Post by supenova on Jan 23, 2010 17:48:11 GMT -5
Warning: contains mild violence and swearing.
Long time passages of italics equal Kien's thoughts.
Rien sat silently, the blood throbbing in his temples so hard it hurt. He gripped the knives hard, as if he felt they were the only things that asured him he was real. But he didn't want to be real, he wanted it to be a dream, and he'd wake up in a peaceful world where people didn't tear each other apart each night.
But no, it was May the sixteenth and midnight, and he was about to make his first kill.
Rien shook all over, staring at the cloaked woman over by the tree. His stomach churned as he saw her picking furry moss off the trunk and shoving it into her mouth, while she clasped her throat as she swallowed it, stopping her throwing it up.
"Revolting," Laskia hissed. "Kill the spake, Rien, she's too low even for the Hallowed."
Rien didn't respond, he closed his eyes and dreamed back to when...
And what comes next? Ever since he was a child of not yet one there had been fighting. He could remember his feisty sister holding him hard as the scarlet fire scorched the forest. She held him close and promised him she'd keep him safe.
She'd kept him safe, all right, but not happy.
"Oi!" Laskia hissed, tugging his long, blonde hair hard.
"Ouch!" he yelped, slapping her hand and patting it back into place. Laskia put on a stupid face and twirled her hair between her fingers in a crude immitation, as Rien's cheeks flushed a painful meat-red.
Rien's hair was dark-gold and glossy, hanging round his face in silky, wavy drifts. A long side-fringe hung in his sky blue eyes, making him look about six. His pale face and tinged cheeks didn't help, either. He had a black cloak, with silver markings engraved on it, and a long black hood that hung in his eyes. He looked sinister then. But as soon as he pulled back his hood his little face was exposed, and then he simply looked like a guy from a boyband doing a weird hip-hop dance routine in dodgy a costume.
But back to the assassination. On your sixteenth birthday at midnight, so long as you were a part of the Assassins, pawns of the Vaiks, you made your first kill.
"Go on," Laskia snapped, shoving her brother hard. Laskia was a trained assassin and was favoured by the Vaiks, though they had doubts about her blonde-haired, pretty-boy brother.
You just don't have blonde hair if your an assassin.
Rien stumbled forwards stupidly, knives clutched in either hands. He held them out and pulled up his hood, shadowing his face. The pathetic woman turned round, and to Rien's dismay there was another child with her, a girl of fourteen with long coils of indigo hair and magenta eyes. She had a red-orange butterfly on her hand, which looked just as started as they did.
I can't do it.
"Ha ha! Times two!" Laskia cried. "Kill 'em, Rien, Karloi will be thrilled!"
Rien, willing her to shut up, turned round and glared at her. Laskia suddenly screamed and collapsed to the floor, clutching her head.
"Run!" mouthed Rien to the Dreamweavers.
Wasting no time, they scuttled off, saying nothing of thanks or even a nod.
Laskia groaned and sat up, her palms clasping the ropes of her scraggly hair.
"Urgghh," she groaned, wheezing. "Get them little pricks, Rien. Give them a stamp on the face from me."
Rien ran off before she could notice it was him who'd done the charm, not them. He wanted to find the girl and mother and take them to safety. He wanted to see the Dreamweavers and hear their story, he wanted the war to stop, he wanted to be free from being poisoned to kill innocent people, he wanted to meet the dragons and learn about them, he wanted to see the world he lived in, he wanted to kill the entire opperation of the Vaiks and bring peace...
But we don't always get what we want.
He'd been running for ages. Though a useless fighter, he was very agile and fast, and seemed to know excactly when to turn and almost see things before they happened. It was like he was a step in front of everyone else. It doesn't seem like much, but those things start to add up...
He saw a drift of indigo hair.
"HEY!" he shouted. "WAIT!"
Lunging forwards, he tumbled over onto the two people he'd just 'saved'. The mother started to scream and sob, the girl whimpering.
"Sh sh sh..." Rien whispered, putting his fingers to his lips. "I don't want to hurt you.."
"Mama!" the girl cried, struggling away from Rien and under her mother's cloak.
"Look, just let me help you. If you keep running they'll only find you. You need food, not moss or mould. I'll get you something...just follow me."
You'd have to be mad to trust an assassin, obviously.
But this one is worth the risk.
Long time passages of italics equal Kien's thoughts.
Rien sat silently, the blood throbbing in his temples so hard it hurt. He gripped the knives hard, as if he felt they were the only things that asured him he was real. But he didn't want to be real, he wanted it to be a dream, and he'd wake up in a peaceful world where people didn't tear each other apart each night.
But no, it was May the sixteenth and midnight, and he was about to make his first kill.
Rien shook all over, staring at the cloaked woman over by the tree. His stomach churned as he saw her picking furry moss off the trunk and shoving it into her mouth, while she clasped her throat as she swallowed it, stopping her throwing it up.
"Revolting," Laskia hissed. "Kill the spake, Rien, she's too low even for the Hallowed."
Rien didn't respond, he closed his eyes and dreamed back to when...
And what comes next? Ever since he was a child of not yet one there had been fighting. He could remember his feisty sister holding him hard as the scarlet fire scorched the forest. She held him close and promised him she'd keep him safe.
She'd kept him safe, all right, but not happy.
"Oi!" Laskia hissed, tugging his long, blonde hair hard.
"Ouch!" he yelped, slapping her hand and patting it back into place. Laskia put on a stupid face and twirled her hair between her fingers in a crude immitation, as Rien's cheeks flushed a painful meat-red.
Rien's hair was dark-gold and glossy, hanging round his face in silky, wavy drifts. A long side-fringe hung in his sky blue eyes, making him look about six. His pale face and tinged cheeks didn't help, either. He had a black cloak, with silver markings engraved on it, and a long black hood that hung in his eyes. He looked sinister then. But as soon as he pulled back his hood his little face was exposed, and then he simply looked like a guy from a boyband doing a weird hip-hop dance routine in dodgy a costume.
But back to the assassination. On your sixteenth birthday at midnight, so long as you were a part of the Assassins, pawns of the Vaiks, you made your first kill.
"Go on," Laskia snapped, shoving her brother hard. Laskia was a trained assassin and was favoured by the Vaiks, though they had doubts about her blonde-haired, pretty-boy brother.
You just don't have blonde hair if your an assassin.
Rien stumbled forwards stupidly, knives clutched in either hands. He held them out and pulled up his hood, shadowing his face. The pathetic woman turned round, and to Rien's dismay there was another child with her, a girl of fourteen with long coils of indigo hair and magenta eyes. She had a red-orange butterfly on her hand, which looked just as started as they did.
I can't do it.
"Ha ha! Times two!" Laskia cried. "Kill 'em, Rien, Karloi will be thrilled!"
Rien, willing her to shut up, turned round and glared at her. Laskia suddenly screamed and collapsed to the floor, clutching her head.
"Run!" mouthed Rien to the Dreamweavers.
Wasting no time, they scuttled off, saying nothing of thanks or even a nod.
Laskia groaned and sat up, her palms clasping the ropes of her scraggly hair.
"Urgghh," she groaned, wheezing. "Get them little pricks, Rien. Give them a stamp on the face from me."
Rien ran off before she could notice it was him who'd done the charm, not them. He wanted to find the girl and mother and take them to safety. He wanted to see the Dreamweavers and hear their story, he wanted the war to stop, he wanted to be free from being poisoned to kill innocent people, he wanted to meet the dragons and learn about them, he wanted to see the world he lived in, he wanted to kill the entire opperation of the Vaiks and bring peace...
But we don't always get what we want.
He'd been running for ages. Though a useless fighter, he was very agile and fast, and seemed to know excactly when to turn and almost see things before they happened. It was like he was a step in front of everyone else. It doesn't seem like much, but those things start to add up...
He saw a drift of indigo hair.
"HEY!" he shouted. "WAIT!"
Lunging forwards, he tumbled over onto the two people he'd just 'saved'. The mother started to scream and sob, the girl whimpering.
"Sh sh sh..." Rien whispered, putting his fingers to his lips. "I don't want to hurt you.."
"Mama!" the girl cried, struggling away from Rien and under her mother's cloak.
"Look, just let me help you. If you keep running they'll only find you. You need food, not moss or mould. I'll get you something...just follow me."
You'd have to be mad to trust an assassin, obviously.
But this one is worth the risk.