SO IT GOES [PK]

[TryaxReck 377]

Spoiler

 

 

He began his life taking from the land, relying on nobody but himself to see to his survival. He explored such beautiful things so young: The way those southerly sands shifted like beige waves in the great desert oceans, shimmering and glittering little imaginary gemstones with the aid of that scorching sun which made your tongue go dry and throat go hoarse if you didn’t drink enough water. Or how the east ebbed and flowed with her endless plains, those gentle declivities never seeming to end, only to shift in it’s inclines and dives into the earth.
 

He ended his life taking from man, trusting them. He explored such beautiful things so long ago. The way the city toiled with treachery now filled him with bittersweet memories, wondering if the rose tinted glasses had truly been on for so long. Shimmering and glittering imaginary coins that claimed to buy enough water to douse the sun always fell short of their promises. Gentle words that whispered reassurances as they plotted for their own gain. The scales weighed, shifting only as fingers pressed down, diving the balance in favor of another.
 

A rush of blood to the head. He felt it leak down him as he panted, sweat and sinew lining his visage as his chest continued to breath in and out, adrenaline dying as he stood next to the corpses of two beasts which breathed terrible fire, charring the land about him. What took five men to kill one of Alec did so singularly with two. Was this not a sign? Surely it was. Those cowards had not the guts, had not his burning will. He was to be a great slayer amongst men, accepting no payment aside from the glory of battle. How noble of him, he thought to himself, grinning ear to ear as he began to find in his victory hubris.
 

It burned. He felt it wrap around his head as the flames charred flesh and maimed him, the crossbow bolt erupting into forsaken flames activated by a rush of blood to the head. Traitors, cowards, fools deluded by their own sense of grandeur believing themselves higher than what they swore to: hubris. They looked over him with a sneer, the beings which Alec would have tossed coins as payment to now tying him up, carrying him off. It took the work of five to fell him, one small victory in his defeat. He at least, did not fall singularly.
 

“Oh, Alec!” The man grunted, the woman gasped, hands gripped onto flesh as the bones sparked with electricity. Gentle words and sweet whispered nothings filled the air as man and woman met. Oh it was such a pleasant burning passion, that act of union. He found it utterly encapsulating, perhaps the one pleasure he could allow himself too. It wasn’t a drug, but it offered euphoria. It was worth all the mina in the world, but there was no price put on such a thing. And so did love and lust mix as the sweat poured down, with a rush of blood to the head. And so he fell into it, like a sweet daydream, or midday fever.
 

“Oh Alec!” How many times had he heard that? The man grunted, the woman gasped, the hands gripping onto meat that held no feeling as the years wore on, his sensation being lost from the pounds of flesh removed from his body. They still came to him with their lustful looks, not minding the metal appendages and ugly wounds which despite having healed left their mark on the man like how wine stains the teeth. It was a drug, certainly. It felt less and less, craved more and more. Did he love them? Did it matter? It was a drug and he needed it's relief, however painful the morning after would be. And so he fell into it, like a mundane nightmare, or burning fever.
 

A child he was, carried in the arms of souls which were more knowing, infinitely more wiser than he. He looked up. Lucky to be alive, luckier still to not have lost limbs- all this luck that eluded men stuck to him like flies on spread honey- perhaps it was GOD, he wondered, that creator which had formed him from flesh like one sculpted clay gifting unto him a lesser divinity- destined for greatness. Destiny, Alec thought, was something he could live with.
 

He carried him in his arms, cradling a broken form of a young boy that when looked at he only saw himself. Honor and hope and all good things as stated to be by GOD, crushed by bad luck. It eluded him there, letting another being live. The bone turned to meat as the flies stuck to the body like spread honey, and Alec wept at how lucky he was. Lucky to be alive, luckier still to have survived without a scratch whilst he looked on at this child that had died. How bittersweet. He did not feel lucky.
 

He was a father. He looked down upon them as he beamed with pride, knowing that they’d go farther than he ever would. He would give them advantage, providing them his knowledge, his tools, his flesh and blood was here before him, birthed from a woman he loved so dearly. It was a perfect munality. He celebrated good fortune and vast wealth in a farmhouse, for a time taking up the plow and laying down the blade, at the behest of a woman who deemed it so. And life went on, and life was good if but for awhile, his story seeming to just begin with them.
 

He was a sinner. Was it wrong? Surely not. A father was to love their sons more than life itself, and he had certainly proven that as the noose tightened around his neck. He loved them, his sons. His burning suns which light up charred skies. He would not live to see it, but they would. In a rush of blood to the head did he hit her, frenzied by the thought of his suns being extinguished from his life, their light ripped from his grip by a woman he loved. He felt sick, the betrayal went farther than any blade or bite would. His flesh and blood was there before him, a hand of meat and one of metal laying on the base of the gallows, cut off by a man whom loved that woman less than he. He knew it was less. He knew. And as he heard the crank of a lever, he knew that the story had only just begun. Why must it end so abruptly? And life went on as he saw her eyes. He wondered if -
 

The crack of a neck. The meat hung.

 

So it goes.
 

Spoiler

OOC: Thank you:

ATallTower
KilluFumi
__Heathen
Marsloll
TiniestDragon
Clayphish
HIGH_FIRE
Josef_Rippelburg
Crevel
gamerdude09
iFractal
comatoseprincess
PixlHoopa
Mamimiux
Dinochad
holyterrain
TheBlackBobRoss
ItemVendor

And to everyone else who has influenced this character with theirs. 817 hours of character development well spent. I will see you all soon with something new. 

 

Edited March 3, 2022 by TryaxReck

[Dinochad 453]

Watching on in terror was the mother of his children and his wife. She too felt betrayed and as everything came crashing down she felt her heart ache. He had hurt her in a way she'd never forgive- but when she closed her eyes she imagined just him and their beautiful children. She loved him and she always would. 

All that love hurt as she watched his hands be chopped from his body, his painfilled screams taunted her mind and her beliefs of kindness. What was kindness? Was it cheating on the woman who loved you and gave you children? Was it leaving two children without a father? Kindness was nothing anymore. 

As the time finally came and the sound of the lever pulled, Vasilia Reza Kortrevich stared, watching his body dangle from the noose until finally it was still and the eyes she once gazed at in love were dulled and lifeless. She hated him so, but loved him so. As his life vanished before her she fell to the ground, her heart crushing inside of her chest. 

 

She didn't know how to feel, she felt confused and lost until her brother kneeled before her and uttered the words she needed to stand once more. The words that she'd fight for and live for.

 

"Vyr Children"

 

Spoiler

I loved playing Vasilia and Alec! I'm so sorry it ended this way but thank you for playing a fun character <3 He will be remembered in many ways!

 

[Gandhi 2658]

Ser August Barclay found himself seated as a page delivered the news to him. He tucked himself comfortably in his chair, a lit cigar found in his right hand as his eyes shifted to the open window, allowing a deep breeze to enter through the Noble apartment.

 

"Gutte on the Kongzem." 

August murmured to himself, 

"He wast ein sick bastard anyways."

He stated shortly, waving a hand for the page to depart as he did so. His only regret about Alec had been - the fact that he wasn't in attendance at the man's execution; payback, August would muse over. Nothing about mercy had appeared in his mind, odd- Was it? Looking back at the moniker he had bestowed upon him by the Koeng himself.

[TheTiniestDragon 30]

Elend Morilim Odinson lies, crumpled upon the podium, the dark, fresh blood mixed with bitter saltwater tears. Sobs rack his body, and a scream to shatter the frozen night rips from his raw throat. Pulled, raised as if by string 'round his head, he rises. Emerald eyes rimmed red, burning with anguish and hate, stare over the audience, assembled there – sinners all. Words incomprehensible tear themselves from choked lips, cursing these people and their God. The moon, overhead, has slipped behind a cloud, as his damnations spiral into the uncaring dark and the ashamed sinners, gathered there. Behind him, some murmur if they should kill him too. He cares not. In the end, they will suffer, he knows. A spark of flame flickers between two of Elend's fingers, but a futile glimmer of light in the night of this city that he despised. They will suffer.

 

Elend Morilim Odinson rises, as the hastily constructed gallows being to be taken down. Soul as torn as his tattered clothes, he staggers off into the night.

Edited March 3, 2022 by TheTiniestDragon

[Josef_Rippelberg 0]

A basridi youth sheds a tear for his fallen friend. Oh how he wished for Alec to have persisted longer. How he wished for the man who had honoured the basridi with his deeds. And onto that tear another one fell. And another one. That Basridis best friend had died and he could not have stopped it. 

[Mamimiux 174]

The Elfess quietly wept on the floor in the park of Elysium. She had lost so much to her own foolishness. She regretted how she and her old friend left their relationship, tattered and withered. The Mali understand what Alec wanted for her, the only think he did in his years of life; for her to become a better her.  "I will be better Alec. For you. Protect the heavens from evil now." She pulled herself up from the ground, walking away. Only remembering the joyful memories she had with Alec.

[Valannor 6345]

The Heir of Quthartis felt a grim frown stretch across his maw, cold and clammy digits coiling then about the haft of that graven shovel - the blade slipped soil, the hole dug further. Bound just contrarywise was the ebrietael strands of essence, the wailing of tormented souls reaching his ears... and another voice joined their song. His gaze fell to the earth, to the shallow grave he'd dug for a fleeting friend. A lead coin was held in his palm - heavy, like the burden 'pon the shoulders of a weary man. 

 

"I will remember your name, brave one... May the Shore keep ye, when this life could not."

 

The coin fell, soon being buried beneath the earth.

 

The wheel turned. 

[Dimitri_P 126]

Brinksby laughs at the missive, quickly tossing it into a nearby fire. 

 

"Mi notz care! Glory to Goz-Bog!" He screeches out, before continuing on his everyday routine without another thought of the dead man.

[__Stal27 246]

Adhemar Dusek would have watched the scene unfold ahead of him as he grimaced. The boy would have chewed the inside of his cheeks as the execution unfolded, the attempts of one man to stop the event from happening would have drawn a quiet chuckle from him. "Another evil departs this world, Dobry for us." He would have murmured under his breath, bringing a cigarette to his lips as he lit it alight, though he would feel a sense of relief, having the benefit of no longer worrying about the man who had attempted to ruin a family that he had learnt to care for. 

[marslol 671]

Theodosya Cecilya Mondblume sat in a tucked away home in Urguan upon the coast, having visited some friends before a missive would be tossed upon the doorstep with a soft 'thud'. The woman blinked and picked it up, settling into the kitchen of the cottage - ocean blue eyes darted across the page with more and more haste. Upon reading the final words, the Lady Mondblume crumpled up the paper into a white-knuckled fist. No words were uttered, though there seemed to be no words to even begin to describe how she felt.

 

The Mondblume perhaps went missing for a few days similar to how she was captured at the raid upon Jerovitz. There was nay a trace of her in Karosgrad, her apartment or the Kingdom of Haense. The little cottage at the shore was laid in waste of the Lady's unbridled rampage - books and papers shredded, shattered glass all over floorboards, bodies piled high. As the woman sat crumpled in her destruction, her anger, her guilt, a hollow glare glued onto her fractured reflection on the broken fragments of the bottles, of her mind, of her psyche. 

 

"..What a waste."

 

Collecting herself even still, she'd head out and dig a small, shallow grave in front of a tree, with three other headstones placed. Flipped a bottle cap in her hands did she toss it into the dirt hole, burying it once and for all. The body gone, the fleeting memories immortal, the sin forever more.

[Rattussmackus 597]

Oda Falk cries silently in the rain home, but there was no home left. She sighs, reaching a tree and collapsing down next to it. She thinks about Alec, his lifeless body swaying there in the wind. She watched him die and did nothing. So she sits, holding her face in her hands and cries louder, a wailing emitting from her throat. Before she drops her hands down to her stomach, now large and swelling “Come now Jacob, we write our stories alone.” She rises to her feet, preparing herself to find a new home. A new lover.

[outcook 724]

Viktor Romstun towered hundreds of feet above Providence, hands clasped behind his back. His hair blew faintly in the wind, a somber gaze locked down below. The crumbled missive laid grasped between his fingers, chin buried to his chest. And as the gloomy atmosphere only continued, the man was slowly compressed - numbed. He clenched his jaw and fists, eventually assembling the audacity to look up to the sky, tears lingered in his eyes. "Alec..." He whispered, struggling to swallow down a still-beating heart. "Like everyone else-" A trembling hand slipped off the other and pressed against his mouth, eyes squeezing shut. Tears seeped through his eyelids and streamed off his eyelashes, the tiny droplets finding itself absorbed by the stone ceiling he was placed upon. "Like everyone..." He fell to  his knees, mentally and physically deadened. 

"Like Darius, like Faux, like Edward, like Roland, like Solana, like- like-" He murmured, voice barely echoing through his palm. His hand slipped off of his mouth, tears left to freely stream down his face. Long seconds passed as he simply sat there, the only thing interjecting the sorrowful silence was the faint rustling of his coat against the wind - and his subdued cries. "Like everyone, you vanished...you're gone." He sighed, letting his head drop once more. Through his grief, he was reminiscent of Alec's talks against evil, his pure expression and emotion, everything that he didn't have. "You probably died thinking I was a good man too." He finally resumed his desperate babble, shaky legs pulling the Romstun up. 

"Now everything I do after this..." He slipped a hand into his coat, stepping to the edge. The faint sound of chains whirring together sounded against the wind, the same - mournful look casted down below. "All my villainy. It's no longer a challenge to the system, it's war. A war I'm declaring for you. A war...to avenge you." He dangled the chains of his pocket watch one final time, muttering something towards it. He slid his heel forth and hovered it over the edge, movements and breaths dallied. "Quite the long way down, mm?" He remarked to his deceased friend, clenching his fist as to paint the illusion his words had any significance. 

He softened at that moment, allowing himself to fall forward and off the roof. Wind blew madly against his hair and coat, his tears being pushed into the air as he fell. Violently, the wind pounded against his sleeves and pocket watch - eyelids gently closing as he neared the end of his freefall. The chains which held his watch rustled once more, and the wind which reverberated around him soon fell silent. "It's a war..."


"A war I'm not strong enough to fight." ~ 



 

 

Spoiler

OOC: 

What can I even say? Thank you, Tryax. Thanks for our amazing roleplay, the amazing character development you've given Viktor, and the amazing time I had with Alec. It was a blast, and I hope to see you on other characters soon!

Edited March 4, 2022 by Fumi

[Tildemancer 2]

1,2,3,4. 1,2,3.4. 1,2,3,4.

Somewhere in the background, unseen, unheard, a woman clad in crimson tapped. She sat upon a barrel, a journal of leather in her hands. She counted down every other second, her expression silent, serene. A finger tapped on the side of the barrel, a quiet, hollow sound unnoticed by the throngs. She watched as they led him to the gallows, as the noose tightened, as the lever was gripped.

She saw, and she dared not blink; at this, which was the moment of one end. Sacred, sacrilege; sisters and one and the same. Neither bore forgetting. Neither bore missing. She did not protest, even as others did, even as one sought to intervene. The time had passed.

 

1,2,3,4. 1,2,3,4. 1,2,3,4.

A countdown of life. Time remaining. Promises and hires, unfulfilled. Jobs never taken, histories split. How many paths might have opened? How many now fell into the echelons of the never-was, like sand, like dust?

Not so long ago had it begun. And now... the end.

1,2,3,4. 1,2,3,4. 1,2,3,4.

 

The hands wrapped around the lever. Muscles strained. In an instant, her hair stood on end, her breath caught.

"In the space between one breadth and the next, the moment between one heartbeat and the last; there stands a man named Alec," she breathed.

 

1,2,3,4. 1,2,3,4.

 

1

2

3

CRACK.

 

In an instant, like lightning, like mist, a man and his infinite potential faded to nothing.

And the Lamb of the Lord bowed her head, for she saw that it was evil, and shed but a single tear.

And again; "In the space between one breadth and the next, the moment between one heartbeat and the last; there stood a man named Alec."

"Welcome home, Alec."