< atton revisited > The information page for Atton has been fully revised and updated with the new map!
< updated calendar > The Fortuna calendar has been updated in the "Other" lore section! This includes a document which displays the calendar for you to see, making it much easier to understand.
< moving map > The first functional map has been released in the News section! This map is also interactive, allowing you to drag and drop between points in order to determine distances. This is the first iteration, and there's more and better to come!
< first annual awards > The results for the First Annual Fortuna Year-End Awards have been posted! Go and take a look at who the finalists were, and who took home the big prizes!
< new default skin > Our new skin has passed the beta test, and is now the new Default for the forums! If you have any issues with this skin, send a PM or Discord to Mellie.
< human lore update > Humans have been updated with TWENTY-FIVE subraces/subcultures which add numerous options, and a little extra lore and flavour.
< magic lore update > Magical Lore has been enhanced with the addition of a post on Magical Education. From Beginner to Expert, this is how you learn the spells.
< a change to member groups > Member groups are now based on storyline! You can change your displayed storyline by editing the settings in your profile.
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!
First of the Winter Storm The Darkest Hour of Night
The Dreamscape was curious; especially when she entered it this way, intentionally, searching for a victim, rather than accidentally slipping into a fitful nightmare or feeling the siren call of erotica.
It was akin to the feeling of lying in a warm lake; so warm you nearly can’t tell where your body ends and the water begins, afloat without effort due to the salt content. Like living somewhere between fantasy and reality.
And that, to an extent, is exactly what it was, hovering between fantasy and reality. In her mind, she was physically present, wandering about an endless white expanse, but in truth her body was not there at all, only her searching mind, reaching out, prodding the dreams of her neighbors.
Every night she searched for her mother. She sought far past the trivial chatter of the mortals in her city and looked for a familiar light in the darkness of distance.
Nothing. What did she expect?
The dark-haired elf retreated to her city, though sullenly, to search for a dream that called for her, or whispered, maybe, with some curious delusion, some blight that did not fit in with their perfect mortal world.
Something that could use a touch of Solana’s corruption.
And, naturally, she found it; it wasn’t somewhere she might’ve been interested in on any other day, but Solana was not one to allow some contrived sense of self dictate her actions. What she wanted, she took, and rarely explained any reason behind the matter. And so she walked into this dream with little thought other than, I do hope this is fun.
Perhaps more interesting even than the sensory deprivation tank that was her meditation playground was the overload of senses that struck her upon entering a dream - in a way not unlike a sunny day in which one stands, lazily, feet buried in warm sand, and, suddenly, a harsh, cold wave smashes the body into the ground, spinning, wheeling...
For a long moment, every time, she was unaware of where she was – who she was. She had no material possessions with her when she entered dreams, and so had no handy necklace to grip or cloak to adjust. Even a mirror wouldn’t do, because Solana was not Solana in another’s dream, she molded to the placeholder they created for her. Oh, it was true, if the dream was one of a man who had little in his life but work and a boring wife, she was entirely herself; all sumptuous curves and tantalizing lips, and often naked, too, or if not when she entered, then she was shortly thereafter. But in other dreams, dreams with more purpose, she took other forms. Maybe she was herself, but in their chosen clothing, taking the form of the stranger who had been sitting, cloaked, in the pub, whose face they never saw. Perhaps she was someone else altogether; a long-lost sister. The love of their youth.
Not only was her appearance decided for her, but her actions were suggested, as well. Some dreamers knew what she would do, and in those cases it was spelled out for her like a script, motion by motion. Those were boring, and she left them swiftly, to no notice of the dreamer, whose subconscious filled the role better than she. Oftentimes there were hinted actions, implied phrases, but she sometimes chose to ignore them, create a new dream. This was when she was able to manipulate; for dreamers, unlike their waking counterparts, were always impressionable.
It was how she had made her husband fall in love with her, after all. He saw her in his dreams nearly every night; and so, he thought, she must be what he wanted.
This particular dream was foreign to her, she always knew right away if she had walked with this dreamer before, and she had not. So, patient, the elf (or was she an elf, now? Perhaps not) waited; for the dreamer to arrive, for her purpose and identity to be made clear to her.
I do hope this is fun.
W O R D S 690
T A G Kikuriku Gouken perhapsss if you want to plot this sol/ichabod/dark!Kiku shtufffff... otherwise, all are welcome~ first come first served >:3
Post by Kikuriku Gouken on Jan 18, 2017 11:20:36 GMT -7
Kikuriku opened his eyes to find himself in a place much different than when he last closed them. He immediately thought that he was dreaming, but this felt different. Much different. Firstly, there was a notable lack of the dancing dwarves that always seemed to haunt Kiku’s dreams (He found them to be terrifying. They were so short! What did they have to be dancing about?). Second, he just felt differently. It was almost as if he were awake, and his surroundings were real – but he knew that that couldn’t be. When he last closed his eyes, he was chained to a very comfortable bed – now he was in an endless white space.
The white around him was almost blinding to look at – if you could call it looking. He turned his head to the left and right but nothing changed. It was just white. The absence of anything made it impossible to tell if he was even looking at anything. Kiku looked down at his hands to make sure that he wasn’t hallucinating. They looked like his hands, but they were noticeably darker. They were the same complexion, just coated in a very dark aura.
As he examined himself, he noticed that the dark aura surrounded him. And as he noticed the aura, the white world around him began to shift. In a blur, the light of a full moon replaced the white nothingness. Kiku found himself in a beautiful meadow, complete with a waterfall and a field of purple flowers seemed to glisten in the moonlight. He took a few steps forward towards the pond that the waterfall landed in. Unlike other dreams, he could actually feel the crunch of the grass beneath his feet and the soft breeze on his skin. His skin, which was mostly exposed. For some reason, Kiku wasn’t wearing his typical garb of white cotton shirt and black slacks. Instead he was wearing brown Xankwile-hide pants with a matching vest that left his chest and arms entirely exposed. It wasn’t his style, at all, but who was he to question the motives of a dream?
Maybe, this is some sort of prehistoric dream where I’ll do battle with giant monsters wielding nothing but my trusty axe! He smiled as he romanticized the underdog story that would be before realizing that he didn’t have any weapon at the moment. He was entirely unarmed – something Kiku never allowed himself to be.
This is definitely a dream… right?
Kiku approached the pond and looked into the water and his reflection startled him. His hair was stark white, and his eyes seemed to be much darker than they normally were. He touched his hands to his face in disbelief; they felt cold. The aura was visible still, even in the dark of night. As he moved, he could feel the weight of the aura as if it were tangible.
He was freaking out.
Kikuriku looked around the meadow frantically – looking for anyone, anything that could explain to him why he was here. As far as the eye could see, all Kiku could make out was the mix of green and purple brought on by the grass and flowers that surrounded him. There was no one around – nothing in the field except for the waterfall. A sense of loneliness and fear welled up within him – he was alone. Turning again to the water, Kiku stared at his new reflection. The darker face stared back at him, rippling in the waves caused by the waterfall. He couldn’t tell, but it seemed almost as if the reflection were smiling.
Suddenly, a figure appeared behind the reflection. Shocked, Kiku quickly turned around. There was a shapely looking woman standing just ten feet away from him, with her back turned to him. She wore a dress of green and purple, matching the meadow. Her hair hung long and loose down her backside. Her ears poked through her hair, long and pointed just like an elf.
She’s probably an Elf.
“H… hey there. Do you know where I am?” Kiku choked out the words in a voice that didn’t feel like his own. This voice was much deeper – much colder – than his own.
It was almost as if Kiku was an entirely different person.
OOC: I'm sorry for the REALLY long delay, Ari. I hope you're still on board with this!
It seemed Solana was – largely – herself. She enjoyed that. Naturally, she was most comfortable in her own skin.
She lifted olive hands into her view, turning them each way; appraising, dark lashes blinking rapidly as the dreamscape shifted before her, first glistening water, now dunes of rolling sand. It settled, finally, the nearby sound of gushing water persistent, into an endless meadow, grass shifting lazily in the light breeze, lilac petals fluttering on each gust. Her own hair, straight and unbound, was teased by the wafting air; lifting to tickle at the sides of her arms.
She matched the meadow, green top dipping into a light V, attached only in the middle of her torso to the silken mauve skirt, her sides and a strip of middle back exposed.
It was a beautiful dream, she thought, as her long skirts fluttered about her ankles, whipping at them in the wind like excitable pups.
The kind of dream only intended to be darkened by a terrible nightmare.
She grinned, since there was no one around, canines gleaming.
“H… hey there. Do you know where I am?”
The words were unsure – but the voice couldn’t have been more different, rolling like thunder. A curious voice to have stumbled over a ‘hey’.
The elf spun, catching him swiftly with silver eyes, cold as the chill in his melancholic voice. He was dark, surrounded by a magic as nefarious as hers, eyes twin wells that held all the mystery of faroff black holes, sunken into the dusty moon of his face. His hair – a stark contrast – milky white, bordering those eyes with waxen tendrils.
This was no illusion built by an imagined dreamworld. This was a part of himself he dared not perceive in the waking world.
She knew her place.
She allowed amusement to twitch the far edges of her lips upwards; which did nothing to warm the ice of her eyes, but made it – almost – seem as if they shared a jest no one else knew.
“This is your dream.” She turned her eyes back to the infinite field, dotted with lavender. “You tell me.”
He hovered in the corner of her vision, his aura tall and confidant; his shadowed visage notably less so. She raised a hand, giving the nightmare in him a subtle nudge; dark energy, not unlike that which clung like leeches to his aura, swirling in her palm, lithe fingers curling to cage the energy like a ball.
“The power inside you.” She whispered to him, the way dreams do, eyes reflecting the writhing black shadows desperate to escape the prison of her fingers. “It’s been caged for too long.”
She turned her eyes back to him; her luna clashing with his cosmos, a dark smirk lifting her lips. She would give him an idea, a hint, a tug; but it was his dream, and his magic in her hands. It would do as he willed it.
“Let it out.”
And she flattened her hand, releasing eager shadows.
Post by Kikuriku Gouken on Jan 19, 2017 16:50:59 GMT -7
It wasn’t often that dream girl identified for him that it was a dream, but Kikuriku was grateful nonetheless. Knowing for certain that he was in a dream would make it a lot less embarrassing when he tried fancy one-liners on the beautiful Elf that stood before him. She was almost impossibly beautiful – far too good-looking to be alone in a meadow in the dead of night.
Kiku listened as the Elf talked about his ‘caged’ power, and how it had been locked up for far too long. Ususally there was more foreplay in his dreams, but Kiku was more than game to skip the pleasantries. A smile crept across his lips as he imagined the many joys he would experience.
Plus, it’s a dream so… you know. No gravity. Now, how about some nice music?
But no music played. Instead, shadows emerged from the Elven woman’s hand and rushed towards him, engulfing the dark Aura that surrounded him. The shadows hit swallowed him up, and he couldn’t breathe. He felt a dark fire welling up inside him that threatened to break out, and Kiku resisted. Resisted the urges and temptations that called out to him.
Take her.
Find her.
Kill them all.
Let me out.
Kiku crumpled to his knees, clutching his hands to his head. His insides felt like sludge, and his entire body felt numb. The aura around him intensified, growing darker with each passing moment. Kiku tried to look around, tried to call out for the Elven woman in front of him. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to die.
His thoughts were of Tehodis; of her bright blue eyes and her perfect smile. They hadn’t spent enough time together and now, in this moment, Kiku longed for her. To feel her hand on his face one more time. For some reason, it felt as though he wouldn’t see her again – not for a very long time. He lamented that they hadn’t gotten to spend time together as their true selves. Kiku tried to hold onto her in his mind, but the shadows began to cover his thoughts. The shadows began to take Tehodis away.
Soon, there was nothing left for Kiku. No thoughts, no feelings. The elven woman was gone, as was the field; the waterfall, too. Kiku was alone, back in the white space. He couldn’t hear anything, and there was nothing to be seen for miles.
“Hello?!” Kiku screamed, but the void swallowed his words. There would be no escape from this white night.
As the shadows whirled around the lifeless body that remained, a wolf’s howl could be heard in the distance. The flowers twirled as the wind blew, and the sound of the waterfall encompassed the night. Silently, slowly… the man climbed to his feet. With closed eyes, he took a deep breath.
For a moment, the man’s intentions for the dream were clear and – in Solana’s eyes – rather unimpressively ordinary. Dreamwalking was simple enough, a dreamer’s intentions were as clear in her mind as they were in his own, and his predisposition for the most common of man’s sins was plain.
For a moment.
And then the darkness engulfed him, and she was silent, eyes watchful: for the power she’d unleashed on him was only as dark as his own deepest desires, and only as powerful as he allowed.
And yet... it was killing him.
He struggled, choking, clawing against some unseen force, and his voice – the deep thunder he’d spoken to her with before, resounded, godlike, in the air.
Take her. Find her. Kill them all.
Let me out.
The fabric of the dream itself began to ripple and fray; the field gone for a moment, and then back, the colors cycling, inverted now, and then all blue and purple, then back to normal; a girl appeared, a Kina, with only one arm, and stunning sapphire eyes. She looked at the man – Kiku, Solana knew – and she was in pain. And then she was gone.
The elf felt his mind seize suddenly, and was almost thrust out of his dream, but held her presence there, her own mental hold on him just barely strong enough; and the force of it whipped her dress about her, sudden wind materializing in his torment.
And, abruptly, it stilled, the dreamscape calming. A howl resonated from somewhere far.
“Kiku?” She prodded, gently, a rarity for someone like her.
And yet she owed him tenderness, didn’t she? She had compelled him to release something hidden, something he concealed even from himself.
Something she could use.
He rose, slowly, like a man ascending from a long sleep, remembering in the moment how to work his legs, how to clench his muscles in the right order to stand...
He did not open his eyes, but inhaled; adjusting to the fabric of the world, or, perhaps, to having control over the body that had been his prison.
“I’m free.”
She appraised him, eyes darting; but he was ostensibly unchanged; his hair was pearlescent, eyes soot.
Except that he was changed in some ambiguous way. The darkness had seeped into him.
The elf seemed quite pleased.
“Well,” she began, look coy, “I’ll take that as a ‘thank you’.”
These next moments were crucial; if he truly was what she thought he was, he would be avid to control the situation. If she didn’t swiftly mark herself as an equal, her presence in the dream would be devastating, rather than governing.
And so she waltzed up to him, like he was nothing to her but a curious stranger, no manifestation of inner malevolence.
Post by Kikuriku Gouken on Jan 23, 2017 18:08:42 GMT -7
The man stood tall in the meadow, breathing in the cool night air. It was clearly a dream, but there was no denying that it felt good to stand on his own two legs. He stretched out his arms, cracking the bones in his fingers as he clenched them. His body was stiff – new. And he was enjoying it.
The woman’s voice broke him from his silent reverie. She called out a name that the man recognized… a name that burned his ears to hear. The fact that she called it out so meekly did nothing to diminish the fire that erupted from her mouth.
Kiku…
His face did nothing to hide the anger that flowed through him. The man could feel his aura grow even darker, causing the flowers at his feet to die slowly. In fact, the entire meadow began to wilt. The waterfall stopped flowing, and the moon refused to reflect the sun’s light any longer – now it was just a circle in the sky. The man knew that these things died for him. All that remained was to escape this dreamlike prison and walk free amongst other people in the real world.
The man turned to the Elf, who had an air of self-confidence about her. She suggested that the man had thanked her. She was wrong. She walked up to him as if he were nothing and asked him who he was. This woman was a nuisance, already assuming that she had any importance at all. Her very presence was becoming bothersome, but the man would let it slide for now. He was overjoyed. He was free.
“I’m free.”
The man repeated it. The words sounded foreign in his mouth, but he so enjoyed hearing them.
“I’m free.”
He repeated it again, and again – each time a little louder than the last. He arched his back and practically screamed it to the heavens, for they would know that hell hath risen to come for them. The sky suddenly ripped asunder, and rain poured down heavily from the clouds. The rainwater felt cool on the man’s skin, drowning away the fear that the One before had. The man stripped away the tattered chaps that his body wore, for they were far too meager. He stood still for a moment – letting the rain wash over his naked body.
“Who am I?” His voice boomed like thunder – a resounding echo that shook the ground. The man had not forgotten about the Elven woman. “I am Kikuriku Gouken. But woman…”
The man turned to the woman – his eyes were cold and unfeeling. He smiled emotionlessly. He brought his hands to his neck as if he were adjusting a tie – as he did so, a sharp white suit appeared on him as if by magic. The suit was free of wrinkles, and appeared to be immune to the rain. He tapped his snow white shoes against the ground, completely erasing the meadow at his feet – dead grass was all that remained.
One sculpted brow shot up when his face contorted; she’d been right in one sense, it seemed.
He was not Kiku.
The question was: who was he?
She observed, circling him lazily as he shot a passing, irked look at her, then explored the body that had once held him captive; chanting his freedom (which earned him a rightful eyeroll from her, too, but not when he was looking), thrilling in the newfound liberty.
She let him have his moment. He had something to thank her for, even if he didn’t want to acknowledge it aloud.
He took control of his dream – finally – the crystal blue sky breaking apart to reveal a rolling cloud; one long, dark, ominous thing. This was no spattering of tentative wisps. This was a storm, and fat drops began to splatter about them, wind manipulating them so that they seemed to rush in from the side, though they did not touch Solana. It may have been his dream, but she was the master of the dreamscape they walked, and her hair fluttered faintly in the wind, tendrils dry and silken on the wind.
It was a silent indication of her power, and she watched, interested, to see if he caught it.
With a glance of obvious disgust, he reached down, ripping the Xankwile hide, and reveled for a moment; eyes closed, rain slithering down bare skin. He certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes, and she caught her bottom lip in her teeth briefly (which were oddly flat; she had no fangs in this dream), eyes raking unabashedly.
But this man was not Kiku, and sex wasn’t on his mind, so she left her green and blue dress intact, though circled slightly closer to him then.
“Who am I?” And his voice was the deep roll of thunder, it was the lone wolf; it was not from him, but from the dream itself, rumbling in the air and shivering in each raindrop.
“I am Kikuriku Gouken. But woman… you will call me Riku.”
She pursed her lips, and the drama of the white suit was not enough to erase his mocking words.
Woman.
She inwardly seethed, and the Solana Heiralei of twenty years ago would have killed him there, launched forward and wrapped nimble fingers around his throat, for no reason other than daring to speak to her like a lesser.
But she had grown, and she bit the desire back as soon as it clawed into her mind, expression flat, eyes lidded.
Clearly, he was – or otherwise, thought he was – powerful enough that she was nothing but an annoyance to him.
And if he was...
She supposed she could put up with it.
“Riku.” She assessed him again, lingering, not allowing his over-inflated sense of hubris to rush her.
“Well, then.” And her eyes touched his, a hint of humor in them, though hidden well enough. She didn’t suppose he’d look for it. “Who am I?
She didn’t wait for a reaction; swept away, eyes moving to the fields, now a graveyard of sickly shrubs.
“This is your dream. There must be some reason I’m here.”
The elf turned to glance over a shoulder, one hand pulling the dark waves over the other, the olive curve of her back, mostly exposed by the dress, revealed.
“Am I an object of mortal desire?” A smirk. “I think not, or why would you have left on my dress?”
She turned back to him then, shoulders squared, a fire alight now in sterling eyes, neck lifting, confidence clear in her shifting aura.
Post by Kikuriku Gouken on Jan 25, 2017 10:19:35 GMT -7
Riku had heard the woman speak, asking who she was. She explained that this was his dream, and that he would dictate who she was. Funny, he didn’t recognize her at all – but Riku had only been in existence for all of ten minutes; he didn’t imagine that he would recognize anyone. He looked her up and down, assessing her. She was clearly a beautiful elven woman – her snug dress hung to her curved tightly. Whoever it was that called her here must have had a taste for exotic looking women. Riku didn’t much understand the appeal.
As he looked beyond her beauty, he could see something else significantly more appealing – her power. The rain in the universe not only ignored her, it actually seemed to avoid her. Not only that, but Riku also noticed a fire in her eyes that burned powerfully. It was that power that Riku desired. He approached the woman calmly, smiling. He placed one hand on the small of her back and pulled her close to him, his other hand resting on her cheek. He could feel the heat of her body enter his own and it gave him strength. Her power was palpable.
“What do I want? What an interesting question. I have only just smelt the air, felt the wind on face. I am content. I do not know why you are here, woman, but it makes me glad. Glad to see such a… strong being in my presence.
It would seem that someone else – someone who is no longer here, brought you to this world. I myself do not recognize you. But I think that we can do wonderful things together.”
As Riku brushed the hair out of her face and stared into her eyes, he began to see her for what she was. A powerful ally who longed to be used as a tool for whatever sick, twisted desires he had. A lesser man would use her for sexual release (her body practically demanded such an endeavor), but Riku was no lesser man. He would take his time and use her for his darkest of desires – vengeance. Tag: Solana Heiralei
Riku’s eyes were sharp – far sharper than the man who worn them before. He saw her, and she saw the temptation she offered so visibly; she was beautiful, sumptuous, the pinnacle of man’s most mortal of desires.
And she bored him.
It thrilled her.
And then, dark eyes flashed; he saw what was hidden just below her surface, a truth often lost in the curve of her hips or the subtle parting of soft lips. Any being that knew magic could sense it; for she was no blossoming apprentice, but a master in her own right. So many didn’t want to see it. Men were content with her use as she presented it to them, merely an object of their own wicked desire, no value aside from warming their beds.
This one was different.
As he approached, she saw his eyes follow her frame, understanding stirring in dark depths; he saw the rain.
She was impressed.
Solana turned, facing him, and rose one questioning brow as a smile lifted onto stark lips. He was smooth, as all confidant people were, his hand slinking about to press against the dip of her back, and she let her lips hover invitingly close to his, though she knew that was not the attention he perused, not like the man before. He was testing her, measuring her, and he found something that interested him, for his hand rose to brush light fingers against her cheek.
His eyes were almost bright, now, as if her magic nourished him in some way, fed some writhing internal need.
Good.
The sooner he learned he needed – wanted – her for something, the sooner she became irreplaceable. She was content to be the tool of men, hoping to satisfy their most insatiable of cravings; because it was so easy to become dependent on her.
Yet some small voice spoke to her, the voice that reminded her of her mother, or her teacher; insisted she thought herself too powerful. You are not indestructible, it reminded. It fretted. He might be.
And I will be, too. Soon enough. A master of death.
“What do I want? What an interesting question.” The bubbling malice of earlier had evaporated; he was content, now, almost scholarly in his thoughtfulness, ”I have only just smelt the air, felt the wind on face. I am content. I do not know why you are here, woman, but it makes me glad. Glad to see such a… strong being in my presence. It would seem that someone else – someone who is no longer here, brought you to this world. I myself do not recognize you. But I think that we can do wonderful things together.”
She let the threatening smirk pull at her flat lips, granite eyes rising to his.
So he’d caught on, had he?
She was pleased, despite him failing her little test; he was perceptive, it was true, and schooled his own sins enough to ignore the distraction that was her taunting form, see the power that thrashed under flawless skin.
But not powerful enough to see through her lie. He had not brought her here, and neither had Kiku.
And yet, it was a miniscule distinction; his perception still vastly impressive. But he was no God, she knew, no diety or omniscient being.
He was still a man.
And men could be killed.
As he lifted his hand from her cheek to smooth back a vagrant tress, she caught his forearm, hand whipping from her side to curl locking fingers about his limb, immediately shocking him with dark magic; sending a wave of pain through taught tendons.
But only for a fraction of a second, only enough to show him a hint of the power she held on the tips of lithe fingers.
She didn’t suspect he’d lash away, like a weaker man might, or react at all, truthfully, and so explained herself, voice flat.
“You’re a cleverer man than the other. He seemed perpetually confused.” Solana’s fingers loosened, returning his freedom with his arm, and, dutifully, flattened the labels on his frosty suit. “But even the cleverest of men, the strongest of men, need strong partners.”
She brushed his arm again, this time with no damaging touch, but the soothing fingers of a woman.
“I have shown you what I can do, Riku, outside of this fickle dreamworld. Show me what you can do.”
Post by Kikuriku Gouken on Jan 26, 2017 20:45:55 GMT -7
The touch of the Elven hand sent shocks throughout his arm, causing Riku to grit his teeth within his mouth. His initial reaction was to get angry with her – scold her for even daring to raise a hand to him. But his second, more clearheaded thought was that he liked it. He liked her. Riku enjoyed her tenacity and her bravery in the face of an obviously strong person like himself.
She spoke of how strong men need strong allies, and Riku could not agree more. From the moment he noticed how the rain evaded her he wanted her at his side. The shock that she had given him, however weak, implied a much more bountiful array of magics and abilities that he could have for his disposal. The elven woman said as much, and told Riku to show her what he could do.
The command bewildered him for a moment. He’d only just gained control of this body, he was not well acquainted with all of the abilities that it had. Riku closed his eyes and attempted to research the recesses of his mind, finding some sort of meager ability that would serve as a placeholder for his more powerful abilities (when he figured out what they were). He sat idly in the rain for a moment, still untouched by the droplets as they fell. Lightning lit up the night sky, sending a blinding all around.
In the split second that the lightning lit up the land, Riku was gone. Hidden away in the shadows – a simple Ajatar trick. But he figured out a much more effective use for the shadows. Using the shadows from all of the now dead flowers, Riku created four ‘shadow clones’ that surrounded the Elven woman. Each shadow projection of himself matched him physically in every way, down to the white striped on his white tie. Each clone moved independently of the other four – one adjusted his tie while the other stuffed his hands in his pockets and tapped his foot.
Not a bad trick, if I do say so myself. Pretty good for one who just inhabited this body.
“This, my Queen, is just a small taste of what I am capable of.” Riku walked directly up to the woman and took her hand, kissing it before he evaporated into the air.
“With your power mixed with my own,” Another clone walked up beside her, cupping his hand on the back of her head, his fingers interlocked with her hair. He leaned into her ear, so close that his lips grazed before he, too, evaporated.
“We will reap vengeance upon those that have wronged me,” Another clone approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and slowly running his hands up her body, digging his face into her neck as he did so. As his hands approached her breasts, this clone disappeared as well.
All that remained was Riku – the real Riku. He stood across from the woman, hands in his pockets, kicking at flowers. “I want your name, woman. What is it that you want?”
Tag: Solana Heiralei It's really late, and I feel that this may not be as coherent to a fully awake person. If this post sucks, shoot me a PM and let me know. I'll edit it. Don't be bait, I have a reputation as the greatest ever to uphold!
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