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Old April 6th, 2013, 04:13 PM
silverexorcist's Avatar
silverexorcist
Individualism in Normalcy!
 
Join Date: Jul 2012
Location: Evergrande, Hoenn
Gender: Male
Nature: Adamant
Cutlerine, you have an interesting way of writing. It's difficult to explain, honestly. I guess it's the perspective it offers? At the very least, it looks like one of those episodes in a show where it ends up being an interesting flashback, mostly to take a break from the exciting main plot that's been racing ahead. Or as a filler because the writers got lazy.

This is a piece of writing I had used for an rp (that happens to be done quite differently than you're probably imagining) and takes advantage of some character personalities, which happens to be an aspect of writing that I'm especially interested and meticulous about. I'm curious to hear what you might think.



"Commander."

Zephyr Rainsville strode after her with a small frown on his normally impassive and calm face. The vice-commander of the fifth unit who wore a tailcoat like a butler was known for his incredible tolerance that made it possible for him to work directly under the twelve year old pillar without a single complaint. However, there came times when even he had to question his superior’s actions or orders, though it was usually not until after the fact. He was loyal, but not unable to think for himself.

"We’ve received no orders to search for and retrieve the second unit commander. Could I ask why?"

"We’re the combat unit. It’s not our job to search for lost soldiers, even one as high a rank as him. He has his own unit that’s worried about him. We can’t insult them by finding their own commander before them, now can we?"

Marianne's responded to Zephyr’s predictable question with a dismissive wave, turning her small back to him. Zephyr sighed at that response, completely unsurprised by her tone that made him feel like an idiot. His commander could be so cruel.

"Then let me ask you this; why did we remain on standby, rather than give orders for us to mobilize? Útgarða’s attack aside, we were prepared to rush in on your orders. But they never came. You just left it as the three of you—four, if you include the second commander who arrived later. But you were still sorely out numbered. I can at least say for sure that you weren’t thinking ‘since we’re commanders, we can easily take on some soldiers from the continents without a problem’."

"Hah. That would be a ridiculous claim after the damage we obviously took."

"Then why?"

Zephyr pressed his question as Marianne merely laughed without humor. Marianne merely sighed as she turned to face Zephyr, resting a hand on her hip as she eyed him with a dull expression.

"Listen, Zephyr. Let’s say there was a war between two sides fighting for superiority. One side as ten tanks while the other has five. Let’s assume that the side with five tanks gathered its five tanks in a single general area as an obvious challenge to you, the side with ten tanks. What would you do as a response? Send all ten tanks and crush them or send only five tanks in order to meet their numbers?"

"Send all ten and crush them." Zephyr responded immediately. It was an obvious question. "If you only send five, you’d face a much greater risk and will probably end up losing more soldiers. In the interest of winning properly, you should take advantage of your superior numbers. That way, you’ll win a battle of superiority."

"My, what a small man you are, Zephyr. I’m ashamed to have to look up at you from my height while you’re truly such a tiny and small person. It’s actually insulting."

Zephyr frowned at Marianne’s obvious ridicule as she raised a golden eyebrow slightly. He’d thought he’d figured that question out.

"If you sent ten tanks out and won, what would you prove? Only that you have more tanks and, consequently, more money. If that’s the type of superiority that you’re searching for, than you belong in the world of competitive video games and such. That’s not worth anything in this world. If one were to send five tanks and fight the opponent evenly, you would prove much more. Tactical superiority, fierce fighting will, fearless daring…and a lot more. Crushing your opponent with an advantage gained by luck or coincidence is something an amateur can do. Crushing your opponent with nothing but your own skill and determination is actually worthy of note."

"Even if you lose because of your decision?"

"I told you; if all you care about is winning, you do not belong here as my subordinate. You belong with the other scum in the world that rose to the top through deceit and lies, rather than force and selfish ambition. I’d rather be ruled by an arrogant dictator rather than an impotent liar."

Marianne passed her hand through her short blonde hair with finality as she turned on her heel and headed down the hallway. Zephyr sighed miserably. It was he who was being ruled by the arrogant dictator; she didn’t have to worry about making that choice.

"If you still think you can be my second-in-command, Rainsville, follow me. I’ve got an interesting proposition to make."

But sadly, he had to agree that it was the better choice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"My, my, aren’t we bold? Walking into my prison without bothering with the impressive security measures they have against my ability; i.e. a window and microphone to speak to me through."

Björn Útgarða spoke with an amused tone as he heard the doors to his cell open and shut, allowing two pairs of feet to walk in. He still had a visor over his eyes to keep him from seeing anything, but he still spoke without worrying about who it might be visiting him.

Going by his hearing, the two pairs of feet stood right before him; one in what sounded like buckled shoes and the other in dress shoes.

A simple metal fold up chair was set on the ground for the owner of a pair of legs in thigh high socks to sit, clear from the scraping sound made when it was set up and the sound that was different from skin-on-skin when one leg folded over the other. The companion stood behind the chair unhurriedly.

"You’re Björn Útgarða, correct? The one with the interesting ability to modify objects with his tools."

"You’ve heard of me? I didn’t realize I was famous."

"Only a select few amount of people know about you at the moment. You would make a wonderful role model to the lower ranks, if you wished."

"Sorry, I hate underdeveloped kids. It annoys me how they can’t do anything on their own and always need guidance, as I don’t have the patience to teach them. It’s obnoxious."

"You’re pretty bold for a man in line for execution."

"Contrarily, it’s only natural for someone in my situation to be as candid as possible before death. I hear that hell is quite dreary this time of year."

It was like speaking to a mirror. Both sides were speaking casually with smiles on their face. Though one was blinded, they were both attempting to pick each other’s minds through one short conversation.

"So I hear you want to kill the fifth commander, Marianne Slingeneyer."

"Straight to the point, huh? Yeah, that’s why I came. She’s a product of my colleague and my research, but my portion was stolen from me. Since I can’t simply take back my research by this point, I’ll simply have to destroy it completely."

Deductions had already told them as much. Björn had claimed that Marianne’s father, Othinus, had stolen his modification research and used it to make the fifth commander into the abnormal existence she was today. Several conclusions could be made by this; Björn and Othinus had probably been involved in some illegal human modification research and had nothing to do with the army of Condellium. Knowing that airtight continent, Björn was no doubt either a criminal or an unknown face, as he would be captured and executed if caught. That was why he came to kill Marianne—an obvious product of his research that would be all the necessary proof against his word.

But since he didn’t seem to fear capture or execution, it was unlikely he was doing this to escape judgment from the Condellium government. He was no doubt protecting something else that the continent was, perhaps, holding hostage in order to keep him in check.

Those were Marianne’s deductions after hearing the story from Zephyr and Casper.

5th unit commander Marianne Slingeneyer showed no fear before this assassin nevertheless. In fact, she almost seemed happy.

"To think we would cross paths like this at such a convenient time. It must be fate."

"Huh?"

"With your powers, I could further my agenda pretty fast. None of my subordinates have the power of absolute modification over inanimate objects. It would be great if you could get along with Zephyr as the second-in-command of the mechanic divisions."

"Hold on, brat. I told you already; I plan to kill you. Why would I become your subordinate?"

"For that reason exactly, obviously."

It was unsure of when Björn figured out who he was talking to, but Marianne showed no signs of surprise as she folded her arms across her chest and smirked at him. With a signal of her hand, Zephyr moved forward to unclasp the visor from Björn’s eyes. The swarthy skinned smith stared at Marianne with a clear expression of exasperation on his face.

"Though the guys around here don’t like to talk about it, it’s pretty clear that we’re going to go to war with the continents sooner or later. Of course, we intend to win. As such, it’s pretty likely that we’re going to have to resort to defeating our enemies brutally. Being the kind soul that I am, I will fulfill the personal wishes of my loyal subordinates who help me and the other commanders on our conquest. With that in mind, we’ll eventually reach Condellium."

Björn raised an eyebrow in response to that, but didn’t say anything. Marianne went on speaking casually, as if she didn’t realize just how drastic her proposition was.

"Of course, looking at it from a different angle, by becoming my subordinate, you get the chance to grow closer to me and assassinate me properly, though I’m pretty sure you won’t manage that, especially since I’ve made my subordinates all swear to bring my body to the continent of Condellium under any circumstances, even at the cost of their lives. In short, I’m threatening you to either join me or die."

"All that just for my powers?"

"I’m quite desperate as well, you know."

Zephyr’s head snapped toward the fifth commander at the last sentence, completely surprised by the heavy amount of exhaustion and pain in just the few words. Marianne wasn’t exactly the best actor, so it was unlikely she’d faked the sudden change, sounding similar to an elderly man without much time to live. But when Zephyr looked at her face in the fraction of a second after she spoke, he only saw the same arrogant expression on her face.

Björn sighed as he shook his head back and forth.

"So in the end, it all works out for me, eh? What a scary girl. You really remind me of your father."

"Is that so?"

"Yep. He blackmailed me into becoming his partner in research and left me with a dangerous job for the sake of one experiment."

"Sounds like a jerk."

"Your hearing is good."

Marianne motioned toward Zephyr again, who hesitated this time. Marianne raised an eyebrow at him as he dithered.

"Would you prefer the safe route where you stand no chance of losing? He’s going to be your assistant, after all."

Zephyr sighed in defeat as he stepped forward and he held up a chain cutting tool. With four swipes, he severed the chains holding Björn in the air and the man fell to the ground, flat on his back.

"Graceful." Marianne commented as she hopped up from her chair.

"First thing’s first." Björn spoke from the floor without bothering to get up. "Just what do you guys have in the ‘food’ category?"


I've hesitated on multiple accounts on where to go with this, to the point where it is just simply procrastination. I know that the moment I choose one path, I'll regret the other, and I refuse to do anything I'll regret. The more meaningful crossroads are always the most strongly labeled, to put it one way.

Next, I'll probably impose a fanfic expert on you all, mostly because I'm very concerned as to how it comes across to others. My self-absorbed nature makes it difficult for me to imagine how my writing affects other people, for some absurd reason...

Maybe I should try cutting my hair?
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