Ziginz Zegell
No Fear, No Pain.
Molly lowered her gaze as if to find the response to Gin’s question. It wasn’t an easy one to answer because that “man” was not an easy thing to describe. She looked back up and pointed toward a book shelf with a few old books sitting on it. ”The red book with the worn spine, open it to page twenty eight.”
When Gin fulfilled her request he would discover the book was on old Celtic culture, and that page twenty eight bore a picture of a stone tablet. Carved into the pictured slab were three people; a warrior, a druid, and a woman each presenting a fourth figure with offerings. The fourth figure was taller than the others, covered its face with its hands, and was strangely proportioned. The most shocking thing was that while the rest of the slab was grey, the bizarre figure was bone white. The description claimed the slab had been found in rural Ireland and was dated as far back as the fifth century. It supposedly depicted a tribe of Celts worshiping a nature spirit. It went on to compare the slab to similar depictions found in Egypt, and what was once ancient Samaria. The author points toward a possible common ancestor for the three peoples, but for Gin the information would probably be less well received.
”I’m of Celtic descent you know. Both my parents were Irish…if you listen closely when I talk you can hear it a little in my voice. It’s from my dad though that I inherited it…the dream stride.”
Molly’s expression was a sort of gloomy enthusiasm. It was clear she enjoyed talking about her parents, but it was also sad to remember them. She pressed onward with her answer, but it was a bit more complicated from that point on.
”Members of my father’s side of the family are sometimes born with this…gift…that allows us to travel to different places through our dreams. Some are like memories of the past, while others are so alien that they are impossible to describe to anyone who hasn’t seen them. When I was little I thought they were dreams, or nightmares, but my dad would always show up to protect me and to guide me through them. They were like adventures…like the ones heroes would go on in fairy tales. They weren’t fairy tales though, and I never realized how much danger we were really in. At least not until the night I met the Man in White for the first time.”
Molly’s expression becomes almost blank, almost as if she were in a trance as she spoke. The air in the room seemed to become colder, and the lights seemed to dim a bit. Gin knew the feeling in the room and it seemed like someone was standing behind him. Of course non one was there, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. Strangely, the young girl’s accent seemed to become thicker as she spoke, and her eyes bore a hazel hue.
”This horrible thing attacked me and my dad during one of our journeys. I found out later it was the aspect of something called a writhing thing. Dad was…he was backed into a corner trying to protect me when he cried out a name. I don’t remember the name, I didn’t quite hear it, or I heard it wrong. The Man in White appeared in response like some phantom from the aether between the worlds. My dad covered me so I couldn’t see what happened next. I can still remember that sound though…but I’ve never been able to put it into words. Then I woke up…dad was dead…mom was in shock from finding the body…and could have sworn I saw the man in white tipping his hat in the corner of my eye. It was almost like he was paying his respects or something. I still don’t know. Why don’t I know?”
”Molly.”
A whisper reached the girl’s ears and she snapped back to reality. The room transformed back into the warm and cozy in almost instantly and Gin felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Molly turned toward her grandmother who watched her T.V. blankly. Gin heard the girl’s name called out and knew the voice who called it was the old woman’s. Molly almost laughed and looked embarrassed as she spook to Gin once more.
”S-Sorry…oh God this is embarrassing…sometimes when I get too focused my powers act up on their own. You see a second ability of ours is that we can make real what we gain in our dream strides. It is kind of like pulling a piece of one reality through ourselves into another. Like pulling a shirt sleeve into the other sleeve while you are wearing the shirt. Does that make sense? A-anyway, I use it to make weapons I’ve found in my strides as real as you or I. Problem is it sometimes turns itself on when I don’t want it too and poof, doom and glow all around and a scary Irish girl sitting across from you. That’s part of the reason grandma is the way she is now: if she doesn’t stay focused we could all get dragged into the ninth circle of hell…or paradise…or anything in between.”
Scary wasn’t the word, but it made about as much sense as anything else in this city. Still Gin’s answer had only been partially answered and Molly realized this with a small gasp. She apologized for getting off subject, but then it was all part of her answer, in a sense.
”As for the Man in White…well as you can see he has been around for a long time. I figure my ancestors met him during their own dream strides, or maybe he was the one who taught us how to do it in the first place. All I know for certain is that he isn’t of this world, at least not anymore, and that he can go anywhere he wants. I’ve seen him here once or twice in my peripheral vision, but he never stays for more than a few seconds. I’ve seen grandma look toward him and whisper a word before he vanishes, but I can’t make out what she is saying. I don’t think he has ever noticed me…it’s almost like he doesn’t want to.”
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”You would be advised not to draw too much attention to yourselves, boys. The dead can be rather restless in these parts.”
The two men jumped from the old, gritty voice that suddenly came from behind them. An old, hunched over man raised a dim lantern to better see those present. He let out a disgruntled huff at the sight of Steve before speaking with the two men once again.
”Where’s Isis?”
”With another of the injured guys. He was hurt worse then we thought so she took him to the hospital.”
”That foolish girl…both of you go and find her. Bring her and this other man you speak of back here as quickly as you can. Tonight’s troubles aren’t over quite yet. Hurry along now, and put out that fire!”
The old man shook his cane at the two as they took his orders in stride. They had much respect for the old man and wouldn’t think of talking back to him. Once they were gone the lantern wielding elder motioned for Steve to follow him, speaking as they walked across the hollowed earth.
”I’m Dumas, I’ve been the grounds keeper here for…let’s just say it has been a long spell. And you…you’re a mage right, and that little spirit over there is your familiar?”
Dumas pointed toward Draco, apparently being able to see, or at least sense, the otherwise ethereal dragon. Whoever this ancient fellow was, he definitely knew something of Steve’s situation, but just how much had yet to be seen. Once the ring wearing wizard had introduced himself the old grave keeper pointed toward an open crypt and grumbled lowly.
”We can talk in there; it is empty at the moment. Been a long time since we’ve had one of your order visit our city. I assume the old wizard didn’t tell you much did he? Probably just through a dragon egg and a case full of nick knacks at you after telling you to be a hero. That’s his style from what I am told. Either way, this city is gonna need a lot more folks like you if we are going to-“
A loud rumbling, like thunder before a storm, flooded across the graveyard and caused Dumas to turn his stern face toward the east. It was only when Steve would look that he would finnaly get a clear look at just how big the graveyard was. The fog had broke a bit and nearly three miles of grave stones, crypts, and small monuments sat before him. In the distance, sitting on a hill, was a huge, Victorian mansion. A baleful, green light glowed faintly from it and the sound could be heard once more as the light flickered.
{b]”Damn Rosencrantz! Will you never tire of your wicked experiments!? Have you not brought enough evil to this city already!? Come quickly Steven, we have much to discuss…”[/b]
Dumas walked swiftly toward the open crypt, clearly angered by the display of light and sound before them. Once inside the stone structure the old man hung his lamp and pulled out several maps and books from a near by bag. Once Steve had joined him the old man began to speak with no small bit of anger in his voice.
”The man who lives in that old fortress is Victor Rosencrantz. You think I am old? HA! That dinosaur has been here for longer than most dare remember. I have records showing him living in these parts since before the settlement that would become Cold March was ever even founded. Of course no one would dare believe me…no…and I don’t blame them. You though, you’ve seen the evil in this city. That man up there is no small part of the corruption that has this gloom filled metropolis held tightly in its grasp. I would ask only one thing of you and your piers: kill Victor Rosencrantz once and for all! More importantly, destroy that foul black book from whence he draws his power!”
------------------------------------
The two faced monster was not the most agile of creatures, but it handled its weapons well as it exchanged blows with its black clad foe. Reika was no slouch, however, and was quickly taking the advantage in the fight. A clear shot to the creature’s arm stunned it long enough for the young hero to move in for a series of close range attacks. Kagekamuro swung its twin blades and struck the female warrior once, but missed with the follow up attacks. As the two exchanged blows, it was become clear that Megablack’s weaponry was far superior to the monster’s as the twin daggers were chipping and weakening from each blow. Then, as the two made another mutual strike, the two faced beast let out a scream as its weapons shattered in his hands. He was wide open, and Reika had all she needed to finish the creature off.
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Milli pondered for a moment and then snapped her figures with a smile.
”I know just the thing. It isn’t much, but our I.T. department is pretty undermanned. We need someone to teach Intro to Computer Science and help with equipment repairs. It is a big step back from what you are used to, but it pays well and you would have plenty of time to work on your side projects. Who knows…maybe I could give you a hand on occasion?”
Milli did her best to be nonchalant, but it was painfully obvious she wanted to see what Hayato was working on. His early prototypes had been so breath taking that the young woman sometimes dreamed about them. Still she did her best to hide such feeling as she didn’t want to come off as a deranged fan girl. As the pair cleared the rubble Hayato would catch sight of something strange. An ornate, but odd looking green key that seemed to have been mixed in with the rubble. Picking up the key, Hayato would notice it felt warm to the touch and was made of a smooth, extremely solid, but unusually light metal. Milli looked at the key with curiosity and when asked could not think of where it may have come from.
”This rubble…I think it is one of the old gargoyles that was attached to the library. I wonder who would have hidden something like this in such an elaborate way.”
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The Minotaur looked on with a laugh as the Harpy let loose a screech that shattered glass. Kamen Precure, a half accepted form perfect for a hesitant hero. Still the challenge had been issued and was now gladly accepted. The Harpy dashed in, accelerating itself forward with its feathered wings and attacking with razor tipped talons. The once pretty young woman could not yet fly, but her kicks were still deadly and she dashed and moved with surprising speed. The Minotaur only watch, still convinced taking the fairy tones would be as easy as killing this false pretty cure.
He would soon discover just how wrong he was.
A punch finally struck home and the Harpy gasped out in pain. The feathered female was sent flying by the powerful blow from the silent warrior. Minotaur looked on with no small amount of surprise at the physical strength his new enemy possessed. He had been warned of the abilities that past Suite Precures had possessed, but he had heard nothing of this Kamen Precure or her abilities. Still he had a job to do and failure was not an option. While Harpy recovered, Minotaur waved for his Ghuls to rush the masked fighter hoping numbers would be enough to finish her off. The Ghuls were beasts of stone, but they crumbled beneath their foe’s enhanced physical might. Abby’s strength, speed, agility were all many times what they once were and she would feel incredible power surging through every fiber of her being. It was a pure feeling, clean and righteous. Even if in a pseudo-cure state, it would be an amazing feeling.
With the Ghuls no more, the Harpy rose up and let out another scream as she finally took flight. She glided around the room swooping in to strike her opponent. As she did she continued screaming out all her reasons for hating Abby. Her feelings of inferiority, of jealousy, and most of all her desire to be more like Abby. That was the one that stood out most…she wanted to be more like Abby. She wanted to be more like the tough, somber girl who took **** from no one, not even the customers whose tips she relied on to make a living. She wasn’t scared to et them straight, and wasn’t scared to fight no for her sake. The girl Harpy had been was always so scared, always felt so weak. Now she had power, but even then Abby had gained power as well. A power that was more beautiful and pure then the Harpy’s could ever be. Her hatred rose as she swopped in for another assault, but in her rage she had left herself open for a counter attack.
When Gin fulfilled her request he would discover the book was on old Celtic culture, and that page twenty eight bore a picture of a stone tablet. Carved into the pictured slab were three people; a warrior, a druid, and a woman each presenting a fourth figure with offerings. The fourth figure was taller than the others, covered its face with its hands, and was strangely proportioned. The most shocking thing was that while the rest of the slab was grey, the bizarre figure was bone white. The description claimed the slab had been found in rural Ireland and was dated as far back as the fifth century. It supposedly depicted a tribe of Celts worshiping a nature spirit. It went on to compare the slab to similar depictions found in Egypt, and what was once ancient Samaria. The author points toward a possible common ancestor for the three peoples, but for Gin the information would probably be less well received.
”I’m of Celtic descent you know. Both my parents were Irish…if you listen closely when I talk you can hear it a little in my voice. It’s from my dad though that I inherited it…the dream stride.”
Molly’s expression was a sort of gloomy enthusiasm. It was clear she enjoyed talking about her parents, but it was also sad to remember them. She pressed onward with her answer, but it was a bit more complicated from that point on.
”Members of my father’s side of the family are sometimes born with this…gift…that allows us to travel to different places through our dreams. Some are like memories of the past, while others are so alien that they are impossible to describe to anyone who hasn’t seen them. When I was little I thought they were dreams, or nightmares, but my dad would always show up to protect me and to guide me through them. They were like adventures…like the ones heroes would go on in fairy tales. They weren’t fairy tales though, and I never realized how much danger we were really in. At least not until the night I met the Man in White for the first time.”
Molly’s expression becomes almost blank, almost as if she were in a trance as she spoke. The air in the room seemed to become colder, and the lights seemed to dim a bit. Gin knew the feeling in the room and it seemed like someone was standing behind him. Of course non one was there, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. Strangely, the young girl’s accent seemed to become thicker as she spoke, and her eyes bore a hazel hue.
”This horrible thing attacked me and my dad during one of our journeys. I found out later it was the aspect of something called a writhing thing. Dad was…he was backed into a corner trying to protect me when he cried out a name. I don’t remember the name, I didn’t quite hear it, or I heard it wrong. The Man in White appeared in response like some phantom from the aether between the worlds. My dad covered me so I couldn’t see what happened next. I can still remember that sound though…but I’ve never been able to put it into words. Then I woke up…dad was dead…mom was in shock from finding the body…and could have sworn I saw the man in white tipping his hat in the corner of my eye. It was almost like he was paying his respects or something. I still don’t know. Why don’t I know?”
”Molly.”
A whisper reached the girl’s ears and she snapped back to reality. The room transformed back into the warm and cozy in almost instantly and Gin felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Molly turned toward her grandmother who watched her T.V. blankly. Gin heard the girl’s name called out and knew the voice who called it was the old woman’s. Molly almost laughed and looked embarrassed as she spook to Gin once more.
”S-Sorry…oh God this is embarrassing…sometimes when I get too focused my powers act up on their own. You see a second ability of ours is that we can make real what we gain in our dream strides. It is kind of like pulling a piece of one reality through ourselves into another. Like pulling a shirt sleeve into the other sleeve while you are wearing the shirt. Does that make sense? A-anyway, I use it to make weapons I’ve found in my strides as real as you or I. Problem is it sometimes turns itself on when I don’t want it too and poof, doom and glow all around and a scary Irish girl sitting across from you. That’s part of the reason grandma is the way she is now: if she doesn’t stay focused we could all get dragged into the ninth circle of hell…or paradise…or anything in between.”
Scary wasn’t the word, but it made about as much sense as anything else in this city. Still Gin’s answer had only been partially answered and Molly realized this with a small gasp. She apologized for getting off subject, but then it was all part of her answer, in a sense.
”As for the Man in White…well as you can see he has been around for a long time. I figure my ancestors met him during their own dream strides, or maybe he was the one who taught us how to do it in the first place. All I know for certain is that he isn’t of this world, at least not anymore, and that he can go anywhere he wants. I’ve seen him here once or twice in my peripheral vision, but he never stays for more than a few seconds. I’ve seen grandma look toward him and whisper a word before he vanishes, but I can’t make out what she is saying. I don’t think he has ever noticed me…it’s almost like he doesn’t want to.”
-----------------------------------------
”You would be advised not to draw too much attention to yourselves, boys. The dead can be rather restless in these parts.”
The two men jumped from the old, gritty voice that suddenly came from behind them. An old, hunched over man raised a dim lantern to better see those present. He let out a disgruntled huff at the sight of Steve before speaking with the two men once again.
”Where’s Isis?”
”With another of the injured guys. He was hurt worse then we thought so she took him to the hospital.”
”That foolish girl…both of you go and find her. Bring her and this other man you speak of back here as quickly as you can. Tonight’s troubles aren’t over quite yet. Hurry along now, and put out that fire!”
The old man shook his cane at the two as they took his orders in stride. They had much respect for the old man and wouldn’t think of talking back to him. Once they were gone the lantern wielding elder motioned for Steve to follow him, speaking as they walked across the hollowed earth.
”I’m Dumas, I’ve been the grounds keeper here for…let’s just say it has been a long spell. And you…you’re a mage right, and that little spirit over there is your familiar?”
Dumas pointed toward Draco, apparently being able to see, or at least sense, the otherwise ethereal dragon. Whoever this ancient fellow was, he definitely knew something of Steve’s situation, but just how much had yet to be seen. Once the ring wearing wizard had introduced himself the old grave keeper pointed toward an open crypt and grumbled lowly.
”We can talk in there; it is empty at the moment. Been a long time since we’ve had one of your order visit our city. I assume the old wizard didn’t tell you much did he? Probably just through a dragon egg and a case full of nick knacks at you after telling you to be a hero. That’s his style from what I am told. Either way, this city is gonna need a lot more folks like you if we are going to-“
A loud rumbling, like thunder before a storm, flooded across the graveyard and caused Dumas to turn his stern face toward the east. It was only when Steve would look that he would finnaly get a clear look at just how big the graveyard was. The fog had broke a bit and nearly three miles of grave stones, crypts, and small monuments sat before him. In the distance, sitting on a hill, was a huge, Victorian mansion. A baleful, green light glowed faintly from it and the sound could be heard once more as the light flickered.
{b]”Damn Rosencrantz! Will you never tire of your wicked experiments!? Have you not brought enough evil to this city already!? Come quickly Steven, we have much to discuss…”[/b]
Dumas walked swiftly toward the open crypt, clearly angered by the display of light and sound before them. Once inside the stone structure the old man hung his lamp and pulled out several maps and books from a near by bag. Once Steve had joined him the old man began to speak with no small bit of anger in his voice.
”The man who lives in that old fortress is Victor Rosencrantz. You think I am old? HA! That dinosaur has been here for longer than most dare remember. I have records showing him living in these parts since before the settlement that would become Cold March was ever even founded. Of course no one would dare believe me…no…and I don’t blame them. You though, you’ve seen the evil in this city. That man up there is no small part of the corruption that has this gloom filled metropolis held tightly in its grasp. I would ask only one thing of you and your piers: kill Victor Rosencrantz once and for all! More importantly, destroy that foul black book from whence he draws his power!”
------------------------------------
The two faced monster was not the most agile of creatures, but it handled its weapons well as it exchanged blows with its black clad foe. Reika was no slouch, however, and was quickly taking the advantage in the fight. A clear shot to the creature’s arm stunned it long enough for the young hero to move in for a series of close range attacks. Kagekamuro swung its twin blades and struck the female warrior once, but missed with the follow up attacks. As the two exchanged blows, it was become clear that Megablack’s weaponry was far superior to the monster’s as the twin daggers were chipping and weakening from each blow. Then, as the two made another mutual strike, the two faced beast let out a scream as its weapons shattered in his hands. He was wide open, and Reika had all she needed to finish the creature off.
---------------------------------------
Milli pondered for a moment and then snapped her figures with a smile.
”I know just the thing. It isn’t much, but our I.T. department is pretty undermanned. We need someone to teach Intro to Computer Science and help with equipment repairs. It is a big step back from what you are used to, but it pays well and you would have plenty of time to work on your side projects. Who knows…maybe I could give you a hand on occasion?”
Milli did her best to be nonchalant, but it was painfully obvious she wanted to see what Hayato was working on. His early prototypes had been so breath taking that the young woman sometimes dreamed about them. Still she did her best to hide such feeling as she didn’t want to come off as a deranged fan girl. As the pair cleared the rubble Hayato would catch sight of something strange. An ornate, but odd looking green key that seemed to have been mixed in with the rubble. Picking up the key, Hayato would notice it felt warm to the touch and was made of a smooth, extremely solid, but unusually light metal. Milli looked at the key with curiosity and when asked could not think of where it may have come from.
”This rubble…I think it is one of the old gargoyles that was attached to the library. I wonder who would have hidden something like this in such an elaborate way.”
---------------------------------------
The Minotaur looked on with a laugh as the Harpy let loose a screech that shattered glass. Kamen Precure, a half accepted form perfect for a hesitant hero. Still the challenge had been issued and was now gladly accepted. The Harpy dashed in, accelerating itself forward with its feathered wings and attacking with razor tipped talons. The once pretty young woman could not yet fly, but her kicks were still deadly and she dashed and moved with surprising speed. The Minotaur only watch, still convinced taking the fairy tones would be as easy as killing this false pretty cure.
He would soon discover just how wrong he was.
A punch finally struck home and the Harpy gasped out in pain. The feathered female was sent flying by the powerful blow from the silent warrior. Minotaur looked on with no small amount of surprise at the physical strength his new enemy possessed. He had been warned of the abilities that past Suite Precures had possessed, but he had heard nothing of this Kamen Precure or her abilities. Still he had a job to do and failure was not an option. While Harpy recovered, Minotaur waved for his Ghuls to rush the masked fighter hoping numbers would be enough to finish her off. The Ghuls were beasts of stone, but they crumbled beneath their foe’s enhanced physical might. Abby’s strength, speed, agility were all many times what they once were and she would feel incredible power surging through every fiber of her being. It was a pure feeling, clean and righteous. Even if in a pseudo-cure state, it would be an amazing feeling.
With the Ghuls no more, the Harpy rose up and let out another scream as she finally took flight. She glided around the room swooping in to strike her opponent. As she did she continued screaming out all her reasons for hating Abby. Her feelings of inferiority, of jealousy, and most of all her desire to be more like Abby. That was the one that stood out most…she wanted to be more like Abby. She wanted to be more like the tough, somber girl who took **** from no one, not even the customers whose tips she relied on to make a living. She wasn’t scared to et them straight, and wasn’t scared to fight no for her sake. The girl Harpy had been was always so scared, always felt so weak. Now she had power, but even then Abby had gained power as well. A power that was more beautiful and pure then the Harpy’s could ever be. Her hatred rose as she swopped in for another assault, but in her rage she had left herself open for a counter attack.
