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Post by Tillian Panthesis on Apr 5, 2017 15:44:22 GMT 1
April 6th of 2017
Somewhere inside a warehouse in Boston, a group of thieves were passing time. They were playing card games, drinking, reading books and tinkering with their own gadget devices.
“Analytical is late again. Erastes must be a massive cunt if he manages to hold him back,” One of the thieves complained.
The scarred African-American gave him an indignant look and yelled, “Watch it! We’re scholars now, not thieves. We’re supposed to be above this plebeian rubbish!”
“Calm down, Gluck. This is Candle safe house. It’s not like some bookish gentleman would walk into this shithole.”
Then the door swung open and everybody froze.
Analytical was at the door. Beside him was Will.
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Post by Cali on Apr 5, 2017 22:40:06 GMT 1
April 5, 2017
Raustin did not even set the butt of his long rifle into his shoulder properly as he fired the weapon, the shot bouncing off just above one of the beast's nostrils. This may have saved his life, as the kick blew him onto his back as the stock of the rifle hammered into his upper chest, the creature's initial attack missing as it lashed out to bite him.
Quickly crawling away, Raustin left his long gun behind as the massive serpent attempted to gauge its bearings, and try to find him.
Scotch called out. "Oi! Over here you scaly cunt!"
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Post by Lily Ariel Linders on Apr 6, 2017 14:20:04 GMT 1
100 Words April 2017
April 6, 2017
(Finally, the sixth and final wife of King Henry VIII: Katherine Parr. Katherine Parr was not only the final wife of Henry VIII, but she was also the final Queen Consort of the House of Tudor. King Henry VIII died on January 28, 1547. After his death, Katherine was allowed to keep her jewels and gowns she had as Queen, as well as the title of Queen Dowager, a title that was denied to Henry's first wife, Katherine of Aragon. Six months later, Katherine Parr married Thomas Seymour, the brother of Henry's third wife Jane Seymour and uncle to the new King Edward VI. She died in September 1548, most likely from complications of childbirth.)
Katherine Parr read and re-read the letter held tightly in her trembling hand. Just four months since her husband Lord Latimer died, and already she had received a new marriage proposal.
But not from just any man. No, if this were any other man, Katherine would have been able to reject the proposal.
But this was King Henry VIII. Rejecting his advances could prove catastrophic.
The only thing to do would be to accept his offer of marriage and hope for the best.
Katherine could only hope that she would survive marriage to the man who outlived four out of five previous wives.
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Post by Tillian Panthesis on Apr 6, 2017 17:07:40 GMT 1
7th of April 2017
“Are you insane?!” Gluck asked as he raises his voice.
Analytical and Gluck were in their office, looking over their window and watched as Will was mingling with the other members of the Candle.
Analytical shook his head, “Not my call, it’s either this or the collaboration is over.”
“Ani, he ain’t no ordinary bookworm. Professor Rogers was connected to the Savage family. You know, his father-in-law was an influential banker!”
They continued to watch, as Will was looking through an elaborate praxinoscope device. The professor then pulled himself from the lens.
“What an marvelous device. Although, I'm not quite sure about your choice in using those images.”
Gluck shot back at Analytical with a worried look.
“Well, at least Middy isn’t in the same room,” Analytical shrugged.
Then a childish echoing voice was heard, “Hello Mr. Rogers.”
“Fuck,” said Analytical.
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Post by Cali on Apr 6, 2017 23:39:02 GMT 1
April 6, 2017
The left side of Scotch's coat was rather ripped up, with bite marks, and a bit of blood. He unsheathed his heraldic hunting dagger, leaped onto the neck of the creature and began ferociously stabbing it on the top of his head. The scales were think, and the creature made a hiss that sounded like a billion gasping demons.
Scotch was then bucked off, hitting the grass and rolling around next to Raustin.
"Why hello." Scotch told him.
Raustin felt like strangling him or throwing him to the creature for his horrid joke. The serpent began to slither away and escape.
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Post by Lily Ariel Linders on Apr 8, 2017 2:11:32 GMT 1
100 Words April 2017
April 7, 2017
(My apologies for the late entry. Off the topic of The Tudors for now, I may return to that historical world later. For now, I am writing a few entries based on the Daedric missions in The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim.
First Daedric Mission – The Razor of Mehrunes Dagon!)
The Razor of Mehrunes Dagon: Part I
Ariadne stalked up the path to the mountaintop, head down, muttering vague curses under her breath. She hated following the orders of that pompous, puffed-up piece of horker dung, but this was the only way she could think of to make sure Dagon's Artifact would not end up in dangerous hands.
Ariadne remembered the stories her mother had told her from the dark days of the Oblivion Crisis, when the Cult of the Mythic Dawn had assassinated Emperor Uriel Septim VII, leading to the war to defend Tamriel from the daedric invasion.
How could this man, this Silus Vesuius, believe that the Mythic Dawn was worthy of being honoured?
(To be continued)
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Post by Tillian Panthesis on Apr 8, 2017 9:57:30 GMT 1
8th of April 2017
“Middy, I’ve told you before not to go and spook visitors!” Analytical yelled at the silver engraved cube, that was sitting on the work desk.
A soft blue light illuminated, as Middy spoke, “But Mr. Rogers asked ‘what is this?’. So I’ve told him what I am.”
Analytical’s voice lowered as he gave her a stern warning, “Middy…”
“Don’t be so hard on the girl, Percival,” Will defended. He continued, “She’s a splendid creation. You made her, right?”
Analytical rubbed his neck awkwardly, “Sort of. I’ve found her spirit from a Pompeii antique. So, I’ve built this device for her to housed in.”
“Ah, that’s quite kind of you. She did also mention that the guild’s motto was Mens et Manus. Mind and Hand.”
“That was Serpe’s idea. He thought that putting the two together would be the best way to make a successful break,” Analytical answered, then realising he just blurted out their criminal antics.
Before he could react, Will remarked, “Quite a poetic statement. That should also be the motto for our new Institute. What do you think, Percival?”
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Post by Lily Ariel Linders on Apr 8, 2017 16:26:31 GMT 1
100 Words April 2017
April 8, 2017
The Razor of Mehrunes Dagon: Part II
Ariadne steeled herself against her vengeful mind as she reached the shrine at the mountaintop. The Imperial bastard was already waiting for her beside a large altar.
The Altmer woman listened impatiently as Vesuius explained his plan. He was going to beg Mehrunes Dagon to restore the pieces of the Razor, and grant him his favour.
So many ways this will go wrong, Ariadne thought to herself as she watched the Imperial place the dagger shards reverently on the altar. Ariadne heaved a sigh of exasperation when, just as she'd expected, Dagon did not respond to Vesuius and the petulant Imperial then demanded that she appeal to the Daedric Prince instead.
Here we go, she thought angrily as she approached the altar.
(To be continued)
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Post by Tillian Panthesis on Apr 9, 2017 8:27:53 GMT 1
9th of April 2017
Things are looking up again. Analytical's academic relations with Will were going well now, to the point they are drinking buddies. Every Friday night, Analytical goes to Rogers’ residence and drank a glass of scotch with him, while discussing many kinds of subject besides the academic procedures. Such as earth minerals, history, politics, literature, arts, philosophy.
And of course, the matter of courtship.
“I’m not too keen on finding a spouse, honestly,” Analytical remarked. He then added, “Besides, I’ve yet to find a lady that suits my finicky taste.”
“What kind of lady you’re looking for?” Will asked, while taking another sip.
“Well, I want someone who is more than just a pretty face. Smart, witty, great strength. Both in and out. Not afraid to speak out loud.”
“Well, to be frank, Percival. Your best chance to find that kind of lady, is going to France.”
“We should set sail there then.”
Both men chuckled and tapped their glasses together.
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Post by Lily Ariel Linders on Apr 9, 2017 14:36:33 GMT 1
100 Words April 2017
April 9, 2017
The Razor of Mehrunes Dagon: Part III
To Ariadne's surprise, the Prince of Destruction actually spoke to her. She listened in silence as Dagon poured scorn on Vesuius for his weakness and demanded that she kill Vesuius instead.
She had to think about that one. One the one hand, she'd sworn a vow to never harm an innocent – and Silus Vesuius had not actually harmed anyone despite his misguided obsession with a long-dead Daedric cult. On the other hand, he was campaigning for the honour and possible return of a Daedric cult that had once come so close to ending the world.
This would be a difficult choice to make...
(To be continued)
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Post by Lily Ariel Linders on Apr 10, 2017 12:04:30 GMT 1
100 Words April 2017
April 10, 2017
The Razor of Mehrunes Dagon: Part IV
Silus Vesuius backed away slowly as Ariadne looked up from the altar upon Dagon's final command. He began to plead with her for mercy, and Ariadne realized then that he'd been able to hear Dagon's every word.
Ariadne took a breath, unsure of what to do. She did not want to kill the man, but it would be dangerous to disobey the Prince of Destruction on this matter. Especially since Vesuius worshiped Mehrunes Dagon and the Mythic Dawn, and might have been trying to bring them back to power – although, now that he'd heard Dagon order his death, he might be less inclined to back the return of a Dagonic cult...
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Post by Tillian Panthesis on Apr 11, 2017 5:45:52 GMT 1
10th of April 2017
(Sorry for missing yesterday's entry. Had a busy time, that time went past midnight. So here's yesterday's. I'll post today's entry later.)
It was Friday night again. Analytical was heading to the Rogers’ place, intending to drink more scotch. There was something he wanted to discuss tonight. He began to ponder how technology will evolve in years time. More importantly, where would the Massachusetts Institute of Technology find its place within this chaotic society?
Analytical has reached the front door and knocked. He pull his hat down and greeted, “Good evening Will. don’t mind if-.”
But it wasn’t Will who opened the door. It was his wife, Emma. She was very distraught.
“Percival, did you see my husband today?” She asked.
Analytical shook his head, “No… Wait a minute. William is not at home?”
“No, that’s why I asked.”
Analytical widen his eye in horror, as he realised that Will was abducted by Erastes.
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Post by Lily Ariel Linders on Apr 12, 2017 2:10:17 GMT 1
100 Words April 2017
April 11, 2017
The Razor of Mehrunes Dagon: Part V
Silus Vesuius readied a spell in his hands. The woman was just staring at him, or rather – through him. She had not moved yet, though Silus was disinclined to give her much of a chance to attack him.
He knew he would not survive if she decided to follow Dagon's demand – she was clearly dangerous, given Dagon's interest in her.
She wasn't going to back down, he realized as he saw her hand twitch toward the bow on her back.
Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, Silus raised his hands and shot a powerful bolt of ice at the Altmer woman.
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Post by Tillian Panthesis on Apr 12, 2017 8:57:31 GMT 1
11th of April 2017
There was a massive thump at the safehouse, as Analytical rushed in and slammed the door shut. Everyone in the room stood up from their seats.
“Where’s Gluck?” Analytical asked.
Then Gluck walked out of the room, who was holding a small arcane capsule. Analytical saw a grave look on his face. Analytical knew it was about Will.
“Ani. One of Erastes men told me to give you this,” Gluck responded glumly.
“Put the damn thing on the table,” Analytical ordered.
Gluck placed the capsule on the work desk.
Analytical sighed, “Let me guess: He wants us to smuggle the goods to the confederates, in exchange for William's life?”
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Post by Lily Ariel Linders on Apr 12, 2017 12:56:16 GMT 1
100 Words April 2017
April 12, 2017
The Razor of Mehrunes Dagon: Part VI
Ariadne dove to the side, dropping into a roll away from Vesuius, narrowly avoiding the icy spear he'd fired her way. Snarling with rage, she surged to her feet and brought the bow up, her impressive marksmanship sending an ebony arrow directly at him. He tried to dodge, and almost made it as the arrow pierced his upper thigh, sending him crashing to the ground with a cry of pain.
He tried to ready another ice spear, but the Altmer was too fast. Another arrow shot, this time to the throat. As he lay dying, gasping his final breaths, Silus Vesuius never even felt the third arrow as it finally penetrated his heart.
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