♛ The Prince, ⚔ the Soldier, & the Gifted ☀ #2

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Intriguing *sips tea*
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Total votes : 21

♛ The Prince, ⚔ the Soldier, & the Gifted ☀ #2

Postby ~Teya~ » Sun Oct 07, 2018 12:01 pm

The P̵͉̤̟̰͉̻̱̠̓̿͑͑̆̈́̕͘̚rince who is forced to take over the duties of his f₳ther . . . The S̶͍̓̀̂́̏͋̉̚͠oldier struggling to cope with his pa₴t . . .



𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙚 . . .
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𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙖𝙞𝙡?


The ̷͕̬͇̹͔͖̹͙̩̑͜ ̸͎̠͍̹̠̙̏̓́̾́͆̾̀̾̋G̴̥̝͎̜̮̀̌͆̀͛͑̋̋̀̚ifted who is unable to fit into sØciety . . . The ̸̛̪̪̘͒̎͒̄̆́̕C̴̢̡̡͎͉̩͑̆͊̕͘͝͠hild who is sc₳rred . . . The Ǒ̷̼̦͈̮͈̪̘̮̖́̈́̔̀̈͠ͅutcast turned leader fixed on his gØal . . .
Last edited by ~Teya~ on Sun Oct 07, 2018 3:47 pm, edited 9 times in total.
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♛⚔☀ Author's notes

Postby ~Teya~ » Sun Oct 07, 2018 12:01 pm

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜


Hello there, fellow human!
I'm so excited to finally be able to share this story with anyone who would like to read it! It has been a work in progress for some time now, between making the outline and school, I can't wait to see what everyone thinks. <3

Feel free to post your comments and / or constructive criticism, comments make my day and show me others are reading my story! c:

This story features my viscets, viscets can be found here (if you haven't checked them out, you definitely should!).
PSG 2 (obviously) is a sequel to a story I wrote more than a year ago, which can be found here.
Last edited by ~Teya~ on Mon Oct 08, 2018 7:14 am, edited 4 times in total.
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♛⚔☀ Prologue

Postby ~Teya~ » Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:00 pm

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚒𝚞𝚍𝚊𝚍 𝙰𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜
𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚒𝚞𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚜



𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙖 𝙧𝙤𝙮𝙖𝙡 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮? 𝘼 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 “𝙁𝙧𝙚𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝘼𝙡𝙡” 𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 6 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙨 𝙖𝙜𝙤


𝙱𝚢 𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝚂. 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚘, 𝙲𝚃 𝙱𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

    The stories that have dominated the Ciudads for the last six months have all had one important thing in common: our very own royal family, the Sirena’s. Be it an in-depth analysis leading up to King Escarlata Sirena’s fall from grace, or why on earth Prince Arathorn Sirena has chosen to shelter a former FFA (Free for all) soldier, the Ciudads have been a buzz for a long while with gossip and rumors.

    In this article, we will be diving head first into the complicated and chaotic life of the Sirena’s since the King was forced to step down, coincidentally mere hours after the FFA attack.

    “The city of Ciudad Amarilla will never be the same,” said one anonymous citizen being interviewed after Prince Arathorn’s shocking announcement of the King's abrupt departure and relocation to a Ciudad hospital specializing in the mentally unstable. Even more shocking, however, was the leaked news concerning the controversial supposed “former” FFA Lieutenant Murlé Burns. After being sentenced to death just weeks prior for attempting to assassinate the King but managed to escape, Burns is said to have sneaked back into the palace and was then shot by King Escarlata. The rabbit hole deepens, however, when Coronel Marcio Pierce went on record saying that the Lieutenant was unarmed at the time, according to witnesses Arathorn Sirena and Sunora (no known last name).

    This leads us up to the present. Queen Belleza Sirena with help from her son has taken over the role the King once occupied, as well as the Queen keeping up with the duties she did previously.

    “I can tell it’s hard on them both, and it certainly doesn’t help being under the public eye like this; pressed to live up to the King’s high standards and approval rating, and take action against the FFA, just to name a few. The gossip is the worst part, though,” one palace maid confessed when confronted near the palace grounds. Rumors surrounding why the FFA Lieutenant is living in the palace, and those centered on Prince’s childhood friend, Sunora, otherwise referred to as “The Gifted” due to her unusual abilities, also faces much scrutiny.

    “If she’s so special, why didn’t she sense what was happening with Escarlata before it was too late?” said one citizen voicing his concerns.

    We may never know the answer to all our questions surrounding these many past controversial events, but one thing is certain. We must honor our fellow viscets who were lost in the attack—the sixty-three men, women, and children alike, and not allow their deaths to be in vain.

    “No matter what it takes,” said SSRC general Kasso Lopez, “We will eradicate the FFA from this earth.”
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♛ Chapter uno

Postby ~Teya~ » Tue Oct 09, 2018 1:42 pm

𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒜𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓃 𝒮𝒾𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒶:
Chapter one


    𝒯he way a viscet feels as they step barefoot into the soft, pale-colored sand of a beach for the first time in months is an indescribable feeling.
    Morning waves crashed onto the shoreline, revealing the small, colorful clams under the surface. Large, graceful leaves of palm trees rustled gently in the warm breeze above his head. The fishy smell that came with any great body of saltwater was a welcomed change, compared to the confines of the palace Arathorn had been seemingly trapped in for so long.
    Freedom.
    He relished in the thought, knowing full well he couldn’t neglect his duties, and didn’t intend to. But just the idea of having a day all to himself, able to do anything he wanted to do, anything at all—was sinfully invigorating.
    Taking one long, deep breath in of sweet salt air, Arathorn forced himself to rise up from the spot he had previously been laying under a palm tree. His gaze lingered on the Azul ocean one last time, observing the final hints of pink and orange mixed in with the turquoise water from sunrise.
    Before he could give himself the chance of talking himself out of it, the Prince was on his way back towards the palace where the real world awaited him.

    * * *

    “Where were you? I was trying to find you earlier,” Sunora remarked as the pair strolled down the palace halls. Arathorn shrugged, glancing at the ornate paintings that adorned the walls and realized he hadn’t taken the time to look at them in a long time.
    “Oh—just down to the beach,” he responded nonchalantly, rubbing the back of his neck to rid it of the last bit of sand. She nodded.
    “Maybe I could go next time,” Sunora suggested, looking up at him with a soft smile.
    “Yeah, that’d be nice,” he said and returned the smile, opening the dining room double doors.
    “Morning dear, Sunora,” came the voice of his mother, who was already seated at the table. He greeted his mother half mindedly, eyes scanning the room.
    “No use looking for Murlé, you know he barely ever sits down at the table with us,” Sunora murmured, bumping him lightly in the elbow. Arathorn frowned in thought, taking a seat at the table as did Sunora.
    “I know, I just thought he might have for once,” he responded with a sigh.
    Within minutes the food was being served, little small talk to be heard. His mind drifted to the many duties he had to perform today, nibbling at his food. One of the dining room doors creaked open suddenly, causing him to turn, only to see a familiar face peek through. His white and greenish blue fur was a welcomed sight, mischievous dark crimson and pink eyes searching for something.
    “Murlé! So nice of you to join us,” his mother announced, a warm smile dawning her features. Murlé paused, hesitantly sliding into the room.
    “Sorry, but I sadly won’t be gracing you with my presence for very long,” he confessed with a laugh, walking around the edges of the room and still searching. “I just lost my sunglasses, and I thought maybe a giant viscet-killing spider might have dragged them in here,”
    He still wondered how he could say things like that with a completely straight face. “Why a spider?” Arathorn questioned with a muffled laugh, watching as he made a circle around the room. He shrugged in response, making his way back to the door since his hunt had been unsuccessful. “Hey, wait!” Arathorn quickly added, and Murlé turned to face him. “Since you’re already here, come join us,”
    Murlé hesitated. “Nah, I don’t think so,” he responded slowly, inching his way closer to the door as Arath spoke.
    “Oh, please?” he begged, and Murlé looked to be contemplating the offer. He paused, eyes glued to the ground in contemplation.
    “Just this once,” he said with a small smirk, pulling up a chair. Arathorn grinned victoriously, glancing over to Sunora who also looked pleased.
    “So, Murlé,” Belleza began, clearing her throat. “What have you been up to lately?” Murlé shifted in his seat, tapping his fingers against the wooden table.
    “Nothing much to do, given—well—this,” Murlé replied, motioning towards his face with one of his paws. Arathorn studied the coal black tattoos around his friend’s eyes for a moment, then lowered his eyes.
    “I hate the way everyone treats you, Murlé, it’s awful,” Sunora abruptly interrupted, slamming her fork into a piece of meat a little too hard, resulting in a dull clanging sound. Murlé’s eyes wandered, staring across the table at a sterling silver candle holder.
    “It can’t be helped,” he said simply, voice steady and painfully sure. A heavy silence swelled throughout the dining room following his words, everyone resuming to picking at their food.
    “But, why can’t it be helped?” Sunora asked, her tone pleading as if they knew the answer.
    His eyes darkened. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I have FFA murder tats on my face, eh?” Murlé mumbled, glaring down at his hands. Arathorn grimaced, remaining silent. Murlé’s demeanor swiftly changed, obviously not wanting to get into it. “Enough about silly old me, I’m not important,” he added, a playful smirk sneaking across his face as he turned his attention to Arathorn. “What has your Highness been occupied with so very much these past few days?” he asked, placing one paw on his chin. Arathorn bit his lip.
    “Same old, same old,” he began with a little laugh, “nothing worth mentioning, really,” he scratched his head, staring at his plate.
    “Oh, I get it,” Murlé replied, his features growing solemn. Arathorn’s gaze shot up, heart skipping a beat. “You can’t talk about any top secret info,” he added, his grin returning to his lips.
    “Hah, yeah,” he remarked, in his mind breathing out a long exhale of relief as he glanced down at his watch. “Ah, sorry everyone. I have a press conference to get to,” he added, dabbing his mouth with a napkin and straightening up from his seat.
    “Leaving already?” Sunora commented, looking up at him before dropping her eyes.
    “It’s not the one about the new—” Belleza cut her own sentence off, glancing towards Murlé for a split second.
    “Yes, it is . . . see you all later—I may be awhile,”
    Her brow furrowed in thought. “Do you want me to come with you?” his mother quickly asked.
    “No,” he found himself counter somewhat harshly the moment she had spoken, “you have far too much to do as it is, and I’ve done this before,” Arathorn smiled faintly, turning the golden door handle as she opened her mouth in protest. “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry. See you all later,”

    * * *

    Arathorn closed his eyes for a moment, then adjusted his navy blue jacket, staring directly into the many cameras fixed on him. From the platform he stood upon, he looked up at the many buildings surrounding him. The majority were painted in eye-popping colors, some with intricately detailed designs, while others were simply a solid color and a lighter or darker version of the same hue decorated with swirls.
    Within a few moments the cameras were rolling and they were live on air. Tapping his mic to make sure it worked, he looked out in to the crowd of reporters that instantly began asking him their questions in a flood of hard to interpret shouts.
    “Good morning everyone,” Arathorn began, putting on the best smile he could manage and taking a deep breath. He thought this sort of public speaking would get easier after a while, but amidst the blinding camera flashes and yells, that didn’t seem to be the case.
    “Why exactly did you call this press conference?” he could hear one viscet ask.
    “Does this have something to do with the recent events in Ciudad Bendita?” another reporter ventured.
    “What do you have to say about the alleged rumors surrounding the so-called former FFA Lieutenant you are shielding from the public eye?”
    “I am calling you all here today to make something public, that has needed definite confirmation until yesterday afternoon,” he announced, placing his paws on the podium. His tone turned grave as his continued, choosing his next words carefully. “The SSRC has found reason to believe that the leader of the FFA has changed, sometime after the attack six months ago—”
    An eruption of viscets began all at once muddled with questions.
    “Why are we hearing about this just now? How long have you been hiding this from us?”
    “Any comment on some citizens concerned if the Queen is really qualified to rule?”
    “How long has the SSRC suspected a new leader?”
    More and more questions came toppling over each other all at once, causing him to resort to randomly picking one to respond to.
    He cleared his throat. “There are no known pictures of this new leader, that is one of the many reasons the SSRC has been reluctant—”
    “Is it within the realm of possibility that the Lieutenant Burns could be a spy for this new leader?” one reporter asked, looking up at him with a totally straight face. Arathorn’s eyes narrowed, holding back the strong urge to respond, but knew deep down he would just be fueling the fire. Dealing with this for months on end, he had learned a thing or two about how the game was played.
    “This new leader has also managed to spot any undercover agents near him, although it is unknown how . . . since all of them went missing,” Arathorn continued, praying this interview wouldn’t last much longer.
    “What is your comment on the rumors spreading that your friend, Sunora, really doesn’t have any “special” powers and is therefore a fraud?” yet another reporter questioned. He balled his paws into momentary fists, it taking every drop of his composure not to strangle them.
    “Don’t feed the fish,” his mother had always told him, even as a boy. That same phrase he had now been repeating to himself for the past six months, and for each moment longer, it became harder to stick to. He had to please and protect his viscet-people, he promised that a long time ago. But God was it difficult sometimes.
    “That will be all for today, no further comment.” Arathorn said, putting his hands behind his back and giving a slight bow.
    “Prince! Prince!” was all he could hear that blurred into the background as he stepped down from the wooden platform, escorted by a number of SSRC soldiers. About to get into the car waiting for him, he froze.
    The ground rumbled beneath his feet, and everyone whirled their heads in the direction of a loud, echoing crack, followed by a collapse. He could make out cement cracking against cement, metal against metal.
    But that wasn’t all.
    Ear piercing screams rippled throughout the city air, a sharp shiver running down his spine. Car horns honked with a sense of urgency as one soldier pushed Arathorn reluctantly into the vehicle. His eyes widened in shock, staring up at the gigantic plume of smoke forming in the distance.
    “Take me to whatever is happening,” he ordered the driver. The driver glanced at him through his rear view mirror, turning to his partner in the passenger seat.
    “Is that really wise?”
    “I’m not going to stand by and watch as potentially my own people die, is that clear?”
    “Yes, sir,” the driver responded immediately, pulling off on to the chaotic road.
Last edited by ~Teya~ on Sun Oct 21, 2018 6:29 am, edited 1 time in total.
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⚔ Chapter dos

Postby ~Teya~ » Thu Oct 18, 2018 4:20 pm

MURLé BURNS:
Chapter two


    he streets were covered in a thick veil of eerie smoke and dust. Murlé strained his eyes, driving the car further towards the source of all the mayhem.
    “Are you positive you want to do this?” he asked slowly, turning to look at Sunora in the passenger seat. She glanced in his direction for a moment, peeling her eyes away from the outside window.
    “Yes,” she replied simply, focusing her attention back on the window. “I . . . I hate feeling so helpless all the time.”
    Murlé paused. “Me too,”
    Sunora’s ears perked, alert. “Go right!” she screeched, grabbing hold of the wheel.
    The car swerved as his eyes met a blur of headlights and an ear piercing honk, forcing their vehicle to veer onto the sidewalk for a split second.
    “Sheesh,” he began out of breath, his heart pounding noisily in his chest. “It’s almost as if they didn’t wanna be here,”
    Sunora let out a weary laugh, “You could say that,”
    Glancing down at his paws for a moment, they trembled faintly. “Try not to run us into a fire hydrant next time, alright?” he remarked with a lopsided smile, turning back on to the deserted road.
    “Deal,” she replied, her eyes squinting to see into the distance.
    Before long, they came across a road block with police and SSRC soldiers standing in their way. Behind them was nothing but what looked like a collapsed skyscraper; a towering pile of rubble and dust.
    Sunora hesitated, emerging out of the vehicle when a soldier approached. Murlé chose to stay put, and pushed his black sunglasses further up his nose, watching her talk to the other viscet. Her body language became progressively more irritated as time went on, his mind drifting away from the present. Wondering where Arathorn was, his thoughts recalled the conference of which he had purposely never said what it was about.
    After more bickering, Sunora motioned for him to get out of the car. Opening the door, a plume of power greeted his boots. Holding back a cough, his eyes focused on the large, foreboding mound of cement, glass and metal that barely resembled what once was a proud skyscraper. If he had ever been past this building before, there was no way of being sure.
    “He says Arathorn is on the opposite side of the debris, helping as much as he can. I convinced him to let us help too,” Sunora began with a triumphant smile. Putting his hands in his pockets, Murlé dug his claws into his palms as he stared at the many viscets around them.
    “We don’t have to hang with any of these guys, do we?” he questioned, attempting to shield his worry the best he could, but knew it was no use with her. Lowering his voice a little, he tried not to let his gaze stray to the viscets who’s own eyes burned into the back of his skull. “Do you know how this happened in the first place?”
    Her smile faded a little, touching her paw on his shoulder a moment to comfort him. “No, they would only hinder my senses. But I do have to bring along a special, spider-killing ‘cet in case I find anybody,” Sunora said, her blue eyes sympathetic.
    “You never answered my second question,”
    Sunora visibly tensed. “The attack—six months ago. This was one of the buildings hit, they thought it was repairable, but apparently not.”
    Murlé winced, somehow he had already guessed this. “So . . . now you and I are gonna see if we can locate anyone?” he questioned uncertainly, abruptly deciding he’d had enough of this serious jazz. “Oh yay, we get to go into the death trap to find survivors, is that it?” he asked with a pretend annoyed sigh. “Let’s head back to the palace where we can sit around like washed up jellyfish instead,” he added with a sad, childish expression with his head slumped to one side, unable to hide the grin forming in his features. Sunora couldn’t help but allow some of her childish glee to surface as well, the both of them just happy to finally be doing something of real importance.
    “Well then, c’mon. Let’s go!” Sunora remarked excitedly, without another glance heading past the barrier of viscets and out into the rumble. He hesitated, biting the inside of his lip as he quickly moved through the viscets close by, making sure to keep his head down. Watching his step as the pair headed upwards, he grew solemn.
    “If we actually manage to find someone stuck under here,” he began slowly, a wave of dread coming over him. “God help them,” his voice trailed off, focusing on keeping balance. Sunora looked away, digging her claws into the rock for a better grip.
    “That’s exactly why we need to hurry,” she urged, slipping a little when an unstable slab of concrete cracked in two.
    “I guess you’re right,” he admitted with a shrug, stopping a moment to gather his breath.
    Glancing back towards him, her eyes flashed with concern. “Are you alright?”
    He pinned his ears back without noticing and stiffened. “I’m fine.”
    Eyes lingering on him a moment, the pair started moving forward again. Taking a deep breath in, he tried his best to keep up with her.
    “How the heck do you move so fast?” Murlé gasped, struggling to keep up after a few minutes of treacherous climbing. Sunora turned to face him, her vibrantly colored face and clothes a sharp contrast to the sea of gray ruins.
    “Perks of being from another planet, I guess—” she responded half-mindedly, her gaze returning upwards.
    “What are the other perks besides the obvious, anyways?” he questioned curiously, one eyebrow raised.
    “Do you hear that?” Sunora whispered, her body freezing in place. Murlé’s eyes scanned their surroundings, heaving himself onto the nearest method of seeing farther out. “Follow me,” she commanded in a low hiss, scrambling over the broken glass and concrete whilst dodging the thick, metal protrusions as the two made their way deeper into the rubble. He could hear it now—the faint, but distinct shouts of what sounded like multiple individuals.
    “We’re over here, help! Help!” one urgent voice exclaimed, slightly hoarse; probably due to screaming out for help ever since the building’s collapse. Skidding down loose debris, they now stood on a fairly flat area, still able to hear the cries for help yet couldn’t see anyone.
    Sunora paused, closing her eyes. “I can feel their emotions, but I can’t quite pinpoint them,” shaking her head in puzzlement, she continued. “Something’s blocking them, they must be trapped somewhere under a lot of rubble.”
    Murlé shifted from foot to foot. “I’ll go get some help,”
    “Good idea,” Sunora said, being careful not to disturb the wreckage as best she could and resumed searching for the viscets trapped. Murlé nodded, going back in the direction they had come.
    “Hey,” Sunora began, glancing towards him once more.
    “Yeah?”
    “Be careful.”
    Murlé smirked in response, and went on his way back to where the others were hopefully still located. Climbing over large blocks of concrete and pointy metal, his feet slipped on multiple occasions, but he pressed on, intent on achieving his mission. His mind started to wander, going through the motions of positioning his boots in the right places as he recalled not-so-pleasant memories. Had he been one of the FFA soldiers to cause this skyscraper to come crashing down six months after he had willingly, and gladly laid down explosives in the nearest buildings just so he could get to Escarlata and kill him?
    There was really no use dwelling on his previous mistakes, nevertheless he still couldn’t help feeling indescribably guilty.
    Murlé continued to trudge through the ruins, his mind never straying from going back to the same, single thought. “It’s your fault,” it repeated over and over again. “It’s your fault,” his breath faltered, swallowing hard as he clung to the left side of his torso for a moment. “It’s your fault.” Shutting his eyes tightly, he paused next to a shattered window frame. His gaze drifted to a piece of broken glass, there was something the color of scarlet reflecting in it. More glass clicked beneath his boots as he took a step closer to the specific piece of thick, dirty glass. Bending down, the reflection changed.
    A steely black pistol stared back at him and he sprang to his feet. There was blood all over his hands and left side of his torso, where he was once shot. “No, no, no!” he exclaimed in a panic, realizing none of this was real, but it didn’t matter.
    “At ease, Burns!”
    Murlé whirled to face the voice, recognizing an FFA Coronel from when he was ten. “You bastard,” he growled, balling his fist to punch the air only for the hallucination to disappear.
    “Obey your commanding officer, you mutt!”
    He ignored it now, covering his ears and trying to focus on his delayed breathing.
    “Get a move on and carry the explosives to the shop over there,” one voice said, clearer than the others. Murlé froze, eyes locked on the explosives in the FFA viscet’s paws. He felt weak, sinking to the hard ground as a small puff of dust blew up around him.
    “Not that,” he murmured, watching as the viscet handed him the explosives and a pistol. It felt so real.
    Too real.
    Murlé quickly jerked his hands away, glaring at the weapon fearfully as he backed in the opposite direction. His paws were trembling as he closed his eyes, clamping his paws around his ears to the point of hurting.
    “Not real,” he had to keep telling himself aloud shakily, “all not real.”

    ----

    eep! I swear I haven't forgotten about this! >.< I've just been suuper busy with school, etc. But I've finally managed the time to finish another chapter, and another one soon. c:
Last edited by ~Teya~ on Wed Oct 31, 2018 11:51 am, edited 4 times in total.
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Re: ♛ The Prince, ⚔ the Soldier, & the Gifted ☀ #2

Postby Ranger of the North » Thu Oct 18, 2018 7:51 pm

Aah my poor soldier baby, Murlé noo :c
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Re: ♛ The Prince, ⚔ the Soldier, & the Gifted ☀ #2

Postby ~Teya~ » Fri Oct 19, 2018 12:43 pm

Ranger of the North wrote:
Aah my poor soldier baby, Murlé noo :c

</3 Don't worry, it'll get better for him ;) or worse
maybe
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Re: ♛ The Prince, ⚔ the Soldier, & the Gifted ☀ #2

Postby Winchester's Wolf » Fri Oct 19, 2018 12:45 pm

what chu have plan for the innocent Murlé
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Re: ♛ The Prince, ⚔ the Soldier, & the Gifted ☀ #2

Postby ~Teya~ » Fri Oct 19, 2018 3:55 pm

Winchester's Wolf wrote:
what chu have plan for the innocent Murlé

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