” His mind was racing, imagining the painting of the moment when he, Sir Emmet, had bravely plucked the Holy Grail, or in this case ash, from its filigree casket, or in this case an old drawer.

Emmet pushed through and clambered up rather shakily still imagining how the painting of his triumph would be on display, set a golden frame for all to see as he took his vows with the prince. ‘No… that wasn’t right… He wanted Madi... No… NO!’

The knight wobbled precariously with one hand gripping the drawer which was itself sliding out.
The Captain growled, “Ah, that looks as unsteady as a pissed tar.”
The Bosun added, “But not as unsteady as some I’ve seen.”

Everyone took a step back as Emmet fell and was covered from head to toe in the ash.
The old crone creaked her gnarled head sadly from side to side.
“He’s a goner, unless....”
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

"Unless you can get him to the mouth of the volcano and make a sacrifice to the fiery god who lives there," the crone continued after an necessarily long pause for dramatic effect. Madi, who was quite upset by the whole turn of events looked upon the fallen Emmet and her mustached twitched furiously.

"Yes of course!" she cried, desperate to undo whatever horrific process had begun. "Anything."

"I'm afraid its not that simple," the old woman said, wagging a gnarled finger. "The god of this infernal mountain is very particular and will only except a fresh faced young maiden as tribute. She must jump willingly into his molten embrace where she will burst into flames and be consumed." Madi reeled in shock at the gristly turn her fate would take if she chose to save the knight with his petable hair. "Oh one more thing," the aged ash-fiend added, "You also need a bottle of spiced rum, a bottle of ginger ale, and one of those little cocktail umbrellas, to make him his favorite drink, otherwise he won't even see you."

How was she going to get all those things here, already in the bowels of the volcano she wondered. Was she really willing to fling herself to a fiery death for Emmet? Was it worth saving his glistening locks if her fingers no longer existed to stroke them? She didn't know the answers, but she had no time to consider, whatever she was going to do must be done now.
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Boatman

The pile of ash seemed quite considerable for the size of the drawer that had contained it. Some magic perhaps? Or maybe lots had seeped round the back over the years and now joined the cascade to freedom. Whatever the reason, the place where Emmet had fallen now looked like a superficial burial mound. But then, two beautifully long lashed lids opened sweeping away grey dust to reveal wild looking eyes at the head end.

Emmet jumped up, ash clinging to him, and looked desperately from person to person complaining, “Look at my hair, it’s all dirty.” And then seeing their expressions, he whined, “You know something awful, don’t you?”
Madi stepped forwards to console him and tell him her plan. But he took fright and with arms stretched out in front of him ran around screaming, “I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”

The Captain, more or less oblivious to the party’s current predicament, squinted at the map and declared, “There be a tourist shop down that there be corridor where we can get the glass and ginger ale. Then I’ve a cocktail umbrella packed in my boot for emergencies. As far as the rum be concerned though, I’ve run out, so we’ll need to stop by at there be shrine to Bacchus Ischyrós. But problem there be. He and drink be encircled by ten solid Roman feet of stone and our chisels be thee lost in it be last rowing boat.”
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

Madi sighed, listening to the Captain's words with a heavy heart, worrying that excavating the shrine would take up too much time, even with the proper tools. "Perhaps they will have pick axes or maybe some dynamite at the gift shop as well." It wasn't terribly likely, but the stout-hearted maid was not ready to throw in the towel. Gathering all of her courage, and a large sackful of ash off the floor, she decided to do what needed to be done.

They made a trip to the gift shop, searching its small confines was quick with all the sailors to help, and even though they left with quite a bit more than they came to buy, (Horace had to have the volcano snowglobe for his collection and Geoff needed new shoe laces, etc...) they had no luck finding tools with which to cut through the thick rock that protected the rum. The Captain, perceptive man that he was, sensed the heaviness of the young's mustached maid's countenance and started to offer words of comfort when Emmet, who had been growing ever more paranoid jumped in front of him and shoved a finger against one of the brass buttons on the Captain's coat. Third button from the top on the left to be exact.

"You there!" The Captain started to protest, but Emmet bent forward, addressing his words to the button. "Yes you! I see you there. You think your so sly, so sneaky, but I'm on to you!" The knight punctuated his words with a second poke and a flip of his hair. "Know that your plot will never succeed, for I Emmet, dashing and shimmering knight of the silken locks shall not allow it!"

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Look, Emmet!  ;D Surprisingly like the actual character pictured.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

#98
“I’ve seen all this before said the shimmering Bos’n,” shaking his head sadly. “One victim became so mad I had to slip through a rock wall to escape him. I’m afraid you’ll have to tie Sir Emmet up, or perhaps down.”

“No need for that,” Madi said calmly resting her hand on Emmet’s shoulder before sliding it over for a quick squeeze. “I interrupted a big eared visiting professor of logic practicing this on himself in the mirror when I went to clean his room. He told me not to mention it in case I disrupted the space time continuum or something odd like that. I thought he was probably just a normally weirdo academic…until I gave the move a try on my brother er.. sister. By the way, I was just cleaning as a favour,”  Madi explained dropping her voice a few octaves as her moustache twitched uncontrollably.

Emmet sighed and flopped into Madi’s arms. She quickly put him down and shook the dust off herself.

The Captain slouched over to Madi and whispered with a wink that turned into five. “One other thing that maybe there you finding of interest young sir, is that I be there in my seabag havin’ a blow up woman in case of emergencies there be. As presently in our sadly found dire lack of totty. Jusin case, arrh. Also useful for practicin’ first aid.”


[Wow S, ... that is the dashingly brave Sir Emmet to a T]
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

#99
Madi looked down at the prone form of the knight, mixed emotions knotting her stomach. Was she really prepared to do the unthinkable? In the greater scheme of things, whose life was more important? Sure Emmet was handsome and he had amazing, perfect hair but he was a bit dim, and she had big plans of changing the world. What would Emmet do with the prince by his side? Would he let the other man pet his sumptuous locks? The thought made her quite irrationally jealous and rather intrigued but before those tricky ideas could congeal into a distracting train of thought, a light bulb went off in her brain. After much blinking and mustache twitching she turned sharply to the Bos'n, ever present pipe clutched in his teeth.

"Say that again!" She demanded excitedly, fingers ticking together as if she was counting something.

"What, that you will have to tie up th-"

"No, not that part! Before that, about when this happened before." The mustached girl was shifting from one foot to the other, plan slowly coming together.

"Oh, about the fellow who went so off his rocker I slipped through a wall of stone? Well let me tell you, that's quite a-" The Bos'n was clearly fond of reminiscing and normally Madi would have obliged but at the moment didn't have the time.

"Could you do it again? Walk through a wall I mean, to get the rum?" Madi waited anxiously as the shimmering man considered her request, rubbing at his chin.

Meanwhile the button laughed in its silent button voice. For a moment things had looked dicey, but the fools remained none the wiser.

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Boatman

It was 3000 steps up to the site of the shrine of strong Bacchus, so the party decided to take the lift and paid the hooded attendant in coin as requested. The lift man was very chatty, explaining how he used to work on the pleasure boats ferrying people down to the underworld, but had to give that up when he developed a touch of rheum in his punt arm. Now his son has the job apparently. But these younguns, no sense of dignity. Playing downloads at full volume. Such disturbing echoes all round the caverns.

Madi asked about the shrine. “Oh yes, nothing much to see apart from a wall of rock. It seems a magician hid his magic refilling rum cauldron in a nook then cast a spell to surround it with rock so no one would steal it. Then, as the story goes, he became senile and forgot the entry word. Personally, I think it could be a marketing trick to get loads of people up here to look at an ordinary rock. Mind you, I’m not complaining. Apparently though, the magician is still alive spending his last days turning the cobwebs of man eating spiders into women’s clothing.”

Emmet now tied on a makeshift stretcher by his reversed designer underwear, groaned pathetically about needing his hair washed. Everyone, except the button, looked hopefully to Madi for instructions..
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

The light jazzy music in the elevator gave the long ride a rather ominous feel, Madi looked around and saw all the faces painted with expectation, waiting on her to reveal the plan. She cleared her throat and swished her mustache from side to side. "Alright, the plan is that the Bos'n will slip in and get the rum, then we head to the mouth of the volcano and summon Haderrmolk with use of the mixed drink, then we will trick him with the Captain's inflatable girl convincing him to cure Emmet before throwing her at him and running away." She nodded, mainly to convince herself that it was possible.

Everyone in the elevator nodded too, as if there were actually a half way decent chance the plan would work. The soft ding letting them know they had arrived was like the drum roll of doom. The motley group filed out of the lift, the hooded attendant still chatting away at them. They followed the neon signs to the shrine, not pausing to pick up the informative pamphlets that were everywhere. The hooded attendant had not been joking, there appeared to be nothing more than a rock wall.

Madi looked at the Bos'n shrouded in his ever present purplish mist, all their hopes rested on him now. If he could get the rum, they had an almost imperceptible chance of pulling this off and escaping before anyone realized their deception.
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Boatman

All eyes were on the Bos’n who for the first time looked uncertain. He hung his head sadly.
“Ever since I have been on the medication from that doc with ‘love’ and ‘hate’ tattooed on his knuckles, things have been fine. I have seemed to float everywhere, man.”

The captain was not slow to offer encouragement on this score. “But I have seen that you are doing what is that floating about. Mean t’was real floatin’. Unless my medication be that it is playing up too.”

“Alright, I’ll give it a go,” said the Bos’n bravely, flashing like a neon light on the blink. Then without further ado, he vanished into the rock.

The seconds passed like minutes. And the minutes passed like minutes too. Everyone stood about fidgeting except those who were past caring or hadn’t really been explained as characters yet.

The Bos’n reappeared and looked round. “Quick, he mumbled almost incomprehensibly, fetch a cup.”

“What sort of cup?,” Madi asked.

“Anyy… Damn, I’ve swallowed it... MMM, tasty though... hic.”
A wan smile spread across the Bosn’s face and he seemed to become even more blurry.
“I’ll have another… hic…. go.”
And he vanished.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

It took several more excruciating (for everyone but the Bos'n anyway) attempts to get the requisite rum for the drink. Retreating back to the elevator they carefully mixed the only two ingredients of the drink, a painstaking task set to the inappropriate tune sung by their floating, mist veiled friend about having a whale of a tale (or two) about loving a mermaid girl who swapped him for a trout, and it was all true he swore on his tattoo... Or something.

For everyone else the ride was grim, for the prospect of trying to trick the fiery god of the mountain had a long list of consequences, but surprisingly no one opted out of this near suicidal mission, something about losing their health insurance. The hooded attendant seemed sad to see them heading up to the mouth of the volcano and his goodbye was ominously tearful. Madi lead the way, stomach in knots, carrying the glass of rum and ginger ale which needed only the addition of the small paper umbrella.

It was a solemn walk (or rather ride for the still unconscious Emmet) to the ravenous mouth of the volcano.The air was hot and smelled of sulfur, which no one found especially pleasant. The point of no return had been reached, and looking about the jagged rocks bathed in the furious red glow of the lava Madi found herself wondering if this was where he journey would end.
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

A flash of lightning tore across the suddenly dark sky splitting a nearby rock in two.
Another struck the path behind the party crumbling a few boulders down into the smoking crater.
There was a sound like distant thunder.
“That sounds like godly laughter,” said one sailor.
“It sounds evil,” replied another sailor nervously..
“That laughter don’t half sounding like be evil it is,” observed the captain.
“Hic,” said the Bos’n agreeably.
Another streak of lightning zigzagging across the sky.
A voice closer by.
“You will kneel down and worship me.”
To a man, and woman, the party knelt. Except for Emmet who was lying, the Bos’n who was floating at an odd angle, and the button.
Madi, setting aside her fear, piped up. “Where are you exactly, oh god of the volcano?”
“Over here,” came the voice.
Members of the party ventured to peep left and right, but couldn’t see anything looking like a deity.
“No, over here,” the voice spake again. “I’m the shadow on the rock in front of you.”
“You are not very clear,” ventured Madi looking at the silhouette of a piggy shaped head with horns cast by the red glow of the lava.
“Well, you know now!...
Bring forward the sacred drink and leave it on the rock.”
The captain gave Madi the little umbrella. She inserted it into the rum and ginger drink and deposited this on the rock, before returning to her place.
“Good, good. Now bring forward the one to be cured,” the voice continued in its terrible monotone.
Emmet was fetched and left. He started to stir.
“Now, the fresh faced maiden must cast herself into the volcano!”
Madi heard a wheezing puffing sound from behind her. Followed by a loud pop and cursing.
“Quickly!,” The voice insisted.
“What if we haven’t got a woman in the party?” demanded Madi hopefully.
“You know you have. She’s disguised as a man!”
Madi’s moustache twitched so rapidly it almost took off and mated with a passing butterfly.
Everyone in the party looked around, scratched their heads, and then pointed at Emmet who was just getting up and yawning.
“I knews it all being along. Yes, Emmet is a woman,” The captain concluded.
Emmet was suddenly alert and looking frightened. “I’m not a woman, really I am not.”
Madi ran forward. “Emmet dear, you are alright. I’ve been so worried.”
She gave him a hug.
Just then, one of the piggy god’s horns fell off.
“Oops,” came a voice.
Madi gently let Emmet go and purposefully strode round the back of the rocks.
Moments later she returned with the old crone who’d met them at the entrance. She was wearing a piggy glove puppet with a horn missing.
Madi looked at the old woman quizzically. “You have some explaining to do old crone. I get the bit about Emmet being cured by the sulphur… but why all the god stuff? And why did you need a young maiden? Not that we have any.” She said in the deepest voice she could manage.
History, where creative writing was born.

Dys Astyr

"Because I'm old and I want to retire! This is the fire god's summer house but he is never here, even though he was supposed to hire a replacement for me years ago. Yet here I am still, wasting away my golden years alone in a volcano instead of playing bingo and living in a nice 55+ community with a hot tub." The crone continued to talk, even though no one was really listening.

Emmet, who was feeling much better was quite confused by all the commotion, very worried about his glorious locks in the high stress environment of the volcano and the possibility that they might catch fire, caught up as they were in their own breeze. He was so preoccupied with the prospect that he was quite unable to pay attention.

Madi however was more sympathetic to the old woman's plight, despite having no interest in a complete retelling of her life's story at the moment. Truthfully it was quite unfair for the woman to be stuck here, wasting away her life, while the fire god frolicked about the cosmos. "Why don't you just leave?" She inquired.

The crone looked truly taken aback, as if the thought was mind boggling. "Leave? Leave? And where would I go that the fire god would not find me when he returns and is angry about the dust?"

The mustached maid considered the old woman's words, nodding as they made quite a valid point. After some though she offered a plan, "You can leave, and we will write out a note that we came to the volcano on a quest, and upon finding you dead disposed of your body in the most convenient way possible, by throwing it in the volcano. He cannot seriously expect you to live forever right?"

"You know... I think that might just work." The crone clapped her gnarled old hands together happily. "Finally I will be free of this wretched place!"

Madi gave her mustache a victory twirl, "I love it when a good plan comes together."
Alive! Trying to catch up but there is a lot, please be patient! Thank you. <3

Boatman

“One thing, though,” Madi added. “Would you be able to tell us how to transport the ash safely. And more importantly, how to get out of here without losing the other half of our expedition?”

The old nameless crone beamed and pointed vaguely. “It is straightforward. There is a scenic path through the mountains. Although treacherous to either side it leads straight to the…”

She paused mid sentence and slapped her head, sighing deeply. “Did I mention the Guardian? I didn’t, did I? I’d forget my knitting if it wasn’t in my handbag.”

Emmet’s ears perk up just as he finally manages to get his hair under control. He steps forward, chest out. “If there is a measly Guardian, I will deal with it, violently if necessary. Do not fear old withered woman.”

The crone continued sadly. “It’s not that simple. The Guardian may appear in any form and is very cunning. If turning up as a male, it will try and steal away the female in your party. If female, it will seduce one of the males…. And either have its wicked way or devour the victim depending upon its mood. If feeling very needy, it might take everyone, one by one.

But don’t be concerned about my safety brave knight. It knows I am a member of staff, so it won’t trouble me… On the other hand, if it sees me going this might ruin our plan for my escape… Whatever are we to do, brave mustachioed escort?”
History, where creative writing was born.

Nowherewoman

"MonGEESE!" one snarled in the midst of his (her? Only another mongeese knows for sure) fever dream.
Instead of obsessing on the person you want to be, focus on who you DON'T want to be. It's much easier to not do certain things than to break your head on some ideal of yourself.

When the dust settles, you may find out you've become who you were supposed to be all along.

more me here now!  (O/Os, ideas and junk): https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=215830.0

and mea culpas  (A/As): https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=221151.0

Boatman

Emmet jumped into Madi's arms for protection. "What was that terrible noise?"
History, where creative writing was born.