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Goodbye to Gravity, and to Death(IC)


Ari

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"Hardly mighty, O artist, all my race can command yours!" Parsinkle replied as he darted towards one of the closer rebels, swinging his arming sword at the creature, only for them to dive aside at just the right moment for the elegant blade to scrape and spark beautifully across the floor! A brief glimpse of her face as she sprang into the press of warring bodies revealed her to be Twinetingle from the kitchens!

 

Recovering with a snarl of anger the Prince added as he backpedaled  "At any rate, you accepted my hospitality, my food, my gifts and my aid. That first is what I trade for your unwavering fealty! For all the good it does.." he grumbled sourly, watching as several of his nobles were torn apart under the onslaught of rebel weapons, flung bleeding and cursing onto the floor as they were trampled under the fray! The battle was obviously going against the Prince and his creatures from the outset, and Hartfoul had mysteriously disappeared...

 

"Don't judge us too quickly, Parsinkle" Marceau called out languidly as he flung a flashbang card at the face of one of the Fey in sackcloth, grinning as she slammed her foot onto it, muffling the bang and obliterating the flash. "You may be onto something, actually" he commented, the caped and cowled man crouching a little, clenching his hands and getting ready to leap into the fray!

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Rene clutched his bruised knuckled that had solidly connected with a Redcap's chin. It had been decades since he punched someone. He was more subtle these days, and besides which held a vast arcane power which served him as well as any pugilistic skill he may have once had. 

 

Still, he conceded, it had its little pleasure, even if it was fighting for the wrong side. 

 

"Marceau my friend, may I offer you a gift? A magical cloth no less! please, do accept it! I insist!" he shouted at his friend, hopeful that his ploy may twist Parsinkles plot to their advantage. 

 

Propelled by the Gaes, his knuckles once more swung out at a nearby Fey in the frenzied brawl...

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The Redcap rebel Rene punched didn't even flinch, though he glared at the artist and bared his teeth before turning back into the fray, rubbing a bruised shoulder ruefully.

 

The tide of battle was now wholly against the Prince and his courtiers. The dozen or more of Parsinkle's party at the tables nearby were mostly rolling on the ground, howling and snapping their teeth as they clutched at jagged wounds left by the rebel weapons, who pressed the attack gleefully against the last few clustered on a table and laying about with all their might, the prince leaping around the dining hall, mostly avoided by those who his wrath hadn't turned on yet, slashing at the heads and hearts of his subjects ferociously!

 

Despite all that, despite the horrors of war in miniature around them, the Fey seemed to almost be enjoying themselves. Even the ones lying on the floor and being trampled as they struggled to escape the chaos while navigating the crushed and ruined food, slipping on spilt drinks and getting torn by flailing weapons were far less upset than any wounded Rene had ever seen. Even the tone was different, with Parsinkle seemingly the only one taking the entire battle for the castle seriously.

 

Marceau caught the offered cloth as he perfunctorily struck a passing Redcap in the sternum, his armored fist bouncing off the Fey with a peal of horrible laughter. "A very nice offer, my friend Rene!" he called happily over the din "Please take this magical cloth I just happened to also have!" so saying he bundled up the vivid length of fabric and lobbed it over to the older man. "Hey Rene! Did you notice? We just started what Parsinkle had been lying about! Haven't we done him just a wonderful turn?" he bawled with a wicked grin. He usually didn't enjoy treating anyone badly, but the fairy prince was a very big exception to that rule, and seeing the red-eyed prince's rage get fiercer and fiercer, his teeth grinding in frustration as everything fell apart, was very, very amusing.

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Rene brought out his paintbrush and scanned the frenzy. The tide was turning, but Parsinkle was a cunning fox, and he had no wish for the manipulator to seize any advantage. 

 

His paintbrush required considerable skill to use, someone who could actually paint. It was a rare enough talent amongst humans, but perhaps the Fey - they were known for skill in all things artistic or poetic. 

 

He still had to fight for Parsinkle. Of course, it need not be effective. 

 

He threw the paintbrush into the face of a nearby Fey rebel. 

 

"Sorry about that, my friend! But if you can paint, use that little marvel! And if you can't, rush it to someone who can!" he called out. 

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With a terrific cry one of the Redcaps was flung several feet through air in a bloody arc by the Prince's sword-stroke, the Fey gritting his teeth in icy silence as the rest of his soldiers struggled on. By now the whole hall was a shambles, the food in glorious ruins, the drink splashed on the floor. The Redcaps attempting to overhtrow him could smell victory in the desperate feints and hackings of Parsinkle's few remaining loyal subjects, and pressed their attacks with gleeful vigor. Seeing more than a dozen four-foot tall fairies slash and parry with dizzying speed while giggling like schoolgirls does wonders for ones nerves.

A pack fo them, seeing their comrade go flying, gave out shrill cries of suddenly very real anger and charged on Parsinkle, mobbing about the taller Fey and making his longer limbs and greater height wholly useless, dodging around his flanks and stabbing vicously with curved billhooks. The elegant Prince batted aside most of the assault with contemptuous ease, but when he paused for a split second to gloat at one particularly failed maneuver he was rewarded by a trio of blades slicing through his red robes! His concealed armor turned most of them, but an unlucky flinch sent the last blade straight through him and out the other side, speckling e wall with blue blood!

Aiming a coil card with great care Marceau winced at the sight and Parsinkle's cry of agony. This was starting to get a lot less fun, he reflected as he lobbed the card in a smoothly overhand toss, watching as the metal unraveled around the unfortunate Fey in its path...only to gape in awe as the creature nearly escaped it, tumbling with amazing speed over a bench only to be snagged around the legs at precisely the last minute. The creature was angry, as the torrent of ridiculous oaths testified, but the rebellious Redcap began the process of scrambling back into the fray regardless.

The Fey Rene's brush hit was one of the group thronging about Parsinkle, and they squeaked in surprise as it struck them smartly on the nose. Rubbing the injured nostril irritably she snarled as she began groping for it on the floor "Yer lucky yer wi' us, magey! Else I'd et ye right proper!"

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  • 3 weeks later...



 "Yer lucky yer wi' us, magey! Else I'd et ye right proper!"

 

"Monsieur, I do apologise. And do not debate where my true loyalties lie. They are not in tune with the chains of the gaes the Prince of lies has chained me with!"

 

His voice was tinged with the considerable humiliation and anger at Parsinkles trickery - or, more precisely, that Parsinkle had tricked him. 

 

He bopped another Fey rebel on the nose. 

 

"Again, I apologise! Consider my pugilism fire for your fury! Direct it at your lord and master! His is the true hand behind the fist!" he shouted in frustration. 

 

"And that paintbrush! Use it, sir! Use it! Art will be your ally!"

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The Fey barked in pained surprise, then started laughing uproariously as he rubbed his nose, slapping the artist on the back as he dove into the fray!

By now Parsinkle was ringed on all sides, harried by stabbing pikes, slashing axes and a few makeshift swords. Parrying a savage attack that would have passed through his ribs, he glanced around, took stock of his followers vanishing beneath the waves of rebels like castles of sand, and reached a quick decision. "Ita Semper Cum Ingratus!" he shouted, the sword in his hand turning into a scything windmill of flashing pan, the red Prince lunging and whirling around the massed packs of Rebels, sending most of those unable to dodge or block his maddened attack to the floor gushing with blood and laughing hysterically, which made the Prince even angrier than before.

Meanwhile the few still up and loyal to Parsinkle fought off a renewed onslaught against the table they had taken up refuge on, shouting insults as they were driven steadily back towards the fire.

The Redcap who had taken the brush looked at it, shrugged, waved it in the air and suddenly a new gang of Rebels surged into the fray chanting "DEATH TO PARSINKLE!"

The Prince paled.

Edited by Arichamus
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"Marceau my friend!" called out Rene as loudly as he could through the wheeling chaos that exploded around them. The Fey, even at the most subdued of time, were not as silent and subtle as one would have wished for. Colours, screams, music, and - yes - blood danced and proliferated left, right, and centre. 

 

"As receiver of my most generous gift, I now command that you fight for the rebels against the most despicable Tyrant, Lord Parsinkle! Let his whip and chains be forever struck from this land, and every land!" he shouted, his voice cracking with the effort to be overheard above the mellee. 

 

He swung a few wild and ineffective blows as punctuation. 

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GM

 

"I have no choice but to obey, my friend!" Marceau called back over the din of the slowly dying battle "And by the way...in exchange for that delightful bolt of cloth, I command you to defeat Parsinkle to save him from his rowdy subjects!" he laughed joyously, both at the fact that the battle would soon be won and that Rene's idea had worked! The feeling of iron bands forcing his limbs to attack the rebelling fairies seemingly dissolved, instead directing him inexorably towards the Fey Prince.

 

A much more powerful and skillful throw of a card later, and an enveloping tangle of twisting metal spun through the air in a red rainbow, wrapping tightly around Parsinkle's arms and legs like a steel serpent!

 

Straining and frothing against his bonds the Prince cried "You underhanded wretches! I can't lose now, so close to my life's dream!" His yell was nearly drowned out by the noises of the Rebels leaping onto the food-covered table and savagely taking their weapons to the last two Fey still loyal to Parsinkle, the Redcaps flying out of the small crowd to smash against the wall, laughing weakly before they fell into unconsciousness. Still, the two heard him all too clearly, and the note of frantic rage in his voice.

 

 

 

 

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"Dream's are ephemeral beasts!" replied Rene, turning on the lord of lies. 

 

"I suggest the Dream changes to fit the world, rather than the world change to fit your dream! Happiness lies not in having what you want, but wanting what you have!"

 

He was quite pleased with the crystal focus of his mind in response to his rage, and the wisdom of the ages floating down to zen like delicacies spewed from his tongue. 

 

But it was not just wisdom he wished to dispense. No no, he wished to box Parsinkle on the nose. With a flourish, he painted magic onto reality. In this wond'rous realm, extravagances came more easily, with colour more vibrant. A large comedy boxing glove, propelled by creaking wooden hinges, flew straight towards the Fey...

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GM

 

Parsinkle was apparently out of turns of phrase, as he responded with a wild snarl to the artistic wizard's challenge to his philosophy, and ducking at the last moment when the magical missile whizzed at him, though it swung around into the air for another pass!

'One thing is for certain', Marceau reflected as he tightened his grip on the metal ribbon wrapped around his hand, 'This place is really doing something for Rene's sense of humor!' With a grin he deftly looped the coil around both hands and pulled with all his might-only for the Prince to latch onto a leg of the table, turning the simple task of dragging him closer into something like fighting a crocodile!

 

With a frustrated grimace, the King of Suits leaped forward, whipping the ram gauntlets from his belt and lashing out at the Prince's prone form, only for them to dent the wall behind him with a resounding clang as his target leaped aside at the last moment!

 

The rebels were on him then, and soon Parsinkle was buried under a pile of furious subjects, soon rendered unconscious from the rain of hafts and swordblades crashing down on him. As the others went to work venting their hatred and fear on the Redcap ruler, one of them from the dust-gatherers managed to break away for a moment, jogging up to the two humans and grinning at them with unfettered glee "Our thanks to ye! Have yer brush back magey" she added, tossing the fine artist's weapon to Rene. "Ye've done a lot fer us! We won't forget it, but you better clear out now 'afore we decide we don't want anyone wit the Prince's spell on 'em here." cocking her head to one side, she listened to the growing sounds of chaos spreading through the castle. "Seems like we gots it well in hand! Come back anytime ye feel lonesome, 'cept when we're hungry, ye can find yer own way back. And throw Hartfoul out a window of ye see 'im!"

 

With that, she flung herself back into the merry party beating Parsinkle into a stain on the floor, the general mood shifting with great certainty to one where the humans were no longer wanted.

Edited by Arichamus
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Rene snapped his fingers. 

 

"Hartfoul!" he said aloud. 

 

It was clear that Parsinkles reign - a multifaceted realm, but not one he would weep for passing - was at an end. The plot was broken and spent. But Hartfoul, he judged, would harbour resentment. Of the two, Hartfoul seemed full of bile and blackness, whereas Parsinkle was merely full of grandeur. 

 

"Marceau! What of Hartfoul? I would not want him escaping justice - even if it is of a cruel sort - for he is more cruel still, and will no doubt plot revenge, of most bitter flavour....at us, or possibly the mortal world..."

 

"I do not wish to tarry in this seductive and won'drous realm, but the thought of him amok is chilling!"

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The younger man winced as Parsinkle proceeded to have the stuffing beat out of him, though his concern was quickly chased away by Rene's sudden point about Hartfoul. "We can't just leave him to wreak more havoc here" he agreed, quickly recovering his coil card with a flick of a gloved wrist. Winding and folding the metal strips back into their familiar shape, the King of Suits marched quickly out the badly wrecked door, glancing around at the chaos in the corridors with rebels locked in savage combat with the soldiers and courtiers of Parsinkle's castle. Frowning deeply the Frenchman muttered "But...could we find him? He managed to slip away from the battle in the feast hall without anyone seeing him..." dodging a halberd flung from the hand of a stricken guard, he flicked a razor card thoughtfully in and out of his sleeve. Then his blue eyes lit up, and he exclaimed happily "I have it! To the horses!" Taking Rene's hand he set off with a leap of his long, powerful legs.

 

Leading the way to the stables the pair had seen while being first led to the palace, Marceau explained eagerly "These Fey are cunning, my friend, but they have many of the same weaknesses as us! Hartfoul will need a way to get out of the city, escape to the Red Courts without being taken, thus he will need a horse!"

 

Grinning in excitement as the pair raced through the halls, the King of Suits and Rene de Saens stumbled to a halt just short of the stables, inside which they could see the Redcap in charge of the horses calmly helping a serene Hartfoul onto the back of a mighty destrier. "Parsinkle has served us even in defeat" he was saying thoughtully, the round and unsettling man getting heavily into the saddle "he will be seen as something other than he was, and the rebels have proven they are a grave danger." his Redcap's grin seemed to make his face grow by a foot in every direction "My thanks, sweet nephew. Lay the next plans, do not dwell on midnight" he added, over his shoulder, riding out at a trot, and turning around just in time to see the humans.

 

He paled severely "Ah...good evening. I was merely going to ensure our justice was done."

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"Justice is not for one man, Monsieur" said Rene, walking up to Hartfoul's horse and patting it gently. "And you seem to think it is your's to own by some divine right..." he sighed. 

 

"Tell me, Hartfoul. What demon is snapping at your heels to move you so? I guess you have wealth, power, and wit? what drives you now? more power? and then what? more power? that road will never end..."

 

He shook his head. 

 

"And I think you would be more a threat as prisoner than free man, somehow. Perhaps kindness is the best remedy to your plots. But tell me, all of this...why?" he gazed somberly into the Fey's eyes. 

 

Rene felt old and tired, and disinclined against further violence and blood after the madness of the feast. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

GM

 

"Forgive me human" Hartfoul said with an expression that said much the opposite "but unless you dwell for so long in the Endless Summer, can you understand what it is like to know only servitude? I shall speak plainly: what you see as an endless tunnel I see as an endless stair!"

 

Snapping his fingers, the Fey vanished from sight, even Rene's mystical attunement failing to detect him "My spider's plans proceed, though this rebellion commence, the Redcaps freed by cold-eyed sense, we shall not need you, though the Red Courts fall, we shall prove this to one and all!"

 

With that, his voice vanished into the stiff winds blowing across the strange plain Parsinkle's castle stood on, and only the riot of battle could be heard.

 

Except for one whisper "Though the tree-trapped kings...they may wreck all...."

 

It was a quick trek back to the world of reason and humanity, thanks to Rene de Saen's painted portals, and soon the duo were being warmly celebrated for saving those caught by the Redcaps, everyone eager to hear of the King of Suit's and Rene's adventures in the world where one says goodbye to gravity, and to death.

 

 

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