Dorky, ergo fic.
Dec. 29th, 2009 04:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yukieTITLE: And With Strange Aeons...
FANDOM: Kupop-flavoured Secret of Mana crackmobile.
SPOILERS: Well, if you don't know who the Big Bad is, yes, you're going to be spoiled.
RATING: I dunno, there's a bunch of shankin'. 14A?
SUMMARY: "Ha! Take that, Death! Now you're dead...which is ironic because you're Death ...Wait, wouldn't Death be in control of death so he wouldn't kill himself? I mean... Uh. ...My brain hurts with such great intensity." -Quadraxis14
***
The man had a voice like stone dragged across sand; Emperor Vandole learned from Geshtar that someone had shot his master in the throat with a crossbow bolt, and though he'd survived somehow it had turned his words to gravel.
In spite of that, it carried.
He never once raised his voice, but never had to.
It carried.
"...vandole."
Vandole froze mid-step. The sound of the man's voice was like the sound of Vandole's robes against the floor. Slowly, very slowly he turned. No - the man lay where he'd fallen, the blade of the dagger buried deep in his chest, one gloved hand curled loosely about the hilt. He'd made no sound when Vandole struck - a soft surprised gasp, and after that he'd simply crumpled.
A warlock - even a famed and feared one - was still but flesh and blood after all.
He'd heard no words, of course. That was absurd. It was a trick of sound and mind. The lingering echo of guilt.
"Vandole."
Again. The emperor could not force himself to move forward - he could not make himself turn his back on the corpse even though he knew it could not be speaking - and if it were it was doubtless some death-curse, some spell or another torn from the Nox Arcanum (it was said, after all, to have genuine sorcery intertwined with the twaddle that the educated and skilled might glean).
As the emperor watched, though, the dead man's hand moved.
It clenched tightly around the dagger hilt.
The muscles of the arm tensed.
Slowly, slowly, the sorcerer drew the blade from his heart, and there was no blood upon it. Only - only a strange black smudging, like dried ink.
"You're dead," Vandole said, a cold chill walking up his spine and taking its sweet time about it. "This is absurd."
The sorcerer made a soft rasping sound and Vandole realized that this was what it sounded like when the man laughed.
"I am dead, yes."
Unsteadily at first, the sorcerer pulled himself into a seated position, then got one foot under himself. By the time he'd stood and started to walk toward Vandole, there was no sign of that ungainliness. That unearthly grace of movement was back as if it had never gone.
It seemed as if there was more to this man's more-fearsome-than-usual reputation than him having taken the name of a dark god and commanding the respect of vassals known to be demon-kin.
The sorcerer brushed a hand over the hole in his robes.
"Really. How wretchedly impolite of you."
"...You would have done the like to me," Vandole snapped, adrenaline funneling into anger now. Better anger than panic. "You know as well as I do that this was a relationship borne of convenience and naught else. We are not friends and never were."
"No," agreed the sorcerer. "We are not."
"I've seen your 'generals' looking at me as if I were a hare to their hounds. I know what they are, and I know that with you dead their contract is annulled - they would have made one with me to remain in this plane of being."
"Do you really suppose so?"
"Demons have no loyalty!"
"You would be surprised."
"Don't mock me," growled Vandole. "I struck you down once, and I will strike you down again and again until you stay down! You may bear the name of the Dead God and you may worship him with your every breath, but not even HE will be able to save your wretched hide form me when I - "
"I do not merely bear the name."
"Oh, balderdash, you idiot! Do you think I - "
Vandole forgot what he was going to say as the sorcerer removed that ridiculous skull-mask.
Hair and eyes blacker than ink, skin pallid beyond sickly.
He appeared to be a young man - not more than twenty-five.
Vandole was not fooled.
"You." He grabbed for his sword and drew it, fighting off panic. "You. Can't. You can't be."
"I am."
"You're not. That's impossible."
"Clearly it's not."
The sorcerer strode toward Vandole. The emperor let out a sharp sound of utter horror and swung wildly, intent on separating the warlock's head from his shoulders. The blow never landed; no sooner had the motion begun then the sorcerer's spell struck home.
Vandole collapsed, and his sword clattered to the floor soon after.
The sorcerer sighed.
"You were feebler than you thought, as I feared..."
He crouched by the fallen emperor.
"If you're found dead, I'll have no peace - and I need your aid yet. Your role is not yet fulfilled."
He extended a hand, holding it over Vandole's stopped heart.
"Wake, and forget you fell. There is no need for you to know you are a revenant. Besides - "
Thanatos smiled.
" - It's rather more amusing if you don't."
***
yeah so apparently the emperor was dead before he shows up dead in game idk uh why does this guy like my sofa so much man i don't even.
Also, the SoM translation patch for that scene is beautiful. "The emperor's dead! Who would do such a thing? --Besides us I mean."
FANDOM: Kupop-flavoured Secret of Mana crackmobile.
SPOILERS: Well, if you don't know who the Big Bad is, yes, you're going to be spoiled.
RATING: I dunno, there's a bunch of shankin'. 14A?
SUMMARY: "Ha! Take that, Death! Now you're dead...which is ironic because you're Death ...Wait, wouldn't Death be in control of death so he wouldn't kill himself? I mean... Uh. ...My brain hurts with such great intensity." -Quadraxis14
***
The man had a voice like stone dragged across sand; Emperor Vandole learned from Geshtar that someone had shot his master in the throat with a crossbow bolt, and though he'd survived somehow it had turned his words to gravel.
In spite of that, it carried.
He never once raised his voice, but never had to.
It carried.
"...vandole."
Vandole froze mid-step. The sound of the man's voice was like the sound of Vandole's robes against the floor. Slowly, very slowly he turned. No - the man lay where he'd fallen, the blade of the dagger buried deep in his chest, one gloved hand curled loosely about the hilt. He'd made no sound when Vandole struck - a soft surprised gasp, and after that he'd simply crumpled.
A warlock - even a famed and feared one - was still but flesh and blood after all.
He'd heard no words, of course. That was absurd. It was a trick of sound and mind. The lingering echo of guilt.
"Vandole."
Again. The emperor could not force himself to move forward - he could not make himself turn his back on the corpse even though he knew it could not be speaking - and if it were it was doubtless some death-curse, some spell or another torn from the Nox Arcanum (it was said, after all, to have genuine sorcery intertwined with the twaddle that the educated and skilled might glean).
As the emperor watched, though, the dead man's hand moved.
It clenched tightly around the dagger hilt.
The muscles of the arm tensed.
Slowly, slowly, the sorcerer drew the blade from his heart, and there was no blood upon it. Only - only a strange black smudging, like dried ink.
"You're dead," Vandole said, a cold chill walking up his spine and taking its sweet time about it. "This is absurd."
The sorcerer made a soft rasping sound and Vandole realized that this was what it sounded like when the man laughed.
"I am dead, yes."
Unsteadily at first, the sorcerer pulled himself into a seated position, then got one foot under himself. By the time he'd stood and started to walk toward Vandole, there was no sign of that ungainliness. That unearthly grace of movement was back as if it had never gone.
It seemed as if there was more to this man's more-fearsome-than-usual reputation than him having taken the name of a dark god and commanding the respect of vassals known to be demon-kin.
The sorcerer brushed a hand over the hole in his robes.
"Really. How wretchedly impolite of you."
"...You would have done the like to me," Vandole snapped, adrenaline funneling into anger now. Better anger than panic. "You know as well as I do that this was a relationship borne of convenience and naught else. We are not friends and never were."
"No," agreed the sorcerer. "We are not."
"I've seen your 'generals' looking at me as if I were a hare to their hounds. I know what they are, and I know that with you dead their contract is annulled - they would have made one with me to remain in this plane of being."
"Do you really suppose so?"
"Demons have no loyalty!"
"You would be surprised."
"Don't mock me," growled Vandole. "I struck you down once, and I will strike you down again and again until you stay down! You may bear the name of the Dead God and you may worship him with your every breath, but not even HE will be able to save your wretched hide form me when I - "
"I do not merely bear the name."
"Oh, balderdash, you idiot! Do you think I - "
Vandole forgot what he was going to say as the sorcerer removed that ridiculous skull-mask.
Hair and eyes blacker than ink, skin pallid beyond sickly.
He appeared to be a young man - not more than twenty-five.
Vandole was not fooled.
"You." He grabbed for his sword and drew it, fighting off panic. "You. Can't. You can't be."
"I am."
"You're not. That's impossible."
"Clearly it's not."
The sorcerer strode toward Vandole. The emperor let out a sharp sound of utter horror and swung wildly, intent on separating the warlock's head from his shoulders. The blow never landed; no sooner had the motion begun then the sorcerer's spell struck home.
Vandole collapsed, and his sword clattered to the floor soon after.
The sorcerer sighed.
"You were feebler than you thought, as I feared..."
He crouched by the fallen emperor.
"If you're found dead, I'll have no peace - and I need your aid yet. Your role is not yet fulfilled."
He extended a hand, holding it over Vandole's stopped heart.
"Wake, and forget you fell. There is no need for you to know you are a revenant. Besides - "
Thanatos smiled.
" - It's rather more amusing if you don't."
***
yeah so apparently the emperor was dead before he shows up dead in game idk uh why does this guy like my sofa so much man i don't even.
Also, the SoM translation patch for that scene is beautiful. "The emperor's dead! Who would do such a thing? --Besides us I mean."
