- Joined
- Sep 9, 2018
- Messages
- 165
- Awards
- 1
- Essence
- €19,722
- Coin
- ₡35,100
- Tokens
- 120
- World
- Mesa Roja
- Profile
- Click Here
- Faction
- Babylonia
Alva sat before the small television tucked in the corner of her room, tapping her foot irritably as she watched the “heroes” of Nausicaa parade across the screen. Each passing interview only served to annoy her further, with each failing to so much as mention Tobias’ heroism, reaching a boiling point when some harlot stripped her top off on live television. With a wave of her hand, the psychic switched the tv off and sighed, slumping in her chair.
“Oh, what’s wrong, Alva?” A sarcastically sweet voice asked as the heir of the cult felt an arm drape itself around her shoulders and a wicked grin came into her peripheral vision. “Sad that no one is talking about your precious Toby?”
“Don’t you have some boots you should be licking, Reginleif?” Alva snapped, shrugging the unwelcome arm away. Her fellow cultist raised her arms innocently, taking a few steps back, though her wicked grin didn’t slip in the slightest.
“Well, we can't all be royalty.” Leif shrugged before dipping into a mock curtsy, bowing low as she lifted the hem of her robes. “But if it would please the great Alva Vrell, I’ll be on my way. Without delivering the message from her father, of course.”
The raven-haired girl’s eyes widened as she suddenly lunged forward, catching Reginleif’s wrist before she could leave, holding the albino cultist in place and trying to ignore her smug look. “...you never said that you had a message for me.”
“Come now, neither of us have time for that clearly.” The sadistic cultist said. “I have some boots to go lick, remember? Your father’s are surely dirty from the deep shit you keep getting him into.”
Alva bristled, unable to ignore her unruly subordinate’s jabs, but managed to resist the urge to start verbally abusing the fool. “Just give me the message.”
“He says that you did a good job in Nausicaa, for once.” Leif replied, though Alva was sure that she added that last bit herself. “You can go ahead and bring that idiot Tobias back.”
“He- he approved?” The heir of the cult repeated, almost collapsing in her chair from relief. By Gal’skap, how long had it been since she had received his approval?
“Yep.” Her fellow cultist tutted. “Don’t know why. He went, lost Mageslayer and died. But, the scion’s word is the scion’s word. Nothing I can do to change it.”
Alva wasn’t even listening at that point. Next thing that Reginleif knew, she had been telekinetically shoved out of the room, landing straight on her ass in the hall.
“Oh, Mageslayer, Tobias, my two treasured blades.” The psion incanted, holding each of her hands out expectantly. “I have need of you yet. Return to me.”
In the void between this reality and the next, the consciousness that called itself Tobias sat dejectedly, holding his knees to his chest. He wasn’t sad, per se. More… empty. He had done his best, fought hard, and died. Just as he had intended. But he wasn’t satisfied. He wished that he could have killed Jones. He wished that he could have returned home victorious. He wished that he was just… better.
The knight errant raised his gaze just a little, staring out into the void, and almost immediately regretted it. Burning in the abyss, like a violet star, he could see Sigmund’s consciousness. Most minds twinkled subtly in the world between worlds, invisible to all but the most attentive. Servants of Gal’skap burned a little brighter. For example, he could see Lady Alva’s consciousness nearby, gently glowing like a warm fire on a cold night. But Sigmund’s mind was something else altogether, even larger and more intense than her father's, a supernova that refused to fade, endlessly burning in the void. But that wasn’t the worst thing he saw in that nothingness.
It was hard to see, almost eclipsed by the prominence of the eight scion, but he could feel it there.
Her mind.
The warrior gently touched his chest, wincing as his fingers brushed over the scars. As if that witch hadn’t taken enough from him already… Just feeling her presence was enough to strip away whatever remained of his confidence. He was such a joke. Why did they trust him enough to go to Nausicaa. Why did they-
His self-loathing was cut abruptly short by Alva’s voice in his ear, letting him know that he had succeeded, that she still needed him. There must have been some sort of mistake. Maybe it was just out of pity, or maybe some sort of guilt at bringing him into that situation. Yeah, that sounded right. She must have realised how useless he was and felt bad that she had sent him to Nausicaa. Morbidly satisfied with his conclusion, Tobias was ready to stay in the world between worlds and spare her the embarrassment when he felt an insistent tug on his existence.
Before he could object, he felt her hand take his, and he was yanked back into reality.
“Aah… ah.” Tobias gasped, his lungs suddenly filling with air. It was easy to forget to breathe when you were just a mind projecting a body on an empty void.
“Welcome back.” Alva said, smiling warmly at her knight and holding his hand tight, making sure that he could keep on his newly resurrected feet.
“I… thanks.” He said, shakily taking a seat in the chair that she had been using to watch tv. “Did… did I miss anything?”
“Apparently father was happy with your work.” The heir said happily. “Reginleif came by to taunt but I didn’t let her get to me… too much, at least.”
“And Mageslayer?”
“Right here.” Alva said, showing him the blade before sheathing it. “Ah… I’m glad that things turned out well, but I have to say, these Nausicaa ‘heroes’ are awful.”
“How so?” The knight errant asked, mystified.
“Not one of them mentioned you and your noble sacrifice.” Alva huffed.
“My Lady, please, I didn’t do anything worth-“
“Vetoed.” She said quickly.
“I-“
“As your Lady, the heir of the New Mindbreaker Order, second daughter of Erik Vrell, I command you.” Alva demanded, pointing her finger at Tobias. “Be nice to yourself.”
In spite of himself, the warrior couldn’t help but laugh.
“As you wish, Lady Alva.”
“Oh, what’s wrong, Alva?” A sarcastically sweet voice asked as the heir of the cult felt an arm drape itself around her shoulders and a wicked grin came into her peripheral vision. “Sad that no one is talking about your precious Toby?”
“Don’t you have some boots you should be licking, Reginleif?” Alva snapped, shrugging the unwelcome arm away. Her fellow cultist raised her arms innocently, taking a few steps back, though her wicked grin didn’t slip in the slightest.
“Well, we can't all be royalty.” Leif shrugged before dipping into a mock curtsy, bowing low as she lifted the hem of her robes. “But if it would please the great Alva Vrell, I’ll be on my way. Without delivering the message from her father, of course.”
The raven-haired girl’s eyes widened as she suddenly lunged forward, catching Reginleif’s wrist before she could leave, holding the albino cultist in place and trying to ignore her smug look. “...you never said that you had a message for me.”
“Come now, neither of us have time for that clearly.” The sadistic cultist said. “I have some boots to go lick, remember? Your father’s are surely dirty from the deep shit you keep getting him into.”
Alva bristled, unable to ignore her unruly subordinate’s jabs, but managed to resist the urge to start verbally abusing the fool. “Just give me the message.”
“He says that you did a good job in Nausicaa, for once.” Leif replied, though Alva was sure that she added that last bit herself. “You can go ahead and bring that idiot Tobias back.”
“He- he approved?” The heir of the cult repeated, almost collapsing in her chair from relief. By Gal’skap, how long had it been since she had received his approval?
“Yep.” Her fellow cultist tutted. “Don’t know why. He went, lost Mageslayer and died. But, the scion’s word is the scion’s word. Nothing I can do to change it.”
Alva wasn’t even listening at that point. Next thing that Reginleif knew, she had been telekinetically shoved out of the room, landing straight on her ass in the hall.
“Oh, Mageslayer, Tobias, my two treasured blades.” The psion incanted, holding each of her hands out expectantly. “I have need of you yet. Return to me.”
~~~~~
In the void between this reality and the next, the consciousness that called itself Tobias sat dejectedly, holding his knees to his chest. He wasn’t sad, per se. More… empty. He had done his best, fought hard, and died. Just as he had intended. But he wasn’t satisfied. He wished that he could have killed Jones. He wished that he could have returned home victorious. He wished that he was just… better.
The knight errant raised his gaze just a little, staring out into the void, and almost immediately regretted it. Burning in the abyss, like a violet star, he could see Sigmund’s consciousness. Most minds twinkled subtly in the world between worlds, invisible to all but the most attentive. Servants of Gal’skap burned a little brighter. For example, he could see Lady Alva’s consciousness nearby, gently glowing like a warm fire on a cold night. But Sigmund’s mind was something else altogether, even larger and more intense than her father's, a supernova that refused to fade, endlessly burning in the void. But that wasn’t the worst thing he saw in that nothingness.
It was hard to see, almost eclipsed by the prominence of the eight scion, but he could feel it there.
Her mind.
The warrior gently touched his chest, wincing as his fingers brushed over the scars. As if that witch hadn’t taken enough from him already… Just feeling her presence was enough to strip away whatever remained of his confidence. He was such a joke. Why did they trust him enough to go to Nausicaa. Why did they-
His self-loathing was cut abruptly short by Alva’s voice in his ear, letting him know that he had succeeded, that she still needed him. There must have been some sort of mistake. Maybe it was just out of pity, or maybe some sort of guilt at bringing him into that situation. Yeah, that sounded right. She must have realised how useless he was and felt bad that she had sent him to Nausicaa. Morbidly satisfied with his conclusion, Tobias was ready to stay in the world between worlds and spare her the embarrassment when he felt an insistent tug on his existence.
Before he could object, he felt her hand take his, and he was yanked back into reality.
“Aah… ah.” Tobias gasped, his lungs suddenly filling with air. It was easy to forget to breathe when you were just a mind projecting a body on an empty void.
“Welcome back.” Alva said, smiling warmly at her knight and holding his hand tight, making sure that he could keep on his newly resurrected feet.
“I… thanks.” He said, shakily taking a seat in the chair that she had been using to watch tv. “Did… did I miss anything?”
“Apparently father was happy with your work.” The heir said happily. “Reginleif came by to taunt but I didn’t let her get to me… too much, at least.”
“And Mageslayer?”
“Right here.” Alva said, showing him the blade before sheathing it. “Ah… I’m glad that things turned out well, but I have to say, these Nausicaa ‘heroes’ are awful.”
“How so?” The knight errant asked, mystified.
“Not one of them mentioned you and your noble sacrifice.” Alva huffed.
“My Lady, please, I didn’t do anything worth-“
“Vetoed.” She said quickly.
“I-“
“As your Lady, the heir of the New Mindbreaker Order, second daughter of Erik Vrell, I command you.” Alva demanded, pointing her finger at Tobias. “Be nice to yourself.”
In spite of himself, the warrior couldn’t help but laugh.
“As you wish, Lady Alva.”