Posted July 2, 2015 [ salutes ] we will remember your valuable sacrifice, clarke omg ohh truetru/// let's create a to-do list haa : ' D omg sounds good! i like it. c: the op can be kept as an information masterlist just in case we need to refer back to it / expand on anything! hmm oh truetrue i like the term warlock--wizard works too! either way, i agree-since everyone is male we should probably use another term. ; u ; pfftt omg i'm crying well um soul gems... i kind of like the idea of it being their weapon? as in either mounted on their weapon or their soul gem can become their weapon, so in order to take another Champion's soul gem thing they need to kill the Champion and then ?? yeah ??? [ throws ideas around ] i'd be fine with it being an actual soul gem too, as well : ' D it can be included in their outfit somewhere nice and safe so it won't be easily accessed! OHH DANG DANG maybe clarke somehow tricked the deity and let jett live bc it was just ~*too painful*~ and it makes him really nervous and sad bc he just thinks of jett still living on as a witch/warlock/wizard/thing and he hates himself for it too bc jett was like 'clarke listen if this goes wrong i need u to end me so i wont harm anyone' only he's like 'omg nope can't do it' omg oh dang yess <33 they run into him and kanvar finds out the hard way what happened to clarke's old partner, who he just never talks about and maybe it could be that clarke/witch!jett both have some prominent scar from their oooo mighty battle and kanvar is like. oh. ohhhhh. oooo dang </33333 clarke just hands him the gem like here u go he never really discovers it until later and the deity doesn't help either omg i like this so much holds kanvar close beautiful cinnamon roll, must protect omg yes truetrue O: i think we should definitely develop more on the raven & others so we have some plot devices! omg hmmm well..... the reason would have to be pretty major for all this killing and witch stuff// maybe it's one of those reasons where its like good in moderation, not too good when you actually try it out?? omg yESYES please we should create some rivals omg <333 hmm i like that! and so there's no one to really warn kanvar of what he's getting into and clarke is just p sad omg <333 hmm thinking more on the rival / our characters conflict--maybe clarke and jett came really close to achieving whatever goal it was before jett went witch? and so the rivals are kind of like we have to stop them or else _____ and so there's huge pressure on kanvar to succeed where jett failed and clarke is just like : ^ | and the raven deity is like so close children you must do it and so kanvar is unaware just how dangerously close their dancing to the line and clarke can't just tell him bc raven deity is there and so they're just immediately pushed into the heat of battle and everything bc its like omg need that thing maybe for rivals we could have a character that's really close to the deity for some reason or another?? like it saved their life somehow so its like > i owe u my life ?? omg i'm actually so excited for this like oh man you have no idea : ' D magical boys!!! this is amaze omf Share this post Link to post
Posted July 3, 2015 Even the skies fail to lighten his mood. Clarke drops his head just as a breeze stirs up his dark locks, shuffling messy hair through the wind. The male sighs as he kicks a pebble, watching the small stone skid across the cement road. It's any casual day, with the sun half hidden between clouds and the sky tinted just the slightest bit grey. School has already let out for some time now, yet the male has no intention of returning home. He doesn't ever want to return to what hurts him so much. They should be happy. They are happy. So why does he feel as if he can't breathe? Every time his sister, his darling little sister, runs up and hugs his legs, clings on to them with all the trust and love of a child--why does it hurt so much? He was happy. He thought he was. Unbidden, memories from the past rise--memories that are better left hidden, because Clarke knows by now. He knows that no matter how hard he fights against the forces of the earth, no matter how much he struggles because he still wants to believe that there is something worth living for-- I want you to live. So why did you leave me? he silently questions the air before him, chiseled features twisting down in a frown, displeased, almost mocking. A memory of dark, dark eyes rises in his mind, and he pushes the sight down because he knows--he knows he's never going to see those eyes ever again because the last time he saw them he had to push his spear straight through-- His breathing quickens by just the slightest fraction as he grips his coat closer, clenching his fists into the material. Despite the somewhat welcoming spring weather, he's still dressed in preparation for when he knows it'll get cold. Shaking ever-so-slightly--it's not visible if you don't look close, and Clarke has absolutely no plans of ever letting someone near him ever again-- He thinks of a warm, warm embrace, and had the black-haired male not been more practised he would've broken down right there and then. Instead, Clarke simply grits his teeth--grinds them together, as if he biting down on something hard enough that he can feel it reverberate through his jaw will numb the pain inside of his mind, and walks on. His footsteps, usually light and careful from years of practise, become stomps as he stares straight into the gravel beneath his feet, watches as he tramples over a bed of flowers in his trek to nowhere. He can't bring himself to care, at this point, when he watches a daisy's head fall off the stem in the wake of his temporary rampage. He could care, but he's just so tired. Let's take a rest, Clarke. You've done good. He closes his eyes momentarily, aware of how strange he must look--a man in a large coat, gripping the collar close enough around him that his knuckles are turning white, and-- "I couldn't do it without you," he chokes out, nothing but a faint whisper. His words are soon lost among the wind, and with no one to testify otherwise it's as if he hadn't spoken at all. There's no reply. There always is--was--a reply. He feels a sharp wave of anger, only for it to wash over him like an unstoppable flood. Emotions fly over him, and they're gone as quickly as they came. In the wake of his momentarily lapse, Clarke is left alone in the middle of the street with only his thoughts. Where do I go from here? Even that damned bird doesn't answer. It hurts. It hurts in a way Clarke supposes he'll get used to eventually--or die trying--and so he pushes himself onwards. One. Two. Right. Left. One. Two. Right. Left. Until he catches himself just before he steps onto a rose in the middle of the street. A rose? Why . . . ? Sharp grey eyes glance up, and before him lies a dark alleyway. Instantly, a feeling of dread comes over him as Clarke feels his throat clench up. Sharp claws. A slow, steady red stream. You have to--end-- And then he's tearing through the darkness, desperately trying to shift his way through the alleyway. He's running as if otherwise inhibited, his movements jagged and desperate. His mouth forms a name before he can even think, and he erupts straight into a Labyrinth. J-- Share this post Link to post
Posted July 3, 2015 After two hours of wandering around the city, Kanvar still had absolutely no idea where he was going. It wasn't like the Raven, as he called himself, had given him a specific address. The avian had equipped Kanvar with a vague description of where he wanted the boy to go before sending him off into the world. As unclear as the bird's instructions were, Kanvar wasn't going to complain one bit. Sure, it would have been nice to know exactly where he was going, but surely the Raven knew what he was doing. Kanvar had meet the illusive bird only two days ago but already the boy trusted him. The Raven had healed Armin and, although rude, had been quite helpful so Kanvar so no reason as to why he shouldn't trust the bird. All he had to do now was return the favor and figure out where the Raven wanted him to be. Halting halfway into an alleyway, Kanvar stuffed a hand into his pocket and fished out a small index card. He had written down the directions the Raven had given him onto the card but they were so ambiguous and unclear that Kanvar couldn't decipher its meaning. Forming his mouth into a straight line, Kanvar glanced up from the card, observed his surroundings, and then glanced back down at the index card with an inquiring look upon his face. "This doesn't make any sense," Kanvar mumbled to himself. "I'm supposed to be here, but I don't see any-" Just as Kanvar looked up to scrutinize the alleyway, he suddenly found himself trapped within a maze of roses. For a moment, he just stared, mouth agape and his eyes wide with surprise. "W-What?" Kanvar spun around slowly, staring in awe at the roses that surrounded him. The alleyway had completely vanished, leaving a grassy plain full of shrubbery in its wake. All around Kanvar were large blooming roses, all of which were nearly the size of his head. Though they were primarily a bright scarlet, some of the roses were pure white, a bright yellow, or a soft blue. The scent of morning dew filled the air and the sky suddenly became light with puff clouds drifting across its surface. The musky city had been completely replaced with a flowering paradise. "This can't be it, can it?" Kanvar asked himself as he stuffed his index card into his pocket. He started to walk through the maze, his eyes flickering from one impressive rose to another. The flowers were so grand and lush that they almost appeared to be too healthy. Kanvar was glad that the flowers could obtain such a radiant state but it didn't seem as though they did so naturally. In fact, there was nothing natural about the situation at all. The roses were lovely and the atmosphere was just delightful but Kanvar wasn't sure what was going on. For ten minutes or so, the boy began meandering around the maze, happily looking at the beautiful roses that filled the area. It was only until Kanvar nearly tripped over a large vine did he stop wandering around. His foot grazed across the vine and he stumbled forward, managing to steady his feet. "What on earth?" Kanvar said to no one in particular as he turned around to glanced down at what he had nearly tripped over. It was an overly large vine with a width greater than Kanvar's chest completely covered in large blunt thorns. Kanvar cringed at the thought of what might have happened if he had landed on the vine. "Good thing I didn't fall then," he chimed to himself as he shook his head with a lopsided grin plastered on his face. Just as he began to walk away, he suddenly heard a stir of movement behind him. Kanvar glanced behind him and scanned the perimeter. It didn't look like anyone else was in the area, despite the fact that Kanvar was sure he had heard something move. Shrugging, Kanvar turned around once more only to soon find himself twenty feet in the air with the line beyond him squeezing his chest together. He let out a loud cry of pain as the thorns began to press into his skin. He squirmed to free himself but soon found that struggling only made the vein grip him tighter. He let out fast-paced shaky breaths as the vein began to shake him. He couldn't tell what was going on or where he was but he knew one thing: everything hurt. His screams were unheard and sharp pain shot through his body. His mind went completely blank and all he knew was fear and pain. Share this post Link to post
Posted July 3, 2015 This disgusts him. Clarke grimaces as he shoves his way roughly through waves upon waves of too-perfect roses, and the male instantly knows what this is. Something gathers up at the back of his throat, and Clarke pushes down a headache as he makes his way through to the centre of the Labyrinth. This'll be the first battle . . . without you. Even the thought sends fresh pain coursing through him, as if someone has just lit a red-hot iron and stabbed it through to his core. Clarke winces, momentarily distracted before he clears his thoughts of cobwebs upon cobwebs of memories better left untouched, and advances. Sharp eyes gaze across the horizon, and . . . There. As he moves, Clarke feels a warm, blindingly white light wash across him. The sensation is familiar by now, and not at all unpleasant--the light wraps him up in a blanket, cocooning him within warm arms, but Clarke simply narrowed his eyes and waited for the feeling to pass. When the last of the light dimmed to a mere wisp in the air, Clarke found himself dressed for battle--his coat was draped across his shoulders, a welcoming, comforting familiar sense, and as he looks to the right-- Nothing. There's supposed to be something, right? Nothing. I thought you said you were always at my side. The black-haired male was broken out of his sorrowful trance by a scream--what? Looking on, Clarke's eyes widened as he realised--what? The warlock was holding someone between thorny vines, squeezing tightly. A boy squirmed in its grasp, movements growing increasingly weaker by the second. What was that idiot doing? How had a human ended up in warlock territory? That was pure suicidal intent. Feeling the effects of a large headache begin to build up, Clarke ran forwards. No time to think. He blocks a vine aimed at for his side and twirls his spear around with practised expertise as he chops another cleanly in half. A plant-based warlock? Well, wasn't that just handy. Clarke feels a familiar tingling sensation come over him, and the point of his spear glows a blue-white, lit aflame at his command. He continues battling his way into the heart of the warlock--no. His priority should be saving the boy. A sharp turn of the heel, an almost impaled shoulder, and Clarke shifts directions as he stabs at one of the warlock's larger vines, the plant withering upon impact. An inhuman screech is sent up, echoing around the closed walls of the Labyrinth. The walls are set up like a greenhouse, transparent and lively had it not been for the sky that was dyed blood red, blackened clouds floating about. Clarke hates to think of what this warlock . . . what it used to be. He pushes any thoughts of warlocks to the back of his mind and continues feuding off attacks--damnit! Why . . . why was it so strong? Because you're so used to fighting with him. He didn't think it would be this much of a power drop. A vine heads towards him, tip growing as sharpened and deadly as his spear, and Clarke is ready. At just the last moment, he jumps into the air, using the momentum of the vine's surprised backlash to propel himself towards the one holding the boy. A quick, clean slice, and the newcomer is freed. Clarke grabs the other, quickly retreating to one of the outlying, jagged pieces of glass in the greenhouse, before he all but dumps the boy there and stands up, spear at the ready. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demands, looking back to meet the boy's eyes with a cold grey glare. (( omg i have no idea how clarke managed that without killing them both but magical boy skills [ holds head in hands ] : ' D )) Share this post Link to post
Posted July 3, 2015 Out through the blinding white pain that shot through every nerve in his body, Kanvar could make out a figure moving through the maze of perfect roses. His fine coat stood out profoundly through the sea of green and caught Kanvar's eye. Other vines, similar to the one holding Kanvar captive, began to swarm the newcomer. He dodged the attacks gracefully, leaping about fluidly as he jabbed his long spear at the incoming vines, causing them to wither on impact. An inhuman scream filled the air as Kanvar instinctively tried to bring his hands to his ears only to find he could not do so. Tight pain writhed through his body as he struggled against the vine's vice-grip. With every passing moment he felt his strength dwindle away. The temptation to just close them and let the pain drift away was great and he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep them open. His screaming had stopped minutes after the strange man entered the maze and his attempt to free himself was soon lost. He simply stayed still as the vine tightened its grip around him, bringing him one step closer to an end to his pain. Just as Kanvar's eyelids were becoming too heavy for him to bear, the vine suddenly loosened its grip. Before Kanvar could comprehend what was happening, he was being cradled in someone's arms. For a moment, Kanvar became bewildered. He wasn't going to be hurt again, was he? Just as fear began to plague his mind, Kanvar settled down once he noticed to distinct cloak of the individual he saw earlier. Of course, he wasn't being hurt, he was being recused. Leaning into the stranger's chest, Kanvar allowed himself to relax as the stranger danced his way out of the greenhouse and back into the alleyway. As soon as the maze of roses disappeared from sight, the stranger released his hold over Kanvar and, rather harshly, dropped him onto the ground. Kanvar landed on the ground face first, gritting his teeth as the concrete rubbed against his tender flesh. He slowly picked himself up to his knees, coughing profusely before turning towards the stranger and sitting himself down. He quickly noticed the blood matting his shirt and, after pressing his hand against the blood, he realized that the blood was his. Cringing at pain still flowing through his sore body, Kanvar looked up at his savoir who was now pointing his spear at the injured boy. "What the hell are you doing here?" "Oh me?" Kanvar asked, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "I was just trying to follow some directions a bird gave me. I tried to follow them but they weren't, uh, very clear." Kanvar paused, processing what he had just said. Most people wouldn't believe him if he said he had gotten directions from a bird. Maybe if he gave the nice man the index card he would understand. Not seeing any other option Kanvar, rather painfully, searched for his index card and gently handed it to the stranger. "He said his name was Raven and he told me to come here. Or was it the Raven? I'll have to apologize to him later for forgetting so quickly." Kanvar shook his head at himself before mellowly looking back over at the stranger. He noted that the man's clothing hadn't been torn as badly as his own. Surely the vines had hurt him as well. He wasn't hurt too badly, was he? Kanvar sure hoped so. "Are you hurt, mister?" Kanvar inquired kindly. "You don't look like it but you can never just by lookin'!" Share this post Link to post
Posted July 3, 2015 The guy before him . . . was an idiot. Clarke paused, blinking, as the newcomer gave him a smile--wasn't he hurt? How could he still be so cheerful?--and said something about . . . a bird? I hope that overgrown crow breaks a wing. Clarke glared at the boy, suspicious, as he snatched up the index card, and-- Oh. "Why did you type this?" Is the first thing he can think of to say--really, instructions to his bloody house didn't have to be typed up, but-- Oh. Oh. The Raven had spoken to him? Told him to come here? He was luring the boy to an early demise. Tragic, really, Clarke supposes--he seems like a cute little thing. Foolish and utterly stupid, but adorable. And to leave him for the warlocks . . Clarke sighed irritably, handing the card back to the boy. "Keep it. And never go to that house." My house, of all things--sure, the blue paint is noticeable, but not bright azure-- Blue was his favourite colour. Clarke momentarily falters, staggering slightly as he's suddenly overwhelmed by the image of dark eyes, hands gripped in his jacket, arms around his body-- He remembers the blue stripe in his hair being pulled at teasingly, then a roar of laughter, and-- It's too much. Clarke almost fails to hear the boy's next words, but he snaps himself out of his reverie and answers just in time. "No, I'm not," he replies, then notices he might be coming off as a little bit rude. Oh. "Thank you for asking." A pause. "Did the Raven grant you . . . a wish?" Clarke will bet everything he has--which is nothing, really--that the answer is yes, and he just-- You can never replace him, he wants to scream at this cherub-faced, blinking boy before him, and, gods, he just wants to be left alone-- Of course life is never that kind. But . . . if the Raven had granted him a wish, then . . . was he to have a soul stone? He knows that after this battle, he will be hungry. But . . . Hey, are you new? It's a shame. This is a soul gem. It's what helps us defeat the baddies! He can't. You have to keep it with you, alright? And leave the battling up to me--don't drain yourself! He just can't. He blocks a vine slithering through the air, crawling towards them both, and, suddenly filled with anger at the memories that were never wanted, Clarke releases a sharp flash of bright blue, and immediately the vine begins to wither, twisting through the air in a kind of demented dance. Clarke watches as the rot begins to crawl up the entirety of the vine, pausing to catch his breath as the warlock screeched terribly, flailing around from the damage done to its appendages. "Listen," he says to the newcomer, as more vines are raised and ready to strike. He's significantly weakened from not having . . . not having him next to him, and there's only so much he can do against a fully developed warlock. "If you want to get out of here alive, then follow what I say, alright? You can save the questions for never." Share this post Link to post
Posted July 3, 2015 (edited) "Why did you type this?" "I didn't type it, silly!" Kanvar giggled gleefully as his grin widened. "My family can't afford a printer. I wrote everything on the index card." Despite the pain that still wracked his body, Kanvar mustered a carefree smile. He had always thought that happiness was contagious and, based on the way the other boy was holding himself, Kanvar knew the stranger needed to lighten up. Everything from his posture to the way his voice wavered told Kanvar that something was wrong. His eyes were fogged over with a distant look about them. What could possibly be troubling the stranger? Kanvar would assume it was the overgrown vines if not for the way the man seemed to be wistfully thinking about the past. Kanvar tapped his fingers together nervously, unsure as to how he could help the stranger feel better. After all, he was bleeding profusely and had just encountered a creature one would only find in stories or in their dreams. How exactly could Kanvar help this man? After staring at Kanvar for several minutes, the stranger handed the index card back, demanding that Kanvar never go to the house the instructions dictated him to find. Kanvar reluctantly took the index card back as a look of uncertainty flashed over his face. The Raven told him to go the house and he didn't want to disappoint the Raven but, a the same time, he was sure that the stranger had a reason to ward him away from the house. Were the more dangerous creatures like the vine monster at the house? If so, why did the bird want him to go there? If there wasn't anything wrong with it, why did the man want him to stay away? Surely they both had good reasons to advise him differently on the same matter. Kanvar looked up at the stranger, concern etched into his features. He wanted to ask why the man didn't want him to go to the house but, just as he was about to ask, the man suddenly asked if the Raven granted him a wish. Kanvar's face brightened almost instantly as he nodded vigorously. "Yes, siree!" the boy chimed merrily. "My brother got caught in a house fire and was burned real badly. The doctors said he wasn't going to make it so my family assumed the worst. I didn't give up on him though! The Raven came by and told me he could make my brother better if I did some work for him. That was about two days ago, I'd reckon! Gee sir, you seem to know a lot about this Raven fellow. You wouldn't happen to-" Kanvar was cut off as the man spun around, blocking an incoming vine. Kanvar yelped with surprise and pushed himself backwards, staring at the vine with wide eyes. A bright blue light emitted from the man's spear. It shot out towards the vine, causing the plant to suddenly wither away and rot. A horrid shriek filled the air and Kanvar pulled his knees close to his chest, covering his ears in the process. "Listen," the stranger began as he glanced over at Kanvar. "If you want to get out of here alive, then follow what I say, alright? You can save the questions for never." Kanvar looked up at the stranger in wonder. Stay alive? Where they in danger of being killed? Kanvar wasn't sure if that was exciting or absolutely terrifying. Probably both. "Okay, I'll do as you say!" Kanvar said as he picked himself up, wrapping an arm around his still bleeding chest. Recalling that the man had said he wasn't hurt, Kanvar quickly added, "Oh, I'm glad you're not hurt. These vines seem to be pretty big and dangerous. It's good you made it out unscathed." Edited July 4, 2015 by Doctortear Share this post Link to post
Posted July 4, 2015 He didn't type it? Clarke squinted--that was some neat handwriting, then. Already the boy's cheerful manner was getting on his nerves--how? How could he still afford to smile so carelessly in a situation like this? Feeling anger flare up inside of him, the black-haired male only shoots the other a glare, wanting to ward off his contagious happiness. His family couldn't afford . . . a printer? For a moment, Clarke hesitated--was the male badly off financially? Of course you'd prey on the needing. Clarke feels anger flare up inside of him at the Raven's secret craftiness, at how easily he seemed to manipulate humans. However, his storm of emotions is quickly replaced by bland nothingness, the same state of emotional desperation he'd been bundled up in for the last eight months. By now, it's an almost familiar friend. Grey eyes flicker across the other's body, assessing his injuries--the boy was bleeding from the various thorns embed across the vines, but Clarke knew they couldn't afford to escape right now, much less get the male medical attention. A pause, and Clarke grits his teeth together. Can he do it? Sharp eyes stare at the male before him, and Clarke wonders . . . He rolls his eyes when the boy takes the index card from him, a doubtful expression scattered across his face as he regarded the instructions carefully printed--written--on the index card. What, did he really want to visit his house or something? Clarke rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. Well, if he ever did stop by . . . there was no way Clarke would be greeting him. His father could simply escort the boy out--whatever the Raven wanted from their meeting, Clarke was determined to make sure the Raven did not get. "Listen," he says, "you seem like the type of"--he just manages to refrain from saying idiot--"person to listen to random talking animals on the street, which is why I'd advise you otherwise. Stay away from that house. And whatever the Raven wants you to do regarding any other magical transforming men you might run into, don't." At the boy's story, Clarke felt his headache increase tenfold. Of course. Of course. That sounds striking familiar, doesn't it? Wanting to save someone? Only you couldn't save anyone. He wants to break down crying at the perfect expression of childish innocence currently before him. "Glad your brother is well," he says, monotone as if he doesn't care either way--and do you? "Gee sir, you seem to know a lot about this Raven fellow." At this, Clarke sighs. Had he not been holding his spear, he's pretty sure he'd be trying to physically close the boy's mouth right about now. Before he can gather up enough energy to form a reply, he's feuding off the vine, all thoughts forgotten in the ongoing battle. Are you going to tell him? He doesn't have to know. "Okay. I'll do as you say!" The chirping cheerfulness of the boy was enough to give him a headache ten times over. Clarke withdraws his spear, slamming it down rather harshly on the floor before he remembers he could potentially shatter glass, plummeting them both to an early death. Well, he could probably gather up enough energy to land safely, but he wasn't too sure about the other . . . I'd catch him. Maybe. "Oh, I'm glad you're not hurt." What? How? "Of course not," he replies, shrugging off the boy's kind words as he adverts his gaze. "These vines seem to be pretty big and dangerous. It's good you made it out unscathed." "I've been going at this for a long time," is his reply, before Clarke shoots a wary glance back at the warlock. It seemed to be nursing its injured appendage, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And if Clarke had his back turned . . . Which means he needs to act fast. "Alright." Another sharp, anxious tap of the spear's end against the floor. "Did the Raven give you a gem? Explain anything about powers? Champions?" If not, he's going to personally throttle the bird the next chance he gets. Shouldn't be too hard, all things considered. He never thought he'd have to teach someone else this. It'd hurt if he wasn't so preoccupied with other things. ((omg i just saw the first post it's glorious i love it friend <33)) Share this post Link to post
Posted July 4, 2015 (edited) Worry washed over Kanvar's face as he glanced up anxiously at the man in front of him. His voice was completely monotone but annoyance flickered across his eyes as he spoke. His posture told Kanvar that the stranger was closed off. He looked calm and collected but Kanvar could see the mask he was wearing. Kanvar, who was well rehearsed in reading emotions, could not for the life of him figure out what was causing the man distress. Was it something Kanvar had said? Was the issue something the boy could not yet comprehend? Concern flooded Kanvar's mind as he bit his lip nervously. Whatever was wrong with the man, Kanvar only hoped he could help remove the facade the man covered himself with. It was unclear if the man was annoyed or apathetic towards Kanvar. For the most part he remained completely stoic. His voice did not waver and his eyes held no sign of joy nor contempt. At the same time, there were moments when his voice would crack. A sliver or disgust or irritation would creep through before he regained his composure and became monotone once more. The thought of being an annoyance was more despairing. Kanvar didn't want to trouble the man even more than he already did. Kanvar was beginning to feel as though he was just in the way. If he had found the house sooner, perhaps none of this would of happened. On the other hand, the man seemed very persistent on not letting Kanvar find the house or listen to the Raven. Why was that? Was there something Kanvar didn't know? Probably, but the man said no questions so Kanvar would have to keep his lips zipped until he could find the opportunity to inquiry about a few matters. Just as the Kanvar mustered the strength to stand up, the man turned around to inform Kanvar to not listen to the Raven especially on the subject of magical transforming men. Kanvar's expression turned to one of complete confusion as he tried to process the stranger's words. Magical transforming men? What on earth was he talking about? The Raven had only mentioned needing a favor to be returned. He didn't mention powers, Champions, or any of the other random words the stranger was throwing at Kanvar. The boy simply stared at the older boy in puzzlement as he blinked in disorientation. It was only when Kanvar caught the word "gem" did he feel any sense of relief. "Oh, yes, the nice raven gave me a gem!" Kanvar beamed as his eyes light up. He stuffed a hand into his pocket and pulled out a small stone around the size of his palm. The stone was a vivid yellow with swirls of a darker hue dancing around within it. "He didn't mention any of those other things he mentioned, but he did give me this gem!" Kanvar's wide grin momentarily twisted into a frown. "The Raven is a he, yes? I don't want to mess up any pronouns. I'm pretty bad at that." (I tried.) Edited July 4, 2015 by Doctortear Share this post Link to post
Posted July 7, 2015 God, by the way the boy was looking at him, it might have been that Clarke was speaking another language altogether. So the Raven had told him nothing . . . what a useless bird. Clarke rolled his eyes--the boy seemed utterly disorientated, but at least he'd managed to muster the strength to stand up. Good--they would be at an utter loss if the boy couldn't manage to even raise himself to his feet. He watched as the boy's face quickly contorted into a bright, relieved smile as soon as Clarke had formed the word 'gem'--ah, so he was completely useless. The Raven hadn't bothered to explain anything and simply handed him a gem? Gods, this boy was going to die an early, horrible death. He was the one who told you everything. Clarke ignores the voice that tells him he's not nearly as honourable as him, and instead stared at the gem snuggled in the boy's outstretched hand. Ah--yellow? Strange, his own was a dark blue with lighter lines running through it, like flashes of lightning. His was red. Vivid, burning, bright. Like fire and water. That doesn't end well, does it? Clarke is suddenly drawn out of his thoughts by the other's words--pronouns? The male paused, blinking--huh. "I've never thought of that, actually," he replied, allowing his voice to give to the slightest bit of curious wonder. "I've always assumed all the deities were genderless. Je--I just use the Raven. Bit of an old habit, really." It hurts every bit as much as he thought it would, and in his distraction the male shoots the boy an unwelcome glare--it's not his fault, it really isn't, but isn't he allowed to feel just the tiniest bit bitter?--and goes back to watching the warlock carefully for signs of attack. "Look," he says, voice crisp, distant. "If you want to live, transform. If not, I'll leave you here and that thing can eat you for lunch. I'll explain everything if we're still alive by the end of this." It occurs to Clarke that he doesn't know the boy's name--well, good. The less they know of each other, the better. He had no intention of playing along with the Raven's selfish games. Share this post Link to post
Posted July 7, 2015 (edited) So the Raven was genderless then? That was fine and dandy, all the power to the Raven, but that didn't really answer the question of what pronouns the Raven preferred. Was the Raven was they? Would xir work? Using it as a pronoun for a sentient being was rather jarring but it was possible for the Raven to use it. Concern flashed across Kanvar's face as the other boy stopped and pondered his question. Did he not know what pronouns the Raven preferred? Had he never bothered to ask or was the Raven very particular about who addressed them. Kanvar opened his mouth to inquire about another mother but quickly shut it as the other male shot an inhospitable glare in the younger boy's direction. Kanvar lowered his head, tapping his fingers together anxiously as he tried to fathom would he could of possibly done to warrant such a glare. He hadn't offended the older boy, had he? He didn't think he did but, then again, the stranger appeared to be in a bad mood. Maybe he wasn't keeping his emotions in check and was simply lashing out as a way to release whatever was bottled up in his heart. Either way, Kanvar couldn't help but think that he did something wrong, leaving a fog of uncertainty to cloud his mind. As Kanvar was wondering what he could of done to disturb the other male, the stranger suddenly spoke up. Kanvar perked up, eager to hear what the man had to say. The smile on his face twitched as he heard the stranger's foreboding words. "Transform?" Kanvar echoed as a feeling of dread washed over him. "What do you mean by transform? I have no idea how to even-" Before Kanvar could finish his sentence, one of the vines suddenly swung out towards him. He let out a yelp of surprised and leaped backwards, falling onto his back in the process. A swarm of vines rose from the rose garden, cutting Kanvar and the other boy apart. Kanvar tried to yell out for the stranger but found that his voice was lost amidst the chaos. Fear crawled through Kanvar's mind as he stared wide-eyed at the vines around him. They were surrounding him, completely blocking any possible escape route. He began to crawl backwards, facing his body towards the vine as he scrambled away from the nearest vine. His heart pounded madly in his chest and he began to gasp frantically. I'm going to die. There's no way out of this. A vine swerved forward and danced in the air before slamming down towards Kanvar. He let out a shriek of horror and huddled into a small ball, raising an arm to block the blow. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable crushing force of the vine. To his great surprise, it never came. After moments of waiting for his untimely demise, Kanvar blinked his eyes open. He looked up in astonishment to find a silver semi-translucent shield attached to his arm by some sort of band. He could clearly see the vine writhing upon the surface of the shield, desperately struggling to slam the shield into the ground. Kanvar's fast-paced breaths shortened as he tried to regain his composure. I'm not dead but what's...? Furrowing his brows, Kanvar lifted up his arm, gritting his teeth as he fought against the force of the vine. He flipped his arm around and slapped the vine away from the blunted edges of the shield. He could hear a hiss of annoyance fill the greenhouse as the vine retreated. Picking himself up, Kanvar glanced down at himself in confusion. His baggy clothing had vanished and was replaced with a set of knightly armor had covered his body instead. Is this what the other boy was talking about when he said transforming? Kanvar had no idea what was going on but he couldn't find any other explanation. Maybe when he wasn't being attacked by murderous vines, he could figure out exactly what was going on, Glancing nervously at the vines around him, Kanvar placed himself in a defensive stance, waiting for them to make their next more. (eeek, I hope this okay with you, Lady.) Edited July 14, 2015 by Doctortear Share this post Link to post
Posted July 10, 2015 all's good!! i like it omg kanvar my child <33 )) Was he still contemplating the issue of the Raven's personal pronouns? . . . Why does he care so much? Clarke doesn't understand. Through all his years, he's never once given the Raven and his doings any thought. To him, the Raven was a malevolent being who had lead him into this life of turmoil. The last person to trust the Raven . . . Look where he ended up. He's been in this line of business long enough to know that absolutely no one was to be trusted. You trusted once, did you not? I did not know it would hurt this much. He's just about to tell the boy to sharpen up and leave his musings for another time, when--- Damnit! Clarke jumps back just as walls of vines erupt from below, snaking their way through the the glass. So this was what it was planning! The dark-haired male cast a glance towards the warlock, gritting his teeth--this was not good, not good! Due to the intensity of the vines and the fact they seemed to surge after him, completely blocking him from being able to access the boy, Clarke was forced to retreat back. He grimaced as he felt whips hit him from all sides, a particularly bad lash in the centre of his spine forcing him down onto his knees. Grimacing, the boy clutched his spear tight. Where are you? I need you. I can't . . . feel you anymore. I can't . . . feel myself anymore . . . ? Where is the power? Give it to me. Give it to me. Consume me. He summons what little power he can feel coursing through his veins in one desperate, urgent flash of blue, and immediately the vines surrounding him wither, falling limply off to the side. Exhausted, Clarke pulls himself to his feet-- The end result was even worse than he had imagined. He's succeeded only in blasting away the vines surrounding him, and there are quickly ones anew come to harm his being. Clarke readies his spear--he'll have to rely on brute force. He's already used up enough of his power--gods, imagining what he would have to eat after this in order to regain his energy . . . He'll have to go hunting. Internally, he curses as sharp eyes flicker over to the site where the other boy had been moments ago--there's no way he's going to make it over there in time with all these vines trying to attack him, and he can only . . . Is this another person you've failed to protect? I'm not saviour. I can't save anyone. Is he . . . dead? A sudden burst of light erupts from the cage of vines, and the force is so great that it stops the vines and Clarke entirely. A smile creeps its way onto the male's usually stoic face, remaining there for just a second before it's gone again. Good job, kid. You've just signed your death warrant. He turns, slicing off a vine that was sneaking up on him. So what was it? How would this story play out? The same as all the others. You were . . . So close. Share this post Link to post
Posted July 14, 2015 The vines began circling Kanvar, swishing to and fro absentmindedly as the boy stared up at them with wide eyes tinged with fear. He pressed the shield close to his body as he frantically looked from one vine to another. No matter where he looked, he couldn't locate an opening between the vines. They were closely gathered together to make sure there was no where Kanvar could escape. If one of the vines moved away from its original position long enough, Kanvar could probably slip through the circle and hightail out of the greenhouse, but such a dastardly escape would require him to dodge any incoming vines and he had absolutely no idea how to do that. He had a set of armor and a fancy looking shield, but he had no idea how to use them! The other boy seemed to know what was going on but the vines had separated the two before Kanvar could ask. Alarm suddenly shot through Kanvar as he remembered the other boy. Was he okay? Had the vines hurt him? Kanvar had heard vines being sliced a little ways away, but he had no idea knowing what had become of the older boy. Was there a way for Kanvar to make his way towards the stranger without getting killed? The boy glanced at the vines, gulping as he licked his lips nervously. There was only one way for him to get out and it wasn't going to be fun. Out of the corner of his eye, Kanvar saw one of the vines suddenly lash out, swinging towards his general direction. Instinct propelled Kanvar to twist his body towards the vine and raise his shield just in time to block the vine's incoming attack. Surprise filled Kanvar as the vine lashed furiously against his shield. It was though he had some innate understanding on how to use the shield but that couldn't possibly be right. He had never used a shield before in his entire life. Heck, he hadn't even seen a shield before. How on earth did he know how to use one? Before he could gather his thoughts, another vine came swerving towards him. Kanvar pivoted towards the vine and braced himself as the vine sped towards him. He gritted his teeth at the sudden impact, squinting his eyes as he felt himself forcefully pushed backwards. His feet dug into the earth as the vine pressed its weight against the shield. Glaring at the vine, Kanvar let out a roar of frustration as he yanked his shield backwards and flung it at the vine in a frisbee-like fashion. It took him only moments for him to realize his mistake. He had thrown his only means of defense away and had left himself at the disposal of the vines around him. He stood still for several seconds, completely dumbfounded as the realization dawned on him. He glanced up only to find that the shield had flown out of sight. Had he just signed his own death warrant? Wonderful. Letting out a yelp of terror, Kanvar sprinted towards the new opening between the vines as whatever ungodly beast that controlled the vines tried to figure out what had just happened. Kanvar sprinted down the maze of beautiful roses that had, ironically, stayed just as magnificent as they were when he had first arrived. His breath quickened as he skirted down a corner, glancing behind him as he tried to locate the vines. How had he gotten himself into this mess? Was this even real? How could be sure he wasn't dreaming? Gods, he hoped this was a dream. He'd hate for this nightmare to be a reality. Just as Kanvar was making another sharp turn down a corner, he found himself face to face with one of the vines. He let out a cry of dismay and scrambled backwards as he turned towards the way he came. Another vine appeared in front of him, lashing dangerously close towards him. Kanvar began to gasp frantically as he slowly backed into the corner, desperately grasping the maze with his hands. The vines inched closer towards Kanvar and the boy could feel hope drain from his body. Was this it? Was this how he was going to die? He was too young, he had so much left to do! He still had to help tutor Garret and help Armin get with that girl he liked. Who would mom hold for comfort when she cried from prying eyes? Who would be Asher's "little wing-man" as he called Kanvar. What about helping Marian find a good college? Who would do that? What about all those projects and papers Kanvar still had to turn in? Was everything just going to be whisked away in a single blow? Kanvar wasn't ready for death, not yet at the least. Kanvar slide down onto the ground, watching with wide eyes as the vines moved closer, ready to end him once and for all. Before the vines could take the boy's life, a hideous shriek suddenly filled the greenhouse. The vines halted their advance and suddenly spun around as the screaming continued. Flames erupted all around the maze and began galloping from one vine to another. The shrieks grew in volume as the fires grew. Curious, but still in shaking from his near death experience, Kanvar steadily got to his feet and looked around for the source of the flames. In just mere moments, he caught sight of his shield, rotating through the air as flames covered its surface. When did the shield catch on fire? Where could it even had catched fire? More importantly, was it turning towards Kanvar? As the small boy watched, the shield suddenly made a sharp curve and began heading straight towards Kanvar. The boy froze, completely petrified as the shield made its way towards him. Was he supposed to move? Should he stay still? Should he run? It was his shield, his own line of defense, but it was also on fire. Last Kanvar checked, he wasn't fireproof. As he internally debated with himself, the shield suddenly got too close for him to move. He squealed as the shield suddenly latched onto his arm, extinguishing itself as it latched back onto his bracer. He flinched, taking several steps back as he tried to process what had just happened. "What...?" Kanvar asked himself softly as he looked down at his shield. The fire was no longer on the shield, but the maze was completely covered in flames. Kanvar could feel the heat radiating from the galloping blaze already. As shaken and confused as he was, Kanvar had enough sense to know he had to get away from the fire. The horrific shrieking had not been silenced. If anything, it had grown in volume since Kanvar got his shield back. Not understanding what was going on, but sure as hell not going to stand around and do nothing, Kanvar took a deep breath and leaped over one of the fallen vines, rushing down the maze as he tried to find a way out. Share this post Link to post
Posted July 23, 2015 Clarke grimaced--a year ago, this warlock would've been nothing. A year ago, you had everything. It was almost sad, in a way, how he was--almost--overwhelmed now. The vines seemed to be focused on swarming around him, trying to get past the defence of his spear-- Defence was never your strong suit. (He's so used to having someone watching his back at all times. Growing up is sad, isn't it?) He whirls his weapon around with practised efficiency, illuminating his closed off corner of vines with bright blue flashes as the vines shriek with fury. As soon as he defeats one, two more take its place. Like a hydra. A giant monster, ready to swallow him whole. But . . . He does not mind death. His movements are growing increasingly sluggish, and Clarke knows this-- I was as sharp as a blade once. But . . . What good is a blade without a owner? A driving force? I have nothing left. Truly, he does not mind death. His parents . . . they are happy. His father is chasing his dreams, his mother at home with her darling daughter. His sister . . . she's making friends at school, she goes shopping, grows, giggles, laughs-- To them, he is nothing but the silent one who came home one day and locked himself in his room, never to come out. He's a stranger. (You owe me everything.) What if I just disappeared? No one would ever notice. A lifetime ago, he had someone who would realise when he was hurting. Someone he could depend on, someone who made everything go away-- I need you. He doesn't feel he can breathe, much less fight properly, and--damn, he has really gotten weak-- He supposes that's what comes from doing nothing for eight months, subsiding on only the bare essentials. I thought I would fade away. (I want to fade away.) He gives a frustrated yell, pushing back a wall of vines with a sharp blue flash--he watches as the vines shriek, an inhuman noise, as rot slowly crawls down their entwined, writhing bodies, and as one giant landform they collapse, and he sees the sun for the faintest second before-- Vines instantly replace the ones fallen, hurtling at him with impossible speeds. Clarke grimaces as they slice into him, his spear useless as one wraps quite tightly around his right arm, and the other yanks quite firmly at his left, holding flimsily onto his spear. He feels vines crawl up his leg and he kicks about, stomping down on intruding vines. A momentary flash of fear washes through his mind, and-- I'm going to die here. He doesn't know how to feel. Glad? Relieved? Sad--? Suddenly, a shriek of volumes he hadn't known possible fill the air, various voices pitching together to form a horrible melody. Clarke winces, clutching his head as he feels the vines suddenly retreat--he drops to his knees, tightly grabbing his spear-- You've failed. You're weak. You couldn't even . . . you couldn't even--die--? When he opens his eyes, he gaps. The maze is on fire. How . . . how is this possible? How could someone have . . . so much power? Memories wash over him, and-- Jet was always the stronger one. But . . . fire? What was this? He knows he has to get out, but he's frozen. Frozen in the maze as it begins crumbling down, pretty roses falling down onto rubble as the warlock thrashes about, bringing down the greenhouse around them. Glass falls in large, chipped pieces, shattering onto the ground as the shrieking grows in volume. Clarke snaps to his senses as he sees something rush past--the boy! "Oi!" he shouts, still from his position on one of the perched ledges of the greenhouse. It's not going to hold for much longer--he can feel the heat from all around, the ground trembling beneath his feet. He'll have to apologise for his rudeness later, but he doesn't even know the boy's name and frankly he couldn't care less-- The gem. He has to bring the warlock's gem to the Raven. "Look," he says, shouting to be heard over the noise. It helps that they're at least somewhat close, and Clarke thanks the gods--if the boy had been on the other side of the maze, he doesn't know what he would have done. "In a moment, I'm going to do something. Don't, I repeat, don't follow me. Once I have it, I'm going to throw a stone at you. Take the thing and run, got it? This place isn't going to hold for much longer, and the Raven needs it." Hoping the boy caught either his words or frantic hand gestures, spear included, Clarke takes a deep breath. The fire is crawling up the warlock's arms, but he has time--he's more worried about the state of the maze. It wasn't going to hold for much longer, and he hopes it won't just break completely--as long as the warlock is still standing, the maze should be too, right? Without giving himself to doubt his actions or secondguess his plan, Clarke takes a deep breath and stabs his spear into the nearby vine, one of the thicker ones that had yet to catch fire. The thing shrieks as he hops on, feeling as if he's going to slip off any second--but that's just what he needs. He pulls his spear from the vine's flesh-like insides and jumps off just as the thing slams into the top of the greenhouse, shattering planes of glass, and Clarke dives deep into the core of the warlock. He lands unsteadily, nearly falling off--but with his spear acting as stable footing, he looks around. The warlock is an ugly thing, with a large, gaping maw reminiscent of a venus flytrap surrounded by fanning folds of flesh like rose petals, and-- Where is the gem? He doesn't have much time. Immediately, he starts looking. 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Posted August 3, 2015 (edited) The ungodly chorus of shrieking merged into a horrible melody that filled every corner of the labyrinth. Kanvar, who couldn't bear to hear the mingling abominable cries, had sunk to his knees and covered his ears. He could feel his heart throbbing through his ears. Tears stung the edge of his vision as he lowered his head down between his knees. The sheer volume of the screaming was enough to hurt Kanvar's ears but the strange inhuman quality it possessed furthered Kanvar's distress. He couldn't bear to listen to the screeching any longer. How had he even gotten himself into this situation? He just wanted to find the pretty blue house the Raven told him about. Was that so wrong? What had he done to deserve such a fate? A cry in the distance caught Kanvar's attention. From within the chorus of screams was a voice, one that Kanvar recognized. The boy! The grouchy taller boy from earlier was trying to speak to Kanvar! Kanvar followed his hands and raised his head as he made out the voice. He desperately wanted to inquire if the boy was okay, but was cut off just as he was about to speak. "Look, in a moment, I'm going to do something. Don't, I repeat, don't follow me. Once I have it, I'm going to throw a stone at you. Take the thing and run, got it? This place isn't going to hold for much longer, and the Raven needs it." "What?" Kanvar yelled in response as he stood himself up. Out of the corner of his eye, Kanvar saw the stranger, who had been making hand gestures as he spoke, leap into a wall of flames without a moment of hesitation. "Wait!" Kanvar called as he ran towards the boy. "What are you-" The sound of cracking glass caught Kanvar's attention. Feeling something underneath his foot, he took a step back to reveal a green stone beneath his feet. Crouching down, Kanvar scooped up the peculiar stone and began to examine it. It was quite hefty and was around the size of Kanvar's hand. The stone was a deep forest green with swirls of emerald coursing for it. The oval stone was dim, as though it used to be brilliant but lost its luster. Its surface was cracked horribly as though someone had taken the stone and smashed it against a wall repeatedly. Looking at it made Kanvar a little said. It must have been so beautiful before it became cracked. Stepping on the stone had probably added to the collection of cracks but there was no way Kanvar had broken the stone so badly. Who had damaged the stone and why? What could possibly bring someone to decimate something so beautiful? Realizing that the other boy mentioned a stone, Kanvar sprinted over to where the other boy had disappeared. "Is this the stone you were talking about?" Kanvar shouted as he waved the stone in the air in an attempt to show it to the other boy. Edited August 3, 2015 by Doctortear Share this post Link to post
Posted August 11, 2015 Clarke grimaced as he felt a thorn slice into his side, the warlock quite insistent in its destruction of anyone who dared to penetrate past its defenses. The male gripped his spear, slashing it across another couple of vines that dared to streak towards him, dirtied black hair falling between his eyes. The stone. Where was it? Have I failed? My first battle in eight months. I've . . . let you down. Is this why . . . you are no longer here? Was it my fault? Clouded thoughts thunder through his brain, the beginnings of a migraine picking up quickly. Maybe I'll die here. It wouldn't be so bad, would it? The Raven would no longer have anyone to command around. As for that new boy . . . ? Pain spikes in the back of his eyes, and Clarke groans. He jumps out of the way of a stray vine, shrieking as it passes his side, completely cloaked in the flames. Pausing, Clarke watches as the vine shifts about, rummaging through the insides as the warlock's shrieks grow even worse-- It's being burnt alive. Something tears at his insides, because he-- Who are you? This unnamed warlock, this warlock who was burning alive . . . Is this the fate of all warlocks? He can't let that happen. The glass house is falling to pieces, panels dislodging and shattering upon impact. Stray glass shards fly up, and they are caught in the flames. This is . . . massacre. Where was the stone? I'm running out of time. A vine sneaks past his defenses, his flimsy spear not much when it came to blocking attacks. Just as Clarke stabs his weapon into the vine's side, it wraps around his arm and tugs, and white flashes before his eyes as searing hot pain tears into his side. He screams, as it is only a natural response when it feels like his arm is about to be torn off-- Winded, Clarke staggers, reaching a hand out to steady himself. He touches the sticky insides of the warlock, and Clarke immediately retreats in disgust-- His calm demeanor is all but lost now, and he has--he has to run-- A voice breaks through his illusion, his haze of pain and panic. The boy--! What an idiot. We're both going to die. He looks up, squinting as he makes out the form of the boy, mouth open in a shout with his arm raised, waving something in the air, and-- What? Could it be . . . ? Though cracked and destroyed, the gem is still beautiful. It catches the reflection of the fire, the destruction all around, and seals the massacre within its cracked insides, the lines running across what would otherwise be a beautiful emerald gem. How . . . ? Clarke knows he has no time to waste. He waits for his chance, grimacing--and through some miracle and a stray vine, manages to make his way back to the top of the warlock, clumsily sliding down towards the other boy. His spear is gripped in one hand, loosely bouncing about, and-- He feels like a failure. Immediately, he runs towards the boy. Without sparing the other a second glance--his head is pounding and his shoulder hurts and nothing feels the same without his partner-- I miss you. I miss you. I miss you ImissyouImissyou-- "Run!" he shouts to the other, just as the house is about to collapse completely-- He can see the glowing light of the exit, a welcoming haven through all of this destruction-- They burst through, and the sun bathes him in its warm light as all the fight suddenly goes out of him. Clarke collapses onto the pavement with a violent shudder, gasping. Fighting alone . . . It was harder than he had ever imagined. Tired eyes glance up, and Clarke watches the other boy through the corner of his eye with a wary gaze. Share this post Link to post
Posted August 11, 2015 The trembling smile plastered on Kanvar's face only continued to falter as the young boy desperately tried to locate the stranger that dove into the flames. His round blue eyes glanced around nervously as he swallowed involuntarily. Had he lost the other boy? Did the vines get him? What of the flames? Was Kanvar too slow? None of the thoughts that poured into Kanvar's mind pleased him and did little to help him overcome the growing sense of dread that slowly clouding his mind. It wasn't until Kanvar saw a head topped with black hair pop up did his fears finally stop expanding. As soon as he saw the other boy, Kanvar let out a wild grin and waved his free hand enthusiastically. "Over here!" he called loudly as he waved the green stone proudly in the air. Unfortunately for Kanvar, the other boy wasn't the only one who had seen his little display. Almost as soon as the other boy began his ascend up the strange plant creature that laid at the center labyrinth, the vines had caught sight of Kanvar once more. Even though the entire maze was consumed with a galloping blaze and glass was falling from the ceiling and shattering across the ground, the vines headed straight towards the blond, not caring what obstacles were in their way. Kanvar let out a high-pitches shriek and leaped out of the way of an incoming vine. The vine lurched itself into the flames, arousing another chorus of screams from the plant beast hovering above. Another vine surged towards Kanvar. The boy managed to lift his shield just in time to reflect the vine's blow. He smashed his shield against the writhing vine and sent it spiraling into the flames that greedily consumed it whole. "Run!" Breathing heavily, Kanvar snapped his head around just as the other boy screamed at him to move. Kanvar stared at the taller boy with wide eyes just as chunk of glass came crashing down next to him, causing Kanvar to leap up with a scream. "G-Got it!" the blond called as he quickly picked himself up and raced after the other boy. The plant beast's screams went silent just as the vines crumbled up into the flames and went still. The glass dome around the once beautiful maze began collapsing on itself. Shards of glass fell from the sky like rain and shattered across the burning ground as the inferno overtook the garden of roses. Kanvar raced after the other boy, keeping at his heel as the two rushed towards the light at the end of the maze. The fire was becoming unbearable but the light beckoned. The two leaped out of the dome and onto into the alley they were in just before they had entered the dome. Sunlight bathed their skin as the dome vanished from sight and all Kanvar could see was the buzzing city he grew up in. The other boy fell to his knees and laid down on the ground as soon as the dome disappeared with a leery look in his eyes. Kanvar, unable to believe the events that just transpired, flopped down onto his fear and gasped breathlessly as he tried to take in everything he had experienced. "I don't know what just happened," he began, gasping for breath. "but I don't want to do it again." Flopping down on his back, Kanvar quickly added, "At least, not until after I had a nap." Share this post Link to post
Posted August 11, 2015 He feels like crying. It's . . . over? The street is quiet. Frighteningly silent, almost too normal, and Clarke wants to scream. It feels as if what just happened was not real, and the black-haired male can't accept that, not when his entire world is shattering to pieces-- He can't do this. His breath comes in quick little gasps, his palms digging into the cement, and his shoulder hurts and-- I just want everything to be okay again. He's pulled from his despairing trance by the other boy, who sinks down as well. "I don't know what just happened." You don't want to know. "But I don't want to do it again." And you think I do? He watches as the other suddenly flops onto his back, sighing. "At least, not until after I had a nap." A nap . . . ? The thought is so ridiculous that it brings the slightest bit of a smile onto Clarke's features, only for the emotion to be quickly disapproved by his wandering mind. The male suddenly realises that he doesn't even know the other's name--which is . . . good, he supposes? If the Raven thinks he's to forget him so easily and move on, then the Raven is wrong. He refuses to let the disgusting avian win--after all, isn't everything the Raven's fault?--and he will not forget him. Nor work with this seemingly foolish boy, who seems more preoccupied with making everyone happy rather than self-survival. Well, that's not going to last long. If he could, Clarke would pity the other. "We have to get going," he says instead. "You're going to see a lot more warlocks in the future." He brings himself shakily up to his feet, retreating his spear with a flash of blue now that he has more control over himself and his actions. Turning towards the other with a wince, Clarke holds out his hand. "The gem, please. The Raven will be expecting it." His voice is crisp, clear and distant, and he wants nothing more to do with the other. Then again, he can't exactly send him away, but the last thing Clarke wants to do is lead the other to his house. Speaking of which . . . the Raven would probably be waiting, as the bird had given the other bloody locations to Clarke's house. Just thinking of how much he would have to explain later, as well as the many battles that would transpire after this day . . . his headache doesn't lessen. Share this post Link to post
Posted August 11, 2015 (edited) "We have to get going. You're going to see a lot more warlocks in the future." Warlocks? Opening his eyes, Kanvar pushed himself into a sitting position and cocked his head curiously at the other boy. Every since they met, the boy had been throwing around strange phrases and words that Kanvar didn't know. Just as Kanvar was about to ask what a warlock was, he shut his mouth as a memory came forth. The boy told Kanvar not to ask any questions. As much as Kanvar wanted to inquire about warlocks and the nonsense with the garden that had just happened, he decided to respect the stranger's wishes and keep his questions to himself. Dumbfounded by the circumstances, Kanvar sighed audibly as the other boy stood up. Amazing, the staff the boy was carrying disappeared in a brilliantly flash of blue. Kanvar stared in wide-eye awe as the stoic boy turned around to face Kanvar, wincing in the process. Kanvar's immediate reaction was to reach forward and assist the other boy, but, sadly, Kanvar soon found himself flinching as pain shot through his body. He attempted to stand up but rocked back down onto his bottom as a hot flash of pain soared through his veins. Quickly checking himself, Kanvar felt a wave of relief wash over him as he realized that he wasn't majorly hurt. Just a few bruises and scrapes that hurt more than they were worth. But still, how was he supposed to help the other boy when he was hurt himself? "The gem, please. The Raven will be expecting it." "The gem?" Kanvar echoed as he stared at the other boy with a confused look. It took Kanvar a moment to realize just what the other boy meant. "Oh!" Kanvar exclaimed as dug through his pocket to procure the stone. "You mean this right?" The cracked emerald-like stone was even more beautiful when exposed to the sunlight. It glittered in the light as extravagant hues swirled through its green body. It was no wonder why the other boy wanted the stone; it was utterly magnificent. Handing the stone to the other boy, Kanvar stood himself up, letting out a grunt of pain in the process. "If you can spare me one question," Kanvar began, wondering if he could get away with a simply inquiry unrelated to the plant monster. "I just realized we don't even know each other's names. I'm Kanvar! What's your name?" Even though he wasn't exactly sure how the other boy would reply, Kanvar offered him a lopsided grin in hopes that, after seeing Kanvar's smile, the other boy would lighten up a bit. Edited August 11, 2015 by Doctortear Share this post Link to post
Posted August 11, 2015 Clarke nodded his thanks, closing his hand firmly around the gem as he gazed at it. Is this . . . what yours looks like now? The gems were supposed to be a symbol of life. A beautiful stone representing the blessing of live, of being alive with every single breath. Only . . . They were so, so delicately fragile. So breakable. His own gem is perfectly intact, a dark, glowing blue, but . . . It's breaking, isn't it? Even if it's not on the outside. His gem is slowly being destroyed with every breath he takes, the air drowning out his chance of survival. He feels as if he's swimming, desperately trying to keep his head afloat, and he wants nothing more than to hole himself up in his room for another eight months, another year, an eternity-- "iIf you can spare me one question," the other boy began, and Clarke looked up, blinking. Momentarily, the black-haired boy was surprised--what? Spare him a question? What was he going on about? He suddenly remembers back to when they first met, when he still felt as if every breath was a struggle and he wanted to rip the other apart from thinking he could replace him-- Ah. He had told the other not to ask any questions, right? Clarke fully expected him to forget that in the face of danger, but . . . He's remembered? It feels . . . nice . . . ? That he's finally listened to? That no one ever hears what he has to say apart from one person and now that person is gone-- "I just realized we don't even know each other's names. I'm Kanvar! What's your name?" And he suddenly feels as if someone has knocked him straight in the chest, for Clarke realises that this newcomer--Kanvar was his name, right?--is curious, just as he had been all those years ago, just as he was-- He's been nothing but rude to Kanvar, and even so-- That person . . . He loved . . . He loved Clarke, right? But . . . I'm not him. I'm . . . sad. Too sad. "My name," he chokes out, before pausing and clearing his throat, taking in a deep breath to steady his trembling thoughts. "That was a close one." A carefree laugh, a wink that leaves him breathless. "Name's Jett. And you?" "is Clarke," he finishes, well aware that his speech is awkwardly paused and he must seem strange to Kanvar, who wears nothing but cheerful curiosity on his features. He watches as the boy's features curve up into a smile, one that quickens his breath, and this scene seems eerily familiar and-- I don't want to repeat it. I can't repeat it. He tucks the gem within the folds of his coat. "You should get going," he says to the other, giving himself a shake to stir himself out of such upsetting thoughts. "Don't check yourself into the hospital. If you can't provide an explanation, they'll be suspicious." "Are you hurt?" Concerned eyes. "You can tell me, you know. Fighting warlocks isn't easy." Clarke momentarily falters, before he reaches into the pocket of his coat once again. He was originally saving this for himself, and his shoulder drums in its socket with agonizing pain, but Clarke remembers a box underneath his bed full of memories and life. And as for Kanvar . . . He has nothing, and tomorrow's a school day. He wonders if the boy does go to school--and if so, where? Clarke himself has never paid close attention, and he's only returned after eight months of absence. There's a high chance he'll have to repeat some classes, but he can't be bothered to give a damn. "Instead," he says, and then withdraws a sparkling pink gem--from who? Who were you before? "Eat this." He throws the gem at Kanvar, turning before he can see whether the boy caught it or not. "See you around." "I've seen you around school. You don't have many friends, do you?" A laugh at his flustered explanation. "Here--take this. Bruises are awful, and people get concerned." His thanks. "Hey, wanna hang out after this? We can go grab some food and discuss things other than deadly monsters possibly committing genocide." Share this post Link to post
Posted August 11, 2015 (edited) "My name is Clarke." Kanvar felt a tug on his smile but didn't dare to frown at Clarke's wavering voice. From the moment they met, Kanvar noticed just how absentminded Clarke was. It was though he was daydreaming and everything he saying was an afterthought. His awkward pauses indicated that his mind was elsewhere. Kanvar couldn't tell what was distracting Clarke, after all, they had just met. Kanvar rubbed his hands together worriedly as Clarke's breath quickened. Did Kanvar do something to upset Clarke? Was he bringing back bad memories? The blond couldn't tell exactly what he had done to make Clarke so cold. Perhaps Clarke was normally stoic and just having a bad day. Maybe Kanvar was reading too much into the stranger's expression. The uncertainty floating through Kanvar's mind didn't help to calm his nerves; however, no matter how uneasy Kanvar was, he didn't let his discomfort show for a moment and continued to smile on as he thought a smile was what Clarke needed. "You should get going." "O-Oh," Kanvar said as he unknowingly let his shoulders droop. He was hoping to get to know Clarke a little better. After all, he had so many questions to ask! His head was nearly spinning with all the information he was trying to process. "Don't check yourself into the hospital. If you can't provide an explanation, they'll be suspicious." "I'm sorry?" Kanvar asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as he looked at Clarke inquisitively. Noting that Clarke's injury, especially the weird position of his shoulder, Kanvar quickly added, "You should yourself looked at! It looks like you dislocated your shoulder or something. I probably couldn't help, but, if you want, I could bring one of my brothers or my sister here! They know how to-" "Instead, eat this." Kanvar cut himself off as Clarke, after a moment of musing, snatched a pink stone from his pocket and threw it at Kanvar, turning his head away at the last moment. Kanvar let out a small gasp of surprise as he fumbled his hands through the air trying to catch the gem. His hands brushed against the stone and Kanvar firmly grasped the pretty rock, letting out a sigh of relief as he did so. "See you around." "Huh?" Kanvar looked up to see Clarke turning his back on Kanvar and running off into the distance. "Wait! What am I suppose to do with this?" Kanvar called to the tall boy as he sprinted away. Alas, his cry was unheard and soon Clarke had disappeared out of sight. Blinking in bewilderment, Kanvar glanced down at gem in his hands. It was rather small, much smaller than the brilliant green stone Kanvar had found earlier. It was pretty, but not striking. It was tinted a muted pink whose mere presence soothed Kanvar. Soft strands of white curled across the stone's surface and added to the aesthetic. "I'm supposed to eat this?" Kanvar asked himself as he looked at the stone doubtfully. "Won't this hurt my teeth?" Although Kanvar wasn't keen to take a bite out of a rock, he had just fought a plant monster in a garden of giant roses so an edible stone probably wasn't the strangest thing in the world. Shrugging nonchalantly, Kanvar brought the stone up to his mouth and took a tentative bite out of it. Almost immediately the stone's glassy surface shattered in his mouth and a warm rejuvenating liquid burst forth. Kanvar was unprepared for the sugary taste of sweet pink lemonade to fill his mouth. He let out a grunt of surprise as he pulled the stone away from this mouth and licked his lips. Not only was the liquid oddly refreshing, it was awfully good as well. It was like popping a piece of expensive candy into his mouth. Eating the stone made Kanvar feel better and he wasn't exactly sure how. Shoving the rest of the stone into his mouth, Kanvar savored the wonderful taste before licking the juice off his lips. "I'm going to get juice all over my shirt," Kanvar pouted as he tried to wipe the sticky juice off of his clothing. It was only after he had finished wiping did Kanvar realize that both his suit of armor and shield had disappeared. He paused himself for several moments, wondering where on earth they went. However, after remembering the events earlier in the day, Kanvar gave a reluctant shrug and shook his head. "I think I might need to take an aspirin when I get home," Kanvar mumbled to himself as he rubbed his head. "Now, how am I supposed to get home?" Edited August 11, 2015 by Doctortear Share this post Link to post
Posted August 11, 2015 :: timeskipping :: On the way to school, Clarke takes his time by kicking up rocks. The male watches as stones skid across the road in little skips, before coming to a stop. After returning home last night--brushing off his absence with a few muttered words and the concerned eyes of his mother--he had a meal of stones, refusing to allow his mind to wander as he bit into a cream-coloured stone that tasted a little like frosting, and retired for the night without much to think about. On his way to bed, he passed by a photo that was tilted down, the picture firmly pressed onto his nightstand. He doesn't want to see, not after he's spent the better half of eight months wishing for another future. "You have a camera? Why don't you use it?" A shrug. "Let's take a picture." Why . . . ? "It'll be great. We can sneak into the shop after hours to print it, too." I'll go along with anything you want to do. The day had come all too suddenly, and though his shoulder has healed with impossible swiftness, there's a certain emptiness in bones as he leaves the house in the early morning, walking down a lonely road. The road is somehow simultaneously too long and too short. His feet scuffle on the pavement, and he drags himself forwards. Another day of classes. What was the point of it all? He knew he didn't have much hope left--was there anything there to start with?--and it was only making him finicky, being forced to sit through classes he didn't understand. He decides, probably against better judgement, to skip fourth period--he knew the school would call his parents, but ever since Jett's mysterious 'disappearance' they've been giving him nothing but hopeless, pitiful looks, as if they've given up around the same time he did. So he settles for taking a walk, looking around the courtyard. The sun beats down on yet another day, heating up the back of his shirt, and Clarke settles for leaning against a tree. Closing his eyes, he slid down to sitting position and let himself be momentarily lost within the day, his things scattered around him. He's brought back to sudden reality by the ringing of a bell, three chimes signalling the end of the day. Clarke jumps, disgruntled at being so rudely pulled from his imagination, and he's aware he should get out of the courtyard before the entire student population starts filtering out of school-- A caw makes his blood turn to ice, freezing his insides, and Clarke turns to see black feathers. That was a good meal yesterday, the Raven tells him, its black eyes unblinking. "Wouldn't you know," he mutters in response, before running a hand through his hair. "What do you want?" I want to meet the boy. Kanvar is his name, isn't it? "Not my problem." A shrug of the shoulders. He's your partner. "I don't have a partner." Instantly, Clarke is on guard. Shoulders hunched, the male sends his best glare the bird's way, known to fell many a wondering mind. Find him, won't you? There's a certain desperation in his glance, and both Clarke and the Raven know they are not on equal ground. Despite his objections, Clarke knows that, ultimately, he will have to obey the avian deity. And so it is how he ends up wandering mindlessly around school grounds, a bird flapping above his head. To the unaware eye, he would seem merely a student passing time by wandering around, bag slung over his shoulder. And yet . . . Kanvar went to this school? Huh. He would've never expected, having never seen the blond around. Then again, he has been missing for eight months, give or take. Clear eyes scan the various students gathered around, and Clarke wonders. It'd be nice of you to give me some pointers, he internally complains, glancing up at the bird. Share this post Link to post
Posted August 12, 2015 "Okay, but a pineapple has the whole spiky edge biz going on. Clearly it would have an advantage in a fight." "If you're going to assess the durability of a spiky fruit against a heavy one, you should go with a durian not a pineapple." "The hell is a durian?" Two nearly identical boys strode out of the school chattering nonsensically about which fruit would win in a fight if they became sentient. Had it not been for their facial expressions and clothing, the twins would be nearly indistinguishable from one another. Kanvar was grinning merrily at his brother who had a disbelieving look on his face. "Where did you even hear about durians?" Armin asked as he yanked at a slipping backpack strap. "I have my sources," Kanvar retorted with a giddy look. "Oh hush you," Armin barked as he lightly punched Kanvar's shoulder. The older boy laughed heartily as he rubbed the area Armin punched. Seeing as his injuries had magically disappeared by the time he got home, Kanvar, thankfully, didn't have to fabricate some lie as to why he was out so late. Making up a lie probably wouldn't have been hard but living with the knowledge that he had did so would be more than Kanvar could bear. As soon as Clarke left Kanvar standing in the alleyway, all he could think of was what on earth had just happened. Clarke hadn't told him anything that made any logical sense before rushing off. Was the rose maze just a bad dream? Had Kanvar truly been in a burning glass dome with his life at risk just yesterday? The scenario was hard to believe and, unless something made him think otherwise, he was beginning to feel as though the entire situation was a vivid fabrication of his imagination. "I still think a pineapple would beat a coconut in a fight," Armin said, cutting off Kanvar's thoughts. The blond grinned at his brother's prodding. "You do not know your fruits as well a I, brother," Kanvar replied in a dramatic tone. "For you see, I have spent years studying the way of fruit." "Shut up, dork," Armin chuckled as he rolled his eyes at Kanvar's speech. The twins smiled at one another and continued their little discussion about fruit as they descended down the stairs leading up the school. Looking up, Kanvar caught sight of someone he wouldn't think to see again so soon. For a moment, he hesitated as he stared at the black-haired boy. It couldn't be Clarke, could it? However, as the twins got closer, Kanvar could confirm the tall figure was indeed Clarke. "Ooh, there's a guy a met yesterday!" Kanvar exclaimed as he grabbed Armin's arm and looked excitedly over at Clarke. "Met yesterday?" Armin asked skeptically. "Kanvar, being someone's acquaintance isn't a good reason to get-" Before Armin could finish his sentence, Kanvar had let go off his arm and began racing over towards Clarke. The blond skidded to a halt a few feet away from the tall boy and walked up to him with a goofy grin plastered on his face. "Hey, Clarke!" Kanvar beamed cheerfully as he smiled up at the other boy. "You remember me, right? From the whole shenanigan yesterday?" It didn't take long for Armin to scroll up behind Kanvar. The rougher looking twin had his arms crossed across the backside of his head and he held a bored expression on his face. He turned his head away from Clarke as though the strange boy wasn't worth his time. Armin took a moment to look Clarke over with a bemused expression before looking away with a scowl that caused Kanvar to shoot him a strained glance before turning and smiling at Clarke once more. Share this post Link to post
Posted August 12, 2015 Where could he be? As Clarke wandered the school grounds, he was filled with a sudden crushing nostalgia, a deep longing that seemed to want to suffocate and swallow him whole. Clarke stopped abruptly as he passed by the front doors to the school, feeling it all too much-- "Hey! So you do go here after all!" A surprised glance up. "What are you doing?" He attempts to hide his book, doesn't he? { I haven't read in eight months. } "I heard it's about to rain. Wanna go inside?" A shake of the head. How old had they been, back then . . . . ? "Why not? You're not shy, are you?" A flustered yell. { I was so lucky. } He lowers his head, biting painfully into his lip. Clarke pauses, looking up at the skies above as the black-haired male hesitated before crossing the threshold of the school, his footsteps thundering and steadily increasing in intensity. I want to get away from here. I need to get away from here. "Do you think I can hop the fence?" "Don't be shy, Clarke, try it too?" He feels as if he can't breathe. He sees him around every corner, hears his voice with each passing day, and Clarke wants to scream. Nothing is okay. Why do I keep pretending that it is . . . ? "Hey, Clarke!" Clarke is brought out of his thoughts by someone calling his name, and for one split second that sounds so eerily familiar that he turns with expectant joy, wanting to see him, hold him-- And he's met with a certain someone grinning brightly. Kanvar is not the right height, not the right person, and he wants to scream. The smile that had been slowly working onto his lips suddenly disappears, and Clarke remains stoic. "You remember me, right? From the whole shenanigan yesterday?" "Good morning, Kanavar," he returns, words stiff. The usual pleasantries, nothing more. At the other's words, Clarke nods. "Hard to forget," he returns, and he's just about to ask Kanvar to come with him as the Raven is expecting their company when someone suddenly strolls up behind the blond, and for a second Clarke has to blink once, twice. Is he seeing things? Someone identical to Kanvar now stands slightly behind him, arms clasped behind his head in a devil-may-care show of attitude. Instantly, Clarke dislikes how this newcomer seems to be looking at him--as if he's scum of the earth, and the black-haired male instantly wants to rip into the other. How could this be? Unless . . . Twins . . . ? Of all the people the Raven could have picked. Clarke sighs, rolling his eyes, and then turns his attention to the task at hand. Somehow, he has to get rid of this 'twin' so Kanvar and the Raven could talk. "And you are?" he asks, voice stiff, a small incline of the head to gesture as to who he was referring to. He looks from the twin, who seems to be ignoring his presence whole, to Kanvar, who is smiling expectantly, and Clarke thinks that he is too old for this. God, how could the boy be so cheerful? Share this post Link to post
Posted August 12, 2015 Though somewhat disappointed with Clarke's pleasant reply, Kanvar kept smiling in hopes that his joviality would become infectious. Armin on the other hand didn't seem too impressed with Clarke's pleasantries. Kanvar heard him faintly snort when Clarke mentioned how Kanvar was "hard to forget". The older twin wanted to reprimand his brother for being so rude but refrained from doing so. After all, Clarke was standing right in front of them. Kanvar could always mentioned how he didn't appreciate Armin's behavior after Clarke was gone. "It's good too see you again," Kanvar said in an upbeat tone as he clasped his hands together behind his back and rocked on his feet. Clarke, unfortunately, did not seem amused and turned his head to Armin. "And you are?" Kanvar could feel a tug on the corner of his lips as Clarke addressed the hot-headed boy. Armin, who had been staring after the hoard of students trekking through the campus, glanced over at Clarke with a piercing glare. For a moment, the blond said nothing and simply let his gaze dig into the stranger. "Armin," the boy said monotonously before tearing his gaze away from Clarke. "Listen," Armin began as he turned his back on Clarke and faced his brother. "Asher and I had some plans tonight so I'm going to head on home. Try not to stay out late with him," Armin nodded in Clarke's general direction. "We got enough problems as it is without adding more to the pile." Kanvar nodded affirmatively with a determined expression. "Don't you worry about me," Kanvar reassured his brother. "You go off and punch some guys with Asher." "We don't punch people, Kanvar," Armin sighed in feigned exasperation. "Sure you do," Kanvar said as he waved his hand dismissively. "You always brag about getting the other competitors' swim trunks in a knot." "That is definitely not what I said- Ugh, look, I'll see you at the house, alright?" Kanvar said as he rubbed the side of his neck anxiously. "Alright!" Kanvar confirmed as his grin widened. "Good, I'll see you at the house then." With a short wave to Kanvar, and another quick glare in Clarke's direction, Armin turned away from the two boys and joined the steady flow of students exiting the campus. As soon as Armin was out of earshot, Kanvar spun towards Clarke with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry if Armin was a little hard on you," Kanvar said as he rubbed the nape of his neck comfortingly. "He's always been a bit overprotective and considering what's happened before..." Kanvar drifted off, shaking his head at his unspoken words. "But that isn't important right now!" Kanvar chimed as he grinned up at Clarke. "How have you been? Is your shoulder okay?" Pausing for a moment to ponder his thoughts, Kanvar quickly added, "I mean, if you're okay with me asking." Share this post Link to post
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