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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 3:04:22 GMT
[Flashbacks]
It took a few weeks but Lector finally managed to leave that forest. All those spiders and goblins popping out trees did not make the trip enjoyable.
"Go out and see the world, he said.... You'll enjoy it, he said..." Lector mumbles as he remembers his uncle advise.
After another half day of traveling he decided he has traveled enough today to rest for the day. Now that forest isn't blocking his view, he hopes to catch a caravan heading south.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 4:04:12 GMT
Off in the distance he sees a group of barbarians. They look like they want to break something, anything.
One turns and looks in Lector's direction. Lector quickly ducks behind a tree but it might have been too late.
He hears angry grunts and he feels them pointing towards him. The ground shakes as the barbarians grind closer to his position.
"Just my luck, finally got away from spiders and now this..."
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 4:14:16 GMT
He quickly peeks around the tree. "Yup they're coming... I'm dead meat now"
He ponders about his impending doom, hoping a solution would come to him.
And like a great barbarian club it hit him... not the actually club though. In a few quick gestures he performed a spell he's been doing for years.
Magic circles appear out of thin air and illuminate his surroundings. In a wave of blinding light his savior was here, the summon that will rescue him from these barbarians.
A corgi appears wagging his tail and staring at Lector with it's cute little eyes. "He'll do just fine" said Lector with a grin. The corgi lets out a whine.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 4:19:36 GMT
"Who's a good boy?" The corgi answers with a bark.
Lector picks up a stick, waves it in front of the dog then throws it with all his might. The little corgi jumps with excitement and chases after the stick, out from behind the tree and directly in front of the barbarians. The corgi yelps and attempts to flee back to his master, but is cut off by the barbarians. It turns and runs as fast as it could with the barbarians chasing after it. Now! thought Lector.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 4:26:51 GMT
Lector turns and runs so fast that he almost lost his footing. He recovers quickly he continues to run.
With another whirl of gestures he summons his Eidolon, his trusty campanion.
Gripping it's mane he mounts the beast and looks back one last time. The barbarians were still chasing the dog. The dog would only be there for less than a minute before he disappears he had to make haste.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 4:32:59 GMT
His eidolon is not a very comfortable ride. It's hard carapace-like skin dug into all the wrong parts of Lector's leg.
He could not ride it for long but he had to get a fair distance away from the barbarians.
"That's good enough" he thought as he stops and dismounts near a river. Fording this river would be tricky, but he spots a bridge upstream. Another day of traveling, he hopes to find a nice cabin to sleep in tonight.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 12:19:21 GMT
Lector finds a nice dry cave, free of trolls. He decides to camp here tonight.
His eidolon glares at him as he settles in. "What?" snapped Lector "The dog was fine, they didn't even touch him."
"I'll stand watch" replied the eidolon.
"Good night Ryful." Lector says in a cheery voice as he dozes off.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 12:50:50 GMT
There were times that you decided you hated love because it was like some cosmic accident, a metaphorical hit-and-run scenario between you and some metaphysical object that left you either dead, in a coma, or simply just a bit weird in the head. It was a phenomenon that could happen without warning, leaving you and everybody else on this planet vulnerable to collision and unable to defend yourselves. It was true that you had built defenses over the years because your occupation called for it and your very nature dictated that you must be a walking fort, unconquerable and intimidating. And yet, despite all your glowers, scowls and growling, you were still dissected like common lab critter, so easily and completely, in a matter of months.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 12:51:13 GMT
By a fucking Herbivore, no less. There went your so-called "Predator's Pride." You tossed your towel with more force than necessary as you found an irrational irritation coursing through your nervous system, and you suddenly mused that perhaps you should not have watched the damn news about new discoveries in science because you were putting more and more jargon in your thoughts. Quickly, you pushed that notion down and continued to glare hatefully at the innocent piece of cloth. Where were you, again? Ah, that was right, you were mentally ranting at yourself as you prepared your bar for tonight.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 12:51:29 GMT
You have made yourself invincible during your time alone in the Cog Weasel, unreachable. And then, like a catastrophe, this Rabbit came in, ordered a carrot martini, and twittered your walls down, much like how winter stripped trees naked of their leaves. Where had your suit of armor gone? It was unfair, you thought, because hammering and tempering that armor was quite emotionally expensive, yet it was still melted down into this pitiful pile of goo at your feet as you found yourself a captive of this elaborate flaw of the human psyche.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 12:51:43 GMT
That aside, what happened after that incident now made you want to break a bottle of vodka on your own head. After all, she kissed you, like some intangible reward for protecting her honor. That damn bounty hunter, the nerve. How dare she take your life away from you? It was as if your own sense of self had been spirited away from your body by lewd strokes of tongue. You were certain that your life was not your own anymore after that, because you have become her hostage at that point, a plaything that could not possibly regain her individuality. At first, you deemed such dependence worth it, especially when you lied in bed with her in all her naked glory. You recalled one instance in which she crooned contently as she lied half-asleep on her stomach. The sheet of your bed only reached her waist, allowing your lamp to bathe her in a seductively warm glow. She had hijacked your left arm as you spooned her and used it as a pillow while she sleepily played with your fingers, trailing whispery lines on your palm and forearm. She looked so vulnerable to you whenever you were both in your bedroom, so deceptively innocent that you could not help but see yourself as the villain, especially when you slipped a wandering hand under the sheets. But you deemed villainy a rewarding act in those instances for it was only then that she would arch to follow your sensual touches and press herself against you as if you were her lifeline.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 12:52:03 GMT
But how stupid could you be to believe that charade. While the intimacy was addicting, it also left you open and helpless to her beck and call. You have willingly given her a piece of yourself after all, even though she never asked for it, and then she went in and took residence within the cavity of your chest, stubbornly clinging and suffocating the beating organ within. You could not believe that you have become a prisoner of your own devices, a hapless addict to her twittering laughter and sweet, soul-stealing, kisses.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 12:52:27 GMT
The sound of glass shattering against the flooring made you curse louder than you have ever done in your life, because on top of feeling so childish, you now desired to throw a fucking tantrum because you broke something. You have always been an expert in concealing your feelings and thoughts until they merely disappeared into the ether of your inner universe. However, you simply could not leash and chain this unreasonable pest in your chest. It was not painful by any means but you felt this stupid bug gnawing and eating you from the inside, making you pace around your bar and home in discomfort and grind your teeth down until they no longer have sharp edges. This anxiety could be fatal, you deduced, because you could not even sleep at night on top of being unable to function properly during the day. How dare she not contact you for weeks now?
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 12:52:39 GMT
She had told you that the mission would take longer than usual, but you did not expect her to be gone for a month and a half without even a word or a letter. Lack of contact fed that annoying parasite in your body, making its bite even more painful as it hissed and buzzed, prickling dark thoughts into your mind like howling ghouls that reminded you of how unsteady your relationship was with the bounty hunter. You swallowed the bitterness though, like an inanimate castle built to withstand and absorb any attack from invaders to protect objects of importance. But your invincibility took a toll on your temper, which in turn, made you careless about your numerous tails. Another shattering sound of glassware breaking was evidence that one of them decided to involuntarily lash out, even though your facial expression remained as neutral as the fucking bar's counter surface.
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Post by Lector on Aug 28, 2013 12:52:58 GMT
You allowed a shuddering breath to escape your throat as you squatted down to pick up the pieces of broken crystals, grudgingly keeping yourself from comparing the shards to an unspeakable entity commonly found in those pocket novels that told stories about love that were never truly like reality. And then as if those very same works of fiction resented your train of thoughts, you cut one of your fingers as you picked up the broken glasses, like a messed up and clichéd foreshadowing of a failed romance. You growled at your own stupidity as you brought your finger into your mouth to aid clotting, refusing to believe that your heart skipped a beat, not unlike another cliché in those cheap books. Oh the horror if Rio found out about this…
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