Wife of the Consul

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Wife of the Consul
Tweet Topic Started: Feb 17 2008, 08:17 AM (1,080 Views)
Katsuko	Feb 17 2008, 08:17 AM Post #1
Sandopolis Act 1 Posts: 1,687 Group: S Rank Hero Member #1,933 Joined: August 14, 2007 Gender: Male	The Wife of the Consul Prologue The first incident took place in a small, relatively isolated, high-class suburb in Tristonne, a district in the far north-east of the country, bordering the capitol district on the eastern side. The victim was a Cormerette,and it must be remembered that during the time of the Republic, this species was considered a part of the continent's animalia. No bird, no matter how learned or cultured, was entitled to any of the privileges of the citizen. Society, having no interest in her kind, offered no investigation into the murder. What might have happened, had the State known what kind of catastrophic effects would issue from this killer, had it pursued and captured Heinrich, is a favorite topic among historians. ~An Examination of The UCD: 1652-1654 C, page 42, published 1721 C~ Treble could no longer fly. She was pursued, she was exhausted, and she had been maimed beyond her meager ability to cope. Blood was in her eyes and mouth, and her wing felt as though it were about to snap off, and fly into the wind. Indeed, it might have already, for all her tortured senses could tell her. In a last-ditch effort to escape what seemed the black talons of inexorable fate, she crashed into the brush, and lay there, breathing hard, and quiet. Before this, she had been a magnificently beautiful bird, as most Cormerettes are. Although they are all but extinct in the modern world, a few rare specimens still remain. They are almost completely white all along their bodies, which are typically between three and five feet long from beak to tail-bone. Where they are white, they seem to glow in even the slightest amount of light, and they are, in all but the rarest specimens, impeccably clean animals. The heads of females are rounded, like those of doves and pigeons, while the males are angular, and sharp, like the owls'. Aside from the white pearl of its body, the Cormerette has three great prides—its under-wings, its crest, and its two long, pointed tail-feathers. These are always colored, usually magnificently. Although the exact color varies from bird to bird, the feathers, without exception, gleam with majestic iridescence. In the case of Treble, her badge-feathers, as they had come to be called, were bright red. These, however, were about the only mark of beauty left to Treble. Her left wing had been ripped open. Her body was riddled with the slashes and cuts of some other bird's beak and talons, and the blood flowed as water does from a fountain. Her beak, once beautiful in its gleaming jet-black, was cracked down the left, part hanging from her face by just the slimmest piece of flesh. For a few fleeting moments, she believed that Hell had claimed her at last, that this was the epitomal torture. Then, she saw him. He was exactly like her in nearly every way, but instead of red, his badge feathers were blue, and his face, although still beautiful, was distorted, and made horrendous by his expression. He was scowling down at her, cruel, and judgmental. Every inch of his rigid, sharp posture spoke of anger, and of a demented justice. She trembled. She flapped her wings, desperately making for flight, but it was a feeble, useless effort with her wing as torn as it was. She merely flailed. She was always looking up at him, terrified and imploring. He circled, neither attacking nor relenting, but merely scowling down, in a hideous imitation of a vulture. This continued for what may have been a minute, before the agony of terror, far greater than any of her wounds, drove her to shout. “Heinrich! Heinrich, dear God, I didn't do anything!” He was frigid stone to her, an implacable wall before a breeze. He continued to circle, around and around again, unrelenting, passive in a deadly assault. Meanwhile, the blood continued to gush, and Treble continued to struggle. In her struggling, she caused more damage, tore more skin, lost more feathers, stretched new muscles. Every time that Heinrich, black in the sunrise, circled over her, his dread grew on her. It started as unbearable pain, and only got worse. She broke down, and wept. She quit her futile efforts at escape, took her eyes off the bird above, and gave into exhaustion and despair. At the first sound of a sob, Heinrich flinched, and, as though struck by a thunderbolt, an expression like that of an infuriated eagle came over him. He was the god of wrath himself. He broke his long silence with a screech, and fell on Treble. He tore at her, wrenching the still flinching and sobbing body from the ground, and shook her until she was ripped from him by the mere force. He took her up a final time by the throat, and flew straight up. The wind rushed past him, the only noise across his ear, as silence settled. She was dead. He did not drop the corpse, or even land. The body, though at least as large as he, did not weigh him down. Instead, he leveled himself with the ground, and flew south. He was covered in blood, though this was not his only blemish. Murder leaves its scar, whether visible or invisible, and where Treble's blood had met with his badge-feathers, the feathers had turned the deepest shade of black. The Wife of the Consul Book I: For Me Chapter 1 Reader, forgive me if I have misled you. This is not Heinrich's story, and it is certainly not Treble's. Though they feature prominently in the drama of our heroine, they are but pawns in the larger tale. They are heroes in their own narrative, but only pieces, perhaps small or large, but never central, in a thousand others. This is the story of the human girl who lived in a house not fifty yards from the murder we have just witnessed. Her name was Adelaide, she was fifteen years old, and she was among the least pleasant people you or I could ever wish to meet. Her friends, if she'd had any, would have called her difficult, and perhaps a little selfish, but they would have meant that it was easier to get along with an ill-tempered, under-fed tiger, and that if she ever had stopped being the most jealous, egotistical, and generally disagreeable twit they had ever met, they had missed the moment. In fact, Adelaide was so incredibly unpleasant that if there is some transcendent justice, some judicative God or Karma which sees that all eventually reap what they sow, she might have deserved the horrors which were about to confront her. What's more, if she had known what was coming, she might have acted differently all those days, and perhaps might have avoided what came; but she did not, of course. All she knew was that her alarm had just gone off, and she wished very much that it had not. ~~~ The alarm-clock began Adelaide's day as it does for most—that is, miserably. As soon as it gave its toll, Adelaide knew that it was 6:45 A.M, on a Monday, during the blackest, coldest part of winter. She knew this even though she was still too half-asleep to remember her own name, to realize why Monday was so terrible, or even to raise a paw to shut up the obnoxious blare. Perhaps her almost instinctual dread had to do with the hungry pit in her stomach, or the chill that feathered its way through the window. Whatever its cause, it was a cruel reminder that life is hard, long, and filled with cold Monday mornings, and that Adelaide would soon have to venture forth into one. After several minutes of pretending to be asleep, Adelaide groaned, arched her back, and forced her eyes open. The sun was shining opaquely through the morning mist, and the warm smell of coffee had already filled the house. “Adelaide,” a servant called from below. His voice possessed an outward authority, but it was underlined by a tired resignation, in the manner of all nannies of rich children. “Adelaide… ma'am, you set your alarm too late again. You'll be late if we don't leave in three quarters of an hour.” “Yeah, I know Hugo,” the girl snapped, perhaps more irritably than she meant. “Give a minute, alright? I have to shower…” Few, had they seen her, would have disputed that; her short black hair was a hopeless ganglius, while her almost-paper white skin gleamed with a layer of grease. The girl reeked of herself. She was short, but unnaturally skinny despite her dwarfishness. Her face was small, her nose pinched, and her eyes enormous and green, so that she might have resembled a cat had she been of the right temperament. All in all, she needed lots of food, a smile, but above all, a bath. “Your breakfast is cold, ma'am.” Adelaide fought down a scathing retort; she knew, on some very low level, that she was fortunate to have someone like Hugo, spurring her along. It had to be someone, and her parents certainly didn’t came if she got to school on time. Adelaide opened the first drawer on her dresser. From it, she drew out and stuffed herself into an outfit she had arranged the night before. It consisted of a pair of blue-jeans, a hot-pink T-shirt of her favorite design, (the sort twelve-year olds like to wear, with the miscellaneous insult captioning some obnoxiously cute cartoon animal), and a pair of white Tennis shoes, all (shoes excepted) at least one size too small for her. This was her winter apparel. Yes, she would freeze in her under-heated school, (Stalingrad, as the students liked to call it), but, as she never tired of telling herself, “beauty is painful.”Alas, the desperate maim themselves for coal dust. No matter how she wore her clothing, she simply hadn't washed up. Her hair was unkempt and lack-luster, her eyes red, and the evidence of a head-cold still clung around her head. She pulled a comb from the jeans’ back-pocket, and tried to fix what she could. It was a vain effort. She needed to wash, shampoo, condition, dry, and curl her “pelage,” and there was no way around it. She had been doomed since she had decided to go to bed without the curlers in. “Adelaide,” Hugo sighed, now outside her door, “If you’re late again, you know what the consequences will be. Do hurry…” Adelaide gave an exasperated groan, stood before a mirror on her door, and gave herself a last once-over. In her own mind, she flattered herself a hundred times, imagining herself the pinnacle of beauty, coquetry perfected. It was, after all, the kind of lift her family's psychologist had recommended for her depression. Still, even in the gray light of morning, the mirror reflected what was there, and even Adelaide could not imagine it away. “Are you prepared to depart, dear?” the man sighed. He had by now, of course, given up all hope on getting her to school on time. “Not even close. I don’t care what you say. I’m not going to school until I'm good and ready, and don’t argue, because I’m sure Mother and Father would agree with me. I’m going to take a five-minute shower, and when I come out, you better be ready.” Hugo couldn't repress a chuckle. “Mmmhm. Well, I wouldn’t want to slow you down, now would I?” Hugo was a very stout, middle-aged man. His “penguin-suit,” as Adelaide had called it when she was young, bulged to at least five feet in diameter at his stomach, and trembled like a lake under a gale when he laughed, coughed, or made any other sudden movements. His beard was very long, curly, and grey, the kind of thing you or I might associate with great presidents, or American Civil War generals. “Well, I’ve done my best,” he sighed, as he slowly lowered his orbile body into a nearby chair. “No one can claim I don’t try. I should really take a harder line with her, but… oh,” he sighed contentedly, “I suppose there’s no real excuse. I’m simply too fat and lazy, and a sucker for a pretty face. ” Hugo had been the family's nanny-servant for the past twelve years, and during that time, he had learned precisely why he could not “take a harder line with the girl.” That, after all, would mean imposing his will on dear Adelaide, and she only just tolerated suggestions. She had not tolerated those at first, and had her parents not been distracted by problems with business, Hugo probably would have been swapped with someone who did not make suggestions, or even have thoughts in that general direction. Finally, after thirty minutes, the shower shut off, and five minutes after that, Adelaide came yawning and stretching out of her room. She was still not half as well-groomed as she would have liked, but she was, in her own mind anyway, presentable. “I made you an omelet, as you requested last night…” Hugo sighed, as he struggled to his feet. “Yeah, I know,” Adelaide interrupted, “I can smell too you know; but like you said, I don’t have time. Besides,” she added with a smirk, “I prefer my figure to yours. Feed it to the dog; I’ll have a power bar.” “The… poodle, ma’am? Heavens! The omelet’s bigger than she is, and besides...” “Then you eat it! Just get me to school on time. How long do we have, anyway?” “Five minutes, ma’am,” Adelaide rolled her eyes, and shoved the servant out of her way. She flew down the spiral staircase, and shot out the mansion's front door. Hugo smiled, despite the knowledge that Adelaide would scold him the entire ten minute drive to school. She was the center of his job, his life. Certainly, he worked for the money, he dragged himself through her sludge for a fat paycheck at the end of the month, but at the end of the day, what was that worth when he had two days of every week to spend it? Whatever she was, however she acted, he couldn’t help but love her as a daughter. What would his life have been if he hadn't? ~~~ Meanwhile, as Hugo's car rolled out the driveway, a bird alighted one of the six chimneys of her house. He was mostly white, except for his crest, tail-feathers, and under-wings, which were blue splotched with black, despite anything he did to clean them. Heinrich had returned. He watched Adelaide leave with rapt attention, a definite purpose to his arched posture. He was sinister, a black silhouette in the rising sun. Just before the car pulled over the horizon, he took off, and followed. Edited by Katsuko, Jan 3 2009, 03:42 PM.
	<3 All you need is love <3


Katsuko	Feb 17 2008, 02:04 PM Post #2
Sandopolis Act 1 Posts: 1,687 Group: S Rank Hero Member #1,933 Joined: August 14, 2007 Gender: Male	The Wife of the Consul Book I: For Me Chapter 2 Renee was a girl, but on the average day, it was hard to tell. Her hair was short, almost bristly at points. Her face, possessing the only real feminine grace to her, was white, and her lips a very deep, natural pink. Her eyes were as black to the point that it was difficult to find her pupils in their vastness, and the skin was soft, and beautifully pure, but always tight, almost formal, like what one sees in old portraits of European nobles. Her clothes, while not exactly masculine, certainly did nothing to flatter her figure. Her blue jeans, old and worn to white thread at points, were very large, and all but covered a much abused pair of once-white tennis shoes. Her shirt looked like something she might have inherited from an older brother, except it was a very dark shade of purple, and had the inkling of some long illegible pink label across the chest. On this particular day, Renee also wore a battered, dusty gray sweater to ward off the cold. Thus, the girl arrived at school, looking as destitute and miserable as any homeless wretch, but as proud as any monarch, and as content as anything else. She came to school with a high head, and what might have been described as a cheerful face, if it had not carried so much authority. She was a paragon of confidence, exuding a reserved smugness, almost conceit. She observed the world around her like a priest, being in it, but above it at the same time. Once she was inside, she hung by her locker for a good ten minutes, organizing her books, rearranging the various flowers and paintings of flowers with which she decorated her locker, and generally finding ways to waste time. When there was a mere two minutes to class, and the majority of students had found their way to class, Adelaide burst into the school, and Renee's face lit up. “Adelaide! You're here, and you might actually make it to class on time today. My congratulations to you.” Adelaide sniffed, and walked past with an extremely brief, “Hi.” She walked on, stopping at no locker. Because of her tardy tendencies, she had developed what was, in her mind, a sound strategy of organization: She bought the most enormous receptacle she could manage to strap onto her back, and then stuffed it with every school-item she owned. Then, whenever she needed anything, she would simply dive into it, and swim about until she happened to bump into whatever “it” was. Renee smiled sweetly, with the most genuine affect at friendliness that any girl could ever muster, but once Adelaide was past, it devolved into a cruel smirk. Renee put a hand on the gargantuan backpack, and in a single swift movement, somehow managed to open it in just the right way, so that everything it contained poured out in an enormous avalanche of books, pens and papers. “Oh! I'm sorry! Here, let me help.” said Renee, as she began to stuff ever piece of Adelaide's lunch into her pockets. The school provided no food for the children, and Renee's parents could barely put dinner on the table. This, perhaps, was what began Adelaide and Renee's relationship: Adelaide brought, by far, the most delicious food. The way Renee got the food varied from day to day, but it was always cruelly calculated to be at once novel, and as humiliating as any of her traditional methods. Adelaide, dejected but frantic, scrambled to reload her backpack, like so many farmer girls over a bushel of broken eggs. Once every scrap of food was gone, Renee only laughed, occasionally kicking some supply out of reach, or accidentally stepping on and breaking some pencil. Then, the bell rang. “Ach, late again Adelaide. I personally prefer to skip first period, but I suppose for someone of your stature, tardiness can be quite a bother. You have my deepest consolations.” Adelaide, by this time, had begun to cry, though it was more out of anger than pain. She bit her lip, as the hot water formed at the back of her eyes. This kind of treatment had always been hard for someone of her position, but the real suffering came from her powerlessness to stop it. The daily humiliation was a well-established practice for the two. Slowly, time had worn away any hope she had of deliverance. Every authority which should have helped her did not care, every friend which should have taken her side did not exist, and every fight she started was ended quickly and painfully. All that remained now were hot tears and resignation. Eventually, Renee lay off, and Adelaide managed to stuff her backpack again. She then ran off to class in the foulest of tempers, as anyone who spoke to her would quickly discover. Being unable to retaliate against Renee directly, she daily took out all he frustrations on every other defenseless classmate. This was one of the largest reasons she was so unpleasant; being unable to forgive Renee, she was essentially unable to forgive the world, and, giving the world a good poke in the eye, it shortly returned the favor. Thus, the malice of one impoverished girl created bitterness in another rich girl, and that seed, once it flourished, left hardly a child in the school unchilled by its cold breath. The most unlikable people are usually the most miserable. Renee, meanwhile, continued to chuckle, and lay back against her locker. She rarely skipped any period but first, but she always skipped that. It was French, and she did not share it with Lucas, and so she saw it as both useless and unenjoyable, and would have none of it. Every day, however much her apathetic academic supervisors might grumble, she lounged in the hall, sometimes asleep, sometimes relaxing, but never, ever doing anything that could possibly be interpreted as work. On this particular day, she managed to drop off to sleep, and she lay peacefully on the floor, lightly snoring, until the aforementioned Lucas finally arrived at school. He, however, was not late. Lucas was never late, under any circumstances; everything he did, he did well, and that included commuting to school. His schedule simply began an hour later than Renee's. He was of a dark complexion, not quite white, but certainly not Eastern by any standards. He was simply tan, which went well with his dirty-blond hair, beautiful chestnut eyes, and pearly teeth. Despite this face, which should have belonged to some brimming socialite, he was not friendly. Grave far beyond his years, he rarely smiled, and spoke only what was necessary. He was the sort of student who spent his days in the background, thinking and working. He was also a remarkable football player. In short, he was either a jock who wanted to be a philosopher, or a philosopher who should have been a jock. As soon as he arrived, he made a bee-line for Renee, who was, to his delight, still asleep. Sleep, as many wise men have noted, is but a reflection of death, and nothing has a holy beauty like an unscarred body, prepared for burial. In the same way, sleep finds the innocence and purity of its object, and accentuates them, shrouding the sleeper in the invisible light from which angels are made. Renee's skin had never been softer, more radiant, than that morning, and her lips, supple and fair as they were, begged for a kind touch. As mentioned, Lucas smiling was Lucas undone, but his eyes still shown with the same kind light of the warmest smile. He was touched, his heart soaring among lofty clouds, as he considered this fairy in repose. After a while, he sighed, content, and tousled the girls hair. “Good morning, Renee.” Renee opened a sleepy eye, and smiled. “Good morning.” Most of us, when we think about middle-school, remember something about the terrors of young romance. There is something peculiar about the age that is at once shy and desperate, lusty and pious. Everyone reacts in their own way, but they all feel the same. They are desperate for companionship, and yet completely incapable of handling it. Loneliness and the self-loathing that results are the chief tormentors of the teenage crew, and those fleeting moments of success, seemingly trivial in retrospect, are the highlights of weeks, remembered for months. Thus, whether to banish the insecurity of singleness or to bask in the pleasure reserved for such relationships, the school's most shy jock and most impoverished princess had tied themselves together in the very nearly holy bonds of pretend matrimony. When the two had first gotten together, the school greeted the couple warmly, but whispered dubiously among themselves when backs were turned. The pairing seemed far too obvious, a match made more in opportunistic minds than heaven. One finds such couples often in high-school, and they have no more constancy than the social climate or hormonal season. However, whether this idea was borne of jealousy or of stereotyping, it ultimately proved untrue. Luke and Renee had maintained very warm relations for over a year, and if anything, their romantic fervor seemed to flourish with time. Luke seemed to lift, for Renee, that veil which separated him from the rest of the school, and Renee lost her edge, and blushed at the mere thought of directing an unkind thought toward Lucas. Their banter grew keener, more flattering, and more overt, as they shattered every discretionary rule in the proverbial book. This is not a love story, however, nor is it a school story, and we shall not dwell here long. All we need to know now is that, without hyperbole, Renee loved Luke more than most girls her age would have thought healthy, which, considering that she was fifteen, is saying something. She had been changed remarkably through knowing him; she was kinder, humbler, and happier in his presence. Even her enemies, and those who opposed romance in any form, had to step back and admit that the girl had begun to mature, or at least display pretensions at it, through this romance. After a time, Lucas stood up, Renee with him, and the two, leaning together, walked to the next class. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Meanwhile, as the lovers glowed in each others embrace, and while hundreds of other children went about their own lives, each with their own passions and terrors, desires and pains, too rich and complex for anyone but them to fully understand, a dark cloud was forming that would shatter them all. These hundred pools, deep with the warmth of youth and the potential of a long future ahead, would freeze under an unexpected frost. That frost took the form of a bird, alighting on the school. Over the entire house of cards, beautifully and delicately arranged, Heinrich stood, poised to knock the whole thing over. He carried a vial in his mouth, which he shattered on the school's roof-top. The solution, dirty brown like mud, began to steam, and melt away at the wood between it, and a very unfortunate man's head... Edited by Katsuko, Jan 3 2009, 03:27 PM.
	<3 All you need is love <3


Katsuko	Feb 20 2008, 12:58 PM Post #3
Sandopolis Act 1 Posts: 1,687 Group: S Rank Hero Member #1,933 Joined: August 14, 2007 Gender: Male	The Wife of the Consul Book I: For Me Chapter 3 In year of our lord eighteen hundred and seventy-six, in our world, the German psychologist Friederick Ponchst began a series of tests concerning the effects of stress on a human being. Five years later, he died a broken and penniless man, whose name, to those few who know it, will always be spoken with a laugh. Still, his results, as strange as they were, might go far to explain Adelaide's behavior shortly after leaving Renee. According to Mr. Ponchst, whose name never was honored by the title doctor, “If the subject is exposed to a brief period of intense emotional or physical stress, his digestive organs will immediately begin to function at three times their normal rate, whether they have any substance to digest or not. In short order, it is statistical fact that intense stress and excretory functions share a direct positive relationship. As my colleagues will no doubt understand, the applications of this are enormous. For instance, it is conceivable that self-harm might be used as a laxitive.”Adelaide affirmed this theory. Despite having nothing more than a glass of water and a power bar for breakfast, and absolutely no time to spare, she stopped at the restroom before going to class. “Damn her!” she screamed at the mirror, once she was alone. She was scrambling through her tiny pockets, and through the backpack, which, she now discovered, Renee had put a sizable rip in. She continued to throw profanities at the mirror as she further discovered that the only pieces of food that had been left behind were clearly articles which had been lost in the immensity of her backpack weeks before, and were now too rotten to tolerate. “Nothing, nothing again,” she moaned, “Always nothing. Doesn't matter if it's food, or grades, or boys, I get nothing.” She had started crying in earnest now, “And no one helps. That whore takes everything, and the rest just laugh to themselves. My own parents...” and she went on, complaining to the high heavens about all the shit she was so unfairly forced through, and how terribly lonely she was, and so on, and so forth. Meanwhile, someone sighed outside the door. Adelaide did not know it, but she had begun her futile search and rant at just the moment when Yvette chose to go to the restroom. Yvette was, like Adelaide, a fifteen year old girl. Other than that, however, she was as unlike the fitful teenager as anyone could be. She was very tall, and had proportionately long, brown hair. Her face, also, seemed stretched, like a horse's, and her two front teeth were so extraordinarily large that they could hardly have grown longer without preventing her from eating. She was always smiling, and this cheerfulness was reflected in the bright colors she dressed in. On this particular day, she wore a pastel green T-shirt, with a bright orange flower in the center, and a very bright pair of blue jeans. On her feet, she wore pink sandals. At last, she decided that she had heard about enough out of Adelaide, and, fighting her better judgment to wait for the girl to finish, she came, beaming as usual, into the restroom. “Oh, good morning Adelaide! Nice to see you! I hope I'm not intruding, or anything, but, well, this is the only restroom on the floor. Anyway, anything I can help with?” “What's good about it...” Adelaide mumbled, her back to Yvette. Yvette was taken slightly off guard, mostly because her “good morning,” had come at the beginning of her awkward shpeal, and her brain was still racing forward to what might be wrong. When she finally understood what Adelaide meant, she laughed. “Oh, well, that's not really a novel response, is it? Why not try something a bit more original, maybe a 'well, if this is your definition of good, you ought to find a nice high bridge and jump off it now,' or something along that line. Anyway, I guess today's good because I'm in school, none of my friends or relatives, or indeed myself, seem to be particularly ill, first period is almost over and...” “Why don't you go away. You're annoying me.” Adelaide spat. “Ah... Well, I'm sorry. I'll try to stop then, hehe. Um... you sure you won't tell me what's wrong though?” “Renee took my lunch, like she always does, and I'm hungry, and I'm sick of the Bleep, and I'm sick of no one giving a rip, alright? Look, we're both going to be late to second period physics, so why don't you just...” “Oh, Renee hm? Yeah, I've had a few bad encounters with her myself. I tell you what, I'm not all that hungry, so, you want to stop by my table at lunch, and I can lend you some of mine...” “Yeah, I'll stop by. See you then.” And without so much as a glance at Yvette, Adelaide was out the door, and on her way to physics. Just as she got into the classroom, however, her backpack ripped the rest of the way, and for the second time, Adelaide was reduced to picking up the scraps alone. Once again, the bell rang. Meanwhile, in science, the teacher was late, the class was in an uproarious state, and Renee was thoroughly enjoying a kiss. The ecstasy that Lucas gave her when his lips met hers was one she had known for a long time, but never grew tired of. It was more than simple pleasure, though there was plenty of that. It was a reminder that she had a place in life, that she somehow mattered. If she compared herself to the enormity of the universe, and, like so many others, felt small and worthless, all it took was Lucas’s arm around her shoulder to put things back into the correct proportion. In his world at least, she was at the center. Earlier, Adelaide’s pained face had given her a feeling like this kiss. It had made her powerful, and, in a twisted way, important to Adelaide. Yet, when she saw Adelaide come in the door, she cringed. Renee was unusually prone to guilt around Lucas, and Adelaide was the chief tormentor of her conscience. Adelaide was a spoiled misanthrope, who would have been twice the bully Renee was if she'd been given half a chance, and Renee knew it. Renee needed the food at least as much as Adelaide did, and if she threw in a cruel jibe or two, didn't Adelaide deserve it? Still, no matter what spin Renee gave it, the ecstasy of romance and the pleasure of kicking Adelaide’s ego didn’t seem to mesh. So, to displeasure on both sides, Renee pulled away from Lucas. “I'm sorry,” she muttered after an awkward moment, “Adelaide... you know. She's always been a little jealous, I guess. No need to torment her, right?” Lucas shrugged. “S'not our fault.” “Yeah, well, ce la vi.” Renee sighed. Lucas shrugged again, obviously not completely satisfied, but not willing to argue either. “Right. Well, it's odd that the Breslin's taking so long, eh? He's usually among the more punctual.” Lucas looked up at the clock. The teacher was indeed ten minutes late. “Hmmmm… yeah.” It’s amazing how heavy a silence can be in even the most cacophonous of places. However much the kids might have screamed, the silence with which Lucas greeted this remark made it a graveyard for Renee. “Look,” Renee muttered, “you can mope all you like, but you know I'm right. Besides, there's more to me than my lips...” “Right.” Honestly, Renee herself didn’t know why she cared. She loved being on top, and nothing proves one’s domination like the ability to hurt someone beneath. Even still, there was something about her love for Lucas that recoiled at Adelaide. It wasn’t as though he and her social desires were opposed. He was just as dirty, and manipulative with his inferiors. The cruelty simply didn’t sit well with her, for reasons she wasn’t consciously aware of. Renee had just opened her mouth to try again with dear Luke, when she heard her name mentioned in the clamor. She turned toward where it had come from, and quickly identified the speaker none other than Yvette. The lepite, as she was prone to be called because of her rabbit-teeth, was lecturing some red-headed girl about Adelaide. “Yes, I know she's irritating. Believe me, I do. She can be among the most blind, selfish, stupid, disagreeable people at this school, and I know that most of what she gets is the result of her own doing, but that's all the more reason to help her. She has all the same feelings, desires, fears as you and me, all the potential of any human creature. If we can just convince her that we do care for her, that she's not alone in this school. I'm sure that would make all the difference in the world to her. And see, there's the problem. What will she think if I try to convince her that I've lost my lunch, but that I really do care for her deeply...” Renee couldn’t help but chuckle. It was typical Yvette. She defended anyone and everyone, from the gnat you squished on the doormat, to Adelaide, all while informing you that you're quite right in calling them scum. She would impart her naïve view to everyone who would listen, and before she was done, her audience would generally “be moved,” just as this red-head seemed to be as she fell silent, and nodded, and started looking for her lunch. But, as Renee had noted, the “little kids,” as she called those who listened to Yvette, were always back to their normal, callous selves in a matter of hours. “I don’t know when that girl will give up,” Renee whispered to Lucas, “She never actually does anything that lasts, you know…” “Well… is there anything wrong with that?” muttered Lucas, still irritated “So she’s an idealist…” “Oh, no, of course not. I like it actually. It can be very uplifting when you’re looking for that sort of thing… but it’s empty jargon in the end. Perhaps even a little deceitful She pumps everyone's head full of lofty ideals with no reality in them, and it does no one any good.” Lucas nodded, “Yeah, I know… but still, if you’re the one under fire, it’s nice to hear someone defending you…” “Well… maybe… I personally wouldn’t think much of it. I don’t need anyone else telling me that the little bottom feeders that call themselves my enemies are wrong; but perhaps, those with frail little egos get some pleasure out of her… eh…preaching, and are better off.” “Yeah… well, we all have our ego boosts. Don’t make yourself out to be some sort of self-dependent…” Renee rolled her eyes, “I keep forgetting, you’re the world’s youngest Freudian. Who are we studying this week? Dr. Spock? Mr. Rogers? Honestly Lucas, I don’t see why you care so much that I disagree with Yvette. I mean, you even admit that it has no real substance to it… if I didn’t know better, I’d say she only does it to keep her in people's good grace. Popularity, you know, it...” “You're apathetic, and it's irritating,” Lucas interrupted, “Acting like you don't have any needs of your own, like you could be fine without anyone...” “Oh, so that’s it!” laughed Renee, “And here I thought you were honestly upset. Come on, Luke, hun. Of course everyone wants to be loved, but not everyone will be loved, and that's simple hard fact. You however, will always be cared for while I exist. There's nothing in the world like being loved by you. Yeah, I'm apathetic with Adelaide, but it's her own fault if she's lonely. Come on, just because I disagree with Yvette's overbearing altruism doesn't mean I don't need you...” Luke smiled in that sort of guilty, but pleased way that people do when they tell a secret the desperately wanted to tell. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry if I overreacted…” For a while, the two sat in silence again. But, this was a very different silence than before (it is amazing how very many types of silence there are); this was not an angry, or lonely silence. It was more the kind of silence that comes when there is nothing left to be said, and it is enough to simply be with someone. “Hiya!” said a voice behind Renee, breaking the silence “Hello, Yvette,” yawned Renee, without turning around, “that was quite a speech you gave over there. I already heard it once, and I don’t really want to hear it again, if it's all the same to you. But what is it?” “Oh nothing,” she said cheerfully, with her characteristic, toothy smile, “And I’m glad you heard. You really were kinda nasty... But that’s all behind us now, I’m sure!” she laughed. Adelaide, meanwhile, had spent all this time struggling with her backpack. As it turned out, stuffing all of her earthly possessions into a single bag was not an incredibly bright idea, especially when that bag was somehow damaged, as bags frequently are. By then, getting her smörgåsbord of books, papers, and overlooked month-old lunches to stay inside a ripped backpack was a feat of Herculean proportions. After a long struggle, punctuated by profanities, she had reduced what had once been a torn bag into a pile of smoldering scraps, which could have been anything from a backpack, to a boy-scout uniform in its past life. After struggling helplessly with the mess, she gave up, and had gone out in the hall. As soon as she saw what was on the floor, however, she froze, and screamed. For there, lying in pool of blood, was a corpse that had been Mr. Breslin. Edited by Katsuko, Jan 3 2009, 03:27 PM.
	<3 All you need is love <3


Katsuko	Feb 25 2008, 04:26 PM Post #4
Sandopolis Act 1 Posts: 1,687 Group: S Rank Hero Member #1,933 Joined: August 14, 2007 Gender: Male	The Wife of the Consul Book I: For Me Chapter 4 Adelaide sat in a corner, as far away from the bloody mass as she could get. The class stood around the body, silent in their stricken horror. Only Yvette was moving, as she hurried to the teacher’s side, and shoved him onto his back. An intense, acrid smell like old, burnt feces rose to greet the crowd. The teacher’s fur had all but disintegrated in places, where his marble-white skin was covered in blisters burnt so deeply, that the bone itself was showing. Even Yvette, who until now had shown unfailing courage, couldn’t stifle a cry. Adelaide gave a great, heaving moan when she saw the corpse, and began to weep silently into the wall. Yvette backed clumsily away from the teacher, and tripped over her own feet, onto her tail-bone. Without so much as flinch, she shoved, and crawled away. “Get back!” she panted, “Th-that’s no act of violence…” she shuddered, her terror-stricken face almost as pale of the skeletal figure before her, “That’s a disease. Those holes are virucula, the warts created by a virus.” The class stared blankly on. “Damn it… that means it might be contagious! Get away from it!” the hare screamed. Instantly, the class disintegrated into a mob, some running back into the classroom, and some struggling to get past the body, and into the main hall. All were screaming, and all had forgotten about everything but themselves. In a few minutes, only Yvette, Renee, Lucas, and Adelaide remained in the hall. Streaked, crimson paw-prints led every other direction, and by now the smell of old blood had joined that of the necrotic virus. Only Renee and Lucas seemed unmoved by the horror. “Idiot…” Renee muttered, “Now you’ve got them rushing off to their parents, or who knows where. If they were infected by whatever this is-and I’m not convinced that this is a disease by the way, and it was very foolish to presume-You should have had the brains to keep them in one spot, at least until they could be quarantined.” Lucas bit his lip, but said nothing. Yvette shook her head. “It’s not a virus, I don’t think,” she said after a while, “I… I just needed them out of here. I don’t know what caused this, but obviously it’s not something we need to be messing with. If we had any brains at all we’d be following them, but…” “But you stayed back to help Breslin if you could,” finished Lucas, “I understand. I’ll stay back here, and address the blisters; you get to the office and…” Yvette nodded, and rushed off. And, with these words, Lucas sat down by the body’s side, and began to address his vital signs. One by one, the facts rose up, and declared the creature dead. Renee stared down at the body, her eyes glazed over, and far away. Only Adelaide still lay quivering the corner, oblivious to what went on around her. “I..I’ve never even seen death before,” she whispered between incoherent sobs. Her fingers, and face were numb. She couldn’t feel her feet, and all she could see, no matter where she looked, or how tightly she closed her eyes, was her old history teacher, deformed and dead. “I feel sick,” she gasped, as she felt her stomach. “Oh please… please, I don’t want to vomit…” Renee’s eyes suddenly sharpened, as she looked over at the trembling girl. She bit her lip, and tried to hold down her frustration. Adelaide was pitiful. With a dead man here, there wasn’t time to be wrapped up in their own trauma. They had to do something. “Shush,” she sighed, as she walked over to the girl, and sat down beside her. Without saying a word, she wrapped an arm around the trembling child, and drew her close. Gently, she stroked her back. “Listen Adelaide,” said Renee, “You need to calm down now. It won’t do to panic. We may have to help Mr. Breslin when Yvette comes back…” “No we won’t,” began Lucas, but Renee shut him up with a glare. Adelaide, still quivering, buried her face in Renee’s side. “Why here? she groaned, “And why him? Wh-what did this?” “We didn’t do anything, and we don’t know what killed him.” Said Renee, softly, but with a certain edge to her voice, “It looks like he might have been burned, or maybe even electrocuted. His fur’s been singed off and...” Adelaide didn’t seem to hear her. “Why…” she sobbed, over, and over again. “Adelaide!” said Renee, as she shook the girl, “Stop it! We didn’t do anything! Nothing! You hear me?” Adelaide said nothing, and kept on sobbing. Renee slapped the girl, and started to shout, “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Damn it Adelaide, look at him! Look at his body! We don’t know what did that to him, and it might still be here! We have to be vigilant, do you hear me? We can’t…” Adelaide’s face flushed with rage, as she started to scream over Renee, “I can’t! I can’t look at him, and I can’t help it!” she screamed through tears, “And I’m sick of you! I’m sick of everything! I d-don’t want it anymore… I don’t want to see anymore.” Her voice cracked, and Adelaide fell back, sobbing again. Renee stood up, and stuck her thumb-nail into her mouth. She wandered aimlessly, as her eyes glazed over again. Lucas was still attending to the body, his back to the other two. A few minutes later, Yvette appeared back at the far end of the hall, even more frightened looking than when she had left. “It’s not just him,” she said quietly, as she glanced nervously around the school, “it’s happened all over the school. The office was full of screaming kids. The police are coming, and they’re going to take us home but…” “Breslin’s dead.” Said Luke. “No hope?” “None.” Yvette nodded gravely. “Alright…” she said quietly, “They’ll be out in front soon.” Edited by Katsuko, Jan 3 2009, 03:30 PM.
	<3 All you need is love <3


Katsuko	Feb 27 2008, 12:35 PM Post #5
Sandopolis Act 1 Posts: 1,687 Group: S Rank Hero Member #1,933 Joined: August 14, 2007 Gender: Male	Wife of the Consul Book I: For Me Chapter 5 When the doorbell sounded, Hugo was taking a well-deserved nap on his triple-mattress. The cushions, covered as they were in the finest silks, were extravagantly luxurious in their own right, but were notably lacking any sort of furniture. This had nothing to do with a lack of funds, or respect for Hugo (Adelaide’s parents, whatever else they may have been, were very generous to their servants), but evidence of his girth. He had broken three pieces already, and said no to a fourth. As he put it, “However much more comfortable I might be on a true bed, nothing could make up for the horrendous experience of waking up to the great sound of cracking wood, and then a great fall to the ground. When you’re as large as I, such falls are very fast, very frightening, and very painful.” Needless to say, the butler was not expecting visitors. So, when the obnoxious alarm went off (Adelaide’s mother was fond of eccentric oddities, especially loud oddities, such as a door-bell once used at an industrial fire-station), Hugo fairly lept up from his sleep and flew. Had he been several years older, it is very likely that his frightened heart would have stopped beating then and there, and Adelaide would have been left shivering in the winter wind. As it was, Hugo fell with a crash onto the floor, where he lay gasping for at least a minute. He probably would have lain there longer, but the great siren went off again. A chandelier above Hugo’s head trembled in the blast of the sound, and the man struggled to his feet with great anxiety indeed. “I hear you! I’m on my way! Oh please, for heaven sake, don’t blare that thing again!” But the men outside apparently didn’t hear him. On this third blast, Hugo thought he heard the tinkle of some shattering china, far off in another room. Before he could react, the siren went off yet again. Obviously, the men outside were a little too amused for the good of his household. This was hardly a rare occurrence; I invite you to imagine what would happen if you rang a strange door-bell one day, and were greeted with a noise as long, shrill, and loud as a Cold War nuclear-attack alarm, and had the option of ringing however long or often as you liked. By the time Hugo got to the door, he was extremely angry with whoever his inconsiderate visitors were, and with Mrs. Thenardier for installing the wretched horn. He wrenched the door open with a huff, his billowing cheeks and bruised forehead bright red. They went just as quickly white, however, as the biting, snowy wind blew across his face, and he saw who was waiting for him. Outside, four policemen (all stifling a shocked sort of laughter), were standing on the doorstep, and two police cars sat like invading ships in a defeated harbor. Hugo saw none of this, however; all that he could see was a small, shivering, short, cat-faced girl between them, wide-eyed, and silent. This latter fact was particularly disturbing; for as long as Hugo had known the girl, her lips had been together roughly a fifth of her waking hours, and most of that had to do with the forming of consonants. Hugo swallowed, as his anger evaporated. “Officers…” he said in as stately a voice as he could manage in his perplexed and frightened state of mind, “I-I most sincerely beg your pardon but… but, but but… has dear mistress Adelaide caused any sort of…” “No.” said one of the men sharply. The laughter had gone completely from their faces now, “I’m afraid there has been a shooting at your daughter’s school. The killer is still, to our knowledge, abroad, and the school is being evacuated. We have other students to deposit sir, and we have no time. If you have any questions, you are encouraged to ask the girl.” Hugo stepped aside, not bothering to correct the policeman when he called Adelaide his daughter. For a moment, Adelaide didn’t seem to understand what was going on around her. She stood stupidly for a moment, her eyes glazed and far off, before she was shoved, not unkindly, into the house. Hugo shut the door behind her, and placed a gentle hand on her back. He did not speak. Adelaide was acting completely out of character; he had never seen her like this. She was small, and scared, hardly the proud, strong-willed girl he had known before. The closest she came to this were the depressed-spells she had between her angry tantrums. Adelaide sat down on the first couch they came to, and lay down. Hugo draped a blanket over her so that only her face, ragged and dripping from the snow, peeped above the bundle. The man sat beside the girl. She didn’t even glance at him, but gave a long, slow, pitiful whine. Hugo, meanwhile, saw to her hair, straightening it with a gentle finger, and to her face, which he covered with a warm towel. As close as the two were, this was a new experience. Adelaide would never have condescended before. For what seemed hours, they sat thus, sharing their warmth, their comfort, and their love. After a while, the butler broke the silence. “Did you see it?” he asked in the gentlest voice. Adelaide was silent for a while. Then, she blinked, and became aware of her tongue. She licked her lips, swallowed, and then in a very slow, very quiet voice said, “He wasn’t shot. I don’t know why he said he was… I… I don’t know what happened to him.” “Who?” Adelaide shook her head, and closed her eyes. After a moment, “My history teacher, Mr. Breslin. We… I mean… Renee and I… we found him out in the hall. He was burnt or… or s-something. Blood was everywhere, and his eyes were gone, and…” Adelaide choked, as tears formed at her eyelids again. Hugo’s own eyes had watered, as he drew the wolf into his breast in an enormous embrace. “You poor thing,” he whispered. Adelaide began to quiver under him, as she relapsed back into tears. ~~~~ Several hours later, as the sun dipped behind the horizon, Hugo and Adelaide were still sitting on the same couch, talking quietly about what had happened. Adelaide had regained much of her former self, though she still showed some signs of shock. “Damn it,” whispered Adelaide after a silence, “My head hurts so bad right now…” “You have a fever.” said Hugo, who had never let go of her, “The stress must be getting to you. We can talk more about this tomorrow. You should get to bed, and get some sleep…” Adelaide nodded, and rose, shakily to her feet. Scarcely had she left Hugo’s embrace, however, than she gave a cry. Her legs collapsed from under her, and she fell in a heap on the floor. In an instant Hugo was beside her. The girl was unconscious, and all over her body, hundreds of tiny red blisters began to pop out of yellow, sick skin. Edited by Katsuko, Jan 3 2009, 03:31 PM.
	<3 All you need is love <3


wowzaa1	Feb 27 2008, 07:19 PM Post #6
You are never quite the person you think you are Posts: 3,081 Group: E Rank Legend Member #4,510 Joined: December 22, 2007	I cant believe I havent read this before!! Its great!! One of my own characters is named Luke, except he is a dog.



Cy-Fox	Feb 29 2008, 04:20 AM Post #7
We are still watching Posts: 3,486 Group: =SB= Kings Member #3,975 Joined: November 29, 2007 Gender: Male Country: United States of America Steam ID: cy-fox	claps hands Superb!



Katsuko	Mar 4 2008, 02:48 PM Post #8
Sandopolis Act 1 Posts: 1,687 Group: S Rank Hero Member #1,933 Joined: August 14, 2007 Gender: Male	Wife of the Consul Book I: For Me Chapter 6 To say that Adelaide saw black would not be accurate, because it implies that she was aware of what she was seeing. The world had not faded around her, as she sunk back into some murky plane. She had simply stopped understanding anything and everything. She didn’t know that she was hurt, or fear that it would get worse, or know what she was seeing if she saw anything. She did not think, or feel. In fact, as far as Adelaide’s brain was concerned, she had ceased to exist. When she finally returned to her senses, she didn’t have the slightest idea how long she had been out, who she was, where she was, or what she was doing there. All she knew is that she would have liked to look away from glaring ceiling light burning holes in her cornea, but her neck didn’t seem to be able to move. Her whole body seemed to be trapped under some kind of almighty weight. She wasn’t even sure if she was blinking. She didn’t know it (or much of anything else), but this was actually a blessing to the wolf. Had her superficial nervous system been in proper working order, she would have been able to feel all the blackened, bloody holes which riddled her broken body, and that probably would have sent her back into the unconscious, or else destroyed what little stability was left in her mind. Just as Adelaide was beginning to wonder if this was the heaven she seemed to remember talking about, she heard a noise to her left. It was the sound of a door opening, and it was shortly followed by an unfamiliar male voice. “Yes, she’s alive, and likely to remain so. I’m not sure how; she’s only one of four to do so, and the night’s not over yet, but the concentration of the destructive virus in her blood stream is definitely on a down-hill slope. However, studies of the other three suggest that although she’s apparently developed some sort of immunity to the actual pathogen, she will continue to be a host to the more dormant form into the foreseeable future. As such, orthodox measures aren’t likely to get us anywhere.” Adelaide wondered who the man was talking about. He didn’t seem to like her, whoever she was. He might have been discussing a particularly nasty weed that had grown up in his yard. “Ah. Her eyes are open,” said the voice, “How peculiar…” A moment later, a heavily whiskered middle-aged man blocked out the irritating light above. He looked like he was around 50 years old, and wore the white lab-coat of a doctor, and a mask which hid most of his face. The doctor slowly waved a hand around her face, which Adelaide thought was rather annoying, and then he drew out a flash-light, which he shone straight into her already irritated eyes, which Adelaide thought was very annoying. If she had been able to, she probably would have poked his eye, to see how he liked it. “She’s in shock.” he announced, “A typical second stage for survivors. She’s at least in stable condition. We just need to get these burns treated now, and she’ll be fine. Still, the matter remains about the virus. What will we tell her parents?” “They’ve already been informed of the condition,” said a sharp, matter-of-fact female voice, “and will be here momentarily. We’ll just have to explain the situation to them, and hope that they agree with our conclusions. If they don’t, we’ll simply have to take her anyway. She can’t be allowed out.” The doctor had by then gotten out of Adelaide’s line of vision, but she could recognize his voice, as it trailed off. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. How soon can we expect them to be here?” And with that, the door shut, and Adelaide knew she was alone again. So, she was the person in question. In that case, she seemed to have suddenly gotten very sick, and it seemed that she was in a hospital being treated for something which might have killed her. She tried very hard to remember what exactly the disease was… Adelaide’s heart-rate grew exponentially, as she started to gasp. She remembered what had happened. Then, just as quickly, she forgot; she did not want to remember the trauma, and for now at least, she could slink back into the comfort of psychic non-existence. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Adelaide awoke, she was on her side, and this time she had not forgotten anything. She understood all too clearly why she was in a hospital, why she could not move, and why her mother, several doctors, and Hugo were standing in the door-way, talking. The only thing she didn’t know was where her father was. Her mother was a well-bred woman of good features. She was tall (but not too tall), slim (but not skinny), and covered in the finest kinds of apparel. She wore a blue silk dress, the kind one might wear to a particularly extravagant party, which, as it happens, was where Mrs. DuPonte was when she received the call. “I don’t care, Hugo.” she was saying, “You may assert all the conspiracy theories you like, but as for me, I don’t really care what they do to her. If she’s still infectious, as these doctors seem to think, I don’t want her anywhere near me. Besides,” she shrugged, waving a long cigarette as though to bat away an unwelcome fly, “If they can cure her, what favors would I be doing her by saying no?” Hugo was very red in the face. His fists were clenched, and his jaws were clamped so tightly together that he seemed to have trouble loosening them to talk. “You know, as well as I do,” he said at last, “That nothing they’ve said makes sense and is almost certainly a pack of lies, that there’s nothing they can provide that this hospital hasn’t done already, and that there’s a one in two chance that if we give her up now, we’ll never see her again.” Adelaide was back in her senses, but the reality she had woken up to seemed more like a dream than anything that had come before. She didn’t understand. Surely her mother wasn’t thinking of leaving her behind in such squalor? She struggled with all her might to speak, to move. She exhausted herself, desperately begging her body to obey. But her efforts were futile, worthless, pitiful wastes of energy; no matter how hard she pushed, her body was a cold and unfeeling brick. “And what if I don’t?” said Mrs. DuPonte with a yawn, “She’s never done me anything but empty my wallet and waste my time. You can stay and risk death if you like, Hugo, but I for one agree with the professionals.” At this point, the woman turned to leave, and Adelaide’s heart burst within her. All she said, however, was a very weak “mother…” And then, at last her body gave in, and in one great effort, she rolled off the bed, onto the floor, and into thoughtlessness that was much less black than reality. Edited by Katsuko, Jan 3 2009, 03:32 PM.
	<3 All you need is love <3


Tux	Mar 9 2008, 10:24 AM Post #9
Donning the Outfit Posts: 1,863 Group: S Rank Hero Member #1,450 Joined: June 23, 2007	Whoo....! Quite the rush I received reading the installments, heh. It started real smooth in the beginning, Adelaide waking up to go to school with her friends and boyfriend (Or was that Renee? I forget XP). Typical school day, full of frolic and whatnot, then it happens. I expected a "Bully Event", but this one caught me by surprise. A teacher is dead, and the children are stricken in confusion and fear. Now, who done it, is the real question. Incredible story here, miss.
	GOT THE WHOLE WORLD AHEAD OF YA, KID.


Katsuko	Apr 1 2008, 05:40 PM Post #10
Sandopolis Act 1 Posts: 1,687 Group: S Rank Hero Member #1,933 Joined: August 14, 2007 Gender: Male	Thanks! Unfortunately, now I have to put this on pause. I'm moving in a little more than a month, and will have little time to update )..= See you all in a couple of months!
	<3 All you need is love <3


Lord Tora Unlimited Crusader	Aug 21 2008, 02:17 AM Post #11
【The Knight of Tigers 】 Posts: 5,462 Group: Former Monarchs Member #6,733 Joined: March 17, 2008 Gender: Male Country: Australia 3DS Friend Code: 0404-6433-6113 Steam ID: crusaderandtimothy	I am most impressed by this work. Excellent structure, grammar, spelling, suspense, etc. You deserve victory music! Final Fantasy 7 Victory Fanfare
	Check out my tumblr, Aggravated Anime-Adoring Australian, where I post all sorts of dumb screencaps and MS Paint edits and generally bitch and moan about stupid otaku shit. ~One third of =SB='s Legendary Australian Trio. The man who surpassed anime fandom and became the Patron Saint of GAR and Moe.~


Tux	Aug 28 2008, 06:43 PM Post #12
Donning the Outfit Posts: 1,863 Group: S Rank Hero Member #1,450 Joined: June 23, 2007	EPIC FINAL FANTASY VICTORY MUSIC SHALL BE PLAYED. looks at above post Dang it, already beaten to it, XD. You take your time now, I know how the year's gonna be, XD. DO NOT DESTROY THIS! WHOEVER DOES WILL FACE ME IN MORTAL KOMBAT!!
	GOT THE WHOLE WORLD AHEAD OF YA, KID.


Lord DragonFlame	Sep 3 2008, 10:26 AM Post #13
Christmas is back again Posts: 17,411 Group: Former Monarchs Member #348 Joined: December 9, 2006 Gender: Male Steam ID: Warzak85DF	Well then what could i possible add to this. First of all, i regret not reading this earlier. It's exciting with any normal days presence by heading to school. The question about their teacher being late would soon leave them with a shock. And all i can say. Damn good work on shaping their expression in all different ways but all is taken hard on it's current situation. Couldn't think this will end at this moment. Please continue whenever you can. This is by far more interesting then i ever thought in first place.
	Working on banner, but if your looking to have some time off. Come, visit my channel on youtube. Warzak85DF's Let's Play corner


Katsuko	Sep 7 2008, 05:31 PM Post #14
Sandopolis Act 1 Posts: 1,687 Group: S Rank Hero Member #1,933 Joined: August 14, 2007 Gender: Male	Wife of the Consul Book I: For Me Chapter 7 When Adelaide awoke, she was no longer in the hospital. That much was obvious, although where she had been moved to was less clear. As she groaned and opened her eyes, she was confronted by darkness as thick as ink. “Damn it…” the wolf muttered, as she groped around, struggling to stand up. The floor beneath her was hard, cold and metallic, probably steel by the rough feel of it. It was vibrating; evidently, Adelaide was in a truck, and that truck was going somewhere. As Adelaide struggled to get her bearings, her head slammed into a wall. Apparently, her sense of pain had returned. She reeled back and clutched her head, as she tried to steady herself against the dizzying injury. Her pathetic groan echoed around what was apparently a small, enclosed room. She quickly regret the whimper, however, as something like fire rippled up her throat. “Damn!” she hissed a second time, as a hand flew up. Her neck, she found, was slightly wet and very coarse. It reacted to pressure with more pain, bringing about another cringe in the shivering wolf. As silent tears forced their way out, she discovered several such patches, each one an excruciating sore, and began to understand. She had been afflicted by the same power that tore Breslin apart and somehow survived. She had been reduced to a bloody, broken scrap of life, but had somehow been kept from the abyss. She was left now in a weak, crippled, and still very much hurt body, taken from her parents, from her life, from everything and everyone she knew. As the full realization of this was sinking in on Adelaide, Something rustled in the corner. Adelaide was on her feet in a moment. “H-hello?” As Adelaide’s eyes adjusted, she began to see a huddled form in the back. The thing rustled more, and then groaned as its absolutely massive bulk rolled into a sitting position. Hugo, apparently, was with her. “Adelaide?” The voice was darker than what Adelaide was used to in the man, perhaps angry, even dangerous, but it was him! She had not lost everything. “Hugo…” Adelaide struggled, though unsuccessfully, to make her way over without agitating any of her many cankers. After a long struggle, she found herself crawling into the warm pillow of his side. For a good while she was quiet, looking up at him with more daughterly affection than she had ever managed in the day-to-day routine of what had been her life. After a good while, she asked, “Where are we?” “We are in a federal transport, en route to a scientific containment center in an unknown location, where they will lock us up, and study your disease. The medical staff, for whatever reason, decided that you could not be released to the public, and the government got itself involved. Don’t ask me how, and don’t ask me why.” “But my mother…” “As you well know, your mother doesn’t give a rat’s ass about you, and your father is a coward. He couldn’t even muster enough courage to see you at the hospital. He didn’t even talk to your mother about what was to be done. The toad would sooner shoot himself and his children than...” “Stop it!” Adelaide burst out, as she fell into a fit of tears. This was not Hugo. This was a cold and hateful man, not the warm and tender caretaker she had known so many years. Hugo’s voice here was indifferent yet cutting, like some icy judgment from some fiery priest, an unfeeling arbiter. “Stop it…” the wolf moaned, “Y-you don’t know what you’re talking about… You don’t know! I know my father did everything he could, even if it wasn’t enough…” Adelaide sniffed and sobbed on, as Hugo kept still in silence. “It’s not fair… It’s not fair. I didn’t do anything, and… and I deserve a normal life, normal friends, normal parents, just like everyone… Why…why should…” Hugo sighed, and wrapped an arm around the girl. His voice softened, but his tone was stern as ever. “There is no why. There is no reason that this has happened. There’s everything and everyone to blame, but there is nothing to do about it, except wait for dead and apathetic fate to change it. Tears will only weaken you… and resentment can’t hurt your parents now, however unforgivable their wrongs were. We’ll both have to drain ourselves of emotion, and face this head-on.” Adelaide continued to sniffle to herself, emptying herself of what little energy she had left. Slowly but surely she drained herself of the will to mourn. She calmed, after a while, and lay a head on Hugo’s side, and sighed. Then, she asked, “Hugo… why are you here?” “I refused to let them simply send you off. I wouldn’t see such an injustice done, but I couldn’t stop it, any way I chose to resist. With your mother’s consent, I had no legal ground to stand on; you are, in every legal meaning of the word, a charge of the UCD Foster-Child-Care Administration. So, I resisted physically, and, not wanting a scene, the agents agreed to negotiate with me. In the end, we decided that if I came quietly, I would be taken with you.” “I-I see… But, why? Why such a fight?” Adelaide knew very well why, of course, but she wanted to hear it. “You shouldn’t have to ask. You are a daughter to me, Adelaide, and I’ve come to stop every blow as far as it is within my power, and to soften every pain I can’t prevent. I’m here to be your companion, your warmth and light in what is likely to be the coldest, and darkest of dungeons.” For the remainder of the trip, Adelaide and Hugo kept close together, silent, but no longer alone, and that, as my reader probably knows, can make all the difference. Fear, pain, grief, and all the burdens that are inherent to life become infinitely lighter if there is only a sympathetic shoulder to share it with. After a long while, the buzz of the truck’s engine fell silent, and they came to a halt. They heard a door open in one direction, and the shuffling of something outside the truck. Then, a soft psssssst filled the truck, and Adelaide and Hugo began to suddenly feel very, very tired. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The United Vulpine Dominion, or the UVD as it is often referred to is the largest country in Nur’Beaux. The UVD encompasses the entire northern region of the continent, and extends nearly to the equator. To its immediate south, Falston, its chief rival, is the second largest country, and takes up most of the land in the southern extremities of the continent. Small, relatively powerless countries, of varying governments and cultures, take up the rest of the planet’s land-space. As far as these things go, the UVD was possibly the best country to live in at the time. While its neighbors lived on in drudgery under the iron eyes of tyrants, it prized liberalism as its highest value, and had a long history of defending liberty more fiercely than any other in history (though only within its own borders). It was the only remaining democratic country on the continent. With this unique characteristic, it had quickly become one of the most powerful and successful nations in history. Capitalism brought it wealth, while the unusual patriotism of its citizens had won at least one war with virtually every neighboring civilization. By the time Adelaide was born, the UVD was uncontested master of Nur’Beaux, economically and militarily. However, even the freest states have governments, and governments love to work behind the backs of their citizens. The UVD’s was particularly fond of this guilty pleasure. One of the many programs the UVD ran was centered on its southernmost border, in the blaring heat of Bolingbroke Desert. The small, isolated military complex it ran there appeared very small from the surface. It seemed to be little more than an empty 50 acre lot of land, surrounded by an electric fence, and patrolled by the occasional guard. The only building was a small, square, steel brick of a building in the very center of the square, topped by the blue UVD flag. As my reader will shortly see, however, the complex was much, much more than this. At precisely 20:00 hours, typical military van pulled into the entrance. Two men in black uniforms unlatched the back and carried a limp girl into the building. Eight returned later, and carried a very fat man in after her. Edited by Katsuko*, Jan 3 2009, 03:35 PM.
	<3 All you need is love <3


Lord Tora Unlimited Crusader	Sep 10 2008, 01:50 AM Post #15
【The Knight of Tigers 】 Posts: 5,462 Group: Former Monarchs Member #6,733 Joined: March 17, 2008 Gender: Male Country: Australia 3DS Friend Code: 0404-6433-6113 Steam ID: crusaderandtimothy	Super-special-awesome plot twist of the week; Adelaide's mother is a (word used to describe a female dog, but may also be utilised as a derogatory term)! It's like reading Harry Potter or A Series Of Unfortunate Wastes of Time, only much less deadly than Potter and much less boring than Unfortunate. Bravo!
	Check out my tumblr, Aggravated Anime-Adoring Australian, where I post all sorts of dumb screencaps and MS Paint edits and generally bitch and moan about stupid otaku shit. ~One third of =SB='s Legendary Australian Trio. The man who surpassed anime fandom and became the Patron Saint of GAR and Moe.~


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