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one month ago
Commended by mizal on 2/25/2021 9:42:51 PM
Tim's body went limp as he bled out at the dinner table, his neck was sliced part way through. Mad looked from the head of the table at the man who had drawn a steak knife and proceeded to ruin the mood. She gulped down the rest of her tea and sighed. He was covered in Tim's blood now, and the pressure of the blood spout had died down from the initial attack. "You're wrong." Chris said, throwing the knife aside. Mad looked into Chris's eyes.

"You're really testing my patience, Chris." Mad remained calm.

Chris spat blood on her face. "Fight me yourself, faggot. Everytime we do this I only want to kill you more."

Mad wiped her face off. "And here, I went through all the trouble of bringing our mutual friend to dinner with us."

Chris's blood boiled. He could feel the tunnel vision of rage taking over. "I'll find a way to kill you. I don't care how powerful you are. I'll make you feel hell unlike anything you've wrought - even if I have to drag you along with me."

Mad gave him a pitiful look. "You gonna cut my neck like you did his?"

Chris picked up another knife and stabbed it into his own chest, twisting the blade before pulling it out. "I'll find a way." he angrily took his last breath.

Mad, Tim, and Chris sat at a dinner table together. Chris held his steak knife firmly. "I can do this all fucking day you remorseless piece of shit." Tim looked confused at his friends' sudden anger. This confusion was followed by sudden fear as Chris stood and slit his neck. Tim choked and coughed up blood before his body went limp and his head crashed onto the table. "Come at me, bitch! SHOW YOURSELF YOU FUCKING COWARD!" Chris screamed in fury as he stabbed himself in the heart, twisting the knife before drawing it from his body. As his vision became dark and he began to fall over, he saw her twisted smile.

Using the last of his consciousness he swiftly wrapped his arms around her, and stabbed through the back of her head and into the front of his own.

Chris lay fatigued in a patch of moss overgrowing stoney bricks. He relaxed from his heavy breathing with a sigh and sat up to see the dusty remains of a high level crystal mage. "Maybe I'm getting too old to be going this far alone." he thought. He looked to his watch. It had been broken for years. Inscribed on the face was a note from his old friend. "Sorry about the watch. - Tim"

Chris stood and his stomach growled. He could tell it had been a few days since he last ate. "Guess I'll head back." He pulled out a piece of paper from his breastpocket. "22 - 34 - 51 - 9" he committed the path to memory. It would lead him to the safezone.

So he traveled back the way he came. Through the labyrinth.

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one month ago
I have no idea what's going on but I am in this so I am inclined to like it.

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one month ago
Oooh this is the labyrinth thing. No wonder you were in such a hurry to wrap the other one up.

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one month ago
Actually this was made up on the spot. I had a completely different set of ideas for what labyrinth was going to pertain to before. The only thing this has in common is being cys fanfic and the name labyrinth. I think it'll end up really cool though.

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one month ago

A woman can't host a nice peaceful dinner party anymore. . .

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one month ago
Commended by mizal on 2/25/2021 9:43:04 PM
The old guru stayed in calm meditation while he listened to her story. "After that, I hurtled through space for a long time." Cricket said to him, "I was lucky enough to pass close enough to a star and absorb it. Once I had that kind of power I took the form you see now and searched for greater sources of power."

"What did you seek from this power?" he sat motionless as he spoke.

"I wanted revenge at first. Then perhaps to be as powerful as my full form in the underworld." Crickets' fiery clothing flicked the air showing her inner distrubance.

"You were unsure?"

"I was." Cricket breathed with the old man and felt weightless. It was not the weightlessness of overwhelming power, but the absence of intruding sensations and thoughts. Her mind cleared and she continued her story in meditation with him. "I desire power, this much I know."

"This troubles you?" The guru noted Crickets' flames had calmed down, and he felt the conversation become a little safer.

"It does." They both breathed slowly. "I have blocked myself from moving forward. My self-awareness only furthers my frustration. Though I possess now the strength of several stars I feel powerless and that makes me angry."

"This place has a way of bringing out the worst in all beings," the man opened his eyes revealing empty sockets. "I sought beauty beyond all else, and this place - this labyrinth - took it all away from me." Cricket frowned at the thought of losing all the power she had only recently obtained. "I probably will not live long enough to witness what my mind has long since forgotten, but I have no desire to try my luck after what I've been through."

"That's why you won't leave here?" Given the great quantity of foolish and pitiful monsters she had come across on her journey, Cricket had noted the lack of intrusion upon their conversation.

"Yes. I have not been lucky in finding safe areas. I will stay here so that I may die in peace." he closed his eyes and went back into a meditative state. Cricket took a deep breath before standing; her cloak of flames riled at the edges and along her shoulders. "Be wary on your way." he said.

"Hold out your hands." Cricket told him. She covered her hands over his, and after an initial flash of heat he felt something move.

"Oh?"

"At least now you won't die alone." Cricket smiled with the old man. He felt his warm friend crawl up his arm. A tarantula made from divine flame made its way to the top of his head.

"The gift of a friend." The man smiled weakly, elated by a new companion. "I am sorry I could not do anything for you in return."

"Don't worry about it. It felt good to calm down and just talk, but I'm starting to get fired up again. I think I'll start by getting revenge." Crickets eyes flared with determination as she walked away.

"I thought you said the mountain woman died?" the guru tilted his head in confusion and the spider produced a flaming question mark to match.

"This revenge isn't for me." Crickets blood boiled as she looked upon the labyrinth with hatred.



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one month ago
Can't believe you brought back that Cricket skank, the Mountain defeated her fair and square!

That was so much more wholesome than how things usually go when she puts tarantulas on blind people though.

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one month ago
Ford's original ~ story thread for when it eventually sinks down the list.

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one month ago
Commended by mizal on 3/5/2021 5:53:48 PM
Mizal rose from the lake of blood, gasping for air and choking on the overwhelming fumes. The pool she had been face down in was about a foot deep, warm, viscous, and bright red. It felt fresh. She gagged from the smell and let loose what little was left in her stomach. She was covered head to toe in blood and missing all garments. She had to whip it off her hands in order to wipe her eyes of it. The emerald of her eyes stood out from the surrounding mass of red, but she soon regretted the decision to look around. Corpses drained and mangled lay around her piled too high to see over. A landmark did stand above the rest - what appeared to be a nearby cliff, whose surface bared a visage so tortured she could hardly look away.

She began trudging through the thick motionless blood, noting that the surface below was smooth and solid like stone. This made the warmth even more unnerving and generally gross. As she trudged she felt confused. She didn't recognize herself or her form. It was a troublesome thought, interrupted by the sudden tight grip of a hand around her ankle.

Mizal woke up in a cold sweat, shaking. The campfire still held some soft embers and the moonlight shone brightly through the cave entrance she had settled in for the night. She felt for the pistol strapped across her chest and for her missing arm through an empty sleeve. After she calmed down, the relit fire reflected boldly against her golden eyes and revealed her age through shadows on her weathered face.

She hadn't had a dream so intense in over a decade. She checked the clothing that was set near to dry and decided the socks were well enough to wear through the night, but her heart sunk and chills ran up her spine when she noticed a dark handprint on the ankle that was grabbed in her dream. "Shit." She cursed in part due to the unknown nature of this new situation but mostly because whatever it was, she would be tired while dealing with it.

She slept that night with one eye open, and a hand on her pistol, as best she could.

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one month ago
Best character time!

But where the fuck is my arm!?


(I know you said something about maybe wanting to edit this, you may have forgotten already but let me know if you need the edit lock removed.)

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one month ago
Commended by TharaApples on 3/9/2021 6:09:37 AM
[music] [img]

Thara had meticulously planned for everything with the utmost secrecy, but the difference in power was too great to overcome. She lay before the throne of her father, impaled by spears at all angles and bleeding out on the floor. The spears dissipated in a puff of magic. End has not so much as stood up from the throne and yet he foiled her attempt to overthrow him. Thara's regenerative curse was all that kept her alive and conscious. She had been drained of her mana and drained of backup plans. She coughed up blood and breathed heavily in an attempt to stand up. Before she could get on her feet, End finally moved.

End grabbed her by the neck, choking her to within inches of breaking her spine. Her regeneration curse, which he had bestowed many eons ago, made her essentially immortal at the price of being conscious through all pain. It was not the choking that most hurt her though. As End raised Thara off her feet, she felt a sense of dread. Bone cancer wracked upon her at an accelerated pace. Her bones became beds of needles growing outwards from within her body. She tried to scream as every cell was tortured. Soon enough the bone began to break through skin. One of her eyes came out through the socket, skewered by a needle of bone. All she could do was choke on blood and twitch uncontrollably.

End healed her instantly, but her relief from the pain was short-lived. "I'm not angry." End said, strategically controlling the spread of bone this time, "just disappointed." He made the bones grow inward through the marrow, building up pressure until Thara's arms burst from the implosion. He did the same to her legs - starting at the bottom of her feet and causing the sensation to spread to her ankles and knees. The impending sense of where the pain would be next made it all the worse. He did this while letting it spread in outward needles at her hips, ribcage, and skull. Soon she was but a perforated husk of bleeding skin, still conscious; unable, even, to writhe in her own sorrow and blood.

Thara healed her eye so that she could glare at her father. End used his free hand to conjure a necklace. It was of gold with an amber crystal at its center. "Here: a gift for making an effort, at least." End let the necklace wrap around her crushed throat. "You rely far too much on things you do not fully understand. This necklace will severely limit that power you're so fond of." Thara continued to glare at him with her one good eye.

End opened a dark swirling portal. "Don't bother coming back until you've learned your lesson." He threw the limp sack of pain through the portal.

Thara festered and bled in a hallway of cold, overgrown, stone bricks. She was regenerating much slower than she was used to. Flies circled about her and moss grew upon her arms while she focused on the defeat. No matter how much she thought in hindsight she could not see a path to victory. Her past naivety frustrated her.

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one month ago

I guess this is good if you're into Thara abuse. Curious to see where story Thara can possibly go from here, though.

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one month ago
I wish I could double commend this.

Haha, take that, bitch.