@Inquisitive-Ego

The apps are great, but I realized that I forgot the personality for the form! XD My bad! Can you put em down on both of the forms (including the other personality/personalities Swift has)?

And one question. You said that Swift was part fiend, but is it just bloodline or does he have some kind of fiend appearance/trait?

@Green-Neko

Thanks for applying, I'll do my best to roll out Gulaman's story ASAP!

Angel-Girl, the Valkyrie-Who-Can't-Think-of-a-Title

@Metsse

App looks good, and yes, you may have a battle sprite.
One thing though. Unless I happen to find them in SK, I'll need your friends' appearance/armor/(essential)>>personality summary. You don't need to make it a whole new form, you could just say

"Luna-crescend wears [insert armor], has [personal eye/color], is [personality], and has [battle sprite and anything need-to-know about it]... ETC. I can't write them if I don't know anything about em! :P

Danke! I'll get to writing ASAP.

Thanks both of ya for the help. Should be much easier to write Matik now!

THE MOMENT YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR- CHAPTER 1 IS HERE!!!!!

(I didn't really know how to portray MPD, so I just winged it and added some severe aggression towards the end and a hint towards the beginning. He's SARCASTIC, but not really aggressive normally, so....)

Requested Scene Drawing: Swift's Chess Game

Bonus Drawing: Gentleman Swift

~~~~~~

Chapter 1 ~ Swift Transferal

~~~~~~

UNKNOWN

“Ompf!”

I tumble out of mid-air, and hit Devilite ground painfully after falling around five feet. “Ow,” I groan, crumpled up on the ground with some severe bruises.

“I am NEVER going through a Fiend Portal again after this.” I growl, forcing myself to my feet. A sucking sound comes from behind me as the Fiend Portal I had just dived through closes, diminishing the circular view of an Aurora Isles depth completely. I sigh in disgust. I’m not getting back to my hideout anytime soon.

After dusting myself off and letting out about nine or more grumbles, I scan in all directions for the Yesmen that I had been stalking. With nighttime hovering over the Clockworks, the Dark City I’m navigating is much...darker...than usual, making it harder to see anything.

The Devilite office buildings loom taller than expected, staring critically down on anything that moves and breathes, giving the place a harsh work labor feel. The broken asphalt highway that makes up the ground of the level leaves my feet tingling with the cold. The whole atmosphere is chilly, like a much less severe Amu-Sol.

It takes me less than a minute to catch the sight of a red bowtie, which disappears around a corner of a building to my left. There are several almost inaudible whispers and hushes beforehand.

Where there’s shushing, there’s secrets. Where there’s secrets, there’s something useful. I think, a smirk forming on my face. I grasp my Recon shield handle, and within a nanosecond I whisk myself into invisibility. I then proceed to creep in the direction of the Yesmen, past the scoffing work buildings and into a poorly lit alleyway.

As I peer around the corner of a building, what lays inside the alley makes my eyebrows jump. A gagged and bound Knight is sitting at a very small, makeshift table, made out of a shield and a mailbox to support it. Her tied hands are obscured from view, and she has numerous cuts and wounds. Despite that, she doesn’t seem to care the slightest about them.

She’s wearing a majority of Hallow equipment, the set popping out of the dreary gray and purple city environment. The most basic, obvious things however, are her Hallow Wings, her Hallow Spiral Tailed Helm, and her Hallow Fur Coat.

The Yesmen and several normal Devilites are gathered around her, most of them murmuring things in another language. The Knight glares at them, her eyes spitting daggers, yet she is unmoving and silent. The foreign conversation goes on for a couple minutes, and then stops in order to tend to the Knight. One of the Devilites use large scissors to cut the hostage’s gag off, and she shakes her head back and forth to thrust the material away from her face.

“Alright, you stupid devil-bunnies, tell me what on Isora is happening!” The girl snaps.

The Yesmen just look at her with bored businessman stares. One of them replies to the Knight in an identical manner. “Simply a classified business matter that involves analyzing, paperwork, strategic thinking, and...a change.”

“That tells me nothing, idiot.”

“Yet that’s all you need to know. Just follow our instructions, and everything will go smoothly.”

The Knight opens her mouth to protest with spitting retorts, but gets cut off as a Devilite brings out a large box. The box about the size of the Knight’s shield, and symbols similar to ritual circles’ is etched into the lid. The Devilite places it on the table, another Yesman lifts up the top, and inside is a set of…

Chess...pieces…?

The Knight leans forward to stare inside the box, and her expression changes from contempt to bewilderment. “Chess? What- what is this supposed to be?!”

“Just like you said. Chess.” The Yesman straightens his bowtie and jumps into the chair on the other head of the table.

The Knight scoffs, half spitefully and half amusedly. “What, I’m just supposed to play chess with you, and then I can walk out of here? What kind of a joke is this? Are my friends paying you to play a sick little trick on me?”

“The T.C.O. pays us for our eternal services, we are not mercenaries. We do not have interactions with Knights unless it is for specific business purposes.” The Yesman robotically replies, and is gifted with piercing glares from the captive.

“If you’re not playing me like your bosses do to you,” The Knight flips hair out of her face before continuing. “I’d like to know this: How’d you even know about this game if we’re the ones who invented it? If anything, that makes me think that someone around here has betrayed the Spiral Order.”

“You talk too much.”

“Wish I could say the same for you, Yesman.”

“Enough.” A purple Devilite with a pencil and clipboard commands. “Now, the rules are the same as any normal game- beat the opponent.” The Devilite comments.

“But, if you are the loser,” The Devilite points at the Knight. “You will go through our procedure for punishing workers. If you are the loser,” the Devilite points at the Yesman on the chair. “You will receive a decade’s worth of employee paperwork to fill out from the boss.” The Yesman gulps in reply.

“If you do not cooperate, or if you announce forfeit, you will automatically receive the loser’s consequences.” The Devilite scribbles something on his clipboard, and mutters something to one of the other Devilites.

Everyone except for the Yesman and the Knight disappear into the shadows, and a clicking sound commences. The Yesman begins setting up the board, but he’s getting some of the pieces mixed up or placing them in the completely wrong places. The pieces themselves look like they are made out of clay, and it’s almost impossible to tell what piece represents what.

Well, this is one of the strangest things I’ve seen yet…. I peer around, looking for a good hiding place for spectating this peculiar game of chess. This may be something worth my time at last…

The pack of energy perched on my back- to keep me invisible- vibrates gently, signaling that my cloaking juice is nearly depleted. I lean away from the corner before lowering my shield, ensuring there is no danger of being spotted. Not planning on leaving anytime soon, I begin climbing the building I had been staring around, and soon nestle on a darkened windowsill, staring down at the game with sheer interest.

~~~~~~

Gentleman Swift

With an unexpected, painful wrench throughout my body, my eyes are forced open by an invisible source. Tense and shaky, I let my eyes focus on my surroundings.

To my despair and surprise, I’m in a VERY familiar obsidian hallway. While darkened with the blackness of the stone, the walls still gleam with the likeness of Warmaster Seerus’ supposed maniacal smile- if he ever smiles. And like what may have preceded that grin is numerous bloodstains on the walls, a hideous black hue with the dimness of the tunnel.

My eyes darting around in confusion, I try to place where I had seen this structure before. Where...I KNOW I’ve been here before… I silently and gently trace my fingers along one of the rocky walls, the surface warm yet icy to the touch, with both temperatures increasing violently. I hastily draw my hand away before burning it, cradling my fingers in my other palm.

Out of the blue, the same force that had involuntarily awakened me moves my legs, resulting in a forced stroll through the shadow-bred stone passages.
“Wha-” I stumble with the abrupt, forced movement of my feet, with enough loss of balance to fall flat on my face. But this ‘guide’ plants my toes into the ground, pushing my back with the momentum to force me upright, only giving me several seconds to gather my wits before making me trudge again.

I walk and walk, until my feet prickle with every step and my legs howl and scream to be let free from their invisible chains. I may as well be traversing through a desert with how many beads of sweat are rolling down my forehead. My throat is dry and is raspy, and my lightweight armor feels heavier than I thought possible. The halls don’t seem to ever end, and only grow more somber with every labored step I take.

And then, they darken to the point where I cannot even tell if I’m going forwards or staying in place. With a rush of tingles and shivers, all control of my lower body is finally returned to me, and I take the opportunity to collapse in exhaustion, panting and my whole being having the feeling of a Jelly. Cold sweat runs down my cheek, and I can feel myself getting the chills. I grit my teeth as a pounding migraine begins to take over my mind.

And just when I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, I’m kicked with the power of the Ironwood Sentinel’s axe swing. I yell in surprise and pain, hurtling through the air with flailing arms and legs, and painfully crash land- well, somewhere. I still can’t tell if I’ve moved or not, but I must’ve if I was thrown through the air like that.

Now unmoving and broken, I shudder with every painful, struggling exhale. What on Isora just happened?!?! I think with a grimace, very slowly rolling over onto my back, staring up into the eternally reaching, black void ceiling. I lay there in the agonizing state for who knows how long, until a small, refreshing breeze brushes against my cheek, as if a Snipe has rubbed its feathers against my face.

A feeling of calmness ripples throughout my body as the wind rushes through the space, giving the black void a less despairing feeling and more of the garden’s in Haven’s Town Square. Several leaves dance in the wind, never stopping to fall, never stopping to rest. Along with the current of the breeze comes a soul- wait, what?

A round, faintly glowing, orb floats silently over my body, not acknowledging my presence in the slightest. Another one follows soon after, then another, and another, until it seems the space is now heaven’s rush hour. I can’t keep track of one soul for long, they all mingle and never stop moving, just like the restless leaves, never quitting their timeless waltz.

I sluggishly hoist my weight onto my arms, my fists parallel to each other behind my back, supporting me. As I do so, one of the souls halt its journey, it’s face hidden with the fact that I can only see it’s side. It hovers there, bobbing like a Sprite, and all other souls divert their directions around it automatically.

It just sits there, and I gaze intently at it, waiting for it to do something- ANYTHING. And then I realize it IS doing something. It turns towards me, gradually, and I can see it’s mouth moving repeatedly in a chant, its white sea-like eyes shut, keeping out any brilliance they might’ve had.
Its voice rises in tone slowly, and my ears strain to catch what it’s murmuring.

“Swift. Swift. Swift. Swift. Swift.” It chants simultaneously. It inches towards me in the process, and my eyes dilate when I catch on what it’s really saying.

It stops not half an inch from my nose, the chanting turning into shouting- and becoming mixed with thousands of other voices, all of them identical to the one that had spoken first. But the rest of chant sources are nowhere to be found, all of the other souls have disappeared into the darkness.

Nevertheless, the voices rise like a curtain, and now I’m really beginning to get the chills. If most of my strength hadn’t been sapped out of my limbs, I’d probably be crawling away from this...thing. But all I can do is stare and listen, until my eardrums prepare to burst from the screaming of my name.

“SWIFT. SWIFT. SWIFT. SWIFT.” The ghosts continue, their voices still becoming louder and louder.

Something huge and thin slaps against my face, blocking my line of sight completely. I grope around my forehead and peel the thing off of my face. It’s one of the leaves that had been blown wildly about, but it’s not the leaf itself that nearly makes me gasp.

On it is cursive writing, slightly spattered with blood, but the word “Swift” is still moderately visible on the surface.

The tight, claustrophobic feeling you get in your chest during a nightmare swells up now, and I drop the leaf, hands quivering in anxiety. I look up to see that the soul has opened its brilliant, white eyes, staring at me with a piercing, never-ending gaze.

Then the light illuminating from it fades completely, but not because the soul disappeared. Because I’ve fallen unconscious.

~~~~

UNKNOWN

“We’ve just about finished here,” The Yesman states to the opponent, who’s across the tiny makeshift table from him. “You may either forfeit or continue, but either way statistics claim that-”

The Yesman moves his Black Queen (At least I think the Queen, the Rooks and Queens look almost identical) forward, cornering the Knight’s last remaining piece- the King.

“- I have checkmate.” The Yesman leans back, like he’d finished a day of work and was satisfied with his progress. Maybe that’s what’s actually happening.

The Knight stares down at her piece in horror, as if it had suddenly sprouted fangs and was threatening to maul her. She couldn’t move her King without stepping into danger. “H-how…?” She asks aimlessly, sounding defeated and at the end of her rope.

“There’s nothing else to say or do.” The Yesman jumps from his chair, and snaps his fingers to signal hidden enemies. Ten promoted Devilites jump from the shadows, and dogpile the Knight, disregarding her yelp of surprise and shock.

“Take her to the Procedure Lab. You know what to do there.” The Yesman casually comments, plucking his clipboard off the table and strolling off into the sea of office buildings.

The Devilite Overtimers force the Knight’s arms from the chair, dragging her kicking and screaming in the opposite direction from the Yesman. “YOU CHEATED! I KNOW YOU DID! YOU-” An Overtimer cuts her off by slashing his staff against her leg. She screeches loudly from pain, and just before they disappear completely, I jump from my hiding place and cloak in midair. Stealthily edging towards the mess of Overtimers, I draw my Wild Hunting Blade and tap the building next to me very loudly.

The Overtimers pause for a few seconds, peering at the source of the noise and raising eyebrows (Do they even have eyebrows?!) in confusion. Before they continue, one of the Overtimer staffs float from an unlucky Devilite’s hand, and all of them start yelping.

“MUG OF MISERY! UR IS ANGRY WITH US!!!” One of them howls in fear, and the rest start screaming and colliding into one another in order to get away from the wiggling staff. I smirk at their reactions, and my smart smile just grows wider as I lower my shield.

“No, Raye is angry with you.” I say in a voice as sinister as I can possibly sound, and the Devilites scream again, still scared from the floating stick. The Knight just looks slightly amused, but more confused than anything else. She stares around as the Devilites run around her in circles.

“But personally, I think my wrath is worse than Ur’s. Tell me what you think after you go back to the Underworld.” I raise the Overtimer staff to rid the world of ten scheming and mindless Devilites that no one cares about.

~~~~~

Gentleman Swift

Jerking awake, I sit upright in a blink, my eyes bulging from the lingering, tight fear in my chest. I grasp the skirt of my Heavenly Iron Armor with a steel grip, my senses wanting to launch me out of bed and grab my weapons, in order to squash the helplessness.

But instead of freaking out, I take a good chunk of seconds to calm down, pinching the bridge of my nose and sighing.

“Hey, Sw- woah, are you okay?”

I turn my head and take my hand from my face, peering warily at the figure beside my bed.

“I’m fine.”

“Then what was THAT jump for? A Snipe laid an egg in your bed?” Bechamel replies, giving a cheeky half smile.

I give him a severe glare. “Shouldn’t you be over- no, getting your beauty sleep? It’s-” I glance over at the clock on a nearby wall, it’s hands and numbers glowing for visibility at night. “-2:03! At NIGHT!”

“I’ve gotten enough beauty sleep to last me a lifetime. Can’t you tell?” Bechamel proudly flicks the Prismatic flower on his helm.

I exhale deeply in exasperation, the air puffing from my mouth brushing my forehead. “Whatever, Mr. Universe. Now, mind telling me what you’re doing in the Recon Ranger quarters, rudely waking me up at this time of night?”

“Well, you were snoring really loudly-”

“Get to the point!” I snap, irritated. Sometimes I wish Bechamel would keep his tongue from flapping around in his mouth like an idiot.

“Right! Sorry. Desna wants to talk with you- like, right now.”

I pause, half startled at the news, then sit up straighter. “Important stuff, I’m assuming.”

“Seems like it, if she were to be awake right now.” Bechamel places his hands on his hips and shifts his weight carelessly.

“And if she would send you to tell me that.”

“Hey!”

I smirk in spite of myself. “You take things too personally, Bechamel. Where is she?”

Bechamel makes a pouty face, but he points a finger to the entrance of the male sleeping quarters. I throw the blankets to the side, thrusting my legs over the edge of the bed. I grab the Tricorne on my nightstand and plop it on my head, my stiff feet leading me to the doorway of the large sleeping area.

Desna is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, next to the doorframe. With the one light throwing an orange glare from above, she’s difficult to see clearly. She peers at me with her one eye as I approach, and I salute a greeting. “Desna.”

“Swift.” Desna salutes back gruffly, sounding a little put out from waking up so early in the morning. She pushes herself off the wall. “Bit of an unexpected calling, eh?” She says, her voice sounding like she’s trying to stifle a yawn.

“You could say that.” I adjust my Tricorne slightly. “What am I being called for exactly?”

Desna gets straight to the point, not wasting any time she could use for dreaming. “HQ received a distress call, not half an hour ago, from a female Knight named Trisna. She’s been taken hostage by a Devilite corporation branch. HQ is sending a Midnight Knight to rescue her.

“I’m dispatching you along with the rescue knight.” Desna takes a moment to catch her breath.

I open my mouth to question what this has to do with me, but Desna holds out a hand to stop any inquiring words. “I know what you’re thinking. So here’s your answer- the Knight in the distress signal had been reporting some very…” She pauses to find the right word. “...Unusual occurrences, which had followed her capture.

“She had reported Devilites using a Fiend Gate to capture her, becoming trapped in a Depth without any sign of an exit elevator, way too many Devilite ritual circles...it’s intrigued HQ beyond words. And so-”

“So they want a Recon Ranger to gather intel on Trisna’s information to research it.” I finish for her.

Desna nods, ignoring the fact I had interrupted her briefing. “Exactly. Kora will be in contact with you and fill you in on the details, and when you return- actually, no. Get some sleep afterwards if you can, and before you begin your morning routine, turn in any information you’ve found to me.”

I rub the left side of my face out of grogginess. “Got it, Desna.”

Desna’s mouth forms a tired side-grin, but she doesn’t let any of the weariness leak into her voice. “Great. Your teammate is sitting in Garrison, don’t keep him waiting. Grab your Bitter End and your Devilite-poker, you’ve got an early morning filled with Pit Bosses ahead of ya.”

--------------Half an hour later in the Clockworks...------------

I step out from the one-way-only force field gate, peering around the area, which should be the coordinates of Trisna’s last traceable location. It’s a shock-based Deconstruction Zone, and it appears to have already been gutted of monsters and loot. Trisna has definitely been here if the coordinates are correct.

The absence of Gremlins will make examining things much easier than I expected. No Darkfang Scorchers to set my armor on fire, no Thwackers to constantly chuck axes at my face while cackling menacingly.

“Alright, Ether, you search the northern and eastern sections of the area, I’ll take the rest of the facility. If you-”

I’m interrupted with a loud snore, and I whirl around to see Ether--my squadmate--asleep on his feet, drooling, and still inside the force-field gate.
“Ether!” I come into his earshot range, just outside the gate, and snap my fingers together loudly. Ether jerks from his doze, his hands spazzing out for several seconds.

“What?! What?!” He yells with a garbled voice, his mouth still full of spit. Realizing what had happened, he shakes his head. “I was just resting my eyes!” He states defensively, hastily emerging from the gate.

“That’s what they all say.” I cross my arms and give him a quizzical stare.

Ether wipes the trail of spit from his mouth, his cheeks turning a noticeable red behind his Black Kat Cowl. “Just drop it, and let’s get going.” He draws an Obsidian Carbine, scanning the depth. “Um, you were saying something about...a facility?”

After re-stating the plan with much annoyance, we split up. I stroll through the level, Magnus in hand, nevertheless the lack of monsters. Although I’ve almost never taken a night shift before, I don’t feel so groggy that I can’t even handle the safety lock of my gun. I gingerly step over the body of a Gremlin Mender, which has most likely been cold for several hours. As I do so, something hints a gleam from underneath the sleeve of the Gremlin.
I stop with my foot in mid air, peering down at the glimmering object. I fully set my foot on the electric-blue metallic tile, then proceed to bend over to examine the item. I prod the Gremlin’s arm off of the thing with my foot, insert my gun back into its holster, and pick up the item.

It’s a light purple, large mug, with the initials ‘M.O.M’ etched carelessly on the ceramic bottom, some of the writing covered by bloodstains. Mug of Misery….well, that proves Devilites have been here personally at some point. I let the mug plop back on the gathered sleeve of the Gremlin body.
I continue along, heading towards the southern section of the Deconstruction Zone. The farther south I go, the more noticeable, out-of-place things I spot. Fresh white papers litter the ground at one point, a clipboard is left unattended on top of an unbreakable block at another, and even a discarded red bowtie is discovered, courtesy of my feet.

“Lots of Devilite evidence….yet no sign of Trisna’s disappearance anywhere.” I mutter to myself, still walking and simultaneously toying with the red bowtie.

As soon as I finish my sentence, I find myself in a large area of pink, mystical Devilite floor markings, the kind that usually have Devilites spawn from them. The depth ends here, the only thing beyond it the inner case of the Globe. Explosion and sword marks are all over the floor, as well as faded blood spots.

I blink at my...unexpected...finding, analyzing the ground before continuing towards it, drawing my Final Flourish. As I reach the Devilite symbols, they glow a little brighter, but nothing, hostile or friendly, spawns from them. I squat to touch the ground, fingering the markings gently. They don’t respond to my touch, and I’d rather they didn’t anytime soon.

“Ether!” I yell, still tracing the symbols. “Over here!”

No reply.

“ETHER!”

Still nothing.

Sighing, I rise, drop the bowtie I’d been holding, and head back north. “If he fell asleep again, I swear…” I growl underneath my breath.

A loud clang and crash comes from above, and I dart my eyes skyward on instinct. Only a millisecond later, a huge rusty steel support beam crashes through the ceiling of the globe, producing an earsplitting metal-shattering noise. My eyes widen and I automatically make a run for it, not thinking about whether it will land ahead of or behind me- or on me.

“SWIFT!” A scream flies through the air, which unfortunately sounds like Ether’s voice. I skid to a stop, only barely seeing Ether’s blurry figure surrounded by flying creatures, when the beam lands on the ground of the Deconstruction Zone.

The collision makes the whole depth shake violently, blurring my vision even more so. The world spins and the ground is no longer beneath my feet. The floor is on the ceiling, and so is my stomach. Several seconds go by before I pass through a strange, water-like substance, and then my foggy surroundings become tinged with a gloomy violet. I land on rock-hard concrete, and my head is greeted with something much more severe than a simple head bump.

Everything fades to black, and pain spasms everywhere- from head to toe.

~~~

“This is completely stupid!” A muffled protest, which sounds like my teammate, reaches me through the darkness.

“Alright, that’s it. I’ve had enough of your complaining.” A gruff sounding voice follows. “Take him away, I’ve got twenty more clients to take care of, and I can go much faster without this feisty one.”

“What?! Where are you taking me!? ACK! GET AWAY FROM-”

I open my eyes slowly, my eyelids feeling like they have Jelly slime stuck to them. I lift my head, which had been leaning limply to one side in my unconsciousness. The back of my head stings like anything, but pressure of a bandage, tied around my head, is numbing it slowly.

I try to raise my hands to my temples, only to find my head isn’t the only thing that’s covered in cloth. Linen is bound around my wrists, and my arms have been forced behind my back. My legs are secured tightly to the chair I’m sitting in, if you could even call it a chair. It’s just a blue mailbox, nothing fancy.

“Ah, you’re awake. We hoped you weren’t dead- complete waste of material.” A Yesman appears next to me, its fat little arms struggling to carry a large box. I blink hard, trying to clear my vision.

“You’re in good enough shape to do a little thinking, I hope?” The Yesman thrusts the box on top of a table in front of me, which I happen to notice is made out of my Bitter End and a Tortodrone crystal.

“I- what are you-”

“Good, now just a second.” The Yesman reaches behind my back, fidgeting with the ties on my wrists. He doesn’t bother to hear my garbled reply. “It would be unthinkable to have you play without use of your hands in this. But don’t get ideas, or my boss will have my head.” The Devilite yanks the last knot out within a second or so, and walks towards the other end of the table.

I frown in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Help me- actually, I got it.” The Yesman continues to ignore me, and takes a flying leap onto a box substituting a chair, pushed against the other head of the ‘table’.

I can’t process anything at all, and I’m in such a half-asleep state that I could probably drift off in my chair if I let myself do so. The Yesman keeps going on about some chess game, the rules for it and the penalties.

“Wait, a CHESS game?!” I snap out of my half-awake state, staring at the table which now has a chess board laying on top of it. Check that. It has a RESEMBLANCE to a chess board.

The Yesman sighs tiredly and wiggles uncomfortably in his chair. “You all keep having the same reactions to this...the boss won’t be very happy about the lack of psychological information.” The Yesman pulls out a strange device, which looks like some kind of grabber with a mug on it. He presses a button on it and it extends, and lets the mug fall on a white piece which looks something like a pawn. The mechanism moves further, about two spaces from the pawn’s original position. The Yesman lifts the mug and contracts the grabber.

“Black is next, so go ahead.” The Yesman straightens his red bowtie.

I just stare blankly at the Devilite.

The Yesman fidgets a little at my gaze. “I’m not gonna have all day to do this, sir.”

“Why do you think I’m going to play chess with you?” I finally question, leaning back and crossing my arms.

The Devilite peers at me with an eyebrow raised. “You weren’t even listening to the briefing I was presenting?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be asking that if I had been, now would I?” I sneer, feeling disgusted at how stupid this Yesman is.

The Yesman fidgets even more. “Alright, I’ll size everything up for you. If you beat me, we’ll let you go. If I beat you, you have to go through a special...consequence.”

“Like what? Filling out paperwork like all the other Knights you’ve captured?”

The Yesman scratches his tiny arm uncomfortably. “That doesn’t seem to be so effective anymore. Especially since your Order took them out of our custody.”

I chuckle aggressively in reply. “Then will you make me do? Dance the hokey-pokey until my limbs burn from my joints?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“If I have even a probability of doing that, then it certainly IS my business.” I growl, wishing I could flip the table onto the pathetic worker’s face. He’s a got a lot worse case than I imagined the idiocy Devilites would have.

The Yesman quivers just the slightest. “If you keep chatting like this, I’ll automatically give you forfeit and you’ll be transferred to the Procedure Room.”
I glare in severe anger at the Devilite, considering my options. Devilites are complete cowards, they probably won’t have the guts to do whatever Procedure they’re talking about.

That’s when the workers have minds of their own. You’ve seen what the Overtimers can do under Pit Boss control. Someone else logically reminds me.
I snarl underneath my breath before replying “Fine.” I pluck one of my ‘pawns’ from the board and slam it on a white space, two squares ahead. It’s straight across from the Yesman’s white one, and they both almost glare at each other with their distorted, sphere shaped tops.

“Let the game begin.” I sneer, leaning back again and feeling my permanently scowling eye twitch with fury.

~~~~~~

Trisna

My rescuer, Raye, treads silently across the open space, heading into a crevice that has energy power lines running along the walls. Then she disappears quite literally, lifting up her Recon shield and swirling into the shadows. I follow, creeping into the dark crack. The only thing that illuminates the way is an occasional beam of energy running through the wires.

I peer around warily, and then bump straight into something solid.

“Ack!”

“SHHHH!” Raye’s voice comes from the invisible object that had collided with me. “There’s Overtimers ahead, so don’t blame me if they see you!” she whispers loudly. “I’d prefer if they didn’t, we gotta found out what’s going on here.”

We eventually reach the end of the passage, which goes out into a dead end corner of the depth. The space widens to about the size of two or three average sized Danger Rooms, one side having a strange station of a sort, and in the middle numerous Devilite ritual circles. Several Overtimers are holding their staffs up to a Knight with a Black Kat Cowl and a Flak Jacket. A Yesman stands nearby, talking to a Pit Boss.

I take a step forward to engage the enemy, my teeth curling into a snarl. But Raye’s invisible hand claps onto my shoulder, signaling me to stop. She lowers her shield just a tad, so her head is just visible. She shakes her head ‘no’, and before I can protest she disappears again. Her hand slips off of me and I hear very quiet footsteps heading into the space.

“We use the newest process for Trojan transformation, which takes under an hour to finish completely. It’s efficient, saves many workers from unnecessarily dying from rituals, and it has helped many of our employees to develop their paperwork skills. It’s quite amazing, really.” The Yesman drones on to the Pit Boss.

“Demonstrate it.” The Pit Boss merely replies before sipping his coffee from a Phial of Phear.

The Yesman turns to the Overtimers and gestures for them to follow an unspoken command. One of them pulls out a crystal, which looks very similar to the ones on Tortodrones’ backs. It leaps onto another Overtimer’s head for a stool, and the Overtimer below him walks over to the captive Knight.

“Wh-what are you doing?!” The Knight yelps in fear, and the mindless Overtimers do not reply. The one with the crystal stabs the rock into the poor Knight’s back, and I cover my ears to block out the piercing scream that shatters the quiet and cold ambience.

The Knight looks like he’s being shocked with Gran Faust-pink energy- it arcs out of his eyes, across his fingers and outlines his whole body. My teeth grit in complete fury, and my fists clench until my skin turns teal. My hands reach for my Iron Slug automatically, and I’m hungry for blood to avenge that hostage who’s being mercilessly electrocuted.

Raye uncloaks herself as the Overtimers drag the motionless Knight towards the station at the end of the area, pulling out a Wildfire and skillfully shooting it at the Overtimers. It misses the Knight but blasts several Devilites back to the Underworld, and the Yesman howls angrily while the Pit Boss stares between the Devilites and Raye in astonishment.

“That’s an extra century of paperwork for YOU!!!!” The Pit Boss clunks his Phial of Phear onto the Yesman, who yelps and scrambles away from his Boss. Raye shoots them both and I head for the Overtimers.

15 of the 20 Overtimers turn on me, hurling their spears at my skull without hesitation. I scream at them as if I’m uttering a warcry, blasting my Iron Slug mercilessly back at the miserable beings. I continue to knock them away from me, but it slowly becomes a big job, as more Overtimers and Devilites pour into the battle.

I shoot a bullet through a Devilite’s head, but it’s only replaced with an Overtimer that pops up out of nowhere. I howl in frustration and use my shield bash to get to the station, clearing a path and making at least twenty Devilites and Overtimers fall off the depth, screaming.

But as I reach the victim, dread seeps throughout my body.

He’s been hooked up to tubes, and his arms and legs are gradually turning to grotesque stone. He peers up wearily at me, and croaks out “Cut...it...off…”

I stare at his arms and legs, hardly believing what he’s telling me to do, and I pull out my Divine Avenger. He shakes his head and looks at the tubes that are attached to many places on his body. “Those...I don’t want to live like this…”

“What…?” I question him, lowering my Divine Avenger an inch.

“I...I’m turning...Trojan…”

My eyes widen and I take a step back in astonishment. Everything else but the figure of the Knight blurs and quiets, and all thought of battle erase from my mind.

“Life support...cut it off….”

I shake my head no, but the Knight pleads me with desperate eyes. “I don’t...want to live...a Trojan…” His eyes are turning slightly purple, and the stone is running up the sides of his face by now. “Tell...Kora...and...Swift…”

I squinch my eyes shut and still don’t obey. “Maybe we can get you out of here…?” To my despair, it sounds more like I’m asking a question than I am stating a truth.

“End it…!” The Knight exclaims, his eyes puffy from trying to keep tears from sliding down his face.

After a moment, I unwillingly raise my divine sword, muttering a deep apology and feeling terrible for him, even though I have never met this Knight before.

The sound of slicing tubes is nearly deafening to my ears.

~~~~~~

Gentleman Swift

We play for a good period of time, and the Devilite actually has some skill- for someone who’s never played before. An hour or so passes, and by that time I’ve lost seven of my twenty pieces. The Yesman has lost only two less, and he seems impressed with himself.

As he pulls on some reading glasses and jots something on his clipboard, a loud clatter comes from nearby. I don’t pay much attention, until a yelp reaches my ears. Then I turn around as best as I can in the chair, but being tied to it makes it difficult.

A large trash can rolls into the holey street, and stops close to a yellow highway stripe. Everything is quiet, and I wait to see what might follow this trash can.

Something doesn’t follow it- something comes OUT of it. Or rather, falls from it. A lifeless Devilite, its front covered in numerous bloodstains, hangs limply out of the metal cylinder. Burn marks cover the trash can, and I only now realize that it's full of dents.

Then the pandemonium begins.

From behind a large building, a HUGE majority of Devilites, Overtimers, Pit Bosses, Yesmen and more rocket, screaming and pleading for mercy from- something.

“You dasked Knight!” A Pit Boss curses the air.

An earsplitting explosion rocks the area, and all of the Devilites scatter, leaving only one Pit Boss to have his blue legs pinned underneath a burning piece of stone support beam. The explosion makes my mailbox-chair fall over to the right, and the clang that it makes is barely audible with the sound of crackling flames.

“THAT COST A MILLION CROWNS, YOU IDIOT!!!!” The Pit Boss screams before a loud THUNK silences him- and maybe even killing him, depending on whatever thankfully shut him up. Loud yells and hissing sounds fill the air alongside the smoke, and I hear a Polaris being shot in the distance.

I grunt and struggle to untie my feet, and the Yesman I had been playing with flees, his skittering footsteps flying past my face. I ignore him and continue to tug at the linen, which is surprisingly strong, and my hands are beginning to feel raw from pulling at it.

“Need a hand?”

I look up into the face of the very Knight I had been searching for, decked in Hallow costume from head to toe. She's panting slightly -most likely from the heat of the battle- her Barbarous Thorn Blade covered in blood, no longer glowing with the fluid blocking the light. Without an answer to listen to, Trisna nevertheless bends over and begins untying the bounds that kept my feet locked with the mailbox legs.

“Already got the rest of the captured, didn’t expect you’d want to be left out, mister…” She trails off, expecting me to tell her my name.

I chuckle at the irony of this whole scenario, and Trisna peers at me in confusion. “What?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. I’m Swift. Gentleman Swift.” I reply. Trisna shrugs and continues working.

“Anyway, I’m-” She grunts as she picks at the last knot, and eventually pulls the cloth from my toes as a smaller explosion from the burning building makes its appearance.

“-Trisna.” She finishes after the din of the explosion secedes enough for me to hear her.

I get to my feet slowly and brush myself off. “I know. Desna sent me to help rescue you.”

Trisna blinks, then smiles a little. “Nice to know I wasn’t forgotten.” She watches me as I pluck my Bitter End from the Tortodrone Crystal, completely dismantling the ‘table’.

“D-d-desna sent you?” A new voice enters the conversation, stuttering and startled.

I turn around to see another female Knight, wearing a set of armor I’d never seen before. It's something very similar to Desna’s normal helmet, although it had been recolored, the side ponytail had multiple streaks of color and there is no eyepatch. Her armor is like a Spiral Brigandine, although it has a cloak with a hood like that of the Magic Hood armor family. She has a Recon shield and canister, and her eyes are the identical color of mine. They’re full of curiosity, ambition and defiance.

Behind her is about thirty or more Knights, most of them looking battered and exhausted, and some of them are even missing a few limbs. I suddenly remember Ether, and wonder where he was- and if he is even still alive.

The female Knight inches closer, snapping me out of my thoughts. She stares at the Recon Ranger insignia on my crest and shield, almost longingly. She reaches out to touch my shield when she comes within range, but it’s as if she’s afraid it will bite her if she dares to trace her hand along it. Her mouth moves, but no words come out, and I just watch her, a little mystified.

“Um...Raye?” Trisna cocks her head, lightly tapping the Knight’s shoulder.

Raye shakes her head, knocking herself out of her trance. “Um, sorry. Yeah, you gotta get out of here before they try to turn you too.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Hold on. Turn us?” I question before either Knight can move.

Raye sighs a little sadly, and explains. “Any Knight who comes here, they make them play a chess game with Devilites. They make it seem like they’re really analyzing us, and then send us to some workplace for losing the game, but it’s all just a con.”

Trisna throws a murderous glare at a building when Raye stares off into space, continuing for her. “It’s a clever- if not strange- way to stall us while Fiends set up ritual circles to turn us into...into Trojans.”

My eyes widen immensely. “Trojans?! But- don’t they just get summoned from the Underworld?”

Trisna shakes her head. “They’ve lost contact with the Underworld since trying to summon Ur. They needed Trojans, FAST, so they did research. They discovered that any Knight can be converted to a Trojan, so all they needed was a plan to trap Knights and get them to a ritual circle. If Raye hadn't arrived in the nick of time, I probably would have a pink crystal embedded in my back and be able to utter a real whinny.”

Raye still stares into space, looking at the growing cloud of smoke from explosions, but blankly says “They’ve been doing it for longer than we thought. They’ve already converted hundreds of Knights for their own use, and we tried to stop them, but the Trojans were shipped somewhere else.... Trisna and I destroyed their research and ritual circles, but we couldn’t stop shipment.”

Trisna jabs her thumb at the desecrating-building-in-progress. “That explosion back there? That’s Raye’s bomb handiwork blowing the ground to bits and destroying their transportation elevator. Those fiends won’t be sending OR making any Trojans anywhere ANYtime soon.”

I peer back and forth between both of them, blinking several times in astonishment. “...Hundreds…of knights….?”

Trisna nods, and she pauses for a good amount of time before answering, as if she’s keeping something from exiting her mouth. Her eyes turn somewhat gloomy. “We’re lucky they weren’t thousands.”

I peek back over at Raye to ask her something else, but she’s no longer there. “....Raye?”

Trisna peers at the spot where Raye should’ve been, but she doesn’t run to look for her. “Huh. Surprised she didn’t leave in the heat of the battle…no pun intended.”

I look quickly at Trisna. “What do you mean?”

She smiles sadly, any hostility shown for the enemy melting away in the gloominess, and this sadness seems to run deep into her eyes. “Raye’s a loner; she just likes to stick her nose in Spiral Order business.”

I stare into the distance, the same way Raye had, and only barely catch a multicolored ponytail disappearing over the edge of the highway, off the edge of the Dark City.

"...Yeah, you gotta get out of here before they try to turn you too....”

Not us. You.

"Hey, can we please get out of here? Devilites might try to get on us any moment now!" An impatient Knight from the crowd of hostages calls out. The rest of them nod in agreement, and Trisna gives me a look that tells me to not keep anyone waiting.

I shake my head and adjust my monocle over my permanently frowning eye. “Kora and Desna won’t be very happy with the report they get...but at least they’ll get one at all.”

I begin strolling away, and motion Trisna and the other captives to follow as the burning building collapses completely. “Let’s get out of here before the Devilites come back.”

Trisna follows, her footsteps matching mine with every stride. “There aren’t any elevators, but I think I found a broken beam leading to a hole in the bottom of the globe. Maybe we can-”

I stop dead in my tracks, and Trisna nearly bumps straight into me. Several annoying thoughts of realization seep through my brain, and I nearly smack my hand against my forehead in disgust.

“What?” Trisna asks.

I close my eyes and keep going. “Let’s just say that hole ruined my day.”

~~~~~~~~~~~THE END~~~~~~~~~~~

*COLLAPSE* FINISHED!!!! O_o

NOTES:

Midnight Knight - a Knight who is available for missions during the night hours- you could say they have the ‘night shift’.

-Swift's dream was based off of Inquisitive-Ego's version, although this one took a different turn....

-The name Raye was taken randomly from Star Wars: The Force Awakens Raye (Or Rae, however it's spelled). (I had no name ideas. XD)

-The beginning used to have Bechamel attempt to give Swift a note from Kora, but he accidentally gave him a recipe for a Pink Proto gun. *ROFL*

-Swift had gone on the mission solo before. Ether was added to move things along better.

-Bechamel was added since Inquisitive's Bravo Squad had him pop up in every chapter so far. Seemed only fair to have him make an appearance here as well!

-The fact that Devilites cannot make chess pieces correctly was made up by me, to make up for the fact that I can't draw them very well. XD

Well, hope you enjoyed. ^-^

EDIT:

Some minor dialogue added or discarded, fixed some kinks. Rephrased some sentences for smoother reading. Gave Swift a Magnus instead of a Polaris (Bravo Squad reference!). Fixed the sentence where Swift suddenly had a Valiance instead of a Polaris.

EDIT: Added a couple scenes to get in on the hidden things of the story. It makes it longer...but hope it's not too draggy.

- Angel-Girl, the Valkyrie

*Receives awkward hugs* ^-^

Oh wow, really?! :O :D Permission granted, that'll be awesome! And so glad you like the story!!!

So do you wanna talk about this in Gremlin Chatter, or meet up ingame this afternoon? I don't wanna spam my post with unrelated stuff.

Hey guys!

I finally got started on the actual Spiralbound album, and finished the foreword cover today!

Here's the base: Foreword Base

And here's the finished version without any touchups, I haven't gotten to those yet(including a picture of the Knight who started this book--storywise anyway): Finished Foreword

Sorry about horrible quality, my iPhone 4 camera isn't very good XD

Heylo, fellow Knights!

I am now on summer break (I AM HOMESCHOOLED. DON'T ASK.), and since I'm required to be doing more "constructive things" for the summer besides playing Spiral Knights all day (NOOOO), I should be able to write lots more for Spiralbound! :D YAY!!! So hopefully I should be able to roll out another chapter soon. Just keep watching for it!

Okay, thanks for reading!

~Angel-Girl the Valkyrie

(Yes, I copied and pasted this from my other fanfiction, then tweaked it. I am lazy. And I do not care. XD Have a nice day!)

Tankchu! Wasn't sure if people would like my newish drawing style (ink and colored pencil combination), since I'm more comfortable with pencil shading. So that's very helpful for my confidence :P Again, dankéyou!

Wow, I think I'm gonna have fun with this short story! I like Valkyries a lot, and I have my own theory for them, so working with someone else's ideas are a great experience.

You'll be the seventh chapter. I will go ahead and start hurrying, everyone's is way overdue. XD

Question: What's the third eye? It almost sounds like the same eye as the Swarm/Unknown Passage gate symbol. (Or does he have more than two eyeballs...? XD)

Thanks for clarifying, this all sounds so interesting.

I can already see what the drawing should look like too... *zones out and spinning wheels turn over my head*

:P So, I will go ahead and hurry up. SORRY SORRY SORRY FOR TWO MONTH DELAY REQUESTERS!!! Writer's block...again...

Ermmm...yeah, not so great.
I'm not sure if I lost motivation or just needed a break from pressure (I have a lot of SK projects I want to work on), but I haven't really started writing on the next chapter. My ideas are there, my writing's not. -_-

I feel like I'm just starting to sound like a broken record by saying I'll hurry up, but since I already got some progress done on my main story I'll try my hardest to turn to this one.

@Everyone I'm very sorry for procrastinating, it seems to be the gift of 2016. Summer only lasts so long so I'd better REALLY hurry up and write some seven or eight chapters. It may be slow going right now, I'm on vacation in Tennessee. But for some reason, that's where I'm finding all the writer bridges and not the walls. So may as well use them :)

Requests are currently closed, so I can't add you to the list right now. When I open them again though, I can go ahead and put yours in.