《Fields of Deceit (Multiverse OC/SI)》Chapter 3
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A week passed in relative silence. There was a wardrobe change, to support the colder climate, and a change in dynamics to our relationship, but other than that, nothing eventful happened.
It was difficult to get Elena to wear the coats I transfigured though, her enjoying actually being able to feel the lower temperature. I may not be able to catch a cold, but she could now. It would take a while, her body being superior to normal humans, but it was possible. I explained it to her but her only reply was that I should 'keep her warm.' She was playing with fire and she knew it.
I still don't understand where the attitude came from, it is too playful and aggressive compared to before, but I could see she was enjoying all the new experiences. Watching her play in the snow was the most innocent I have ever seen her and in the end, wet and cold, she only smiled brightly. No concern for the possibility of getting sick or her clothing being ruined. I couldn't bring myself to stop her.
Other days, though. Other days, in the morning, I would wake with her burrowed in my side, grip tight, crying and crying. We spent those days in bed, talking. Her emotional control was all over the place and questioning what was wrong only led to 'I do not know.' Thankfully, I was there to help her figure it out. In turn, she clung, clings to me like a lifeline. I am slightly worried about that fact.
There are feelings of inadequacy there. Inadequacy for not being able to save a lost world and lost love. Feelings of regret and a degraded idea of self-worth. And sometimes, she cried only because she could. Happy or otherwise.
She wasn't the only one suffering from a lack of control. I've been having... fantasies. Fantasies of mountains of gold and spoils. Fantasies of dominating opponents into piles of meat and gore. And one fantasy that was more specific than others, Arianna and three identical girls with identical voices visited me in those. Elena took the brunt of that one.
It was funny that my preferences were so vastly different now. I had three relationships before Arianna and their complexions couldn't be more different.
Still, though, like always the world wouldn't wait for us to sort feelings. I wasn't there but Elena spotted a hunter in the tree line, that quickly scurried away when noticed. I'm not certain if there are rules in place to settling in a Lords' lands but I couldn't imagine they took a census or recorded border crossing. I didn't know if I should be worried or not. Plus, this timeline wasn't exactly the one I remember. It leads to what I remember.
I sat with Elena to talk plans still, not wanting to be unprepared. The only concrete thing I knew was, if we stayed, we would have to combat the Others. The Starks' and the game of thrones would depend on my, our feelings. I liked the Starks' well enough and I knew if I connected I would try to save them, regardless if they were the characters I know. The question was -- do I allow them the chance? Do I hide away and enjoy this period of peace or take a risk of losing another?
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Maybe I was getting ahead of myself and there wouldn't even be a chance to meet them, but I could only work with what I know. A Song of Ice and Fire had excellent world-building but I wasn't born here. It was hard to see other options.
Why did I choose this world, in this time? It had been a decision of the threat offered and comfort provided. Elena wouldn't suffer technological and cultural differences and I could take the time to acclimate to the absence of eldritch horrors. The time was the most important part. There was thought to the story's events but they all seemed small in comparison to the long night. It's hard to consider the human aspect when they used to be fictional.
Should have visited the ponies.
Elena listened to me ramble all my fears and concerns silently, even though it started as planning, but when she talked, it only served to remind me of the wisdom she held. The wisdom I seemed to of forgotten, her past week of childlike curiosity distracting.
"Have we not lived in fear enough?"
It was a simple question, that reminded me I was an idiot. Reminded me of...
I didn't know the Hunter's name. But, as my blade dug into his side and tears fell from my eyes, he had told me -- "Do not fret on what you couldn't save. Only focus on what is in front of you, young Hunter. You have a long Hunt ahead."
It was an attempt to teach from a dying, wisened man, but at the time, it only served to further convince me that what I was killing was human. A time after Eileen, when I dreaded meeting other Hunters. A time when I was still broken after each kill.
I learned though, oh how I learned. It only took a while. A Hero complex had no place for the long night and trying to save the world from itself was futile.
I've... regressed.
Like I've said, an objective helped me. With it gone, my mind naturally goes to fears of what could've been done. What can be done. I hate regrets.
It was obvious at this point Elena and I need a supernatural counselor.
The following morning didn't answer my questions, but it did find us in the presence of the previously seen hunter. Along with a guard.
The hunter was a stout man that had the look of a life lived in hardships. Callouses, scars, and muscles covering him. The fur clothing did little to hide it, though it did blend with his brown hair.
The guard, in contrast, looked a man living in debauchery and his own ego. It's a weird impression to have but the smells coming off him lead credence to little else. Alcohol, sex, and blood covered him. His saunter spoke of expecting people to follow, regardless of his ratty black hair, missing teeth, and general poor appearance. It's hard to tell where the ego came from. The suit of armor is the only thing of impress.
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"Well met." The guard spoke first, and the direction of his body showed who he was speaking to. The look of his eye ruined already poor impressions. Elena greeted back but not without looking to me first. I only nodded while keeping an eye on them.
Both showed surprise to her accent, though the hunter was more subdued. He seemed to have other things on his mind. He looked... guilty? It was hard to tell because he stayed slightly behind the guard, using the guard's bulk to hide his own stout figure.
The guard made to get closer to Elena before I cut him off. I had thought of inviting them in when they were approaching. But, I guess not.
"What can I do for you gentlemen?"
A scowl quickly slipped from the guard's face, but he recomposed himself before speaking. The smile is just as ugly as the scowl.
"Yes... I am a guard of Winter Town. Name's Beron. This man behind me, Auster, reported a cabin in the woods." He took a glance around. "Which I see is true. Tell me, are you aware these lands belong to Lord Rickard Stark, Lord Paramount, and Warden of the North?"
The hunter, Auster, was looking apologetic but I ignored it for sizing up the man in front of me. There's no question I could snap his neck, only if I should. My complex doesn't extend to trash like this. I was getting a feel for him, someone that uses the title of others and authority to abuse. It was such a cliche...
No one would know.
But I wouldn't. I didn't want to kill the hunter just to be able to cover it up. I wasn't surprised by the bloodlust my anger triggered, though I am by how strong it is. My willpower is stronger though.
"Oh? Beron..." I spat his name with disgust. "What is the problem then? Do I need to talk to this Lord?"
The step he took back, whether from my question or obvious hostility, caused satisfaction to flash through my chest. Beron took a nervous glance to Auster, searching for an answer.
"...um... No, no. You only need to speak with the town leader... because of how close your cabin is."
"When?"
"...Tomorrow.."
"Fine. Leave."
And then, they left. I stood there staring as they went, labored breaths coming out.
I shouldn't have been that angry. Yes, he was disgusting and probably has partaken in crimes I would normally kill for. Yes, he also made a pass at Elena but, to most, we appear as siblings.
I'm discovering worrying things about my new self. The need to exert dominance once I realized he was eyeing Elena. The need to gut and gore once I realized the kind of trash he is. And, most of all, how satisfying those thoughts are.
Elena tugging my arm broke me from my contemplation.
"Come. I will take your mind from it." There wasn't a question of what she meant.
******
Auster kept glancing at Beron in nervousness, knowing the kind of man he is. Everyone in Winter Town knew, the ladies most of all.
He has been a problem for many years now since he joined the town guard. He was before then, but after, he had an authority that being the leader's son didn't grant. An authority that only held because too many were scared to go to Lord Stark.
Lord Stark is known as being kind, as he was noble, but he is still a Lord. The problems of smallfolk were difficult to gain his attention. And the only girl to make an attempt to, disappeared soon after. It's a weird conundrum, considering the town is right under the castle and they see Starks' almost daily, but Beron covered tracks well. Or, at least, his father does.
It should have been obvious to Auster that the leader would send his son, but, when he was reporting it, he was only concerned by what he saw. Reporting a cabin outside town may seem innocent enough, what he saw wasn't so much. The lady levitating a ball of snow onto another. Witchcraft.
Beron noticed the glances and it only served to deepen his scowl. His face, by this point, was changing color in anger and his mind was frantic with thoughts of revenge. How soon he forgot the fear that caused him to back off. The pride hurt was more important.
"What are you looking at!?" He barked at Auster, only causing Auster to turn away.
It would be a long walk back to Winter Town, though an idea turned Beron's mood around.
He didn't have friends to help gang up on the man and he was too scared to confront him alone. But he did have a girl's corpse and a noble Lord to call upon.
The idea made him giddy, but he still didn't forget what had made him back off. The man was tall and relatively intimidating but that wouldn't normally be enough to dissuade him. No. It was there only for a second and he would swear he saw nothing, but in the shadow of the man's cloak... thousands of eyes stared.
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Sorcerer of the City
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Every sailor knows the tale of Davy Jones' Locker. That place drowned sailors are sent to, ever resting on sea's bed. Some tales recount of a ghostly ship, the Flying Dutchman. Many a story has spawned from these two tales. Countless retellings mixing in their own fictions. But all stories spawn with a kernel of truth to them, and the story of Davy Jones is no exception. Those who've met the legendary seaman and his ghostly ship might call him a ferryman, escorting the drowned to their respective afterlives. Others might call him a devil, meting punishment on those deserving. The true story is always slightly different. Davy Jones is a ferryman, but not one for the afterlife, as Walter finds out. No, Davy Jones manages those who die at sea while in debt, and Walter died with a lot of debt. Unable to pay, Davy puts Walter to work. The specter has just the job for the dead college graduate. Another god, Sod, needs an afterlife for his new world. Davy tasks Walter with the job. Suddenly, Walter finds himself having to run a fledgling underworld with little instruction from Sod. To top it off, the denizens of Sod's world have their own ambitions to achieve godhood, and they won't take kindly to Sod's newest employee shaking up the status quo. [Traumatizing Content tag is up just to let everyone know this will be a story that deals with different themes of death. Some of them won't be nice and so better to be safe than sorry.]
8 72Michael jackson Daddy Pics.
Just some pictures i wanna share with you guys.
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siren head stands a 40 feet tall its arms are the same length as its body the only thing metal is its head the skin of this beast is dried making it look similar to rust it uses deception and subterfuse to lure and confused its prey this creature is Many of the famous creepypasta made by Trevor Henderson so look him up he have more bizarre creatures he made
8 170Bittersweet ~Popee X Reader~
Popee crossed his arms with a questionable look on his face "you want to stay here? you'll have to become a performer if you really want to stay, of course I'll have to ask my dad if you are allowed." I smiled and nodded my head slightly, Popee sighed and motioned me to follow him out. Will you be staying? Or will you not? Come and see~
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