Often called the 'Lover's Triangle' for the trio of waterfalls feeding in to a triangular gorge, the Idalani area is a picture-perfect place to spend time with that special someone, with a beautiful exotic backdrop and countless rainbows dancing across the sky. (+2 Speed)

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[* Where Irony Meets Reality [P]

Postby Jaykobell » 05/09/2013 11:44 PM

Idalani Falls was a charming, relaxing area. During the day, many couples came to the Falls in order to spend some quality time, and even single pets and humans came to hopefully make friends or even find the love of their life. It was a place renowned for being beautiful and in touch with nature, having barely any kind of building or modern, city-like characteristics. It was the perfect area for a family outing for a nice picnic, or just to spend some quality time with the kids.

Nighttime was usual quieter, with very few visitors. It was still a romantic area, but it couldn't quite match the level and intensity of daytime Idalani. Many favoured the early and afternoon hours of the day for a visit, whereas many returned home once nighttime rolled around.

Of course, some families found the night of Idalani to be more charming and relaxing than the boasting, loud daylight.

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A small adult woman was hunched over a tent, which she'd just finished setting up. She was dressed in rather formal clothes: black pants with a black button blouse, with a small sleeve-less jacket on top that had been left open and unbuttoned. The most fascinating aspect of the otherwise dark and plain outfit was the tie, which wasn't all that common for women to wear. It was primarily red, with tints of white, grey and black all around in the paisley design. Her long white hair, with a characteristic curl at the front and a few select spiky hairs at the top, stood as a stark contrast to her black outfit. She carried a rather sinister ring to her hand, and finally, a small but long scar could be easily seen crossing from one eye to the next on her face. The final noteworthy characteristic about her was the fact that she had pale skin and red eyes, which matched her white hair perfectly, being that she was an albino.

Straightening up, the woman wiped her forehead and sighed. "I can't even remember the last time I assembled a tent," she said to herself, crossing her arms and taking a look around now that she was done. "Henry?" she called out, trying to find the bearer of the name in the dark forest area.

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Shortly after calling out, a young adult male appeared from the trees, humming a creepy tune to himself. He wasn't all that much bigger or taller than the woman, but he did look somewhat similar to her. He had shorter hair, but the white color was almost the same as his partner's. He wore clothes that were far the style of the woman's more formal outfit, instead wearing a more mage-like attire. A long cape was attached to his neck by a peculiar collar with even more peculiar symbols, and his light grey shirt was matched with two black sleeves that stretched across his arms. Two gold bracelets adorned his wrists, and his outfit ended with tight black pants that were slightly covered up by a purple cloth wrapped around his waist in a very specific manner. While one was more sophisticated, one was more mysterious and dark-looking.

"Hey-o, Negative!" the young man called out joyfully as he stopped next to his female partner, a big happy grin on his face. "You called?"

"Henry, where even were you?" Negative asked indignantly, giving him a look.

"Nya ha! I was just hunting," Henry answered with a bone-chilling chuckle, that grin not disappearing from his face at all. "I love it when it gets dark. Spooky!" he added, again answering with a creepy little laugh.

Of course, Negative was already used to her partner's rather unsettling and questionable behaviour, enough that it didn't faze her. "Wait, so did you find something to eat?" While hunting hadn't really been on her mind at this hour, it had been a long time since she'd eaten game. Not to mention that it almost sounded unlikely, considering how safe and relaxing Idalani was renowned to be.

"Of course! It was good shooting practice too!" Henry answered cheerfully, chuckling lightly. "I found the biggest bear in the whole area! Now all we have to figure out is how to carry it back here."

"What? But how are we going to carry a bear all the way back to the tent?" Negative questioned, although the idea to eat bear was exciting, if nothing else. Bear was one of the first meats she'd ever tried, and it had left an impact on her, in a good way.

"I have no idea! Maybe I can summon some undead forces to carry it back here?" Henry proposed, the chilling suggestion said with a happy grin and a most gleeful expression and tone.

"You're not summoning anything, Henry," Negative answered quickly, raising an eyebrow at him. "... Stop trying to talk your way into that," she added after a short pause, shooting him a look that left the man entirely unfazed. "Maybe Mark can help. We should be able to drag it back here if we work together," she proposed, turning around afterwards to call out to their final partner. "Mark! ... Mark?" she called out, but with no answer. "Henry, where's Mark?"

"Not a clue! Maybe he found a bear too?" Henry joked, once again letting out the same blood-curdling chuckle as he'd done earlier.

With a sigh, Negative started heading towards the forest in the opposite direction Henry had come from. "He can't be too far from here," she guessed, making her way deeper into the small, dark forest. "Stay here while I—"

But before she could ask Henry to watch their small camp area, the man was already shadowing her. "Nope, I'm coming along. I don't want to miss out on all the spooky fun!"

Sighing, Negative looked over her shoulder at the one she, against all odds, called her husband. "Sometimes, I realize I liked you better when you were obedient and did as you were told."

"Nya ha! I know, right? But it's like that day when I proposed: sometimes I totally take the initiative!" Henry chuckled as he creeped ever closer to the one he, too, against all odds, called his wife.

"Then let's continue that way and find Morgan quickly," Negative answered, turning back to face right in front of her. "He shouldn't be too far."

Meanwhile, a few feet away from the couple was a young-looking lad with too much curiosity to spare.

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"Hmm... Now where did it go?"

The young boy shared the white hair of the couple. He was shorter than the two and wore simple clothes that seemed to match both styles. While he wore but simple pants and a simple beige shirt, he also wore a large purple cloak on top of him that adorned the same uncanny marks on Henry's collar. His whole appearance was very much like the two, and he had another striking characteristic: he was an albino, just like Negative. Against all odds, the boy was just a few years younger than the couple, but through an incredible and farfetched string of events, he was still considered as being their son. The fact he'd come from the future from an unknown event was irrelevant to their lineage. The couple considered the boy as their son, and the child considered the two as his real parents, despite all odds.

He'd strayed from the two after being distracted by a flashing bug. Bugs were one of Mark's favorite things, and the thought of seeing a firefly around these parts was exciting. Not only that, seeing one meant there just had to be more! All he needed to do was find them. If he could bring a few back to his parents, it would probably be exciting to have a bunch of fireflies flash about around their small campsite.

"Genius, Mark," the boy praised himself quickly, letting out a proud little chuckle, almost similar to his father's. "But where did it go? I lost track of it... Hmm, and it's getting darker already," he continued to talk to himself, although the darkness didn't stop the boy from continuing to go deeper and deeper into the forest. He didn't seem scared or even worried about what he could potentially find: that was the advantage of being the child of two military-oriented parents, and having experienced combat firsthand.
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Re: [* Where Irony Meets Reality [P]

Postby Kodai » 05/11/2013 9:58 PM

Image


That stupid boy.

Really, he couldn't give any less of a damn about the child, having had him thrust into his responsibility like a lost puppy that nobody wanted, but there was the rub: The boy was now his responsibility, and if there was one thing that was to be said about Lyall, it was that he took his commitments seriously.

It didn't mean he had to like it, though.

After having put his foot down and standing his ground against the idea of any sort of excursion to Idalani Falls, he had finally caved in due to wanting some peace of mind and a reprieve from the boy's repeated demands. The pair had made the trip across Ree'ne and over the plains of Nssylai without mishap (though the people and animals that had 'mysteriously' found themselves with a bit less blood in the morning than they had gone to bed with would beg to disagree), but now that they had actually reached the Falls, the foolish child had wandered off on his own. That meant that Lyall had to do some additional wading through the tropical plants and trees in his poorly-holding-up clothes, both pants and long-sleeved shirt having suffered several tears already. At least the vest was fine… so far.

Ugh. When he found that boy, he was going to give him a good one upside the head.

In the meantime, he just had to try to ignore the overwhelming stench of fresh bear's blood.

*****


He was here! He was actually here!

Image


Cormac could scarcely believe it. He'd actually heard about Idalani quite a while ago and had instantly fallen in love with its image as a romantic getaway, but he had never actually dreamed that Lyall would ever be willing to take him for a visit. Sure enough, he'd resisted the thought at first, but after about half a year of on-and-off questioning the man had finally said yes. Although he'd done his best to contain his excitement, Cormac had been unable to suppress himself once they'd arrived at the Falls proper and had instantly set out to explore, taking in the sights as he came across them. Granted, it was nighttime and there wasn't a whole lot to see in the thick of the forest, but that didn't matter much to him. Having never been out of Lambastia, everything was new and exciting to him.

Well, fireflies weren't new, but they were still exciting.

A yellow glow flickered into view somewhat to the left of Cormac's current location, sending the boy instantly stumbling through the undergrowth in that direction. He hadn't really made up his mind as to whether he was going to attempt to catch it once he'd caught up with it, but as long as the little light sparked in and out of his vision and reach, he'd chase after it. Unfortunately, his limbs weren't exactly the most cooperative things, and it wasn't long before Cormac had lost sight of the insect. Hmm… Had it gone left, or right? Or straight ahead? Scratching his head with an arm that was covered by a sleeve that extended a good deal past his hand, the boy shrugged and picked the direction that he was preeetty sure was the right one. Even if he didn't find the firefly again, he was bound to find something, right?

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Postby Jaykobell » 05/11/2013 10:25 PM

It was in times like these that Mark tried to think, what would mother do in this situation? As a famous and legendary tactician with incredible strategies up her sleeve at all times, the boy looked up to his mother immensely. He wanted to be like her, and he wanted to be just as talented in strategy as his mother. While he had a lot of respect and love for his father as well, Mark couldn't deny that he was a lot closer to his mother.

However, sharing the tactical love with his mother wasn't the only reason why he was closer to her. Suffering from the same amnesia as his mother had years ago, Mark remembered absolutely nothing about his past since he'd ended up traveling back in time to his parents. Not only was he unaware of how and why, exactly, he'd ended up back in the past, but he also had absolutely no memories of his future past life besides those of his mother. He could remember a slightly older Negative teaching him everything about strategy, teaching everything about tactics and how to come up with incredible strategies to keep the lives of everyone out of danger, as much as possible. He remembered her lessons, he remembered her personality, and he just remembered her as a whole.

His father, however, had basically been completely pulled out of his memories. Upon arriving in the past, it had even turned out that Negative was single when the two found each other. It was only after a long series of tragic and unsettling events that his memories finally started to get back to him, finally letting him remember his father. It had been extremely distressing to not remember his father, since he couldn't imagine not liking both of his parents equally. Needless to say, Mark had been happy to finally regain some of his memories with his father.

All that to say, he often turned to his parents when he found himself in a tight spot. What would his mother do? She was the brain of the two, whereas his father was more of a brawler who had a fetish for bloodshed and fighting. Basically, if Negative ordered Henry to dive right into battle, the dark mage would happily do so in order to tear everyone apart. Admittedly, his parents did share a rather special relationship.

"Hmm... I thought I saw it go this way, but I'm not see— Ah! There it is!" Just as he was starting to get lost in his own thoughts for the rest of the night, Mark finally caught a glimpse of a small firefly, the glow flashing on and off as it flew away from the boy. "Hey, wait! Don't go!" the child cried after the bug, quickly running through the foliage and between the trees. Of course, doing that in the dark in a terrain you didn't know was like asking for something to happen.

At some point, Mark got distracted enough by the bug that he forgot to look where he was going. It didn't take long for the boy to trip and lose his balance a few times, and there came one trip that left him going right through some foliage. His fall eventually ended as he crashed into something, which he could only imagine was a tree from the forest.

"Urk... Ow," Mark complained as he took a few steps back from whatever he'd hit head on. He was used to hitting things with his head — a method that had proved ineffective in terms of jogging his memory — but that didn't mean that it didn't hurt anymore. "I guess that was bound to hap..."

But the boy cut his sentence short when he realized he hadn't crashed into a tree, but rather into a very undead-looking boy. "E-eek!" Mark shrieked as he stepped back some more, staring at the zombie-looking boy in front of him. Despite the forest of Idalani now being dark, it was pretty hard to miss that this boy was a zombie; likewise, it was pretty hard to miss that Mark was an albino, if you looked from up close. "Z... Z-zombie!"

Immediately, the boy adopted a defensive stance. "D-don't come any closer, fiend! I have a sword, and I know how to use it!" Mark yelled out, hoping his words would strike fear in the heart — er, did that boy have one still? — of the zombie in front of him. "Er... I mean, usually I have a sword..." the boy added afterwards, suddenly looking less confident. "B-but I can use magic! And I'm warning you, my parents are a legendary tactician and an incredible dark mage!" he quickly continued, suddenly regaining some of his confidence... but only to lose again. "Er... is what I would say, but I didn't bring a tome with me either... Or rather, I left it back at our camp, since I didn't think I'd need one..."

Wow, how unlucky. The one time Mark hadn't bothered to arm himself up was the one time a zombie popped out of nowhere in front of him. What would his mother say to her son being so ill-prepared? "B-but I can totally defend myself regardless... S-so don't even try to hurt me!"
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Re: [* Where Irony Meets Reality [P]

Postby Kodai » 05/12/2013 12:17 AM

Yup. He sure found something, all right.

After a few minutes of slogging through the tropical foliage, Cormac came to a stop. He thought he'd heard someone calling out into the darkness. Was there really another person wandering around out here? Sure, Idalani was a tourist spot, but most people would be sleeping by now. Who would be awake at this hour? …Well, Lyall would be, but that voice certainly hadn't been his. Curiosity piqued, Cormac changed directions and headed off as quickly as he could manage towards where he thought the voice had come from. Hopefully he'd be able to find whoever it was!

Or, you know, they could find him.

The sound of rustling leaves grew steadily louder, and before Cormac had time to react, a person barreled into him, making him stumble back a few paces. It didn't hurt him -- he couldn't feel pain anymore, after all -- but it did surprise him and force him to spend a few seconds in regaining his senses.

That was just enough time for the other person to freak out.

When Mark shrieked, Cormac stumbled backwards again, confused as to why the other boy was screaming. It didn't take long to figure out the reason, though, as he sputtered out the word 'zombie'. Oh dear. He'd noticed, huh? Not that he could really hide the glazed-over eyes and dead-pale skin... But the other boy was quite pale, too? Though his eyes had a lively brightness (even if they were red)...

Cormac didn't have much time to think about that, however, as the stranger quickly went on the defensive. Mark's words certainly had their intended effect -- the zombie staggered back further until his back was firmly pressed against a tree trunk. Swords? Magic? He didn't want to deal with any of that! ...Er, well, it appeared that the other boy wasn't exactly prepared to do all that, but the bottom line was that he could fight and Cormac couldn't. Utterly scared stiff (well, more stiff than normal), the teen zombie stood staring at Mark like a frightened deer in headlights.

It's like that saying goes: It's more scared of you than you are of it.

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Postby Jaykobell » 05/12/2013 12:39 AM

Despite his somewhat young age — how young was eighteen considered? — Mark had been dragged into a full-scale war with his parents. The boy did have fighting experience, and he had put his tactical knowledge to the test a few times before, with the help and approval of his mother. Even without any weapons, Mark knew some basic self-defense, even if his true strength came from the use of his usual weapons. And to be truthful, the boy wasn't all that good at basic self-defense, and he was a lot more comfortable — and powerful — fighting with his sword and magic tomes.

Despite his lack of confidence and his lack of weaponry, things took a strange turn of events when the zombie boy in front of Mark ended up seemingly more afraid of him than the other way around. Mark was familiar with the undead as well, both from afar and from up close. While his family often referred to the undead as "Risens", they'd strayed from that term since, instead using the more common, general name for things that were undead. It often avoided a lot of confusion with people who weren't familiar with the terminology, which was, granted, somewhat specific.

It wasn't the zombie appearance that unsettled Mark: rather, it was the danger things like the undead represented. For the most part, the boy had been exposed to bloodthirsty and mindless zombies that simply went on a rampage and killed every single thing they encountered, good or evil. However, that wasn't to say Mark hadn't seen zombies from closer. His father did have an unhealthy fetish for anything blood-related and anything morbid. It was fitting — if not disgusting and slightly unsettling — for his parents' very first personal encounter to have involved the poking and dissection of a zombie arm. While Mark's mother had slowly become used to the idea of assisting his father with the whole dissection hobby, Mark himself only found mild curiosity out of it. He'd touched and researched zombie parts before with his father, but he didn't really feel anything for it besides the advantage of knowing what made zombies "tick", as his father liked to call it. So both from up close and from afar, Mark had dealt with zombies before, and he didn't mind very much in theory.

Thing is, he had a problem with live zombies — the irony? — considering how dangerous they could be. If this situation was frightening enough for Cormac, it had quickly become a very confusing situation for Mark, whom couldn't understand the zombie teen's genuine fear. "Er..." the mage boy started, making a confused and curious face at the zombie in front of him. "Are you... going to attack me at all? Sharp claws? Hurl gooey stuff? Wiggle about to try to hit me?" the boy questioned, unable to figure out why the creature was seemingly more afraid of him than the opposite.

"Ugh... Wait, why am I asking you? Zombies don't exactly talk at all," Mark added afterwards, remembering just how very fruitful their few attempts at communicating with zombies had gone before. Still, this one seemed different, if only because he looked more human, and even afraid of the boy. "Then again, you don't really look like the zombies I've seen before... But it's kind of hard to really see you well in this darkness," the boy continued, seemingly having a small tendency to end up going into tangents as one thing made him think of another. "Well, unless you're not a zombie?"

Ah, this was getting confusing really fast. And the worst part about this was that Mark thought Cormac really couldn't answer him at all.
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Re: [* Where Irony Meets Reality [P]

Postby Kodai » 05/12/2013 9:20 PM

As the seconds passed by, Mark's fear seemed to be quickly replaced by his confusion. Cormac, however, was still flat up against the tree, unsure of what to do. Lyall had told him that there were people in the world that dedicated their entire lives to hunting down the undead, but he had never actually met such a person (obviously). Could this boy be one of those? Perhaps an apprentice in training or something? Although frankly, Lyall had made it out that the hunter-types had such a hatred for undead that they destroyed them on sight… The fact that Cormac was still existing made that thought unlikely. Besides, it seemed like the stranger was more concerned about being attacked than attacking.

That thought was proven soon enough, as Mark proceeded to give the zombie a confused look and ask if he wasn't going to go after him. Cormac vigorously shook his head as an answer, both because it was faster than him trying to stammer out a 'no' and because he hadn't quite found his voice yet. He didn't even have claws, and he had no idea what the other boy meant by 'gooey stuff'!

However, that was when Mark began to think out loud about the fruitlessness of talking to a zombie. Cormac, who was beginning to relax a little as the stranger grew less frightened himself, gave a small frown and rubbed his sleeve-enveloped arms together. He could talk… It was just that the words didn't come out smoothly. Being turned into a zombie and having his vocal chords stiffen didn't exactly help matters, either… Still, this other boy didn't seem to think that he had any sort of speaking ability whatsoever. Maybe that could be used to his advantage? After all, stammering out a sentence was more than being unable to do so. Perhaps he'd accept the limitation and be more patient with him?

Taking a deep breath (just to psyche himself up; he clearly didn't actually need to breathe), Cormac took a step away from the tree. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I I ah-I ah-I ah I am-I am-I am-m am-m am-m-m-m m-a a-a-a-a-a a z-a z-a am a z-z z-z-zo-zo-zom a zom-m zom-m zomb-zomb-zomb-b-b zomb-b-bie-bie zombie..."

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Postby Jaykobell » 05/12/2013 9:50 PM

Not only was the zombie seemingly not aggressive and even potentially harmless, but he even seemed to be capable of understanding what Mark was saying. His comment about zombies being unable to speak tied in with Mark's idea that the undead also couldn't understand speech. All the zombies they'd ever tried to speak to simply didn't reply in any way, including nodding or shaking their heads. All they ever did was to grumble angrily and charge to attack, while they sometimes spoke one or two words that were barely understandable.

But when Mark saw Cormac shaking his head at the boy's question, the albino blinked with genuine surprise, and even curiosity. "Wait, so can you... understand what I'm saying? Actually understand-understand?" the boy asked, genuinely surprised to be talking to a zombie that could understand basic human speech. "So you're shaking your head to say you... won't attack me?" the child guessed, and he sure hoped that was the right answer.

And even as he continued to voice out some comments, Mark could see Cormac actually reacting to them. The teen zombie actually frowned — an actual human expression! Mark's fear completely dissipated to give place to curiosity. If this zombie could actually answer to his questions and even create his own human expressions, that meant the undead in front of him actually felt emotions and understood speech. It was amazing! The albino child couldn't remember seeing such a zombie ever before, and that was quite something considering his father's hobbies.

The discoveries didn't stop there as Cormac turned the whole conversation upside-down when he started to speak. After taking a deep breath — although Mark was unsure if the zombie still breathed air and even had a beating heart? — the undead teen actually formed a sort of sentence. The words were stuttered out and left the sentence somewhat in a mess, but Mark had managed to get the gist of it. "Wh-whooooa! You can actually speak!" the boy shrieked out in excitement, taking a few steps forward now, instead of backwards. "I mean, you stutter and stammer when you talk, but you spoke because you understood when I said I thought zombies couldn't speak, right?" he asked, the boy now completely fascinated and showing no signs of wanting to attack Cormac. "Oh wow, my father would have a field day with you. I really think you're the first intelligent zombie me and my parents have ever met."

"Hey, so what else can you say? Do you understand language completely? Can you speak just like any other human being? And you frowned earlier: so you can feel emotions, right? That's why you were scared when I was scared when we bumped into each other?" And immediately, Mark went on to ask a whole bunch of questions to the zombie, the fascinating completely overriding whatever fear he'd had previously. This was something Mark had somewhat inherited from his father. While Negative was also curious, Henry was more experimental and liked to learn about things more. Especially when the said things were dead, gory and bloody: and zombies happened to fit into all three categories.
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Re: [* Where Irony Meets Reality [P]

Postby Kodai » 05/13/2013 9:04 PM

The fear that had permeated the air before was essentially gone now. Both boys had gone from being absolutely terrified of each other to being curious about each other. Cormac knew that the concept of a zombie being a dumb, brainless monster that tried to eat people's brains was widespread -- and was very true in certain situations -- but the way that Mark was actually becoming more interested in the idea of an intelligent zombie was something different. Most people just didn't like zombies, period. It didn't matter if it was one that could talk or not; they simply didn't want to deal with them at all.

When Mark asked if Cormac was actually understanding his words, the undead boy shifted his nodding to the affirmative. He didn't want to attack anyone, ever! …Well, unless maybe they were attacking him, of course, but that wasn't exactly the same thing. Everyone wanted to protect themselves when they were being wailed on, right? …Except the mindless sort of zombie. Man, he really hoped he never turned into one of those (although Lyall kept threatening that he would if he didn't take care of himself…).

The other boy got even more excited when Cormac actually managed to form a sentence, making him shout out in glee and even take a few steps towards the zombie. If Cormac could've blushed, he probably would have, smiling sheepishly and putting one of his sleeve-enveloped arms over his head in embarrassment over such attention. Imagine if Lyall could see all this gushing and excitement over little ol' him! However, the words weren't all just statements. There were also a lot of questions, and that made Cormac lower his arm and rub his hands (well, sleeves) together nervously. Answers that consisted of yes/no or very short statements were okay, but things that required him to think and give long sentences just… didn't end well. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I I c-I c-I c I can-I can-I can-I can-n-n-n I can-n can-n-n n-s s-s-s sp-sp-sp-sp-s-sp spe-spe-s-spe-spea-spea can sp-speak-speak-sp-speak-k-k-spea-k-k… I-I-I-I-I-I'm I'm-I'm-I'm I'm s-I'm s-I'm s s-s-st-st-st I'm s-st-st sti-sti-sti-sti s-sti-still-ll-ll still-st-still ll-a-a-a ll-a-a a p-a p-a p-p-p ll a p-p-pe-per-per-per-per a per-pers-s-s pers-s-s-s pers-s-son-son-n-n p-per-pers-son..."

And that was all he was comfortable saying at the moment, licking his lips with a dry tongue and looking frustrated with himself.

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Postby Jaykobell » 05/13/2013 9:36 PM

Considering the things Mark had seen — and actually experienced as well — very little could faze or genuinely terrify the boy. He'd seen war, blood, death, tragedy; he'd seen many facets of warfare, and so most things peaceful life had to offer often failed to truly scar or traumatize the boy. Zombies had been a big part of the war, so to begin with, Mark was used to the concept of them. In a nutshell, if something proved to be harmless, regardless of what it was, the boy would be interested in it.

As he continued to question Cormac, Mark eventually picked up on a few details. The zombie seemed more willing to make facial expressions and head movements rather than actually speaking out words. The way the zombie stuttered his words out, Mark wasn't really surprised. Even as the boy blurted out his second sentence, Mark had to focus and pay attention to Cormac in order to catch every word. The albino stared hard, his undivided attention hanging over every single word and stuttered sound spoken by Cormac. Although it was somewhat hard to understand if you didn't pay attention, the undead could clearly understand speech and reply to it accordingly. "Wow... That's amazing!" the boy complimented, internally expecting and hoping for more.

After speaking, though, Mark did notice that Cormac seemed to be frustrated. Stuttering so much, it was probably really tiring for the undead to speak. It bothered Mark when the boy had a hard time explaining something or putting something into words, so the idea of speaking in that manner constantly was even worse. "So do you stutter because you're a zombie? Or is it because it's hard for you to speak?" Regardless of the answer to the latter, there were mute humans out there, so the idea of a mute-like zombie really didn't bother Mark much.

The boy would've continued to ask more questions and to observe the teenage zombie, but as they were discussing, rustling noises eventually sounded out around them. The noises were seemingly coming from behind Mark, but it was hard to say if they were from a wild animal or humans. But the boy didn't have to wonder for very long as two human figures emerged from the dark and thick canopy of the forest.

"Mark! Finally!" Negative spoke out as she spotted her runaway son, her usually formal outfit ruffled up slightly from going through trees and canopies blindly. Not far behind her was Henry, whom was following nonchalantly and seemingly happily — but then again, there wasn't a time when Mark's father wasn't happy. "We were look—" But before Mark's mother finished her sentence, her face changed as she looked just past Mark. "... Mark. Why are you staying so close to a zombie?"

"Ohh, a zombie! Shame he's not bloodier," Henry commented, the father looking pleasantly charmed by their discovery, unlike Negative, whom looked more worried than happy. "Do you mind if I stab you a little and cut you up?" the dark mage went on to ask Cormac, his smile hiding a rather grim and gory intention.

"F-father, no! He's not like other zombies!" Mark quickly replied, turning around to face his parents and leaving Cormac to face his back. "This one can understand what we say! And he can speak back, too! He's like a real person!" Well, when Mark had said Henry would have a field day with Cormac... The "field day" really didn't mean such a good thing. Regardless, the boy seemed determined to convince his parents that Cormac wasn't a threat.
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Re: [* Where Irony Meets Reality [P]

Postby Kodai » 05/14/2013 9:46 PM

It was clear that Mark was having a difficult time understanding Cormac's speech, from the way he stared at the zombie intently, but at the very least he was letting the stammering slide. He even wanted to hear more, though of course that was due to simply finding a talking zombie fascinating. Unfortunately, the questions that came out after that were a little uncomfortable, making Cormac frown again -- he'd had the stutter from birth, so being a zombie had nothing to do with it (except for perhaps making it a little worse). The boy wasn't sure what Mark would make of that information, as he seemed so focused on his zombie-ness… Would he start to find it more irritating? Or would he just let it go because, hey, talking zombie?

"I-I-I-I-I…" Cormac began, but he cut himself off as he started to hear rustling noises in the plants around them and more specifically from behind his conversation partner. Was something stalking them? This was a wild forest, after all, no matter how many tourists paid a visit. He opened his mouth as a warning and raised his arm to point behind Mark, but before he could actually say or do anything, two people appeared (and rather fancily-dressed ones at that). One of them -- a female -- seemed relieved to have found the older boy, though she quickly expressed concern that he was so close to a zombie. At least she was protective and not aggressive… which was a bit more than could be said for the male that accompanied her. While he wasn't exactly aggressive in the usual sense -- in fact, he was downright happy and cheerful -- he did make a point of asking if he could cut Cormac up. The zombie's reaction was the same as any other sane person's would be: A face that perfectly said WTF?!, followed by backing away (leading him back to the tree trunk again). It wasn't that it would hurt him at all, but he'd like to remain intact, thank you very much! Plus, he was still too used to responding in human ways to things, so the thought of mutilation didn't sit well with him.

Oh, dear. Two scares in one night. Good thing his heart didn't work anymore, or he might've had a heart attack.

Luckily, Mark started sticking up for him, explaining to the people (who were apparently his parents) that he wasn't like the typical brainless zombies and could actually understand them. Cormac nodded quickly in order to back up Mark's point, just in case they didn't believe him. Once again, he'd lost his words, but hopefully they wouldn't be necessary to convince them. Besides, he could talk all they liked after the threat of being sliced and diced was gone.

*****


Ah, there he was.

Lyall had finally caught up with the zombie, having successfully ignored the bear scent in order to track Cormac's own. Apparently the fool had met up with some interesting people and was having a hell of a time trying to convince them not to attack or study him or whatever.

Well. Good practice.

Thus Lyall leaned nonchalantly against a tree, still keeping himself in the shadows as he watched the exchange and waited for the proper moment to intervene. He still needed to reprimand Cormac for running off, after all.

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Postby Jaykobell » 05/14/2013 10:47 PM

Mark had always been a really trusty fellow, but to have her boy just outright defend a zombie was pretty farfetched, even for him. It was surprising to see Mark being so friendly towards the creature as well, considering what had happened to him. After finding himself in this past timeline, Mark had been ambushed by a group of savage zombies who were after him. That was when Negative and Mark had found each other, and thanks to her intervention, the boy had been saved from death. It was strange to see the boy be so quick to trust the undead in front of them.

That little piece of backstory wasn't what crossed Henry's mind. "Ohh! That's even better!" the dark mage answered, laughing a little after Mark's explanation about the zombie. "All the more reason to check him up! Come on, Mark: we can study him together!" the father offered, Cormac's reactions and Mark's words just further increasing his curiosity of the zombie next to them.

"Ugh, no, father, listen to me," Mark argued indignantly, trying to figure out how to convince his father to not touch Cormac. "He's... he's a new friend! Besides, you wouldn't cut up a human, right? He might look like a zombie, but he acts, thinks, and feels like a person!" the boy debated, trying to use his wits to reason with his father. It seemed to work well enough when his mother did it, so Mark could hope he had enough confidence for his words to ring true as well.

"Oh, I'd cut up anything you offered me," Henry answered happily, replying so matter-of-factly that it was almost surreal. "Besides, the more blood, the better, and humans bleed just as much as the next thing! Nya ah!" the dark mage added, his happy and gleeful expression and laugh sending chills down people's spines rather than reassuring them.

"Stop that, Henry," Negative interrupted as she took a few steps closer to the dark mage. "If Mark says we can trust that zombie, then I... guess we can trust it. That means no hurting him," the albino argued, her voice ringing hard as steel despite her smaller stature.

"Aww... but that's no fun! I've never seen an intelligent zombie before," Henry whined, but seemingly dropping the desire to cut Cormac open from head to toes for the sake of science. "Well, can I at least curse you up a little? Nothing that'll kill you, promise! ... Although... you're kind of already dead, aren't you? Nya ah, but I would just try it out to see how you react to them! I could give you something like a runny nose for a few days," the dark mage offered, now asking the next best thing to dissection: cursing up the test subject.

Negative sighed and grumbled as she gave her husband a hard stare, while Mark sighed and became slightly uncomfortable at the prospect of his father doing anything creepy to his new zombie friend. While this kind of behavior wasn't unusual for Henry — and did his family know how excited he could get when the topic of blood and guts came around — it made Mark wonder just how his mother could stay so unfazed by it. Maybe it was from long-term exposure to the behavior in question?
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Re: [* Where Irony Meets Reality [P]

Postby Kodai » 05/24/2013 9:09 PM

Things suddenly seemed to take a turn for the bloodier as Mark's words absolutely failed to convince his father not to cut up the zombie in front of him. If anything, it seemed to make him even more eager, which frightened Cormac further. If his new friend couldn't stop his own father from trying to slice him open, what was he supposed to do? Well, if worst came to worst, he could try to defend himself, but he really, really didn't want to have to do that. Besides, these people obviously knew a thing or two about zombies, so they could probably decapitate him or de-animate him or… however it was they went about killing the undead.

Once the adult male had become even more creepy (despite how impossible that seemed), however, the woman (presumably his wife) spoke up and told him to stop. She didn't seem to really want to trust Cormac, but at least she didn't obviously want to chop him into tiny bits, so that was good enough for him. The man now known as Henry didn't seem too put off by her words, unfortunately, as he just switched gears from maiming to cursing. Thanks, but no thanks! Why would Cormac want to be cursed on purpose? Although, to be honest, he was a bit curious now -- could he actually get a runny nose? He was pretty sure it was all dried up in there… But, uh, that was besides the point, really! Even if the purpose of the curse was just to give him a runny nose, he had no idea if it could get messed up and end up doing something worse instead. Magic was weird that way.

"I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I I don-I don-I don I don't-I don't I-I I don't n't-n't-t-t don't-t w-w-w-wa-wa-wa wan-wan-w-wan--"

"Oh, for the love of… Just spit it out, already," a voice snapped. There was a sudden movement, and an arm flung out and smacked Cormac upside the back of his head. It didn't exactly hurt him, but he knew it enough as a punishment that he instantly flinched. "That was for wandering off, by the way."

To the side of the tree, and slightly beside the zombie, was Lyall.

Cormac had exquisitely fumbled his chance at learning how to convince people not to trouble him by having other people do all the talking for him, and so the vampire had lost his patience and decided to step in. Honestly, he found that he ended up doing that more often than he liked, but one couldn't help the natural stupidity of one's pupils. That was why they were pupils, after all -- to learn from the master. Some just learned more quickly than others. (There were also poor teachers, but Lyall wasn't about to admit that on a mind too full of burning irritation and too empty on drink.)

"You've got to learn to control that damned stammer of yours," he continued, crossing his arms… well, crossly. "Or would you rather depend on soft-hearted fools like this one to fight your battles for you? Is that it? You'll just worm your way into the trust of the most innocent-looking child in town to keep you out of trouble? 'Please sirs, he's all right, he said he's only come to pick roses'?"

Cormac shook his head 'no' furiously the entire time.

"Bloody hell, you're hopeless." He turned his head and spat into the undergrowth, then gave a long sigh. "Whatever. There's only the rest of eternity to beat it out of you." As if suddenly remembering the existence of the others, Lyall looked up at Henry and gave him a piercing yet somehow disinterested gaze. "I'd rather you not touch my property, thanks. I don't know what sort of magic you use, but I have no interest in seeing if it would interfere with my power."

The vampire had no idea what he'd just walked into.

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Postby Jaykobell » 05/24/2013 9:55 PM

Henry's behavior — and words — often left people confused and unsure what to think. The conversation often turned awkward, with the other parties sometimes just walking away quietly to avoid further interaction. Fortunately for them — and even for her — Negative had since learned how to understand Henry and how to translate his sometimes unconventional questions and words. Her explanations usually put people at ease afterwards, although some still found the man unsettling.

This was an ironic situation where Henry was making the zombie uneasy, but Cormac was making Negative uneasy as well. In the zombie's defense, however, he wasn't trying to decapitate or hurt the other party, so the feeling of uneasiness was partially unfounded. Henry, however, wasn't making the situation any better as both Cormac and Mark continued to be unsettled by the mage's words.

Both mother and son would've said something again, but before they could try to stop Henry, Cormac started to speak. Mark instinctively turned to the zombie, but Negative was left gasping in disbelieving and giving the zombie a look. Henry seemed unfazed, but he certainly stopped talking when the zombie took the spotlight. "He... actually speaks?" Negative asked rhetorically, surprised to hear it even though Mark had mentioned it earlier that this zombie was unlike all the undead they'd previously met.

And the said zombie was well on his way to show his speaking skills before something rudely interrupted him. Suddenly, Cormac received a blow upside the head, and the zombie flinched from the action. What followed after was the rude and mean-spirited entrance of a man, one who seemed to know the poor stuttering zombie who was now the victim all around. The newcomer went on to lecture the young undead, and he didn't go easy on the poor kid. As unsettling and strange as his father could be, Mark still loved his father and could accept him. If his father or even one of his parents were abusive or even mean-spirited to him, the albino boy didn't know how he would react. The idea of having your caretakers be abusive or mean to you was just unfair.

When the stranger turned to the family, he would immediately see that two out of the three members didn't approve of his words and behavior. Mark was upset and shocked to see the man treat the zombie so badly, and Negative looked fairly unpleased at his actions, staring hard at Lyall with narrowed eyes.

As for Henry, he was simply watching the scene quietly, his ever-present happy expression still plastered on his face. He lacked basic morals, so the idea of someone smacking a zombie around didn't faze him in the slightest. Negative was the one who taught him what kind of things were acceptable and which things weren't. "Aww... Gee, sorry. I hadn't seen your name on him, so I thought he was fair game! And I didn't know people had pet zombies," Henry answered to Lyall's statement, although his words sounded dishonest considering they didn't match his expression. "Sorry" didn't quite sound genuine when you were smiling away creepily at the other person. "Can I curse you instead, then?"

"Are you quite done?" Negative questioned the newcomer, her arms crossed just as his were and ignoring Henry's constant need to make someone's life just a little bit more miserable. "Or are you planning on kicking him too?"

"What even was that for?" Mark said right after his mother, stepping forward to meet the newcomer face to face. "I'm not soft-hearted! I'm friendly, but I'll hurt you if you hurt my friends!" The boy wouldn't usually understand "soft-hearted" as an insult, but considering how snarky and rude this stranger was, he couldn't understand it any other way than as a weakness. "So what if he stutters? At least he doesn't go around smacking people for no reason like you do!" the albino boy pointed out, seemingly not afraid of this stranger, even if he had displayed questionable behavior against Cormac. Still, Mark wouldn't sit by and just watch it happen; exactly like he'd just said, he wouldn't let people just hurt or mock his friends.
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Re: [* Where Irony Meets Reality [P]

Postby Kodai » 05/27/2013 10:54 PM

As much as his speech had hindered him in the past, it was really helping Cormac now. It had gone from making people incredibly annoyed with him to incredibly fascinated, with the added bonus of making them not want to hurt him. If only it could do this with everyone! Even the skeptical mother was letting him have his say.

Lyall, however, was just too impatient for that.

He gave the boy his verbal whooping and moved to deal with the nearby humans, but apparently things weren't going to go nearly as smoothly as he'd thought. Whatever reaction he'd expected the family to have, the one they gave him wasn't it. Henry, the father, didn't seem too fazed by his barging onto the scene, though he simply continued smiling even as he apologized (was it a real apology?) and then went so far as to ask if he could curse Lyall instead. Was the man an idiot? The vampire gave the man a look that suggested he thought that was indeed the case and decided he wasn't going to grace that question with an answer. Maybe it had been meant rhetorically? Yes? That was it, right? He sure hoped so. Lyall didn't think he could deal with it if the man was actually asking. At least he could clear up the misconceptions of Henry's original statement. "My name might not be on him, but my mark is," he said flatly, indicating with his eyes where two little puncture wounds sat on Cormac's neck. "And he isn't a pet. If anything, he's a minion."

Of course, saying that probably wasn't about to net Lyall any points with the others. The woman was giving him a look to rival his own, making a snappy comment about how poorly she felt he was treating the boy, and her son stepped forward to give him a miniature rant on the same subject. Raising an eyebrow, the vampire shifted his weight idly. "It's called discipline. He can't very well get through the rest of his existence by relying on dumb luck. The sooner he learns how to deal with people properly on his own, the better."

Cormac, for his part, had expected Mark's outburst just as much as Lyall. The vampire was harsh, yes, but he'd pretty much come to accept it by now. Not that there was really any way for him to rebel; since Lyall had created him, Cormac had to obey any order the vampire gave him, and the zombie was quite afraid of him as it was. To speak out against such treatment was unthinkable.

"Ih-ih-ih-ih-ih-ih it-it-it-it-it-it's-it's-it's --" he began, but was swiftly interrupted by a sharp smack on the back by Lyall meant to get him to both speed up and straighten up -- the boy had started slouching and rubbing his hands together nervously. Instantly throwing his hands behind his back and standing as tall as he could, Cormac continued. "It-it-it-it-it-it-it-it's-it's-it's-s-s-it's-s-o-o-o-ok-ok-okay-it's-ok-okay-okay-ay-y-r-r-r-r-re-re-re-rea-rea-rea-real-really-re-rea-really..."

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Postby Jaykobell » 05/29/2013 7:35 PM

Lyall's degrading look went right over Henry's head, with the mage keeping the same happy smile on his face the whole time. If he got insulted or touchy about every single little mean thing people said to him, well, Henry wouldn't have survived battle or warfare for very long. His damaged nervous system helped subdue physical pain, but he had trained his mind to be immune to basic insults and most rude statements. Expressions and actions included!

However, he was curious at Lyall's explanation of Cormac having his "mark" on him. "Whoa, you bit his neck? Gross! ... Nya ah, I like you a lot," the dark mage replied, enjoying the conversation more than anything despite the vampire newcomer being far from pleasant to the group. "So, can I curse you or not?" Henry insisted, seemingly in his own little world as Mark took the stage and tried to talk down to that vampire.

"Discipline?" Negative echoed from the back, giving Lyall a look that also suggested that the vampire was stupid. "Are you serious? If that's your definition of discipline, I think that has to be the stupidest thing I've heard in a very long time." Mark was disciplined just fine, and she hadn't needed to beat the kid or smack him upside the head every single time he made a mistake. Was that stranger serious? Even half the stuff Henry said wasn't as ridiculous as what the mother had just heard.

As for Mark, he was going to keep on arguing with Lyall, but Cormac tried to take the lead. As the zombie started to speak, he was smacked again by the vampire, and Mark gasped at the action. It wasn't only the fact that Lyall was hurting Cormac just for the supposed sake of "discipline", but also because Cormac was just taking it! The latter alone just wasn't right, nor was it fair. "He was getting used to people just fine on his own before you showed up!" the albino boy argued, taking a few more steps towards Lyall. "You're just going to slow down his progress and make him feel worthless if you treat him like this!" If all Lyall would do was smack the zombie, then obviously Cormac would eventually get sick of it, even if only subconsciously. He would trop trying, or he would lose the motivation to try; at least, Mark figured that's how he would feel, personally, if he was going through that kind of thing.

"You want him to learn how to deal with people? Well, how about he learns how to deal with you?" Mark suggested as he turned to Cormac and grabbed the zombie by the arm. "I bet you're nothing but a source of stress for him," he added to Lyall before turning to Cormac. "Hey, why do you let him treat you like that? Come on, you smack him when he makes you feel bad! I'll even help you!"

The kid sounded pretty serious, too. Well, the situation was getting out of hand pretty quickly.
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