Getting it right (P.Ozma)

[Rubber Ducky]

IT'S SUCH AN IGNORANT bliss, WHEN THE ENTIRE WORLD WANTS TO BE LIKE ME

It was a fine, fine day. So fine that, in fact, Rubber (that nickname would never get old) found himself following the river, steering quite clear of any shaky footholds. He wasn't ready to take a giant dive into what was probably quite a cold river, but instead mesmerized by it's tranquility. An odd, hypnotic feeling, one that Rubber had never really gotten used to. It disturbed him how quiet things were without the constant chatter of voices in the air.  She would make it soon enough, right? He was pretty sure of it. Rubber Ducky hated being alone, and that was exactly what was happening right now. He was due to meet Princess Ozma here soon, but he abhorred the long, arduous torture that came with the isolated wait. For most people it wasn't bad, but for Rubber it was absolutely agonizing being without someone else. He felt as though he was wasting his time; time spent alone meant time that Rubber had to just...sit around and do nothing. That meant he couldn't help anyone, and helping people was about the only thing he could do well these days anyhow. He seriously hoped that she wouldn't mind him changing classes like that. Sure, he had been classing hopping for some time now, but he was pretty certain that he would stay as a cleric. His starting armor looked horribly "poor", which meant that if he wasn't careful he would attract the PK vultures out there who loved making things as miserable as possible. Everything seemed alright so far, but much more time and he'd start getting even more anxious. Word Count: 271 Princess Ozma

[Princess Ozma]

MADE MYSELF AT HOME IN THE COBWEBS AND THE LIES look what you made of me Heresy equated to skulking about the world like a thief in the night. If she had wanted to be a thief, she would have started off with one instead of a summoner. But Princess Ozma had a mission. Rubber Ducky had sent her a message, and she was obligated to answer. After all, he knew how to do said messaging system, and he was her friend. Maybe he could even find her brother. Rubber Ducky was always so much more resourceful at these games than Ozma was, always helpful even when she had no idea what was going on. Her brother would like him once he met him, really. Or he would as soon as she could find either of them. Player finding was almost laughably easy when one was in Elder Tale, at least in terms of in the actual area. All one had to do was find a quiet moment and focus. Focus on the feeling of the magic in her veins, that dark sparkle that whispered ‘come hither’ with each breath, and then wrench her attention to the world outside. Her eyes glowed a little bit brighter every time she did this, but activating her Sage class never made any sense on the outside. Normally a sage would look for the sparkling signs of mana and follow the colors. Ozma’s Sage status is just as corrupted as her primary class, and instead of looking for a specific type of energy she searched for something much more primal: that which the miasma wanted to touch the most. It was less of a real trail than it was making things glow and giving her a sense of ‘this way lies prey’, but it was still pretty effective at avoiding problems. Her subclass tended to make monster finding a bit easier as well, with the stronger lives making the miasma want it a little bit less. But she found a player eventually, eyes narrowed as she tried to make the Sage skill stop but forgot how to toggle it off in her relief. There he was, safe and sound. “Ducky? Please don’t be mad. I got lost.” words 0357 tagged Rubber Ducky notes dis gon be gud

CODED BY MIDDY OF GS

[Rubber Ducky]

[attr="class","boneshatter1"]

[attr="class","boneshatter2"]

AND WE'LL NEVER STOP 'CAUSE WE'RE ONLY GETTING BETTER --- ALIVE AGAIN, ANOTHER DAY, I'M NOT AFRAID TO GET OVER ---

[attr="class","boneshatter3"]Well she wasn't very late, at least. It was somewhat true that Ducky had some serious issues going on when he said he couldn't deal with being alone, but the time spent alone wouldn't kill him either (probably). She was dressed in her usual attire for combat, nothing all that special. Honestly he wanted to go out for some combat training, but he wasn't sure what she'd say about that. That mixed with the fact that she could turn quite quickly made him a little scared to tag along at times.

But in all honesty, he loved her companionship.

Being a heretic was something he'd never fully understand. One would have to be so...dark. Probably have some sort of clinical depression or something. Those heretics were pretty insane when they got on up there in their corruption, ya know? Ducky had seen this one time, and one time was all it took for him to get the feeling that he was going to get sucked into a black hole. Thankfully, though, he balanced things out with his optimism, patience, and of course his new class choice. If miasma was a Heretic's focus, then certainly a Cleric could be a balance...right?

"Don't worry about it, Princess. It didn't take you too long!" Ducky squatted down a little to make sure the two were eye level. He gave her a mischievous grin and a teasing nudge, waiting to see what her response was. Sometimes she could be really touchy but other times he wouldn't have to worry about too much backlash. Her company was very much welcome, and he had taken a liking to her. It was true that the two hadn't known each other that long nor did they know much about each other's real world selves, but Ducky didn't mind. She was a good companion, and companionship was what he was all about.

"So, Princess, I finally switched my classes. Guess we'll see how this Cleric thing works, right?" He stood from his squatting position, feeling a bit stiff in the knees. "What's on the agenda today?"

Word Count: 350
Princess Ozma

deltra of gangnam style

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[Princess Ozma]

i fear the fever It knows the weakness deep in my soul; It keeps me hostage; I'm never alone [attr="class","postm"]She hated to be a disappointment, hated being the one to ruin her party’s plan and shatter it into pieces by her own reluctance. But she knew the rules better than anyone else when it came to this sort of thing. She would be the ghost on the edge, because she was scary. Ozma didn’t mean to be scary. It just sort of happened when she was in the thick of battle. Ducky had seen it once, poor sweet Ducky who always supported her and she didn’t understand why, and his face had turned so pale when she came back to herself that she had started to cry. But Ducky had changed his class like she had changed hers, but somehow she didn’t think he had to walk through the miasma to do it. Ozma was pretty sure that she was stuck as a Heretic for the rest of her life, but she still smiled when Ducky was happy. He was a cleric now (it said so when she stared hard enough), so that meant their battle strategies had to change. It made her happy when he was happy. Not like how her brother’s happiness made her heart clench and her face burn with her smile. Ducky’s happiness was like a butterfly trapped in her ribcage, always fluttering as she tried to find the words. Ducky would never leave her. He couldn’t leave her. Ducky wasn’t… he wasn’t like her brother. The butterfly always fluttered the most when he treated her like she was still normal. She tried to be so careful, watched her corruption and kept her distance. But he was so happy to see her. And he looked her in the eyes, and she closed hers. Ozma knew the rules. The miasma swirled and swirled in her eyes, because she hadn’t been careful. And he smiled at her and touched her like everything was normal, and she couldn’t help but cry. “Just Ozma. I’m not… I’m not a princess. Princesses are pretty and good. Like in the stories.” Ozma can’t remember how to turn off the pretty dancing anima, and she rubbed at her eyes as she tried to smile. She had to blink a few times before the darkness in her eyes faded and the Sage skill finally turned off, but she pulled herself together. “So… cleric? Does that mean I get to protect you this time?” She meant every inch of her smile, the careful tap of a finger against his arm instead of what she wanted to do. Careful, so careful. One day she’ll be strong enough to hug him like she used to, to keep the miasma bottled up and not yearning in her veins. Ozma pirouettes out of his reach, quick to let her scythe snip the tips from the grass. She does her best thinking when the sun warms her, a friendly reminder that this world had different rules. “We should practice fighting. If… you want to party. I can help. So you can get used to the class change. It’s really hard when you switch.” [attr="class","wordm"]words [attr="class","wordm2"]0513 [attr="class","wordm"]tags [attr="class","wordm2"]Rubber Ducky [attr="class","notem"]notes [attr="class","notem2"]oh god I'm sorry

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[Rubber Ducky]

[attr="class","boneshatter1"]

[attr="class","boneshatter2"]

AND WE'LL NEVER STOP 'CAUSE WE'RE ONLY GETTING BETTER --- ALIVE AGAIN, ANOTHER DAY, I'M NOT AFRAID TO GET OVER ---

[attr="class","boneshatter3"] It was a strange and mysterious thing to Ducky, the way Heretics worked. He hated the fact that they were so toxic, and he had always imagined someone whose bloodlust had escalated to the point of seeing red from the time they woke from the night until time for bed. But Ozma...well, she was the bee's knees! He so thoroughly enjoyed her company, despite her radiation of miasma, and knew that she was indeed such a sweet person. It wasn't anything more than a friend, companionship with someone in this new and strange world that now he was forced to live in. Ducky needed her, a Heretic, so that his sanity wouldn't completely disappear. Funny how things worked out sometimes.

At her discretion, he briefly considered removing his title for her, but then changed his mind as he heard the explanation. "Well, if all of that is what makes a princess, then it would a sin for me not to address you as princess." His warm smile could sometimes be used as a weapon, too, and right now he set it to full throttle and tried to get a response out of her. Her tears were tears of sadness, or at least Ducky had thought that, because sometimes she could become quite emotional during their meetings. It always seemed like she yearned for something more. Ducky wanted to know, but he knew better than to ask. She would tell him in her own time.

He began to inspect his equipment, looking at all of his nonexistant stat bonuses and the like when he heard her next comment. Throwing back his head and announcing a loud, false shock, was sure to elicit some response. "P-princess! You don't have to be so critical Sir Ducky can handle himself quite nicely!" He let loose a loud chuckle following his speech, knowing fully well that her words were true. There was no way that a level 1 Cleric was going to do anything except heal and run away from things. It would be a nice change of pace, though, and he looked forward to giving it a try.

"Practice? Hey, I'm okay with that! There are some woodland critters over in that direction, I think." With eyes squinted, he pointed in the direction of what appeared to be a small gathering of trees in the distance, honestly not sure if anything existed there in the woods or not. Living in Elder Tale had taught him that if you didn't know something, pretend like you did. If you wanted to ask questions, do so in secret so that people don't target you later on for being an ignorant player. Princess Ozma was different, of course, but he always looked to himself as the older, wiser of the two, and he didn't want to jeopardize that title one bit. So there were some cases where she would likely become agitated at his lack of knowledge in the future most likely, but he would try and tone it down.

For now, though, it was time to go slaughter some things. Maybe. Or get slaughtered - hopefully not, though.

Word Count: 521
Tag Princess Ozma
This will be fun hehehe

deltra of gangnam style

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[Princess Ozma]

i fear the fever It knows the weakness deep in my soul; It keeps me hostage; I'm never alone [attr="class","postm"] Ozma remembered many things that her deaths cannot ever take away from her. She remembered the smell of sun-bleached linen, the fragile feeling of a baby bird fluttering in her palm, the warmth of her brother when he held her, and so many other wonderful things. But she also remembered the way the miasma trickled through her fingers and bled into the ground with every staggering step. She knew what it felt like to laugh and laugh as the air itself reached for her with want and need. Heretics don’t talk about how they became what they are because it unsettles those around them, if the miasma didn’t do it for them. Ducky calls her ‘Princess’ and she knows better. Princesses are shining and good, the pretty ladies who stayed in their castles and wore their soft dresses to parties. Ozma wasn’t a princess. Not when she knew how it felt to clutch her hand to her head in a vain attempt to keep the madness from splitting her head open and spilling everywhere, when she’s howled from pain and hatred reflecting back upon the ages. She’s spread out her fingers and let them play cat’s cradle with the sticking darkness, tapped her feet and laughed. Hannah knows that Ozma is terribly good at playing hide and seek, but she knew perfectly well that princesses don’t play like Ozma does. Ducky wasn’t there when she changed, so he’s never seen a heretic in their personal playground. The miasma makes them stronger as much as it stripped away the little voice in the back of their minds that told them things were bad for other people. Elder Tale is still a game to heretics, a game where no one worthwhile dies when they’re killed. Ozma has done her fair share of murder, the creeping laughter in the miasma that feasted on the poor little People who wandered lost into the miasma. And sometimes, if she isn’t careful when she goes hunting, she runs into children of the Land. And Ozma can’t help but play hide and seek. Ring-a-ring o’ roses, a pocket full of posies… Hush! Hush! We’ve all tumbled down. Ducky always smiled at her though, and it always made the butterflies flutter until she had to pull her hood over her face to hide her blush. Keep away, stay away, or Ozma’ll play another day. Sometimes Hannah wanted to grab at his hand and tell him every tiny thing that whispered in her heart, to let the miasma bubbling in her mind get drowned out by the shine of his smile. But she still remembered, and so she would play keep-away. Ozma always felt better when she had actual permission to slaughter wholesale. As long as she kept the blade of her scythe away from any human necks then all would be well. “You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t get so close to me. Not when there’s combat. I… I’ll hurt you. I won’t mean to, but it spreads sometimes. Miasma’s really lonely.” This was the understatement of the century, but she could never lie to Ducky. It takes her a moment to remember how to invite people to a party, but she managed to click the buttons and sent him the invitation. She takes a breath and focuses on that little thing that makes her so different, that mental twist and beckon that lets her eyes start to glow again. Sages are primarily used to find water in deserts or large concentrations of mana in an area; Ozma uses hers to find signs of life. She can only see so far, and sometimes trees make her life interesting. Ozma has learned how to find the barest flickering, to hone in on a heartbeat like a bat out of hell, but it makes her head hurt. “Yes. That way.” Oh, oh, too much miasma. And her markings darken just a bit more while she holds a hand to her forehead and confirms Ducky’s guess. It aches and aches, and there’s a terrible ringing sound in her head. “C’mon Ducky, it’ll be fun!” The more her head aches, the better her fingers dance on her scythe, spinning and flashing as she waits for Ducky to finish checking his equipment. Always, always, she keeps space between the two of them. “Can we get lunch when we’re done?” She almost says ‘like brother does when he goes to work’, but she bites her tongue. Maybe if she’s a good girl, better than she is now, her brother will find her. [attr="class","wordm"]words [attr="class","wordm2"]0756 [attr="class","wordm"]tags [attr="class","wordm2"]Rubber Ducky [attr="class","notem"]notes [attr="class","notem2"]corruption level one, sorry not sorry

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[Rubber Ducky]

[attr="class","boneshatter1"]

[attr="class","boneshatter2"]

AND WE'LL NEVER STOP 'CAUSE WE'RE ONLY GETTING BETTER --- ALIVE AGAIN, ANOTHER DAY, I'M NOT AFRAID TO GET OVER ---

[attr="class","boneshatter3"]It would be a huge lie if Ducky were to say that he wasn't at least a little scared of Princess Ozma when she changed. There was something really creepy, unwordly perhaps, that happened. But somehow Ducky knew that this was probably the typical reaction to this, a person running or screaming madly as the heretic's miasma found its way to their very soul. Instead of being physically harmed, Ducky had imagined the experience to be more emotionally terrifying, something that would mentally scar him for life.

And yet here he was, standing side by side with a heretic, discussing combat. What was wrong with him? Ducky had observed how others would look at Princess Ozma funny, and ever since he had joined up with her he was getting the same strange looks. It was odd but nothing he couldn't handle. In fact, he wanted to prove to them that a heretic wasn't some hellacious beast bent on causing as much grief and misery as possible. Heretics were people who had undergone a change, but that was all it was - a change. Change meant that the original person was still ever present, not gone permanently. Ducky wanted to find the gentle girl, no matter how much he had to dig. She was in there somewhere. He made it his mission to protect and be her guide until further notice.

But she was always so...docile? No that wasn't the word. Pessimistic, probably, or maybe melancholy. Ducky was definitely not a scholar, but he could sense that she always seemed so down. Had being a heretic changed her that much, or had she always been like this? Ducky was ashamed to say that he knew so little about her, but he didn't want to pry. It's not like she was super secretive or anything. Ducky just...never asked.

What he loved about her was the fact that she was so gentle when she wasn't slicing and dicing and being scary. Don't worry about me, Princess! I'll be okay. I'm a cleric now, and this cleric will stand back and heal you when you need it. Maybe we can find some way to heal that sadness in you, too, Princess. He so desperately wanted to give her a nickname, something that would suit her, but he found himself unable to call her anything but Princess. And yes, let's get lunch. You know how Ducky loves some good food! Only...I've yet to find any good food. Back in the real world - was that even what you'd call real now? Anyway when he was in the real world, one of his favorite things to do was to eat. And he could eat most anything, too. So at the sound of getting some food, Ducky became nostalgic, longing for the days of delicious cuisine.

His eyes snapped back to reality when he realized that the sooner they started killing things the sooner they could go and get some food. Let's go, Princess. Before they departed, Ducky remembered that he forgot to accept the party invite from his companion. With his fingers moving rapidly through the air, he accepted the invite and prepared what little belongings he owned. Oops! Let's try that again. He pointed his cane in the appropriate direction and marched forward happily, making sure to keep pace with Princess Ozma, neither staying in front of leaving her behind. They were a team now, and he was going to do his best to protect the team. About fifteen minutes later, one scraped knee, and a surprise ambush from the weakest mob known to Elder Tale, Rubber Ducky and Princess Ozma made it to their destination. Spread out in front were small rabbit-like creatures, scuttling about their own way. Ducky knew that since he was level 1, he wasn't going to start any fights.

With a side glance to his sidekick, he spoke in a hushed manner. So, which of these vicious creatures do you feel like murdering first?

Word Count: 665
Tag Princess Ozma

deltra of gangnam style

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