Fairy Tail RPG |
神 Administrators: {{Inara Serra}} {{Mazohyst}} 主 Global moderators: {{Ajimeister}} 座 Guild Librarian {{Fumus}} {{Sachio Hanabe}} 裁 Mission Moderators: {{Kanna}} {{Reya Starylight}} {{Hadou}} 司 Librarians: {{Potato}} {{Mango}} {{Grond}} |
FTG Staff |
{{Fairy Tail RPG Rules}} {{Fairy Tail RPG News}} {{Character Creation Template}} {{Character Modification Template}} {{Mission Creation}} {{Mission Request}} {{Grading Request Topic}} {{Guild Members}} {{Item Creation}} {{FTG and You: The Guide 3.0}} {{Project Jumpstart: For Newbies!}} |
| The Glory Incarnate | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Dec 21 2017, 10:51 AM (91 Views) | |
| 裁 kanna | Dec 21 2017, 10:51 AM Post #1 |
|
Complete Trash
![]()
|
For seventy-one days and seventy nights, Kanna endured a horrible lifestyle of her own accord – for the duration of the allotted time, she was not allowed to eat more than a single piece of loaf bread daily, which starved her body; she was not allowed to have more than sixteen ounces of clean drinking water daily, which weakened her body even more; she was not allowed to sleep more than two hours per day, exhausting herself to the point of delusion; she was not allowed sunlight but for thirty minutes every three days, paling her flesh further yet keeping what little sanity she held onto; and the worst of it all, she was locked inside a concrete room that was only six feet by six feet, leaving her little to no room to be active save for a weekly exercise of one hour. She slept on the floor with a ruined blanket that was holed and tattered, barely enough to cover her petite form, and during the days, it was sweltering while the nights were frigid, much like a desert not constructed of sand, but manufacture material. Yet it was not all for naught as she was released on the seventy-first day, emerging as something she wasn’t when she began her metamorphosis. The Lady was given a week’s preparation where she could bathe properly, eat a full meal, and gain a few extra hours of sleep but she kept quite a strict regiment, not wanting to waste her time spent in the makeshift prison. Annually, Kanna did this to herself, for she would be spending seven days in the slums of Dandelion where she met with the unscrupulous type that inhabited such places. There, she would be unrecognizable; there, she could commit crime without retribution; and there, she could be true to herself as a person without morality or etiquette. There, in Dandelion, she could simply be whomever she desired while also gaining invaluable information and contracting with people she was not to be associated with. It was the perfect vacation for a type such as herself. With the week over, Mary packed a few ragged clothes, hid monies in various locations of her luggage, and readied her Lady for the vacation she was eager to begin. The two traveled together to Dandelion, or rather, the outskirts of Dandelion where the two were released into the wild – no, not really, but to Mary, it most certainly was. She wasn’t the outdoors-y type to begin with and she had never enjoyed Kanna’s choice of vacation spots but this was her duty as her Lady’s maiden and so, she sucked it up without so much as a peep. They moved into the poorly populated place where Mary was clothed in rags, her face streaked with a light dusting of mud, and her hair was in shambles, something she truly loathed with every fibre of her being. Disgusted by those that surrounded them, she forced herself to play her part, gulping loudly when someone got too close or offered ”cheap meats” that were mysterious and better left to the imagination rather than trying to identify why they were so cheap or what they really were. She was extremely skeptical of those meats and eyed them suspiciously while also being intrigued. Kanna, on the other hand, was full of exuberance and life, a stupid smile was plastered over her gaunt features and her eyes, though dull and lackluster, sparkled with a passion that was rarely ever witnessed. The minute amount of luggage they had was packed in three bags – two of which held clothing and monies, while the third was a mere tote that Kanna had for her knitting instruments and really cheap yarn that wasn’t worth what money she did spend on it. But, she really liked knitting so, it was essential to have. The first day was spent in a shoddy hole in the wall down Orphan’s Row where the two did much of nothing until nightfall where Kanna indulged herself with a few hours of debauchery in the manner of killing and consuming two residents before returning to the shack with a full belly as well as becoming quite high-spirited, high enough that Mary was completely entertained. The second day went as the first but at dusk, the two were to meet with a contractual obligation at a bar not far from where they were staying – something called The Mouse’s Ear or something else, The Camal’s Ass; honestly, neither of them really knew but it had something to do with an animal and said animal’s body part. It wasn’t the worst bar in the world, wasn’t the greatest either, but it served alcohol and had an abundance of shady people coming to and fro so they wouldn’t be noticed one way or another. Kanna wore a loose-fitting blue shirt that had dark stains littering the front, possibly from blood, and a pair of pants that were stained as well and two sizes too big. Her face was more slender than normal, her retched blue eyes were outlined with shades of red – a definite sign of sleep deprivation – and her ivory hair was messily tied into two on either side of her shoulders. Bringing along her knitting bag, she sat, with the disheveled Mary, in a corner booth where they were to meet their associate and ordered a bottle of mediocre whisky. When the associate arrived, a burly fellow with scars and odd markings that didn’t make any sense, Mary excused herself to speak with him while Kanna minded her business, sipping on a dirty glass of mind-numbing alcohol while knitting what appeared to be the beginning of a scarf made of cheap crimson yarn. A small man with an empty cup soon approached her, begging for a bit of whisky as he was far too poor to afford such a fine year, or so he said, but as she mindlessly stared at him, stopping all progress on her scarf, she stated, “If you don’t get away from my table, I will drink your arterial blood instead of this whisky.” The man chuckled as a retort which didn’t please Kanna and before she had the chance to rid herself of this nuisance, Mary returned with a slight smirk on her lips but it disappeared right after seeing the tiny man bothering her Lady. Once again, Mary left - only this time, with the annoying man being forced to go with her by having a piece of metal shoved harshly into his side as they exited the bar into the darkness outside. From there, only they and the heavens above knew what transpired but Kanna would be left to her devices as she refocused her attention back to the glory that was knitting. This was becoming a wonderful vacation, absolutely Glory Incarnate. |
![]() |
|
| 竜 Mazohyst | Dec 23 2017, 04:17 AM Post #2 |
|
Stay the course.
![]()
|
A roil of thick, gray fog blanketed the city. From a distant view, only the tallest of buildings could be seen, each just barely jutting through the tremendous swathe of fog, bringing with it an all-too common sense of dreariness. Such a sensation was common here in Dandelion. In fact, one could say it permeated the air. With each breath, you could almost swear the dreariness practically your lungs. A more logical mind would point to the industrial pollutants in the hazy air, or simply the acrid smell of back alley bum piss. Maybe it was just the bodies rotting in the sewers? The smell and the cold were both inescapable. In all honesty, the city itself was very much inescapable, too. For one man, that rang especially true. Try as he might, Artorius was never able to leave this miserable city. Time and time again, it kept on bringing him back into its cold, unloving embrace. He remembered the chaotic days of his youth -- where the solution to everything was a knife in the heart or a needle in the arm. Moreover, he remembered how bad he wanted to run away from it. But, each time he ran, he found himself coming back to this shithole. Now, more than ever, he was bound to this place. Nine Lives. A guild. A family. A fuckload of responsibility. Granted, Artorius now had purpose, but there was always a part of himself in the back of his mind that kept telling him to pack his bags and run. "Relationships are ropes, kid," his Uncle would always tell him. "And love is a noose," Artorius said aloud, cigarette smoke and condensation coming off cracked lips. The statement lingered in his mind for a moment, long enough to remember her. He drowned the thought in smoke and booze, flicking off the cap to his flask not more than two breaths later. But it did not sate the thought, nor the others that nagged at him like a mosquito on his neck. Between managing a guild of outcasts, a crime-ridden city, a volatile war, and a slew of personal problems, life had become hectic for Artorius. It was a miracle his hair hadn't gone gray, or he hadn't drank himself into complete, irreversible idiocy. The latter, however, he was working on. With an empty flask and a liver that hadn't been properly punished enough for the day, Artorius was a man on a mission. He considered his usual haunts at first. The Laughing Vagabond was his usual choice, but it was frequented by his guildmates. He needed space away from them to de-stress. Needless to say, his guild home's own alcohol stock was far from his first choice. Inevitably, Artorius found himself on Orphan's Row -- the city's center for dirty, abused children and cantankerous drunkards. You can't forget the killers and thieves either. Strangely, it was here that Artorius felt most at home, for it was on these streets where the man had come of age. Cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he walked, the man eventually settled on the first bar he saw. He wasn't sure what it was that drew him to it, though it likely wasn't the eccentric name of the place. He didn't mind though, alcohol was alcohol, and he had a pair of parched lips that only whiskey could fix. Drunkenly, sauntering through the bar, Artorius moved with all the grace of a cat on nip only with much less drool. Miraculously, he made it to the bar, all the while patrons mumbled and gossiped as he moved, their words spoken in tones that were a mixture of derision and praise. In recent times, Artorius was something of a folk hero here in Dandelion. His activity in the war, Nine Lives, they weren't mundane feats. But, neither were the several years Artorius spent killing, stealing, and ravaging Dandelion's streets like he owned the damn place. It was likely he'd never truly mend his reputation. But, right now, he didn't care. All he cared about was a drink. Actually, there was one more thing. Who the hell knits in a dive bar? Turning his gaze, Artorius felt compelled to find out why. Though, this was a lie. Artorius was merely follow two things -- his gut, and the 'ol divining rod if you catch my drift. He gave the woman a glance, before he confidently seated himself beside her. "You look like you could use some company," he said, smiling wryly. "And some better whiskey," he lightly teased. Before he knew it, Artorius found himself slipping into the unabashedness of his youth and promptly flagged a waiter over. Ropes and nooses, sure, but this was just good, simple fun. Edited by Mazohyst, Dec 23 2017, 04:18 AM.
|
![]() |
|
| 裁 kanna | Dec 25 2017, 12:44 PM Post #3 |
|
Complete Trash
![]()
|
Nimble fingers worked furiously on the garter stitch pattern of the scarf and in between newly created rows of forty-three, a quick sip from the dirty glass of whisky satiated the seemingly parched throat of the Ashur heiress. She was completely enthralled in her knitting yet able to flawlessly multi-task and keep an eye out for her maiden’s return – for a brief moment, her thoughts swam within the deluded depths of alcohol drenched fantasies. Out in the cover of darkness where degeneration ran rampant, Mary could have very easily disguised her crime by simply taking the man’s wallet and belongings after mutilating his body with randomized cuts from a tiny metallic blade. Had she of left him alive, he could have pointed out his aggressor and brought chaos into the bar as he flailed wildly with bleeding arms that appeared ready to fall off, seeing as they were held together with only small flaps of ruined flesh, and told all of such a horrendous act against him. Though, in such a place as this, in a time where nobody truly cared or was too drunk to know what was happening, nothing would be done and nobody, with any good sense, would attempt to get involved when it could potentially threaten their very existence, sober or otherwise. He’d eventually become angry and frustrated with the lack of action taken by the patrons of this bar and leave, only to drop dead within a few minutes of his departure from blood loss. It would have been an interesting, if not intriguing, series of events if that was what were to happen but only time would tell whilst she continued her absent-minded knitting, a genuinely simple smile across her cracked lips as she stared off in the distance. Before long, the whisky bottle was half-empty and after almost a whole skein, the scarf was nearing completion which was what brought Kanna out of her self-induced trance as she gawked at it with half-laden hues of soft azure. Paying no mind to the rowdy individuals that apparently frequented the bar, she stopped the completion of her scarf by focusing all her attention on the bottle – the haziness of the clouded liquid mesmerized her as she closed one eye to capture the vessel with both hands until ultimately using one to slide her empty glass close enough to the bottle as to not spill anything; that would have been rude and alcohol abuse, she was no such heathen, even in under these circumstances. Pouring a nifty drink, almost nearly to the brim, Kanna mildly felt the sensation of something heavy pushing her up from the booth’s cushion. Figuring it was just Mary rejoining her after a glorious escapade in the night, she didn’t bother to stop until her task was finished and once it was, she wondered why her maiden wasn’t giving details of her encounter with their associate. She cut her eyes towards the intrusion just as the decanter was replaced upon the table’s crude top and realized that it wasn’t Mary; instead, it was a very attractive man, by all definition of the word attractive. Raising a brow to ask him with expression alone, “What the hell are you doing?”, the man promptly replied without hesitation as if he could read her mind. "You look like you could use some company… And some better whiskey." Use some company, no. Use some better whisky, absolutely. But the words hung in her throat as she leaned back into the comfort of the booth and relaxed with her drink perched nicely on her pert lips. For a solid sixty seconds, Kanna stared at him while sipping politely on her whisky, only making herself more brazen and bold, not really doing it for his discomfort, but because that was just how she was. The nearly finished scarf and little bit of skein she had left remained in her lap, along with the knitting needles, and once she felt the awkwardness of his intrusion to be gone, she decided to finally speak. “I keep plenty of company and finer whisky at home,” Kanna began, tilting her glass to gaze at it mindfully while speaking with an uncharacteristically warm tone, “If you believe me to be a common whore whose body is for sale, I’m afraid you are mistaking. My sexual favor has no price – take from that what you will.” Finishing off the drink with a large gulp, she lightly put the glass back onto the table and redirected her attention back to the scarf, only to see a minor imperfection in one of the stitches. The more she looked at it, the more it made itself known and before long, it was all she could see, much like she did within herself. She hadn’t wanted to be bothered but now that her project was ruined, the distraction was surprisingly welcomed. |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Dandelion · Next Topic » |









7:34 PM Jul 11









