[/url] TUMBLRxxx LOGICxxx VECTOR TIMExxx INTERACTIONxxx MENTAL HEALTH MEMORY xxxxx xxxxxFor much of his time here, Cherno did not say a word. He simply watched. Observed, without commenting, with the focus and introspection of a scientist engaged in an experiment. Was this "trade" going to bring anything else to the table? It seemed more like a zero-sum. Tit-for-tat. This was, assuming of course, that the trade could happen properly. It is true that trading a rule that was currently a large hindrance for one of lesser importance would be hob-stankering kick-smashing. But for such a trade to happen, it meant understanding the demoness' goals with this little game. And it was clear, thus far, that none of them -- he knew, anywho -- understood the goal of this trip smack jilly-janked game. Yet. With a dazed frown, he rested his head upon a weary white fist. It wasn't time to speak up yet, no. Beep. A--ack-- what? Ah-- right. Right, his phone. A text. Things had been such a drain upon his soul. He'd glance up its flipside in a jiff. Things were getting interesting. Were they going to summon the demoness after all? Maybe-- yeah, maybe that'd be a good chance. A good point-hole. Cherno yawned without a word, and rubbed his eyepatch, briefly looking away. Ugh. The wounds from that hellish Damocles place hadn't healed yet. Fuck. How the fuck did things happen to get even more twisted for him in this timeline?
[/url] TUMBLRxxx LOGICxxx VECTOR TIMExxx INTERACTIONxxx MENTAL HEALTH MEMORY xxxxx xxxxxWhen the reply, and the gentle voice, came through the phone, it was as if Cherno was lifted off of his feet. But there was something off about her voice. It wasn't the typical Temperance-style bite. It-- it seemed strained. Almost painful. ****. Something happened, didn't it? Oh-- oh no. It-- it wasn't serious, was it? But she was alive. Alive! This was a miracle. Was she going to be okay after all? ... Don't touch the mill of time like that, Cherno. You were going to be certain she was okay. Cherno gulped, his hands shaking. "Y--You're okay. Thank god. Thank god you're okay. I'm sorry. I'm mighty s--sorry for making a right idiot of my self, there. I just-- I don't-- I can't bear to lose you after I was cast out into the world without a trace of memory and having only felt the soul of your implicit connection. Are you hurt? Your voice sounds strained. If you want, I don't want you to stop any sleep you'll be getting to, tonight. I'll come see you tomorrow. You can tell me what's wrong then, if you really want."
[/url] TUMBLRxxx LOGICxxx VECTOR TIMExxx INTERACTIONxxx MENTAL HEALTH MEMORY xxxxx xxxxxA pale hand, dizzy, dazed, stretched out aimlessly towards the careless, empty air of the airship's control station. Cherno groaned from the weight of his fatigue. His thoughts were a mess, and he didn't want to open a peek towards this day. He was curled up, like a coiled snake, upon the control seat, his head gently resting by some of the large metal levers and shafts. He felt around for his phone. Did someone try to call him last night? When he was able to feel the small rectangular device, he picked it up in his hand and dangled it high above his face. Ah ... he didn't want to even open his eyes. What kind of lullaby did that strange girl even serenade him with? He pressed a button on the side. They left a message, hopefully-- ... "C-Cherno-" SHITTING CANTOR CARDINAL NUMBERS IT WAS HER. Cherno dropped the phone and it crashed towards his face, almost knocking in his nose. She-- She was-- ... Cherno opened his eyes and scrambled around on the chair, grabbing his phone and dialing in Temperance's number. Ring ring. Pick up ...
That is terrible. The Spam Zone must be heated, then. But be careful.
It takes a special effort to be able to escape from the Grid. I commend you, madam.
A dish best served cold.
Source Fiction: Maoyuu Maou Yuusha Character: Demon King/Crimson Scholar/etc. What?'s Art Goal of the Piece: Colour-work. Program: Paint Tool SAI Greetings. I decided to fool around with acrylic brushes and I realized that my colouring is not as terrible anymore! Appropriately I cheered around as I decided to create some sort of demonic thing to test this. Spoiler
'tis true, I feel the same at times. Even at the moment, really. Why oh why does this world exist to make all of us busy.
Indeeeed. Yes, namely because I have not had much leisure time beyond the forum otherwise. I would not be on the forum at all even, if not for...
Last night was a post-bomb ten-post chain because it was necessary for some sort of ridiculous drama. /end explanation
Amusingly enough, I am one of the RPers in that thread who actually must become /more/ obsessed, really. Namely because my characters are...
Ah, it is not necessarily obsession more so how the RP is structured. One generally has to post ... every day, really, at the risk of being booted...
Ooh, could be better you say? I am happy you are still doing well, however. Not too excessively busy, I hope?
Now, now, Amaury, there is no need to cosplay as Mephistopheles for all of these staff returns.
It is clear that he is making this observation due to Biology class. Introspective hormonal biology is just as valid, you see. I agree. Claw is a beach. It is no wonder that he attracts all of the lassies.
[/url] TUMBLRxxx LOGICxxx VECTOR TIMExxx INTERACTIONxxx MENTAL HEALTH MEMORY xxxxx xxxxxIt had been twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of knocking and trying to peer into the house. Everything was dark, with the exception of one bathroom. They had tried calling, and knocking, and throwing stones. But nothing. Cherno sniffled, his nose red from the cold. But he-- he couldn't give up, no-- not like this-- ... Twenty minutes. He reached the front door of the old, dilapidated home again. The night smog of the nearby factories stung his nostrils. His eyes were red from fatigue and dirty sulphuric fog. He tapped the door gently, and then banged on it loudly, again. ... ... ... ... But there was nothing. Was this how Temperance felt when he did not reply? Ah ... Cherno slumped to the ground, in front of the door. What was this? What was ... what as all of this? All of it for nothing? She wasn't here, was she? Ha. What kind of hero was Cherno? All those promises he made. Of saving people. How could he do any of it when time itself seemed to fight against him? Fuck. Fuck. Cherno punched the door loudly, lowering his head, as he crouched in front of it. But he felt a soft hand upon his arm. He did not look up. "Come, Cherno Plume. Back to the airship. She is not here, and we must look for her tomorrow. You have done enough, and I am proud of you. Let me put you to sleep with that lullaby, as I said ..." ... Ah ... x x x ( back in the airship they slept on opposite sides of the entire gosh darned craft because of crazy insanity tension after olivia sang that lullaby thing which will be in another flashback post whoop two minutes remaining )
[/url] TUMBLRxxx LOGICxxx VECTOR TIMExxx INTERACTIONxxx MENTAL HEALTH MEMORY xxxxx xxxxxThe cold, night air. It felt -- refreshing? Crisp. It had been forever since Cherno had experienced this pure feeling -- standing on an open field, with only the wind and the mountains and the stars as his company. Oh, and some strange loose-headed girl. What a mood-killer. The mountain wind flowed through his hair, and he looked up towards the stars in the night sky, with the silver-haired girl grasping onto the sleeve of his coat. The stars, they seemed so cold and uncaring tonight. Was he overreacting? Probably. But the last time he let Temperance out of his conscious sight ... He turned back to the weirdo girl with a dazed look. Her face seemed like it was badly hiding a bout of stress and anger. "... Yeah, okay, what's up with you. You look like you're constipated." "You're still a big fool as you ever were, Cherno! I can't-- I-- I just can't believe it. Do you expect me to believe a story as wild as that?" The girl puffed her cheeks and venomously looked up at the stars, crossing her arms. The mountain wind glided along her silvery strands of hair, giving her the impression of a ghost, or a moor spirit. "Really! Really! I thought you would be more creative! How terrible of me to assume!" "Aha! You! Winning big on the stock market, aaah--" She held out her arms for emphasis. "Okay! Of course! But commissioning some sort of monstrous state-of-the-art airship that can withstand all sorts of catastrophic effects-- what am I, twelve? Do you expect me to believe your little story? This is reality, not some sort of ... ri--ridiculous fancy airship pilot internet role play!" Cherno groaned. "Do you ever shut up?" "Well then!" The girl turned away from Cherno. "Rude as before, rude as always. Some things really never do change. Insolence! Futile! And here I thought you never tired of my beaaaautiful soprano voice, hrm?" She turned back to face him with another cunning smile. What was this girl's problem? "I can even sing you a lullaby. Guaranteed to make you fall asleep from my angelic polyhymnia! Kukuku. Just ask that pitiable malchik boy.--" "Look! This is the third fucking time you've mentioned how I haven't changed! I get the god damn point! You really are insufferable -- I have no idea how that crazy syringe guy can put up with you! Or anyone else! Ugh. Maybe you really are Olivia." ... Was she? For a moment, the girl was silent, looking at Cherno with blank eyes. What was she thinking? Agh ... she certainly was a challenge to read. "We should be getting a move on already. If you're telling the truth, show me this little airship of yours with mine own eyes. I don't see it yet, Mr. Plume." Right, right. Hold your horses. Cherno walked further through the enormous field. The sea of dew-grass splayed and rolled around as the winds ruffled it, and it only took a few moments before he was able to find a nice, flat spot to place the sphere. He took it out of its pocket, rubbing his thumb against the cold metal, and dropped it on the ground. Cherno quickly ran back to the girl's side, and waited. Just a minute-- ... Bang. The sphere exploded into fire, and then a rapidly-expanding cloud of smoke. A blackness that grew larger and larger, almost like a demon, before it seemed to take up much of the field itself. Cherno and the girl were just in the right position to not be caught in the immense cloud, but the winds soon dissipated the thickness, and what was left was Cherno's airship. The Orpheus. Good as new. Hopefully he could focus on this working as much as possible. He turned to the girl-- Oh. She looked frozen. In shock? In horror? What was that expression? Why was she so hard to read? Cherno waved a hand in front of her, and she only blinked in amazement. "You're alive, dandy-pandy," He said, closing his eyes. "Okay. This thing works on a relocation-dislocation system. We're gonna have to teleport there." "I-- what--" "Repeat after me. These are the-- the magic words to enter the ship ..." A I R S H I P O R P H E U S "You said that you knew where she could be?" "I said that I knew where her father could be. Step up, Mr. Plume." "Damn, woman! Stop fretting with the details already!" "Righty, righty, I've had-- I've had enough of your insolence for one night." Although Cherno's expression, as he sat at the controls of the ship, was a disgruntled mess, his heart felt lighter. Just a bit. The worry and despair continued to tie it down, but the small beads of hope lifting it up like a balloon struggled to move forward. It was refreshing, even with this girl. Oh, how tired he was. How late was it? He wanted to sleep. Just sleep, so badly. He could barely reply to the excitable girl anymore, either. He broke his gaze away from the wide windows in front of him, casting a view into a beautiful, star-struck night sky, and moved it towards the girl's face. It seemed calm and collected. Cherno was surprised. Despite her previous bewilderment, she seemed perfectly at ease here. What was she? She seemed almost as intent as he was on this journey. What was she thinking, really? She turned her eyes his way, and their eyes met. "Oh!" The girl exclaimed, holding up a hand to her small mouth, her cheeks red with sly, playful delight. "Staring at my face secretly, hm? Shouldn't you be looking out the window, Mr. Plume? Or do you truly think my face is just as beautiful at the stars? Ohoho. ~" "What? I-" "My, my ... Mr. Plume, Mr. Plume! Such a tiger. I never knew the passionate fires burned within your heart. You should give malchik some lessons some time. And ask him to stare at my face as much as you do, maybe?. Ahahaha!" Her light laugh bore a tinge of mild acidity. Cherno groaned again, and turned his head back to the window. For the duration of the trip, he tried not to look back at the strange girl again. Her very appearance had tugged at something at the back of her mind. Could it be that he was-- he was simply trying to remember something? It was clear enough she had wander-daddled into his current life as a symbol of his past, just like how he was stuck in this time-travel repeat shenanigan. Cherno gripped the steering bars more tightly. Would he ever find out who she actually was? How much had she been lying to him? ... Though, he had to admit. For all of her faults, she made for strangely familiar company. Maybe not pleasant at first, but all of her quips were something to get used to, weren't they? "There." "Huh? What? There, what? You're pointing at a dark sky." "There, Mr. Plume." The girl pointed at the window, and tapped one of the screens on the granite slab table she had been leaning on. One of the maps, right? Or was it one of the sensors? Ack, he couldn't remember right now. "Mr. Spike's home is generally below us. There are a few clearings that you can land this monster, so perhaps we should choose one that isn't so noticeable." "I'm well aware of that, thanks, co-pilot." "So distasteful!" The girl made a big show out of pretending to spit. "Of this ship? Well, I never! Do some of these people know that you have their vitality signals hooked up on screens? Out of the many changes you have gone through, Mr. Plume, I was never aware you would become a stalker." Cherno furrowed his eyebrows and glanced back violently at the crazy stupid girl. She stuck his tongue out at him. "I'll fold, Mr. Plume. I've bothered you enough for one night." She sighed, and turned away from him, resting her elbow on the granite counter, and her chin upon her hand as she dreamily stared at the stars behind the windows. "But I have a request." Cherno relaxed his tense muscles, and also turned away. "... What. What is it." "Do you recall when I asked you if I could sing you a lullaby? I was not fibbing. ... Perhaps, even, it may help you remember." x x x
Olivia's Diary Entry | xxx « Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon,Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd. » [/url] unison : : red thread to the past "... Come in." Absolutely fascinating, it was ... To see Cherno like this. Almost three years now, had it been? She would wonder if he was still all sour and grumpy over the ... events, with the pig-nosed stinky malchik, but he seemed to not remember anything. Not a shred of their memories together ... It was a shame. She, too, let out a whispered sigh. "I'll inform you in due time. Quickly, tell me of your predicament before the others arrive. You relied on me quite a bit, in the past, to assist your troubles. And--" She brought forth her arm and mockingly flexed it, with a wink. "I have to say, there was a rather point-high success rate!" She felt so hollow today. Was it because she was meeting -- and talking -- with him, in person? How ridiculous, Olivia. Shape up, madam. Pull yourself together. She lowered her arm and gazed sternly at Cherno's face. At first, it looked as if he would object, but the widening of his eyes read some deeper worry. Confused. Muddled. Was he trying to remember something? There was certainly a deeper worry. Would he not spit it out already? Had he changed this much -- to become so ... inclusive, introverted, defensive, where a stormy shell kept his inner workings safe from the world? Was this what everything had done to you, Cherno Roncesvalles? Cherno met her gaze just then, causing Olivia to focus. "I don't know who you are, but you remind me of someone." "Oh?" "Yeah. Her name was Olivia Suchet." Olivia bit her tongue behind her closed mouth, upon hearing the name Suchet. It was like blood upon her lips. "I woke up from some sort of trip-smacking up-clack-lack ... nightmare, just more over fifteen minutes earlier. There was a boy there named Orpheus. I don't know-- I still don't know what he is, but it's clear that he isn't something natural to me. He kept talking about you, and these two other girls. One I can't remember the name of, as if my nightmares censored it intentionally. I just-- I don't know." "Oh. Tell me about this Olivia, girl." "Don't ask me! Damn. I just kept hearing the name. I could be wrong. You're the only girl who seems to know about my past life, you dig? The name though, it just ... fits. I don't have anything else to call a girl who knows so much about my past." "This nightmare of yours ... said nothing?" Olivia tried to hide the sudden drop in her voice. "He did say a few things. She was notoriously isolating -- maybe even cruel when first met. Cold. Always would play with some other boy. Ignore ignore. And-- and he would go jump offin' with comparisons to the other girl. He would call her sweet, and caring, and someone who wouldn't hurt a fly." Olivia's heart sunk. "Oh.Well, well. You think I'm cold and isolating, do you? Ahahaha! This ... Olivia, she sounds like a useless, pretentious buffoon. I hate people like her, I should say. Have you ever read Dickens? She sounds like Estelle. Estelle was a ridiculous, bigoted character at a similar age--" "Yeah, yeah. I don't know. Am I right to really go up and trust my screwed up perceptions of the past like that? ... I'll assume your word on you being the other girl for now." "You said there were two others." Cherno's lip quivered, and his eyes shot wide open. "... Fuck. Right, I did. There was Olivia Suchet. There was the nameless girl, and there was the third recurring name. ... Temperance Spike." His face briefly lost its stony stare, melding into something malleable. Temperance ... Spike? Spike? Of the man who had his records in the red within the ILP server? That Spike? The one who had a worse record than her? ... "A friend's in trouble, and-- and fuck, I'm doing it again. Ugh. I need to get out of here, quickly. Sorry--" Cherno tried moving past Olivia, but she pushed out her hand and held him back, square in his chest. "No. Nonsense. ... I'm coming with you. I must." She bit her lip.
[/url] TUMBLRxxx LOGICxxx VECTOR TIMExxx INTERACTIONxxx MENTAL HEALTH MEMORY xxxxx xxxxx unison | red vector of negative t-values Mister ... Mister Roncesvalles? That-- That wasn't-- -- Spoiler: Brief snippet of that terrible dream Prescott: T-thanks for uh, well, you see, for-- for helping, R-Roncesvalles-- was your name, right? :: It's Cherno Prescott: C-Cherno? Prescott: I- well, you, well-- uh, well, excuse me, b-but um-- Prescott: I haven't heard of no C-Cherno. Prescott: Now! Nownownow, I-Inspector warned me, well-- warned me of this! Y-young-- what was her name-- Mari-something Roncesvalles would be making up names? :: But my name is Cherno! Prescott: M-move along now, w-we've got to catch that c-c-criminal quick- well, um, quickly, ya hear! Roncesvalles. It was one of the names in his dream that kept re-occuring. Along with another one. He turned to the girl and widened his eyes. The other name. Could she be the bearer of the other name? This was the one with the-- the voice! From the crazy lab place! She knew when they were all kids, didn't she? She knew things about his past! Cherno felt some anger bubble up within him, but it died down quickly. This was no time for ridiculous fits of rage. The anger withered, and he sighed. "Aren't you gonna tell me your name first, you crazed-up hop-symptotin' ... derivative? It's common courtesy for a tricky lass like you to be barging up into a lad's room smacked up like that."
Olivia's Diary Entry | xxx « Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon,Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd. » [/url] unison : : red thread to the past "... Come in." The gruff voice was hush and whispered, as if the feelings behind it were a tempest of trouble and tumultuous concern. Oh, Mr. Plume, what were you getting into now, hm? ... You really hadn't changed, had you? Just as emotional. You never were good at hiding your emotions -- not as well as she, of course. Aha. She placed her hand around the doorknob and turned it, slowly pushing the door inward. With a pensive silence, she looked inside the room. And there he was. How long had it been ... really? He seemed much taller in person than through the ILP camera screens, didn't he? And much more ... what was it-- pained? His face was dark, as if he had gone through too much. Whatever happened to the Cherno light? ... Ah, this was his first time he would have seen her in a while, would it? Olivia stepped in, her bare, manicured feet cold against the wooden floor. She closed the door behind her, and the dark room was lit only by the midnight blue of the starry sky, shining beams through the window. She looked up to face Cherno. ... How many things, oh, how many things she wanted to tell him! It was unbelievable that he was alive after-- after all these years, wasn't it, Olivia?- No. You must stay calm. Olivia closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply, before once again opening them and staring at Cherno with a piercing intensity. "We meet, Mr. Roncesvalles." "Eep!" She smiled slyly and placed a finger to her lip. "What a slip! How rude of me to get your name wrong, Mr ... Plume, if that is what you go by. You were making quite the ruckus, and I must say it was much worse than anything you did when we were tots."
