Yeah, they is cool. I bet Ennui's other interveration had to do with Amber or something.
Right on the dot PJ.
Sorry for taking a while and not having a lot and stuff.
Bit 4
“M’lord, I have failed.” The teen murmured, kneeling before the imposing figure, wearing all black, a black so black the figure seemed be comprised of only two pale hands and most of a head, before him. “But it was not my fault, my session timed out, whatever that may mean. I managed to delete many, however many still survived.”
The imposing figure glared. “Many of those in a position of power correct?”
“Pardon?”
“You managed to delete many in a position of power, correct?”
“I deleted Tragedy. I did it with my bare hands, wrapped around his neck.”
“What of Derik? Or those others, swans, Misery, or Woe? Have they been deleted? All moderators?”
“I deleted Char-”
“Excellent!” the figure broke in.
“Thank you. Songbird” the figure continued, “Fancy, swans, Misery, Woe, Fight Fire with Fire, and Rikku. I do not know of Derik, I did not see him on the member list for some reason, and his profile through URL editing was inaccessible. Snicketfires, Trish, Gigi, Antenora, Pandora, and Dupin still remain of the moderators.”
Pointedly the figure glared at him. After a minute or so of this the younger of the two broke out, “What have I done to displease you so m’lord?” he cried.
“You are to ALWAYS address me as The Lord, or you’re Lord! Never should a sentence addressed or concerning me be released from your lips without a The Lord, My Lord, or your vulgar m’lord adjoining it!” The taller roared.
Cringing, the lesser figure whimpered out several apologies.
Suddenly regaining his calm, the clearly mad figure returned to other matters. “Very well, I shall have to deal with Derik and eliminate the other’s myself when the time comes. It shouldn’t be difficult. However, for your other accomplishments I shall knight you. Kneel before me Robert.”
“Really? You mean it m’lord? Oh, thank you m’lord, thank you.”
The dark figure pulled his sword out of the sheath on his back. It was a very sharp blade, of old English designs. He placed the sword on Robert’s right shoulder. Then he proceeded to grip it tightly with both hands and slash it violently to the left, removing Robert’s head from most of his neck. He spat onto Robert’s still corpse. “Incompetent, treacherous, buffoon.” He kicked the still body out of his way and pulled a hooded cloak from his closet. The Lord hide a few daggers, some select poisons, and an assortment of gadgets all over his person, and wiped his trusty blade clean before re-sheathing it. He pulled a pair of highly expensive sunglasses out of his pocket and very dramatically flicked them open and attempted to put them on whilst looking uncaring. The result of doing so was he poked himself in the eye with the bit of the glasses that goes over your ear. After a few minutes, many of them spent disciplining the sunglasses; the figure stalked out of Strikingly Secret Section, kicking aside the empty shell of the member Strawberry, who he had created and used as his means of getting into the section. His sword glinting in the moonlight and the silver tassel on his cloak flashing, he headed towards Disturbing Discussion Courthouse.
Justice Antenora sighed while pacing the floor of her spacious room. It has a very large room, with no windows, but several sculpted lamps. However, what really made the room stand out was the wall to wall bookshelves, all crammed with books, books of every type, poetry, novels, works of history, et cetera.
Again, Justice Antenora sighed. It had been a long day, settling minor disputes between fighting fractions. She had hopped her nap would help; yet instead it had just set her on edge. Perhaps a glass of water would perform the duty of relaxing her better.
“What is this?!” the tall lord yelled to no one. Surrounding him were deleted members, locked forever in a silent debate. “I ordered that imbecile to delete those in positions of power only! What purpose is there in lording over the dead? Is there no one still here? Acting on the assumption that some are, I shall stick with my original plan of eliminating all who withhold the power of stopping me. Now, whom am I talking to?” He approached the Courthouse. After picking the lock to the main doorway, he walked in. Glancing at the You Are Here map stationed at the main entrance hall he noted the position of Antenora’s room. A few moments after setting off he began swearing rather violently because it had finally connected in his mind that there seemed to be no way of entering the room from any of the other rooms. What fool of an architect had designed this room?
(Blueprints) Grimacing, he loosened the odd contraption affixed to his belt and sauntered towards the room adjoining Antenora’s. It was a very plain room, except for the far back wall. The wall itself was a bookshelf, filled with thousands of volumes on the decrees of 667 and famous cases of them being executed. The Lord knew what had to be done no matter how clichéd it was. He began ripping handfuls of books out of the shelf, on of them must trigger a hidden passage.
A few hours later he approached the last book. Grinning, he tugged at it, excepting the passage to his destination to open up. Instead, the book fell to the floor, and opened to the heavily edited page detailing the rules of becoming a moderator. Vibrating with rage the figure let loose a bellow of fury and slammed his fists to the ground, destroying the hidden doorway to the hollow passage bellow and causing himself to tumble down into it.
Antenora picked a book of 667 members to thumb through, and lounged on her plush easy chair. She flipped through the pages before stopping at a certain page that she looked at for a while, a smile tugging at her lips. However, the smile was jerked downward when she saw the third footnote at the bottom: No longer a registered member of 667 Dark Avenue. She dropped the book and quickly knelt at that certian spot on her floor. Antenora pried up the tunnel’s door and dashed down and out. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now.
Out of the dropped book a small flow of quickly depleting data pulled itself out, and, exerting much of its energy, clawed across the floor to fall into the tunnel and grip onto Antenora’s shoulder, determined to execute a message to her before it was fully deleted.
Several torches evenly spaced throughout dimly lit it, and though it was rather cold and dark it was also very clean. After regaining his senses, or what passed for his senses, The Lord began creeping down. After a few feet he perceived the sound of someone approaching, and swiftly flattened himself out again the right wall. A wicked grin spilt open in his face as Antenora dashed past. Quietly, he stepped back to the center of the tunnel, removed a dagger from his left boot, and silently padded after Antenora.
The dark was nothing to the data; he could look through it as if a handheld sun lighted it. It was no object to see the figure steadily gaining on them. Doing something about it, that was the tricky part. The data quickly jumped to the Emergency Weaponry cabinet that was conveniently located alongside them on the wall.
Hurriedly, The Lord approached Antenora. A nice clean assassination. Now just to loop his dagger around her neck and pull back.
The data gathered all of its remaining energy. It new that it must work soon, and fast. It created a weak form for itself, and launched out into the air, alighting on The Lord’s ankle. It reared back and buried itself into the bony part of his ankle, changing into the shape of a jagged, sharp nail as it did so.
“Arghhhhhhhhh!” The Lord bellowed. He clapped his hand across his mouth to stifle himself, but it was far too late for that.
The data sighed, and finally was peacefully deleted. It knew that it had done all that it could.
Antenora whirled around, and staggered backwards in surprise. Who wouldn’t, when faced with a dark figure directly behind them, clutching a dagger and screaming? Quickly composing herself, Antenora turned and dashed to the nearest candle. Gripping it tightly she waved it menacingly in the general direction of the figure, who was rubbing his ankle and fumbling with his boot. “Who are you? What is going on? Why was Dante deleted?” Antenora demanded.
The figure turned his face upwards. He uttered a hollow laugh. “I really wish you hadn’t become the Judge of Disturbing Courthouse Antenora. I rather liked you, such a shame that you must now stand in my way. I won’t reveal to you what has happened, as to perhaps ease your last few moments.”
“What are you talking about? I want some straight answers right now, and if you don’t…” as a threat Antenora waggled the candle down to the face of The Lord.
Laughing his strange hollow laugh, The Lord stopped fiddling around with his boot and stood straight up. His hand glinted strangely, reflecting the light back up on the walls. “What is in your hand? Drop it to the ground. Drop it right now!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Goodbye Antenora.” The Lord said, as he stuck his right hand, the hand clenching his hidden dagger, straight out into Antenora’s torso, swiping it forward, and side-to-side. He grimaced, and wiped the dagger onto Antenora’s robes. A little extra data wouldn’t make much of a difference to the lacerated garment. Experiencing a brief pang of sorrow for Antenora, he sealed his mind against unfortunate emotions like that, and drowned them out by playing his favourite fantasy out in his mind: Himself sitting in Tragedy’s steed, ordering members around, looking at the heaps of deleted members he disliked, and his old enemy chained before him, his only purpose to entertain The Lord with the Lord’s creative torture methods. Yes, that last part must come true even if none of the rest would. Derik must have survived.