(Yeah, well the RP forums isn't going to get better with people not trying to make an effort to make it stay active and such.)
(Simple oof.)Murphmarlo said:((Also it turns out I accidentally pressed the button to ignore Chir's posts. Oops.))
1. Both Mandrake here, and a person named Chasm Guardian have a character named Xaniel, who are both insane, as said by Mandrake here as the 'insane guy', and by Chasm himself with 'Xaniel Solyom is stupid for a character. Overpowered, rude, annoying. Mentally insane. Self-centered.'.Mandrake 167 said:It was always morning somewhere in the morning. It was a given fact. When one place was night, the other was the day, and somewhere in that day laid a morning. And in that foggy morning, five people lounged near a misty pond, shivering at the cold dewey air. Did they really exist? Doubtful. Did they have their impact nonetheless? Also doubtful. Were they the tellings of something lurking beyond the shadows, out of reach and inconceivable, yet a looming threat? Of course.
Because inside that pond was an image that encompassed everything the world here had. The past, the present, and the future of this calamity.
"What a show," one of the people said, his mangled hair and crooked smile betraying the insanity that laid beneath. He kicked at the dirt that was hardened below the thick fog, "I wish we could just trample over it, step it flat like a pancake!"
"You've tried that once before though, haven't ya?" Karac asked, repeatedly flipping a nickel into the air, "How did that fare for you again? Right. You got forcibly expelled."
Karac was a mysterious figure with a bright lime cloak-like jacket that covered him head to feet and left what seemed to be a rush of black hair and uncompromising silver eyes for anyone to see. Unlike the other three, he wasn't shivering. After all, he was from this world, whilst the others could only call themselves visitors. Unwelcome visitors in fact (although not in Karac's eyes).
Additionally, he was the protagonist of this story. So, of course, his plot armor would shield him from the cold.
"Well, I do have to agree that there were better empires around," an androgynous figure dressed in a trenchcoat and fedora said, "This is like the Aztec Empire, and when you compare it to the Europeans: Absolutely nothing." The figure took out a banana from their pockets and bit into it without peeling it first.
"Nothing?" a sweet young boy who was leaning sleepily on a halberd asked, "Isn't that a bit eurocentric?"
"No, I don't mean it like that, idiot," the trenchcoat clad figure said, pointing the banana accusingly at the young boy, "They were both very strong empires that had their own weaknesses. But do you know what was the significant difference between them?"
"Human sacrifices?" the young boy guessed.
"Yes, but no," trenchcoat person said, "The Aztecs didn't have the wheel. Now take that info into this world we have, and compare it to something like... I dunno... Pensalir. Do you get what I mean? The depth of the Aztecs was much lower. When you don't have the wheel, but both of them still have an empire, the difference is day and night, get it?"
The young boy chewed on his lip as he tried to grasp the controversial history lesson being thrown his way.
"You have one group that has depth, in each individual person, in each individual plot, and then you have one group that doesn't have that depth. Everything is dim, lacking, each individual person, boring, and without any depth. Which world would you rather be in? The boring one, the Aztecs, this one, or the shining example of storytelling, the Europeans?"
"What sort of bull are you spewing?" a robotic voice said, coming from a person who looked more like a machine than human, "I know that you get your power from arguments that you believe are right, but you can't just spew puke like that and expect us to understand the insanity."
"Ok boomer," trenchcoat person said, walking towards the cyborg, "You wanna fight? I got the advantage. I'm right."
"I'll fight you any day, plantain boy," the cyborg said.
But before either of them could make a move at each other, Karac finally moved. He had been listening to plantain boy's argument, which was so metaphorical (and unintentionally racist) that Karac knew that most people wouldn't understand. But Karac understood every word of it. The description of the world he lived in, compared to the utopia-like world that existed before it all and was abandoned.
So with one flick of his hand, a nickel was sent flying towards the cyborg, which impaled him in the head, leaving behind a coin-sized crater. With a thump, the cyborg fell to the ground, dead.
"I totally understand what you mean," Karac said to plantain boy, "Just don't risk your life justifying it, please."
"So what now?" the young boy said, completely unfazed by the blood of it all.
"We watch it burn!" the insane guy said, "Just as this world deserves!"
"I kinda wish that I couldn't have jumped into the chaos here," the young boy said, "Rile it all up."
"You'll have another chance at some point," Karac said, "All you have to do is take advantage of it when it comes."
"Let's get outta here," the insane guy said, "I don't want to deal with all these convoluted metaphors anymore... or the stupid memories."
"Where will you go?" plantain boy asked Karac.
"Well, I'll be getting out of this nightmare," Karac replied, "I've been stuck in it for way too long, with its nonsensical lore, dizzying pace, and thin existence. It's a sad world that this has become."
"Wait, you're in pain?" the young boy asked, "I wouldn't have ever guessed it. You were so into the destruction plans that we had."
"This place is a dumpster fire," Karac said, "And I'm the burning trash."
"That's... a horrible metaphor," plantain boy said, "I'm sorry that this metaverse's transformation has done that to you."
"Well, I'm off," the young boy said, "I've got felonies to commit."
"It's time for me to rest," the insane guy said. He turned towards Karac, and for a moment, Karac could see the valiant hero with the head tattoo and curved sword that he had always talked about, "Thank you Karac. Although we weren't able to help each other, I am glad that we could have your presence."
"No problem, Xaniel," Karac replied.
Karac watched as the young boy heaved his halberd over his shoulder and walked away with the insane guy until it was just the plantain boy left.
"Three months of planning," plantain boy said, "And then six months of doing nothing. Then we have this. A desperate view of the destruction. I wonder how No Name and Mr. Winters is doing."
And with that, the plantain boy pulled the cyborg's dead body over his shoulder, popped another banana into his mouth, and moved into the overwhelming fog after the young boy and the insane guy. Until it was just Karac.
Karac silently fished out another nickel and raised the deadly coin up to his mouth, before he tipped back his head and swallowed the coin.
What a horrible place.
You were right indeed.(Simple oof.)
“'Your efforts will contribute in turning this place into a better one...' ... Glorious, yet empty words. I was pretty passionate in the past. Being responsible for a whole department, how good is that? I didn’t even like drinking coffee then. Should I say I developed the taste for coffee when I learned the bitterness of life... Or is it the need to stay awake? Of course we don’t need to sleep at all, but the mood, you know?”
A few moments pass.
"Guess I was right. Even when people are living in a place like this, it's still a abandoned place. Abandoned of all passion, hope, and all the sort. Guess I was right indeed."
(Guess, I was right, indeed. So. It appears that even if Bubby were to return, you people wouldn't even give a damn. That would easily mean some of you were putting your faith into someone who wouldn't be able to do what you think they would be able to do. Figures. But I think you should know of the quote 'it takes a village'. Not contributing, even when it seems hopeless, only further weakens what you are striving for. Oh well. Not like people are reading this much, are they?)
"...Quiet, isn’t it? Like as if you woken up early to walk the streets during the dawn. It’s always hard to believe such a quiet place like this was once engulfed by pandemonium."
"Oh well. Might as well leave. If anyone isn't in some brain dead state, no intended offense, but's the truth given what is right now, if they are determined enough, they'll find me."
*Begins to leave.*
Maybe making it different. Maybe we will never will. I, personally, would like to move on to another world, one where we could apply everything we learned without the hassle of caring with the weight of the chains of 1631 times of continuity.((Maybe we all could somehow do this again someday, somehow, with it going well unlike all the other reboot attempts. That would be really nice.))
//you´ll see. we were already in break, even when we didnt speak it. All of the time we went dark on this place was our soul asking us for a break, even when our minds didn´t take it as so.((Either way, waiting a bit and taking a longer break could help.))