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I Want My Tears Back

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GM

 

Grendel's Mother fell silent. She watched the cracks in Lament, the flesh and bones fading away, the darkness inside him taking over. She had been mistaken. This was a man. This was a mortal. She was right there. But the blackness inside him, the hungry darkness, it was anything but mortal. No, the Void inside the thief was hungry, but so was she. 

 

Her appearance shifted. Like she was a drawing, and the lines suddenly grew thicker. More marked. Her fingers becoming claws. The darkness around her eyes growing darker. She would not accept this. She would not just let him escape.

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Lament

 

Luther felt, right now, that he only had one hand on the wheel. And no feet on the brakes. The Void could be overwhelming sometimes, and when the Mother had peeled back his psyche, he was not in the best place to guide it. And perhaps now, when it came down to it, he didn't need to. 

 

His eyes darkened, and so did his skin. He was faint, now, like an oily black mist, hard to see. 

 

He jutted forward, hands raised high and dramatic in a sharp motion, like a vampire about to strike. And yet, he put forward a foot, low and fast, intent on touching the Mother on her legs. It was not force he was after, just contact - for the Void fed not only on joy, but, when hungry and cruel, the very energy of the flesh!

Edited by Supercape

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GM

 

Grendel's Mother howled. She sounded like an animal, like a beast. Not at all like the person she otherwise seemed to be. The black mist around Lament did not please her, neither did his feint, or the feeling of energy being drawn from her with a mere touch. Who was this mortal, and what exactly was the thing inside him that let him do such things?

 

She swung her arms wildly, blindly. She couldn't quite see the mortal, but she would try anyway. Oh yes, she would strike him, she would... hit nothing but stagnant air.

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Lament

 

Lament felt a little bit of confidence seep back into his ego. See? Even mythological demi gods can fall!

 

He wasn't there yet, but at least he felt he could steer the Void a little. 

 

"You see, I am not so bold as to come here without power" he explained to the mother. "I am armed with more than just words!"

 

He moved out of the way of her flailing, and summoned the void into his fist, lunging forward. If it worked once, it could work again. But she was not some helpless old crone, either. She could see what he was up to, and she was not unprepared for his attack...

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GM

 

"You are armed with nothing!" Grendel's Mother snarled, as Lament lunged forward at her. She was old. Older than even the tales. She would not fall so easy. She was more than what this mortal host thought! 

 

Grendel's Mother sidestepped the fist. Up close, Lament could finally see that her skin was ash-grey. With another howl, she raised both fists above her head, then slammed them down hard into the ground, a wave of dark miasma exploding from the impact and washing out around her.

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Lament

 

"The Void says I am!" replied Lament, more confidently. "And so do I!"

 

He jumped in shock as the mother slammer her dark fist to the ground. It was a fortunate jump, for the spell tickled his feet rather than his whole body. More than a tickle, too, he could feel the crunching power and it stung. But his flesh was no mortal any more. The void lived in every cell. 

 

He backed off now, not wishing to get caught in those fists.With an effort of will, he drew the void into his body, making him appear whole again. And then, as he had with the troll, he exhaled hard. 

 

The oily blackness of the Void filled the air....

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GM

 

"A Void is nothing! An absence! I am something! Something far greater, far more powerful and wonderful than you suspected, little nothing!" She leapt straight through the cloud of oily blackness. She didn't even seem to register it, simply passing through it to land right in front of Lament. With another bestial howl, one of the many that she seemed to like so much, she swung at him with both hands. Her fingers were like claws now, as she swiped from the right to the left, threatening to eviscrate the Dean of Distress!

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Lament

 

Lament caught her claws with his hands just as the nails sank into his flesh. There was the slow ooze of black blood, but they had only really scratched him. His skin was tough, and what was underneath was even tougher. He was not even sure he really needed blood any more. 

 

"That is quite true" he said, looking meek. "Yes, now you mention it. You are something and I...I am nothing. Quite pathetic really..." he mumbled, head down. 

 

And then he took his hands away and slapped them infront of her face, the oily blackiness in his skin flowing from his palms and into her ugly mug. 

 

"But the difference, darling, is I am not little. I am a giant nothing! I am magnificent!!!"

Edited by Supercape

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GM

 

"No no no no!" Grendel's Mother was panicking by now. Nothing she did worked, even as her claws sank into Lament's flesh, the black ooze simply flowed. No red blood, no life seeping from his veins. There was something about the look in her eyes, as the darkness flowed over her face, even as she fought off the effects of Lament's touch. Something he could see, even in the perpetual shadow that seemed to cloud her... Was it perhaps, fear?

 

"NOO!" she screamed, wildly swinging her clawed across Lament's chest.

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Lament

 

The claws sank in deeper this time, and the black blood of the void and Luther entiwined oozed out at a glacial pace. Lament could feel his lungs punctured this time, and a sucking sound accompanied a deflating chest. 

 

He sagged like a wrinkled balloon, and tried to force air back into his body. 

 

"Who needs organs anyway?" he muttered to himself in his head, although the second of dizziness that accompanied the sensation may have meant he mumbled it aloud. 

 

"It tickles!" he bluffed. 

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GM

 

"LIES!" 

 

Grendel's Mother sniffed at the air. She could smell Lament's blood, even as it was tainted by the dark ooze of the void. "YOU WILL BOW! YOU WILL SCRAPE! YOU WILL DIE FOR YOUR INSOLENCE, THIEF OF THIEVES!" she raised a hand, pulling it back and unfolding, then moved it at lightning speed, attempting to slap him, and yet somehow, despite Lament's wound, and despite his stumble, she missed, her long, clawed, crooked fingers passing inches from his face. 

 

She howled in frustration, pulling back, several steps, yet remaining close enough to reach her prey.

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Lament

 

I might if I am not careful! And I thought the Void was powerful. 

 

Then, Lament saw the Raven out of the corner of his eye. 

 

"Lo! A Raven! How fares ye, oh strange portent of portentious stangeness! Does thy care to impart wisdom once more?"

 

In other words...HEEEEELLLLLP! but he could not say such in front of the Mother. 

 

"Look, mother! A raven doth approach to signal your doom! Look at its strange eldritch weirdness! Doth ye not have wisdom nor wit to read the signs?" he taunted the Mother. 

 

And hoping she would look away, even for an instance. Because he was about to put his hand on her face and suck more life out of her!

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GM

 

The Raven screeched in response. For a moment, Grendel's Mother turned towards it. Her eyes were visible for the first time. Big and dark, wholly inhuman. Like looking into an abyss. And yet, Lament saw fear in those eyes. Not of him, but of the Raven, and perhaps, of what it represented. 

 

"What?"

 

That was all she got out, then Lament's hand was on her face. She screamed and flailed, as she felt life itself leaving her body, wildly swinging her arms around, clawed fingers seeking his arms, his skin, his face, his stomach. Anything that could help her escape.

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Lament

 

Although he did not say it, Lament was surprised the mother had any strength left in her legs. 

 

"See how you FALL before even a FRACTION of my POWER!" he said to her, deep and rumbling. 

 

"You now SEE your DEFEAT! It is INEVITABLE!"

 

That is to say, possible. 

 

He gave a wink to the Raven. 

 

"LO! THE WINGS OF DEATH DO HERALD YOUR DEMISE!" he said, pointing once again to the Raven. It did have very odd eyes. Lament wondered if it was some ghastly shape changed curse. He didn't like that thought at all. 

 

This time he clamped her head in his hands and tried to force the Void to feed like it never fed before!

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GM

 

She stumbled now. She had trouble even staying outright. And the panic was clear. As both of Lament's hands clamped down on the sides of her head, she screamed. Not in pain, but in pure fear. She had thought him a mortal. She had thought him easily squashed, like so many before him. But there was something more to him, was there not? Something else. An absence, a great big nothing that lived inside him.

 

And now it fed. Fed on pure myth. Not a mortal, not just a feeling. But something beyond all of that.

 

And as Grendel's Mother screamed and pulled herself free, stumbling away, the Void woke up, gorged and full. Lament was no longer in control.

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Lament

 

Luther could feel himself drowning in an endless sea of thick blackness. It was not pleasant, nor was it unpleasant. He felt submerged, as if looking on as an observer now. Like going to sleep but still being awake. 

 

The Void was essentially mindless. An oily psychic parasite, it existed only to feed. Any intelligence it has was rudimentary at the very best at times. A fungal intelligence, one might say. 

 

And only driven by desire. Lament fell to his knees, apparently helpless. The Void cared not. It merely reached out to Grendal's Mother intent on pulling out every happiness or joy that pulsed in her head...

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GM

 

Grendel's Mother screamed again! A primal scream, an exhausted scream. She was struggling now, just fighting to stay standing. And she was clearly terrified of whatever the Void was. She had thought Lament a mortal man, and yet, he was something more. Or he had something less. Something not human, something less, something nothing, and something she did not understand. But despite its efforts, the Void did not feed. She was too strong for that.

 

"STAY AWAY!" It was all she could do, as she raised her hands above her hand, slamming her hands into the ground, a wave of dark miasma spreading out from it.

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GM

 

Submerged in an oily blackness, floating, alone, Luther was dimly aware of his surroundings, but he could barely influence them. At best, it was the lightest of nudges, like the touch of a feather on a river. 

 

If the Void could not feed on joy, it would feed on vitality itself. 

 

It did not move away from the exploding miasma, but simply waded throught it. Luther could feel, distantly, the skin prickle, the costume tear, but the Void cared not, it just ploughed through, clumsily reaching out with blackened hands to suck more from the Mother. 

 

Luther could only hope the Void did, for until it was sated, he would continue sinking....

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GM

 

Her last, best attempt. Utterly failed. The wave of dark miasma barely nudged the Void of nothing that stood before her. Grendel's Mother made a sound. It was strange, it was small, so different from how she had acted until now. She had no fight left in her. Instead, she simply crossed her arms in front of her, slowly backing away.

 

"STOP! No more! You are not a man! You are something... less. I give in! Just, please... leave me in peace!" 

 

She did her best to stay out of the reach of the Void. But would she succeed?

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Lament

 

If Luther LeGrasse had been in charge of Lament, he would most probably have capitulated.

 

In the endless void of blackess where his lonely psyche swam, he tried to reach out. Tried to call out. Tried to swim back to the surface. 

 

"Wait!" he called out mentally. His call, however mighty in spirit, was feeble and lost in infinity. 

 

The Void was still hungry. And The Void was still in control. 

 

Clumsily, it lurched Lament forward, with black hands hungry to feed!

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GM

 

The terror was still clear in Grendel's Mother. She was growing weaker by the moment. It was clear that it took everything she had just to remain standing now. She was absolutely exhausted, her breath heavy and labored as she backed away from the nothing monster that made its way towards her. 

 

She held her hands out in front of her. "No! Stop!" Did the Void know who she was, what she had done? Perhaps not. It did not matter. She would not die here. A weak wave of dark miasma washed out from her hands, radiating out in the area around her.

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Lament

 

Luther reached up from his sea of emptiness and found a little light. He grasped firmly, and found himself just poking the tip of his head back into his cranium. He fell to his knees, the oily Void taking the brunt of the miasma. Whilst his clothes singed and curled, and his flesh bruised, he was essentially unharmed. 

 

He fell to his knees. 

 

"Stop? You think I can stop, just like that?" he grunted at the Mother. 

 

"You set this path in motion on the day you stole the tears. You knew, surely, that this day would come. That some force would come to reclaim then. Perhaps you thought you would be strong enough. But now you know that you are not. I am not strong enough. inside me is a force that would feed on you. And now we both live in the consequences of your foolishness!"

 

He pointed a finger at the Mother. 

 

"Why should I STOP?" he grunted, trying to wrest control back to his body. 

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GM

 

The Grendel's Mother stared for a moment, at the accusing finger of the Master of Misery. She let out a laugh. It was cold and dry. It could almost not be called a laugh at all, and yet, it was one, all the same.

 

"Yes... You have something inside you. Something strange, something powerful, and yet, you know little of the games of myths and legends, do you not?" Her words were harsh, despite her situation. "Who claims these tears? What are their story? These are my treasures, gathered for lifetimes! Why should you bring it back?"

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Lament

 

"Do I need to?" said Lament, harshly. He was being bold, despite the effort of holding the Void in check and his weeping crackling flesh. 

 

"The King of Elves demands his tears back! They are his, and to him they must be returned!" he stated. 

 

He forced more drama into his voice. 

 

"Returned to him, they must be! What they must, is to him be returned!" he said, his voice deep and rolling and full of thesbian might once more. 

 

He pointed a finger at the mother. 

 

"Why did you steal them? What right have ye?"

 

 

 

 

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GM

 

"HA!" Grendel's Mother let out a cold laugh, devoid of humor. "The Elf King! I should have known!" 

 

She gestured to the three items, each filled with a liquid. Lament had still not made his choice, he had still not figured out which one belonged to the Elf King. The question was, would it make a difference or not?

 

"Do you not know what the Elf King is? What he would do to your kind? I did you mortals a favor when I stole his tears!" She raised her own accusing finger. "Do you even realize what those tears are?"

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