All was quiet in th Lair. Various villains milled about the dimly lit interior of the gloomy castle. Some read while others napped, and a pleasant atmosphere quickly developed. A few idle smiles even manage to break across a few of the members faces. All in all, it was a good morning.
"My Lord! Lord Ebon!" a voice shouts across the commons of the castle. Its owner, a young girl dressed in squire's attire, skips across the commons to Lord Ebon. He sits on one of the many lavish couches sharpening a gleaming silver sword. He puts this away, however, as his squire approaches.
"Yes Wibbons?" he asks her.
"Wilt thou, perchance, deign to peruse through m-" Wibbons starts to speak, but is quickly interrupted.
"Stop talking like that!" Lady Mizal shouts from across the room.
Wibbons covers her mouth with a hand, takes a deep breath, then starts again. "Lord Ebon. I" she starts off slowly, as if she has trouble speaking English, "spent all day writing the day before today,"
"Yesterday?" Ebon prompts.
"Yes," Wibbons nods, "yesterday, and I managed to transcribe a full four tomes!"
Ebon, who is too busy looking at the monstrosity atop Wibbons head, a purple hat with a large purple feather, doesn't respond.
"In one day?" Lady Mizal asks curiously as she walks over to the pair.
Wibbons nods vigorously.
Lady Mizal, who, whenever writing is talked about, becomes less bitter, and quickly engages Wibbons in conversation. "I've done six tomes in one day," she proclaims loudly enough for everyone in the commons to hear.
"I've done seven," Ebon answers idly. His focus isn't on the conversation so much as it is on Wibbons' atrocious choice of attire.
"Wow Lord Ebon. That's a lot of writing..." Wibbons begins before being interrupted.
"I've done sixteen before." A new voice adds to the conversation. The trio turns in time to see a maiden make her way, somewhat shyly, over to them. "But it was for a scholarly essay, so I don't know if that counts..." her voice trails off leaving the trio in subdued awe.
Before anyone can speak however, the door to the commons is opened, and a Steve stumbles in while yawning. As soon as he enters, Ebon greets him.
"What the FUCK are you wearing?" Steve shouts at the trio and stalks over to them. Or at least tries to. Halfway there he trips and falls to the stone floor. Apparently he wasn't quite over the drunken stupor he, undoubtedly, threw himself into the night before.
And just like that, the spell of pleasantry and normal conversation dissipated.
Ebon, however, takes this as an opportunity. He leaps up from his seat on the couch, "Yes! That's exactly what I was thinking Steve. What in God's name are you wearing Wibbons?"
Wibbons takes a surprised step back. "It's a hat."
"But a very loud, non-fashionable hat. You'd have to be a ten to pull that off. Am I right Steve?"
Steve, who just managed to lift himself off of the stone floor, looks at Ebon confused. "Guys who worry about fashion are faggots, and that's beside the point anyhow. I was talking about that."
Steve points past Wibbons, Mizal, and Ebon to the shy girl who just joined them. "What is Ford's bitch doing in my castle?"
The girl frowns slightly. "My name is Leora. You know that Steve," she responds carefully. "And I'm not Ford's bitch."
"Phffh. Then how else are you supposed to explain why you're still chasing after him after you cheated on-"
"I didn't cheat, dammit, I didn't even tal-"
"Not based on what Ford told me..."
The two of them quickly engage in argument that the rest don't really care to follow. Well, except Bucky, who sits on the other side of the room eating seasoned and popped kernels of corn as he laughs each time Leora makes a valid point, and boos each time Steve makes a good one.
With the nice mood gone, bitterness once again makes its home in Mizal. "Do we even need anymore proof? Steve is friends with Ford. That should be enough to banish him from here once and for all," she comments.
No one responds, and instead everyone returns to what they were doing before Steve entered the room. Ebon returns to sharpening his sword. Wibbons leaves the room. Presumably to go write. With the atmosphere ruined, however, Mizal can no longer return to the wonderfully delightful review she was writing. Instead she finds herself going more and more annoyed by Steve's incessant need to argue about everything. She says as much to Leora, but is readily ignored.
As the sounds of raised voices fill the room, everything that was good about the morning disappears, and with it, Mizal's patience.
"I will be back," she announces, then promptly stalks out of the room. Ancient stone bricks form the hallway that lead to the mage's, Axiom's, room. When she enters the dimly lit room she treads carefully, so as to not wake Axiom, who still lays asleep. Mizal searches around for several minutes before finding what she came for, and with it in her hand, a sinister smile comes across her face.
Meanwhile, back in the commons, Steve's and Leora's argument has escalated significantly. Their raised voices has managed to draw all of the attention in the room to them. Everyone watches in fascination, as the once presumed shy girl, Leora, presents fact after fact against Steve, who fumbles to find any worthwhile response.
With no other degenerates to back him up, Steve slowly starts to lose ground in the argument until he is forced to the cusp of having to give his side up. It is then that Lady Mizal stalks back into the room.
A dark, unearthly glow surrounds her bodice, and her eyes glow an unholy black color. Those eyes immediately hone in on Steve. Seeing this, Steve's eyes widen and he immediately darts across the room to escape her wrath.
A bolt of darkness follows him, but Steve manages to duck just before it hits him. Bolt after bolt are sent flying in Steve's direction, but he somehow manages to keep evading them. Well, until he is backed into wall that is.
Steve searches frantically for an escape route, and luckily for him, he sees a potted plant just past where Ebon sits. Unluckily for him, it is Ebon who he runs past, and he must fail to notice this, for he sprints a foot too close to Ebon, and is promptly tripped. A mischievous grin comes across Ebon's face as he sees the degenerate stumble and crash into the hard stone floor.
"Fuck you Ebon! I swear I'll kill you, and your bitch, then fuck her cor-" Before Steve can get back up, or finish his sentence, one of those ghastly shadowy bolts slams into his chest and his body falls limp to the floor.
Silence pervades the room, until Mayana, who'd been burning tomes of Ebon's writing in the back of the room, speaks up.
"What happened? Someone tell me what happened!" The blind girl stumbles across the stone floor to where she assumes the middle of the room is. Unfortunately, she ends up walking right into a chair and is sent tumbling to the floor.
"We did it May!" Mizal shouts as she helps the blind girl off of the floor.
"You mean-" May starts, but is quickly interrupted by an excited Mizal.
"Yes! I finally did it! I banished Steve!" In a fit of elation, Mizal forgets one of her cardinal rules, and hugs May.
May, who seems to be just as excited as Mizal, hugs her back. "I told you Ax's spell book would come in handy!" The pair of them celebrate their success, so excited in fact that they almost fail to notice Steve's spirit rising from his body.
Steve the ghost immediately starts laughing before thrusting his pelvis out victoriously. "I win bitch!" he says to her. Or at least tries to say. For some reason unknown to the rest of them, his ghost can move, and even hear everyone speaking, but no sound comes from him. No one can hear his voice, but that doesn't stop him from carrying on conversations through lip-reading.
"Why isn't he gone May!" Mizal immediately turns on her ally. "I thought you gave me a spell of banishing! I don't care if he's dead or alive. I just don't want him in my castle. You gave me the wrong spell!"
"No I didn't." Mayana shouts back. "You're just reading it wrong. Give the book here." Mayana then proceeds to yank the book from Mizal's hands, opens it up to a random page, then points at a random spot on the page. "Here, try this spell."
No one seems to care or mind that a blind girl is showing Mizal how to read, and Mizal doesn't even question it as she reads the spell aloud and casts it at Steve the Ghost. Another bolt of shadowy magic is sent towards Steve, but it passes right through him and hits Bucky instead. Bucky's spirit rises from his body, and joins Steve among the dead.
"It didn't work!" Mizal howls in frustration.
Mayana, ever the friend, urges her, "Just try it again. I'm sure it will work this time."
Mizal, heedless of the consequences, continues to fire random bolts of magic every which way until everyone there, including Mayana, lays dead with their spirits milling about the room. Frustrated that the spells aren't working, Mizal continues, but this time doesn't filter what she casts. Sometimes fire spews from her fingertips while other times gusts of wind throw the corpses around the room.
One particularly nasty spell blows a hole through the side of the castle wall. Sunlight leaks through the hole and shines across the room. The spirits seem to blend in with the sunlight, and Mizal, mistakenly, assumes that the last spell she cast made the spirits disappear. Thus, she continues to cast that nasty spell until the walls of the castle lay in pieces around her.
Despite the loss of the castle, she can no longer see Steve, and that was what mattered. With a satisfied sigh. Mizal plops herself on the ground beside the ruins of the castle. For a moment she starts to feel guilty, but she dismisses that feeling with a chortle of laughter. What did all of these people think was going to happen by putting all of the most villainous people in one area? Play cards, or perhaps write stories together? Mizal laughs aloud at the notion. No, the only thing that could possibly happen is the devolving of civility until something like this happened.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Mizal turns to the direction the voice is coming from to see a bruised, and slightly on fire, Axiom stalking towards her. "Did you seriously just destroy my castle? I spent years building this place. Years! And you go and fucking destroy it?"
Axiom takes her spell book back from Mizal, and immediately sets to clearing the rubble. She casts spells expertly until every one of the dead bodies lay outside the burning, broken ruins of her castle. She then starts casting beams of silvery light at each of the bodies, and one after another, each of the bodies rise up from the ground.
"What are you doing!" Mizal shrieks as each of the causalities are resurrected from the dead, including Steve.
"This is your punishment for destroying my castle. Next time you decide to kill everyone, make sure not wake me up from my sleep." Axiom pushes Mizal's hands as the grasp for the spell book once more. "Now I have to find a new home..." Axiom adds idly.
Mizal eventually sits back on the ground and pounds the ground in agony. Now she'd have to start all over in killing Steve.
The rest of the Villains and their associates walk around the ruined castle wondering where, in all of Cystia, they would find their new home...
Well here's my attempt at regaling certain, uh, recent events. Feel free to comment, criticize, or otherwise participate in this thread.
With all the dumbassery that’s been going on with the Villain Lair lately, sort of glad I’m currently missing most of retardation.
Feel free to continue to keep me updated though.
‘Crisis on Infinite Earths’ it read. // Oh hey, I suggested that.
Goddamn, I'm sad I missed this. Seems like it was a good time.
LOL This was based on a true story?! And here I was mustering up the courage to join in the story-telling. :")
Well, in some ways, I suppose what I came up with is even more relevant:
[Insert scene] lkiriakos (the itinerant alchemist) saunters in, compliments Wibbon's hat, desperately tries to avoid Steve's gaze, stumbles out a nearby window, and is promptly ignored.
Steve, who was hallucinating something completely unrelated, cries out "F*ing noob!" before requesting the services of an alchemist.
It was a beautiful spring day in Cystia. The change in season was appreciated by all throughout the kingdom, for it signified the ending of the long hard times the winter before had brought, and the chance for new beginnings. To symbolize this new start, Sovereign Killa decided to host a tournament. The deadline for signing up for the tournament had just ended, and the race to become stronger and more skilled began.
One of these contestants, the wandering paladin, Lord Ebon, was on his way to have his sword sharpened by his trusty blacksmith Mayana when he saw a most peculiar and unwelcome sight.
He saw Wibbons, another one of the tournament's contestants and his bunkmate since the old castle burned down, walking out of Mayana's smithy. Wibbons was no longer the young girl he'd been back then (apparently he'd taken a transformation potion to change the way he looked) and was instead a rather tall guy with an unkept beard. Wibbons didn't even notice Ebon as he walked past, and was instead focused on his newly sharpened sword. A pleasant smile sat on his face as he continued on his path.
A suspicious look enters Ebon's eyes, and he hurries into the smithy. "Hey May," he calls out as he steps into the shop.
"Give me a second," May calls back as she makes her way from the forge into the front, less scorchingly hot part of the smithy. "Oh, is that you Ebon?" she asks as she nears.
"Yeah. Say, wh-" Ebon is promptly interrupted.
"Ooh, does this mean you finally brought me your tournament gear to be refined?" she asks hopefully.
"Well I'm just practicing with my sword for now, so I was going to have you sharpen just that for now. I'll bring the rest of the armor over later..." he trails off as he hands his gleaming silver sword over to her. "Say, why was Wibbons here?" Ebon asks her.
"I was just helping her fix a few notches on his sword," Mayana tells him idly.
"His tournament armor?" Ebon asks.
"Yeah I think so."
Ebon gives her a confused look, but, recalling her blindness, speaks, "Why would you help Wibbons? He's competing against me at the tournament."
"Why not? He came and asked for my help, and I didn't want to refuse him."
"But you're my blacksmith. I don't want anyone else using your skills. He should go find his own blacksmith."
"It's fine Ebon. It's only another set of armor, so it's not like I'm going to be overloaded with work or anything."
Ebon hesitates as he mulls it over. "I suppose I'm fine with it. So long as you won't be overloaded with work. If it does become too much, you should stop helping him. I can't have you dropping from fatigue. Who would help me correct my mistakes then?"
Mayana nods as he speaks. "Sure Ebon, but refining a few more pieces of armor won't kill me. You should have more faith in me."
"Alright," Ebon turns around to leave, " I'll be back tomorrow to pick the sword."
"See you then," Mayana calls before immediately going back to the forge.
Ebon takes one last glance back, and then leaves the building with uncertainty clouding his face.
The Next Day
"... and surely though shan't forget to oil in between the joints? Wouldst thou also wrap my pantaloons separately to prevent erroneous scars? Thankee." Wibbons tells Mayana as he hands his armor over the smithy counter. "Oh, and I hope thou dost not mind, for I hath brought unto thee my spare armor set as well."
Mayana nods, "Yeah that'll be fine. Just leave that set with this one, and I'll get to it. Eventually."
"Thankee again May! I owe thou aplenty." Wibbons then proceeds to to leave the smithy.
Well, tries to.
Ebon, having arrived to pick up his sword, catches Wibbons by the arm and stops him from leaving. "Wibbons, what the hell are you doing?" he say this quietly, so May won't hear him.
"What dost thou mean?" Wibbons responds confused.
"I mean, why are you here? May is my tournament blacksmith. If you want someone to check your armor for the tournament, then go somewhere else."
"This revelation hath not occurred to mine mind ," Wibbons says and shakes his head back and forth.
"Bull. There's no way you didn't know that. How could your forget she was working for me after Sovereign End's tournament." Ebon raises his eyebrows curiously. "I mean she practically bragged that it was her paladin that won."
When Wibbons doesn't respond, Ebon continues. "Now you know. Take your armor and leave." Ebon then lets go of his arm and continues toward the counter where Mayana stands organizing the copious amounts of gear she has to oil, sharpen, and refine.
"He-" Ebon starts to greet Mayana, but Wibbons, who apparently stayed still after Ebon pushed past him, interrupts.
"Regrettably, I shall insist upon Milady improving my tournament gear."
Ebon doesn't turn around, and instead addresses May. "May, tell Wibbons to screw off. He's piled too much work on you for mine to get done as well."
Mayana frowns. "It's not that much. I can do it."
Ebon hesitates before pointing at a different set of armor across the room. "Who's armor is that over there?"
May, not even having to go check whose it is, responds, "Lady Leora's."
"Leora too? This is insane May. All of this tournament gear, and all in just a few weeks. You're going to end up overworking yourself."
"For fuck's sake Ebon. I'm not going to overwork myself. You go practice, I'll handle your equipment," May responds slightly exasperated.
Ebon starts shaking his head back and forth. The last tournament they participated in together Ebon only had her fix his leather armor and sword, even then it took awhile to get finished. There's no way she's going to be able to take care of three full sets of steel plate armor before it's time for the tournament, Ebon thinks sadly. His favorite blacksmith was going to overwork herself, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.
"Hear ye Ebon?" Wibbons asks him from across the room. "Milady just told thee to move thyself from her presence. Milady will help me whether thou likest it or not."
"Oh shut up Wibbons." A plan starts to form in Ebon's head, and he, surprising Wibbons, reaches to a rack on the smithy wall and pulls a dull sword from it.
He then momentarily lapses into Wibbons speech as he points the sword tip at Wibbons throat. "This affront shall not go unnoticed. Prepare thyself for holy retribution."
Wibbons pulls his freshly sharpened sword from his sheath, swings it against Ebon's own sword. Ebon, expecting this, deftly performs a maneuver where the tip of his sword is used to hit the hilt of the Wibbons sword. He does this successfully, and Wibbons' sword is sent through the air and into Ebon's left hand grasp. Ebon then raises the dull sword and prepares to strike at Wibbons, but Mayana puts herself between the two.
Never expecting May to be on the opposite side of his sword, Ebon stands there momentarily astonished, but then he remembers his plan.
"Fine. If you won't lighten May's workload by leaving then, I will. After all, I have just proven that I don't even need a sharp sword to beat you." Ebon let's the dull sword clatter the floor. "Unlike you, I don't need May to win." The words taste bitter even as he says them and guilt immediately comes over him when he sees May's expression change from confusion to sadness and anger.
"You can't be fuckin' serious Ebon!" May shouts at him.
"I am." is all he says as he gazes at May's hurt expression.
The room goes silent, and Ebon takes this as his cue to leave, so he grabs his newly sharpened sword form the smithy counter, leaves Wibbons' sword, then promptly walks out of the smithy with May's hurt expression seared into his memory.
Me being a saint mostly happened in pm's with me and May.
Oh, and Comedy is the one thing I'd say I have no idea how to write.
Since Wibn isn't going to write a reply, I figured I'd give this a shot. I'm running on about half an hour of sleep though, so please forgive the tired writing ^_^
Lady Leora shifted nervously as she waited outside of the blacksmith’s forge. The young maiden was a relative newcomer to the land of Cystia, and had yet to adjust to the persistent tension that always seemed to loom in the air. It was a beautiful land really, full of intelligent people and strange happenings. The inhabitants were wary of newcomers, so naturally the blue-haired girl had been nervous at first. The fact that her first encounter here had been with the villainous drunkard Steve certainly did not ease her discomfort. She had hardly set foot within Cystia’s borders before he demanded that she dance for him! Yet once she displayed a basic knowledge of Grammarly Magicks, the others had been surprisingly accepting. She had even been offered a place in the infamous Villain’s Lair.
A small amount of time had passed, but Leora was already beginning to feel at home. Though the atmosphere still occasionally caused her some distress, she could not help but feel that this was not the reason for her current anxiety. After all, things had been going quite well. She’d made a few new friends, learned some new spells, and had built up enough tolerance to Steve’s insults that they had begun to amuse her. No, this was not her typical “new girl” apprehension. Lady Leora was preparing for her first tournament.
Every applicant had to design their own armor, something the frail girl had very little experience with. She glanced nervously at the piece of sweat-stained parchment in her hand. These blueprints represented life to her-- a chance to sharpen her skills by fire, or to be cursed with eternal SHAME. Calm down, the maiden told herself. You’ve got luck on your side.
Indeed she had. Even when her designs were still in their early stages, her participation in the contest had caught the attention of the legendary blacksmith Mayana. This wonderful lady also happened to own the forge that Leora now stood outside. It was no secret that Lord Ebon, the victor of the previous contest, had relied heavily on Mayana’s aid. For such a talented smith to approach Lady Leora and offer her services… the newcomer was quite lucky indeed.
A breath of relief escaped Leora’s lungs as Mayana emerged from the smithy. She was smiling. That was a good sign, right?
“Umm… h-how does it look?”
“Great!” May replied, chuckling slightly at her customer’s nervous expression. “Obviously I can’t say much since all you’ve built so far is this one gauntlet, but it seems to be in working order. There were a few minor flaws here and there, but I got those smoothed and polished out for ya.”
“T-thank you!” Leora exclaimed, overwhelmed with gratitude.
May nodded. “Look, I gotta warn you. I’m workin’ on Sir Wibbon’s armor for this tournament, and Sir Ebon is supposed to drop his off any day now. I’d be happy to look over your future work, but I may be swamped for a bit. Those two require… extensive repairs.”
“Of course!” The blue-haired girl nodded furiously. She was amazed that she even had access to the same resources as such prominent competitors. “Thank you so very much! As I’ve said before, I totally understand if you’re too busy to look at my designs. You’re a wonderful person for even offering…”
“It’s alright,” May smiled. “I’ll see you soon!”
Leora practically skipped as she headed away from the forge. Her happy look soon turned to one of concern though, as he spotted Lord Ebon on his way to Mayana’s workplace. The man looked exhausted and sullen.
“Are you alright, Lord Ebon?” He was her competition, but she wished no ill upon him. His arrogant demeanor had frustrated her at first, but she had come to discover that she rather liked the ambitious young paladin. Perhaps Lady Mizal had been right… Leora was a bit naive. Still, he seemed friendly enough.
“I’ve just had to scrap my entire blueprint,” he replied. “Two full weeks of work, and I’ve got nothing to show for it.”
“How horrible!” Leora sympathised with this completely. She’d had to scrap one of her earlier plans in favor of the one she now carried. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something great. You are a champion, after all.”
“Of course,” Ebon resumed his normal, confident stance. He smiled briefly at his opponent before riding off toward the smithy.
Leora returned to celebrating her own accomplishment, but as quickly interrupted again. Loud noises and angry shouts were coming from somewhere nearby. She struggled to identify the source of the noise. Her connection to this realm was shaky at best, and unfortunate side effect of the move from her homeland of Dormus. It left her with an awful sense of direction, and would occasionally force her to black out and miss entire events. It took her a moment, but she realized with horror that the noises were coming from the forge. My friends are in there! The anxious girl rushed to the scene just in time to witness a bloody battle. Ebon, Wibbon, and Mayana were all brandishing weapons at each other. May was the only one to take notice of her arrival.
“Leora!” the backsmith barked, her eyes locked on Ebon in a deadly glare. “It looks like I’ll have more time for you after all. Lord Ebon no longer desires my services.”
“Wait, what?” Leora blinked, thoroughly confused. Her vision blurred as her connection began to slip again. She hated to see everyone fighting like this, but a single thought gnawed at the back of her mind. It was a selfish thought. The young lady struggled to push it from her mind, but as she began to slip from reality, it only became clearer. No… this wasn’t her… the thought formed in the front of her mind as she collapsed and the world went black.
How lucky for me.
Do... do you not know Mayana's blind?
I’m still currently on shitty phone internet and every time I was trying to scroll down it kept going back to start so the only way to effectively get rid of the italics was to just “select all” and turn off the italics.
No text was lost.
Oh look, there were Council stories and no one bothered to tell me. That's nice. Good job, Ebon and Mizal, I enjoyed them. One was far better than the other and actually made me laugh, but I shall do no ego stroking today.
Ebon told me to write something, and this was the most interesting thing that has happened me as of late.
Chapter XVIII: Patronizing Eunuchs
Steve stepped off the boat onto the pier, taking a deep breath of the shitty Cystian air. Yes, he truly was home. Although the opium dens of home certainly had their appeal, with their drugs, drink, whores, drugs, whores, drugs, drugs...
Steve flew into a blind panic as he realized what he'd left for what he'd returned to, and desperately turned around and began sprinting down the pier, yanking down his trousers and shitting himself in imitation of a bird to reduce his weight and run faster. Unfortunately for both him and the Cystians, this only led to him stumbling and falling face first into the waters.
"Fucking void!" Steve swore loudly, swimming to the surface as he watched his ferry depart from the docks. He grabbed a handhold in the pier, and yanked himself back onto it, pulling up his pants.
Steve swore for a few moments, before shaking his head. No bother, he wouldn't let this get him down. He had returned to his glorious kingdom, this was a time for celebration, not mourning just because he'd missed out on some drugs and drink and whores and drugs...
Steve once again attempted to jump onto the ferry in another blind panic, before ending up in the ocean again. After another few cycles of surfacing, climbing onto the pier, panicking and diving into the water again, he finally managed to regain a fraction of composure.
Steve took a brief look around, staring at the Cystians at the dock. They were mostly a mixture of slave-masters attempting to whip immigrating newbs into something that didn't deserve to be horrifically flayed, returning champions from crusades against the cogites, waving blood-stained banners of anatomically correct genitalia, or trolls trying to sneak back in through adding a "2" to the names on their passports. Surprisingly, there was no welcome party. Perhaps there'd been a holy war over whether his absence was a test or the apocalypse, and everyone else had died fighting. Or perhaps they had doubted his return, and he'd find hundreds of limp bodies hanging from every tree in sight, all unable to survive without him. Yes, that must be it.
Steve began walking into the town, his mace slung over his shoulder. It wasn't long before he came across a surviving Ford Drone, with a blue-haired Cogite tranny in tow. What a delight! Steve hadn't had a good battle in a while! This would truly be fun!
"Oh, delightful!" Steve exclaimed happily. "Hello, Ford! Hell, Ford's tranny!"
Steve raised his mace in preparation for the Cogite to start charging at him, its arms and possible genitalia flailing at him in outrage. The Cogite, however looked to Steve with a bemused expression, raising an eyebrow and stepping back, her hands grabbing for something to be used as a weapon. A very reasonable response, admittedly.
"I'm not a tranny," the Cogite said, unashamed.
This was bizarre. The girl was unashamed of her cisgenderness, thus making it clear she was not a Cogite. That left only one option: that Ford had hired a whore. Understandable, admittedly. If Steve had been born a Ford, he would've almost certainly hired a whore to lose his virginity. Well, if Steve had been born a Ford he would've strangled himself with the umbilical cord, but if that had failed he would've bought a whore.
"Oh, my apologies, Ford's whore," Steve smiled, sure that he'd cleared up the situation.
"I'm not a whore!" the whore exclaimed in annoyance.
"You're spending time with Ford," Steve said in confusion. "Oh, sex worker! You're a sex worker, right? That's the proper term."
This whore was certainly caught up with using the proper terms. Perhaps she had Cogite blood in her after all.
"I'm not a sex worker! I'm Ford's girlfriend! And I have a name, it's Leora!"
Ford made a disgusting, chittering noise of approval, before vomiting Ford eggs onto the ground in an attempt to spread his Fordness. Steve paused in confusion, barely having time to crush the Ford eggs before they hatched into Chanbots. He quickly attempted to tear Leora's face off, certain he'd reveal another Ford mask underneath, only to find himself pulling at the young whore's face muscles.
"You're real?! Ford's fucking a real woman?!" Steve said, aghast.
So far, Ford's sexual desires had been contained to himself, the ginger hick who cooked burgers and an Earth Elemental he liked to jack it to. If that changed and Ford's sexual desires expanded, they were all (literally) fucked.
"The Hive shall conquer," Ford cackled, eggs dripping down the corner of his mouth as Steve failed to hold back the desire to vomit.
"You're attracted to him? You're sexually attracted to that!?" Steve asked in horror.
"Well actually, not exactly," Leora confessed, clearly filled with shame over this disgusting revelation. "I'm asexual."
"Oh, I get it!" Steve nodded.
The Mods had a habit of making eunuchs of anyone they disliked. Well, the Undead King had a habit of doing that. Tim, Chris, Taco, the Penguin and many more had already been made asexual Eunuchs at his fucked up whims. This was just clearly another victim, a young, preteen boy who had lost his cock and balls to a sadistic fuck and now had to pretend to be a chick like the vampire from Let Me In.
Author's Note: Did you guys know that? In the film Let Me In with that girl who would grow up to be super hot, where the human boy falls in love with the vampire girl, that vampire was actually a young boy who had been castrated and had his cock and balls cut off, and they just had it be played by a chick and had it be a straight relationship and... oh man, that shit was fucked up. It's just that they made the androgynous castrated vampire boy a chick because the Swedes are fucked up and ruin everything. Ah, nevermind, let's continue.
"Oh, you poor, fucked up thing," Steve nodded, reaching for the boy's breaches to see the Eunuch scar.
"Hey!" Leora said, jumping back from Steve's grasp.
"What?" Steve asked. "I just want to see how the Undead King cut you! I can admire the man's technique, I'm self-assured enough to admit that!"
"No one cut me! Leave me alone!" Leora shrieked, as the Ford Drone cackled in ecstasy while making no moves to defend his eunuch.
"I'm not trying to do...!" Steve began to say.
Suddenly, the ground began to shudder. Suddenly, a trio of large, ten-legged monstrous armored bastards burst forth from the ground. Steve screamed as the pincers attacked, heading straight for his genitals. He barely managed to dodge the first attack, planting his boot in the creature's face and sending it stumbling over. He brought the full force of his face down on the second, shattering it's shell and crushing its brain. Steve narrowly dodged another pincer, as the first monster charged straight for him. He leaped into the air, landing on its head as he brought his mace down hard on the creature's face, killing it with a single blow. The third monster came screeching at him, but with its two comrades dead, it stood no chance. Steve planted his feet, knocking the creature onto his back with a powerful swing and sending it flipping on its back. Now completely undefended, Steve proceeded to bash in its soft underbelly, crushing its organs and mashing it to shit as he killed the fucker.
"Fuck that itched like a cunt!" Steve said, tearing off a pincer from the monster and hefting it over his shoulder for dinner later.
"What the hell was that?!" Leora said, in a mixture of fear and disgust.
"Oh yeah... sorry, that's my bad," Steve said, scratching his head and crotch. "I was on holidays, and there were a lot of who... it's just that that's going to be a reoccurring problem for a week or two, I need to get a shampo... fuck it, it doesn't concern you fucks."
"Fine! I have to go prepare for the tournament anyway!" Leora complained.
"Tournament? There's a tournament?" Steve asked, before remembering he had taken on the role of Digit's patron in the tournament.
Steve frowned, realizing he'd become Digit's patron. The man couldn't swing a sword, couldn't write, and unless his constant masturbation to children was some kind of wax on, wax off thing to learn sword techniques, Steve had went to a dog race and backed a cat on this one.
"Fuck!" Steve said. "I might've fucked myself on this. Eunuch! Oh young boy, come back here!"
Steve raced after the Eunuch, whacking her in the back of the legs and sending her tumbling to the ground, before offering her a hand.
"Young boy, Leora, I'm here to offer my assistance!" Steve said. "I'd like to act as your patron in the tournament, after my last apprentice... well, he just kind of kept jacking it to children. Doesn't matter, don't get involved.
"What? I don't want your help! Leave me alone!" Leora said.
Ford attempted to protect his girlfriend, or lay more eggs or whatever, but Steve killed the drone with a single swing of his mace, before focusing on the now terrified girl in front of him.
"Shut up, eunuch, I'm helping you now," Steve said, kicking Leora in the side. "Get up, you lazy fuck! You have work to do!"
"I already have Mayana helping!"
"The blind chick? Fuck her, she's useless!"
"The... what?" Leora asked, clearly confused.
"The..." Steve said, wondering how his apprentice had failed to notice Mayana's constant stumbling, the constant jokes about her blindness, or the gaping holes in her head where her eyes should be, before shrugging. "Shut up! Go start your training, you stupid, stupid bitch!"
"I already started my trai...!"
Steve kicked her again.
"Stop feeling pride, you stupid cunt!" Steve said.
For the rest of the day, Steve proceeded to kick and yell at the poor Eunuch, badly beating her when it amused him. This gravely damaged her ability to train, but Steve never thought ahead much.
As the sun set in the distance, Steve continued kicking Leora in the side as the young girl passed out from the pain from the beatings. Steve proceeded to give her a few more kicks, before deciding to let her rest.
"Well, I somehow chose to act as patron to another lazy fucker," Steve complained. "This might be my fault. Sleep tight, Leora. The real training shall begin in the morning.
Steve sat down next to his badly bruised and battered victim, lighting his pipe as he leaned back against the wall of the local blacksmith's, where a tantrum was breaking out inside, but he paid it no attention, instead focused on his failure of an apprentice.
"I shouldn't have come back here," Steve sighed. "I shouldn't have left the opium dens, with their drugs, and drink, and whores, and drugs and whores..."
And once again, Steve found himself desperately sprinting to the pier in hopes of reaching the boat back to the opium dens.
Fascinating the critique you have is that you were eager to take my help, not that your boyfriend reproduces through puking eggs or you being a preteen boy who had his cock hacked off.
My bet is on Leora. Steve can't keep up with her.
Pretty sure we're on the same side. Hell, her story's not even particularly insulting about me.
The bet can still go on! Who thinks this partnership will last to the end? vs Who thinks this partnership will fail before then?
I vote for the partnership lasting to the end! \o
This one is my favorite so far.