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Welcome to the world of Fortuna, a land of fantastic proportions. This is an original fantasy roleplay that takes place in a world developed over nearly a decade of work and collaboration. We aim to encourage all participants to have a hand in the stories of the characters here, and the world around them. Your choices are key - so make them with pride. You decide who wins the wars, you decide who becomes King, the world is ours, and together we will bring it to life!
Post by Acacia-Black on Jan 25, 2017 17:32:27 GMT -7
Someone had carried him through the hospital. He was floating. He could not move his body on his own, but he could feel himself turning. Was it Green? The master? Zechariah was quiet. Black's eyes stirred. There was something below him. An operating table. Green was holding his shoulders. He didn't have to wait any longer, Green and the master were ready, and Zechariah would die. Black slowly reached a hand to his face, catching tears as they fell form his eyes. Zechariah could not stop him now. "Thank you." He sniffed. The master would find this behavior to be childish, but they could save him.
His fingers pulled together. He was scratching around his eyes. If he was on an operating table, they might as well have put him in a coffin. Zechariah pressed his hands onto the table, his knees pulling up. He rolled off the table, his head knocking against a stand, shaking several of the operating tools onto the floor. As he sat up, Thomas was standing over him. "Green, leave." He had bided his time long enough. Thomas Dunn had to die. The charms had given him enough power, even if he had only hurt Thomas' hand before. He needed something more effective. A target. "You… get away from me." He left himself up from the ground, and ran. The heart and the brain would kill Thomas in an instant. He had enough power to manage that.
Zechariah gathered necrotic energy in both his hands, and opened them. One to plant firmly against Thomas' chest, the other to grab him by the skull. More than just a spark against Thomas' hand, this much had to be a guarantee. Zechariah screamed, and grabbed Thomas Dunn.
Post by Acacia-Green on Jan 27, 2017 13:23:30 GMT -7
Green looked down at Black and saw that there were tears forming in his eyes and a moment later he moved a hand to wipe them off. She was startled at first, but also glad that he was no longer unconscious. At least not unconscious due to whatever was going on in his head, because in only a few moments he was going to be anesthetized, but that was a controlled state of unconsciousness that was for the most part safe for a person. Falling unconscious spontaneously wasn't safe, and was usually indicative of some serious health problems. Green supposed having a second person in your mind fighting you for control could count as a serious health problem.
Black said 'Thank you' and she smiled down at him. She knew he was thanking Father, who would be the one to fix things for him, but she was just happy he was feeling better now and she was sure he would be feeling much better once Father finished the surgery. He was wiping at his eyes but then it changed to scratching, and looking uncomfortable, and then he rolled off the table and Green stepped back, surprised more than anything as he sent operating tools falling to the floor and landed on the ground in front of her and Father. She went to help him to his feet, but he sat up and told her to leave. She had never refused a direct order before and so she instinctively stood back up and began to move away, back towards where Father was standing between her and the door. But then Black spoke again, or maybe it was Zechariah and said to get away from him, and she turned back to see what he was talking about just in time to catch him running at Father. She knew she had placed a protection on him against Black's magic, but even knowing that she wasn't willing to let him just attack Father while she stood on and watched - no, she couldn't let that happen.
As soon as she saw him move she tried to use her magic again, to protect herself this time, and bolted in front of Black just as he was about to grab Father.
Her magic was sloppy though and she didn't have enough time to cast the full protective spell, she knew, but she had to protect Father more than anything - Father was the only one who could save Black from himself.
Black's hand planted roughly on her chest and his other hand wrapped around her head, his momentum and the power behind his touch unable to be stopped in the brief moment after she jumped in his path, and the shock of his magic was immediate. Her heart felt like it was simultaneously beating quick as a bird but also somehow stopped completely, and the pain that radiated out from where Black's hand rested on her skin was greater than anything she had ever known. At the same time, his hand at her head was like an electric shock to her brain and everything went white. She could distantly hear someone screaming and it registered vaguely that it was her. She was screaming and everything was pain.
The bright white faded into darkness then and she succumbed to it, collapsing gracelessly to the ground.
Post by Thomas Dunn on Jan 27, 2017 16:27:10 GMT -7
Black woke up. That was annoying. He had hoped to use less anesthesia - the stuff was expensive - and now he wasn't going to have that advantage. He sighed, and moved to grab Black, planning on sticking him with the needle - but the way he was shaking caused Tom to stop. When Black stood and knocked over the equipment, Tom backed up. He knew what Black was capable of... And what Zechariah wanted. He reached for his pistol - usually kept behind him, under his jacket - but his hand met no metal. He hadn't brought it.
What a fool I am, He thought calmly, his eyes rushing through the room for absolutely anything he could use. All he had was the needle - which could not help him in the brief instant he'd need the help. It would take too long. He could try to knock the boy out with a swift punch - but it was too imprecise.
And then there was Green. She was between them quickly, and Tom felt a mixture of pride and stupidity. How could he have forgotten? Her core instruction was to protect him. Even at the cost of herself. Her magic would protect her - maybe - and so he couldn't help but smile as Black wrapped around her, pressing every ounce of necromantic energy he had into her body. Her scream pierced his ears, and he stepped forward, sticking the needle into Black's neck as roughly, and swiftly as possible.
In seconds, the screaming was done. The crackling of energy was gone. The two of them were crumpled on the floor, limbs twisted together in a way that made him angry. An ugly, painful imitation of a lover's embrace.
He pulled Green free first, being careful with her. She had a pulse, which was good, but her skin had paled to something almost white, and another colour had faded from her hair. The worst part, was that her skin where Zechariah had touched her looked just like his hand. Necromancy was an especially disgusting brand of magic, wasn't it?
He picked her up with ease, her arms drifting over his shoulder as he held her small frame against his. He had grown rather fond of her. She was like a child to him -- he laughed as he realized that her called him 'father' had gone so much to his head. She was a better child than his own would have been, had it survived. In fact, she was almost perfect.
He moved her to another theatre, locking the door to Black's room behind him, and laid her gently onto the padded seat before he took another look at her. She was growing up. Getting older. She was smart, and she had survived that attack from Zechariah - a shot that he was almost certain he would have died from. Perhaps he ought to use her for other purposes. Less cooking and cleaning and nursing. More... Fieldwork.
For now, he had something more important to worry about. Zechariah.
He returned to the room, the Kina knocked out from the anesthesia. Completely at Tom's disposal. He could take revenge for his hand, for Green even. He could do many things to Zechariah in this moment. Instead, he just picked the light-weight up with more ease than he had with Green, and placed him back on the table, front-down, face to the side. And then Tom went to the straps. He didn't have to use them, often... But this was a special case. He worked cautiously, ensuring that each of Zechariah's limbs were completely immobile. Even if the bastard were to wake, he'd be stuck. Unable to do anything but wish death upon Tom. If he were to wake...
If.
That gave Tom an idea. He smiled and busied himself with tidying the room, throwing out his gloves and thoroughly sanitizing his tools. He would take his time. And as pleased as he was with this plan, he whistled.
"Be back soon, Zechariah," He told the unconscious man. There'd still be a few hours left before he would wake. Tom could find things to do. In fact, he had something to do. He went to Green's room once more, and sat next to her. She was completely out, and it annoyed him. He'll regret that... And he'll regret damaging my hand. He pulled a chair next to her, and the cut through her shirt, revealing the damage that had been done where Zechariah had touched her. It was worse than his hand. Her screams were well-deserved.
It took him a good hour to fix her up. He'd want to graft fresh skin onto her chest if his patients were here - but they wouldn't be flown in until tomorrow. For now, this would be enough. For now, she would survive, and be in as little pain as he could manage. She deserved that.
She was a good daughter.
Once she was finished and bandaged, he picked her up once more, bringing her up to her room where he laid her in bed and tucked her in. It was something he had gotten in the habit of doing after her surgeries. She was never conscious for this particular moment of adoration, and so he couldn't quite explain why he did it. He wasn't conditioning her. He was just... Doing something that offered him... Fulfillment? Was that what it was?
"You're a good girl, Green," He offered, kissing the crown of her head lightly, his lips meeting only with rough bandages.
When he returned to Zechariah's room, the anesthesia was close to wearing off. He had enough time to shave the base of his skull, and that would be all. Then... Then Tom could have his revenge. The moment Zechariah began to wake up, Tom made sure to press the razor a little harder, cutting the skin.
"You've been a poor servant, Black. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Post by Acacia-Black on Jan 27, 2017 19:17:52 GMT -7
Green was standing in the way of Zechariah's chance to kill Thomas Dunn. He had grabbed her instead, and every ounce of necrotic energy he had prepared went into her body. Green screamed in pain as the energy would have burned through her body. Thomas stepped past her, and his hand met Zechariah's neck. The needle's sting stopped Zechariah. As the anesthesia flowed into Zechariah, he pulled Green to the ground with him.
She should have stayed out of the way. If only he was a little faster, Green could have been alone, and he could have focused on Thomas. Green could have been healed later. She wouldn't forgive him, but he would have taken his chance. They would have both been freed from Thomas. Zechariah's fingers twitched. His eyes were struggling to stay open. The anesthesia was quick and effective. Zechariah wanted to call out for Thomas, but his throat was dry. He still had not recovered from nearly vomiting when he had fought Black, only for his body to exhaust itself. His lips went numb. His eyes shut, and the world went black.
What if Nicole had come in with all her fellow soldiers, charging through the hospital to arrest Thomas? His father could have use his magic to throw Thomas out the window. Edgar would have made a plan. Zechariah broke his promise. He wouldn't see any of them again. Father wanted something in the Jewel Shore, and no matter how many times he offered Zechariah to join him and Edgar, the answer would always be no. Nicole was in Liesdro, to unite all of Acheron. He should have been able to help her. Edgar needed to settle down, find someone who he'd truly care about. Someone who could challenge him, but be worth his time. Antonio would expecting Zechariah back. Even if it was not as glamorous as being a soldier or helping in an expedition, working at Pagemasters was a peaceful life.
All of them had something to do. A place to be. A dream to chase. Lives without strings pulling at their hearts and minds. Without Thomas Dunn.
"You've been a poor servant, Black. What do you have to say for yourself?" How long had it been since he hurt Green? Why was he still alive? Thomas was digging a razor into the back of Zechariah's neck. He was savoring this moment. Gods could just let Thomas die. They wouldn't let Zechariah himself die. He tried to move his arms, but they were stuck.
Killing Thomas was not an option anymore. He wanted Black. Thomas could not die, but he could still lose. Zechariah held his breath. Necromancy was a power he had to resist using against the people around. Perhaps it was a power that could also be drawn inwards. Zechariah commanded his body to grow still. He was cold. He coughed, catching his breath. He couldn't stop now. If he had to die, then he would take Black with him. Thomas would not have his puppet.
White. She was also a necromancer. Even if Thomas couldn't have one necromancer, he would have a backup plan. Someone else would have to save Green, and protect Blue. The Imperator was not a monster, he should be the one to save her. "When you die, I'll meet you there. You'll never win, Thomas. Men like you never win. You will only come close. Someone will kill you. It won't be me, but there have to be others."
"Master!" Zechariah kicked his head back against the restraints. Black was screaming, trying to lift his head from the operating table, but he could only shake it. "Please, help me! He's trying to kill himself… kill me! His magic… it needs to be mine. I'm sorry. I… I failed you. Kill Zechariah, but please, give me another chance!"
"You never deserved any chances!" Zechariah smiled as tears fell down his eyes, blood trailing behind. "I will not be a part of a game. Don't keep me waiting, Thomas. Hurry up and die." The room flashed pitch black for a single moment as a pulse of energy surrounded Zechariah and Thomas. The kina was silent.
Post by Thomas Dunn on Jan 27, 2017 23:29:14 GMT -7
One thing Tom would be more than happy to be rid of after this procedure? Black's inane conversations with himself. It was grating to hear Zechariah whine, to hear Black plead. Tom just continued to shave the back of his head, smirking every time the Kina's head moved violently, causing more cuts. He didn't like to have his work butchered - but he would make an exception this time. He hummed as he did his work, blocking out the frustrating cries of the subject.
Once cleaned, he wiped down the area with antiseptic, Zechariah and Black still arguing, and prepared his other tools. He almost missed Zechariah telling him to 'hurry up and die' - to which he chuckled - and then he was enveloped in darkness, and felt his body painfully shaken. When the lights flickered back on, Thomas found himself on one knee, his lungs tight as if he'd just walked from a warm room to a frozen wasteland. He coughed with shallow breath, and once he'd found air again, and the dark spots had disappeared from his vision, he stood. Zechariah was still laying in place, and he was still. And quiet. Finally.
A brief worry crossed Tom's mind - had the boy killed himself? - but a quick check of his pulse and the zap of necrotic energy he got for it made it quite clear that he was very much alive. Only now he was unconscious.
That wasn't fair. Tom had waited - and patiently - for him to awaken. He had wanted to have a conversation as he sliced his way into Zechariah's mind. Chastised him. Punished him. He wanted to take his revenge. Zechariah had taken it from him. And so Tom would remove Zechariah. Sighing, he went to wash off his hands and tools again - he wouldn't risk an infection in his patient - and then paused to put a record player on. Loud music began to blare, and Tom hummed along as he went to work.
When all was finished, Black was perfect. Well, aside from the razor cuts from the shaving. The old implant had been removed, and the new one had been inserted - the newest model. Newer even than what Green had in her mind. If she would give up her life for him, Black would now be certain to kill himself if anything were to happen to Tom. Black would be loyal. Black would be his.
Tom washed his hands once more, and shut off the music before going to unlatch Black. He flipped the boy over, and relatched him sitting up. He attached a small electrode to either side of Black's head, both of which were attached a single hand-crank that Tom pulled onto his lap as he sat down in front of Black. He took one last look at his unconscious subject, and with a small smile, cranked the device a couple of times, sending a slightly harsher jolt than he would normally intend. He needed a little revenge.
"You are safe. You are home. Do you know who I am?"
Post by Acacia-Black on Jan 31, 2017 14:08:36 GMT -7
The kina's head was shaking, as if a great weight had been lifted from him, only for another to take its place. Several scratches and cuts were visible around his head. They were shallow and could heal in a matter of days, and yet, cold air was seeping from the wounds. His whole body was cold. The temperature of the operating table should have been ordinary, yet his hands pulled back like he had touched a hot stove. He may as well have been sitting in a furnace.
His lips could not even quiver. The heat of the operating table was not real. Electricity coursed through his body. Thomas Dunn was sitting, waiting for him to speak. As the kina tried to speak, his voice was dry. No words came out, only gasping, and hissing as he tried to gather saliva. He needed to give an answer, but he hesitated. Zechariah would have interrupted as soon as possible. The answer must have been sincere. A clever answer that Thomas would only want to hear would not have been enough. The answer needed to be his, and his alone. Zechariah had already taken his body. He could not hold on to taking his voice.
The room was silent. His master may have started to suspect that he did not know he was. No one was interrupting the kina. No one was waiting for an opportunity to speak up. The scratches and cuts had left their mark, but no one else could cause them. Zechariah had to have been controlling his voice, but his hold was gone.
Zechariah Vanros was dead.
Black lifted his head up, and smile. He lowed his head back down. "Yes, Master Dunn." His body was warming, and the table felt much cooler. Zechariah had tried to cause their body - no, it was only Black's body - to lose its temperature. It was a simple command to die, but it had only targeted Zechariah. Black laughed at how Zechariah's attempt to drag Thomas and Black down with him was pointless. It would have been a waste of a life, but Zechariah was hardly a loss. He had simply given himself his own mercy kill. "I apologize for every moment of distress that Zechariah caused both you and Green. It was because of my own weakness. I will accept any punishment you deem appropriate."
Post by Thomas Dunn on Jan 31, 2017 14:21:41 GMT -7
He knew he would be successful, and so his smile was not one of surprise. It was a mild kind of pride, the pride you felt when you performed a simple task perfectly - which was exactly what he had done. He let the smile disappear as quickly as it had appeared, not wishing to permit Black too much kindness yet. He was quite right in that he would need to pay for Zechariah's mistakes.
Revenge still needed to be taken.
"And I shall see it done," He responded plainly, marking something off on his sheet before raising his eyes to his Child once more. It was strange to hear master. He had gotten so used to Father from Green, and from his pet project in the basement. He may need to redirect Black - or perhaps he needed to re-evaluate the connection he had been developing with his tools.
Next, he would test two things. The first, Black's ability to process complex sentences. The next, Black's memory. "Tell me who you are, and then tell me about your family, Black."
Last Edit: Jan 31, 2017 14:22:03 GMT -7 by Thomas Dunn
Post by Acacia-Black on Jan 31, 2017 15:01:07 GMT -7
The master was satisfied with his request to be punished. Perfect. Zechariah had suffered the ultimate punishment, but he had tried to kill Green and the master. As much as he wanted to place all of the blame on Zechariah, Black had let his guard down. The pain that they both suffered was Black's fault as much as it was Zechariah's. No matter what punishment the master would choose, Black would still need to earn their trust back.
"I am Subject: Black of Project Acacia. Zota Vanros, Edgar Vanros, and Nicole Vanros all currently claim that I am a member of their family, but that is a false claim put forth by them to condition me into believing the ruse that they orchestrate. I was originally formed by two kina. Unfortunately, I must admit that I cannot recall their names, but I believe that they were skilled in the same school of magic. However, it was Necromancy. The male kina would claim to be my 'father', and although such a claim would be of more substance than what Zota Vanros would claim, it is irrelevant. That man has long since passed away, so his identity is irrelevant. I am uncertain of what became of the woman who would consider herself my 'mother', but that, too, is irrelevant. My true siblings are my fellow subjects of Project Acacia, as we have all pledged our loyalty to you, Thomas Dunn, for you have shown yourself to perform the duties that are traditionally expected of a father. Blue is another kina like myself, and White is a lamini, who is skilled in Necromancy just as I am. Green addresses you as 'Father'. Earlier, you said that your mentor, Richard Abernathy, could be considered my 'grandfather', and I agree with that premise.
"Master Dunn. With your permission, I would like to follow Green's example. I have no shame in addressing you as 'Master', but I believe that it does not completely honor the kindness that you have shown me throughout the years, and the kindness you have continued to show by saving me from Zechariah and the Vanros clan. Considering all that you have done, will you permit me to henceforth address you as 'Father'?"
Post by Thomas Dunn on Jan 31, 2017 15:32:15 GMT -7
It was an astute answer, precisely what he would have wanted, and with the efficiency he knew that Zechariah Vanros could not manage. Good. He mentioned his fellow subjects, which proved that Tom had succeeded in wiping Zechariah without wiping Black. Which would make the process of getting Black up to speed far easier.
What was more concerning was his memory of the Vanros family. True, Black had existed behind the curtain in the time he had been away from home... But he would need to be thoroughly examined. He could not risk another outburst. He could not endanger himself again - his life was far too precious, he was leading the charge into unexplored branches of the brain.
And then Tom's hand stopped scribbling at the query Black had offered. He raised his eyes to meet Black's, a question hidden there. Had Black read his mind? Was the new device too powerful? Or had he simply... Desired it? He supposed the boy would have problems regarding his parentage. It was possible that this was based in some deep-seated trauma. It was also possible that he was being manipulated.
"No," His answer was firm, and he returned to writing. Black had not earned the privilege - even if Tom wanted it, for some strange reason. No... Black was being punished. He let his subject stew for a moment and then asked another question, never raising his eyes from the page: "How does that answer make you feel, Black?"
Post by Acacia-Black on Feb 2, 2017 14:35:52 GMT -7
The master hesitated for a moment, but his refusal was stern. It was only appropriate. This, too, had to be part of his punishment. "I am… disappointed, to be quite honest, but I understand. I apologize for speaking so flippantly." His eyes and mouth shut. He needed to be silent. He had answered the question, and the master asked for nothing else. To say anything more would annoy the master and waste his time.
It was strange for his mind to be so clear. Zechariah wasn't spitting any indignation towards the master. The Vanros boy was truly gone, and he couldn't hold Black back anymore. There was no hesitation in his answer. He did understand that this was his punishment. Even if Zechariah was gone, his memory was not. That memory would drag them back to Dirys in a few days to keep Zota and Edgar silent. Nicole was in Liesdro, and Zota and Edgar could convince her. The only downside was Black could put on a convincing act if Zechariah was still alive. It was the only good use he had. They had to suspect nothing. Nothing that would make them believe that Zechariah was anyone worth mourning.
Last Edit: Feb 2, 2017 14:36:58 GMT -7 by Acacia-Black
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