Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login

Similar Deviations
Nightmare

Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3 Moveset:

Gender: Male

Species: Evil Spirit/Sword

Game Series: Soul Series

First Appearance: Soul Edge (1995)

Health: 1,050,000 HP Points

Voice Actor: Patrick Ryan

Power Ranking (Out of 7)

Intelligence: 3
Strength: 7
Speed: 5
Stamina: 5
Energy Projection: 5
Fighting Ability: 7

Assist Alpha: Soul Edge Guillotine (Direct, Tilt Down)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion
Assist Beta: Soul Edge Spear (Direct, Front)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion
Assist Gamma: Soul Wave (Direct, Instant)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion

Description:

There was a time when a man named Siegfried Schtauffen took control of the Soul Edge, becoming powerless under the power of the blade. He eventually was able to retrieve his mentality and used the power of the holy blade Soul Calibur in order to save his body. He was separated from his Nightmare form and became the new wielder of Soul Calibur, while Inferno made a pact with Zasalmel, who made him a new body of his own. Thus…Nightmare was born.

Entrance: Nightmare will have his back turned to his opponent. Then, swinging Soul Edge over his head, he'll turn around and get into his fighting stance.

Entrance Quotes:

#1: Give in to the Dark Abyss of Despair!

#2: Taste Fear!!~

#3: Tremble within my Darkness!!

#4: Your soul will soon become mine!

#5: My Power is absolute!

Against Ryu: Warrior of Legend…your soul shall be mine!

Against Akuma: Your soul is like that of my own…

Against Sentinel/Zero: Soulless being, be gone from my Sight!

Moves:

Attack Layout:

Ground Level

Standing Light: Sword Handle (51,000)

Standing Medium: High Kick (64,000)

Standing Light: Nightmare Gauntlet (80,000)

Standing Special: Soul Edge Upper Swing (90,000)

Crouched

Crouching Light: Low Kick (49,000)

Crouching Medium: Low Gauntlet (65,000)

Crouching Hard: Low Soul Edge Sweep (78,000)

Air Attacks

Air Light: Straight Kick (57,000)

Air Medium: Soul Edge Slash (70,000)

Air Hard: Soul Edge Slash #2 (80,000)

Air Special: Soul Edge Axe (90,000)

Unique Moves

Straight Stab (F + H) (85,000)

Nightmare Smash (F + M) (70,000)

Special Moves

NightMare Punch (Qcf + L) (90,000)

Charged with the powers of Soul Edge, Nightmare will do a straight punch charged with dark energy. The attack can stop fireballs if timed properly.

Soul Edge Guillotine (Qcf + M) (100,000)

Nightmare will bring down his Soul Edge on the opponent, the attack causing an OTG bounce and can stop projectiles.

Soul Edge Spear (Qcf + H) (110,000)

Nightmare's reach at its best. Nightmare will stick out his sword straight at the opponent. This attack can smash through any projectile in the game and takes up 2/3 of the screen in distance.

Knight Crusher (Dp + A) (140,000)

His standing Mashing Y/Triangle combo from SC4, Nightmare will smash down his sword a total of three times, the first two times causing a possible hit decay while the third strike causes a ground bounce.

Soul Crusher Side Slash (Qcb + L) (95,000)

Charged with electric blue soul power, Nightmare will swing his sword sideways, sending the opponent flying back. The attack can cancel out fireballs.

Soul Crusher Uppercut Slash (Qcb + M) (115,000)

Charged with electric blue soul power, Nightmare will uppercut his sword and the opponent with it. This attack can be air comboed into if the attack is timed right.

Soul Crusher Drop Kick (Qcb + H) (120,000)

Charged with electric blue soul power, Nightmare will do a double leg drop kick at the opponent, causing a wall bounce upon connecting with them.

Soul Wave (Down + Down + A) (100,000)

Nightmare will build up a large amount of energy within his body, then expelling it outward in a barrier-like burst. This attack causes an instant Wall bounce upon contact, even from the other side of the screen.

Hyper Combos

Flaming Souls (Qcf + AA) (300,000)

A quick one-hit armored Hyper combo, Nightmare will take Soul Edge in both hands and the blade will alight on fire. Nightmare will then lunge forward and uppercut it into the air, This attack has 2 hits of hyper armor and the flame lengthens the amount of distance on the hyper combo. This attack cancels out all projectile attacks and can even cancel out high priority hyper combos like C.Viper's Emergency Combination.

Soul Explosion (Dp + AA) (285,000)

Nightmare will charge Soul Edge with negative energy and do a lance stab with the sword, large amounts of dark energy flying around the sword as he does so, causing a large amount of combo damage.

Soul Destroyer (Down + Down + AA) (280,000)

A counter hyper combo, Nightmare will charge up a very large amount of energy within his body. If the opponent attacks him as he does so, he'll expel the energy outward in a shockwave, sending the opponent flying and causing a wall bounce.

Level 3: Critical Finish (Qcb + AA) (450,000)

Nightmare's Critical Finish from  is now his level 3 Hyper combo. The attack begins with an uppercut sword slash. If the attack connects with the opponent, Nightmare will throw his sword up into the air, which will air combo the opponent before bringing them back down into the ground. Soul Edge will then cause a giant area of dark energy to appear around the opponent as it combos them and explodes, ending the hyper combo.

Victory Pose:

Nightmare will take the Soul Edge in both hands, then raising it above his head, the sword shooting off Red Lightning from its tip into the air.

Victory Quotes:

#1: The Nightmare…will NEVER END!!

#2: Blood…Darkness…Come Unto Me!!

#3: Your souls…were rather good!

#4: Your Meager Souls are WORTHLESS!!!

#5: The Darkness is everlasting!!

#6: The End...is near!

Against Ryu/Akuma/Wolverine: Warrior…your soul shall surely satisfy me!

Assist Quotes:

Call Partner:

"Destroy!"

Switch-Out:

"Tremble in Fear!"

Last Person Switch Out:

"The Darkness is coming for you!!"

Color Scheme:

#1: Dark Blue

#2: Black

#3: Dark Red

#4: Dark Green

#5: Dark Brown

#6: Dark Purple

I hereby give Capcom full rights over this moveset and are welcome to use this in any way/shape/form that they desire.
"TREMBLE IN MY DARKNESS!!"

*Ahem* Well...I've been playing alot of Soul Calibur 4 lately and...well...I was tempted to make a moveset for possibly one of the best and coolest game villains ever, Nightmare from the Soul Calibur . This guy is one of the reasons I hope they expand to Namco vs. Capcom after Street Fighter X Tekken is done, for I'd use a team of Felicia and Nightmare (And Wesker if it's 3 vs 3) and be completely unstoppable! >8D

Anyways...enjoy everyone. :3
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

As the young blond traced small details onto her map, she wiped a bit of sweat from her brow. For early fall, it sure was hot... Or perhaps that was just the heat of the furnace getting to her? Sighing, Fleet dropped her quill and stood up, dragging her hand through her short, fluffy hair. The day had been long, and the evidence of this was all over her body- Dirty clothes, a small smudge of coal dust on her left cheek... Not to mention the fact that her hands were stained with ink. But all the dirt, all of that dust had been worth it. It was always worth it. Sitting back down again, she didn't even notice the sun setting as she her mind floated in the lala land that most refer to as reverie. Nor did she notice the tall shadow striding towards her house, a diamond block in hand.

No, Fleet was far too lost in her thoughts to even realize that she'd left the door open. Too busy thinking about how she dove down into that cave everyday, and always hauled back such a huge load. Today was the day she'd actually done something a little different. Fleet had traveled far in order to find a new cave, and add to her map. The thought of fresh air just seemed great, really. And it was- Until she'd seen that tall ass stilty creature running around with a sand block in it's hand. She didn't even know how lucky she was that it hadn't noticed that she'd seen it... Or so she thought. She'd taken off too soon to even pay attention to what it was, dropping the diamond block she'd just crafted in the process. That had absolutely sucked. There were so many things she could've done with that diamond...

Fleet leaned back in her chair, letting out a yawn that turned into a startled yelp as the door slammed, jumping up a little. The jump caused her chair to scoot back a little and then fall over. Her eyes widened as the shadow creature from before stared down at her, just... Staring back. Both were frozen. The Enderman because it was being stared at, and the human because she was scared as NETHER. This fear spiked as Fleet's eyes drifted to the diamond block it was holding. She recognized that block. Did this thing follow her? She looked back at the Enderman, letting out yet another yelp as it seemed to have gotten closer, leaned in closer. Why in the Nether had it followed her all that way? And more importantly, it seemed hostile. Kinda. So if it was following her that whole way, it would've had a chance to kill her any time it wanted.

So, why didn't it? As she continued staring at the creature, she shuddered. That whispering... It was terrifying. Like listening to a ghost or something. Maybe it was a ghost? Gulping, she struggled not to blink. And failed. The Enderman took this chance to kneel down and lean in closer, it's long, gangly limbs dragging on the floor for quite a length. When Fleet opened her eyes again, she wasn't surprised that it was closer... But she still whimpered anyway. Was she going to die today? So, lying there upside down with her feet in the air, she was going to die. Sitting in a chair upside down. Whatever happened to creepers just exploding and sending your limbs flying? Or being arrowed to death? Since when did monsters act so personal when they killed you? Questions like these flooded the teen's mind as her heart pounded...

It was an interesting thing, being terrified. It was almost like being in love. Your heart felt like it was gonna explode in your chest, your emotions ran rampant, you felt like you were about to cry, and you're afraid to speak. They both sent adrenaline pumping through your veins. Was there really even a difference? The Enderman stared down at her, vaguely wondering when the girl was gonna give him a chance to move again. He didn't have long to wait- She shut her eyes to squeeze the tears away. He moved in closer, closer... Until his face was an inch from hers. Her eyes popped open, and the tears began to flow. Why keep from crying? She was going to die anyway... Maybe it was best to let her tear ducts have their way?

Unable to move, the Enderman merely stared at her with his glowing green eyes. The air felt tight. Fleet knew that if she closed her eyes one more time, she would die immediately. It would eat her, or something. The Enderman, of course, had other plans. Not that Fleet knew anything about them. In her pocket, her clock ticked. Her heart beat erratically when compared to the ticking. Ticking, thumping, inaudible whispers. Each second of it seemed to last an hour. Her eyes began to feel dry, and the tears made her eyelids feel a little crusty.

Just one blink, it would make it better... Wouldn't it? But just one blink... And she'd die, wouldn't she? But it didn't matter. No matter what, she'd die. It wasn't like she could attack... If she moved her gaze from this strange, tall shadow for even a second to pull out her sword, she'd still die. Fleet's eyelids began to droop, and the Enderman's eyes brightened a little. Suddenly, the girl was just... So... Tired. She just wanted to shut her eyes. There was nothing she could do now. No matter what, if she moved her eyes from the gangly beast at all, she'd die. Quietly, one last tear slipped from her left eye as they both closed for what she thought was forever.
Inspired by Minecraft's Enderman, obviously. xD
There will be two alternate endings to this. One is based on how a Herobrine and a creeper are made. :3
However, I'll take requests for endings... So I'll upload all ending requests. :3
God, I'm so uncreative with names. This Fleet is in no way related to my Ribbon Eel Girl Fleet. xD
Ending- Gone Forever [link]
Alternate Ending- Pity the Taken [link]
Romance Ending- Didn't mean to scare you, oops [link]

I love R&R~ It brings improvement, I think. :3
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

(Requested by Dekler :3)
Fleet waited.
And waited.
And waited.

....

She opened her eyes, and saw that the Enderman had backed away slightly, and was now holding out a hand to help her up. The blond stared. What... Why on earth? In utter confusion, she grabbed it's hand and let out a yelp as it hoisted her to her feet with ease and held out the diamond block she'd abandoned when she'd run away. But why? Fleet tilted her head and took the block, looking into the Enderman's eyes. It stared back and seemed to quiver a little, but it could still move. Why? Just... Why?

The answer was because it liked those big bright blue eyes, and the shiny hair. The Enderman wondered whether or not the hair was soft. Fleet didn't understand why it was staring at her hair... Did it want to pet her or someth- Her question was answered as it raised it's hand to her head and ran it through her short hair. It sent a small shock through her, jolting her body. It was indeed soft, and the Enderman could detect a faint sugary scent wafting from the pretty locks. Fleet on the other hand just felt sort of awkward. This was sorta weird... A faint blush appeared on her cheeks, because she was so confused and embarrassed. Did this tall gangly thing just follow her to her house to pet her, or what?

She looked at the floor, down at the Enderman's feet. The second she did, she saw him take a step forward and looked up in surprise- SURPRISE! Much to her absolute confusion, she'd looked up and locked lips with the Enderman. Almost immediately, she took a step away. However, the Enderman just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close again. He liked her. He liked her a lot. He liked the feelings his tummy had when he looked into her eyes, and he especially liked the feeling that he'd had just now. Fleet's face was bright red... This was so awkward. Did this beast.. No, this person have no idea what was coursing through her mind right now? In all honesty, it was like it had a crush on her or something... Oh god. Oh god. Her eye's widened, and she looked up at the tall, dark shadow she was being hugged by. Despite being rather naive when it came to love, she knew what she saw in those eyes. Infatuation. Curiosity. But no lust. That was interesting. But still awkward. Here she was being apparently courted by him, even though he'd just been terrifying the hell out of her a few minutes ago. What. The. Heck? She thought, unconsciously leaning her head onto his chest.

The Enderman let out a gleeful whisper and hugged her tighter, wishing it could speak to her. But it couldn't, not in this realm. In this realm, he was paralyzed by the stares of everyone until they looked away. And for some reason, after they stopped looking at him, he would attack most of them. He didn't understand why, though. Nor did he understand how this girl was any different, other than the fact that he liked her a lot. But he didn't know if she knew. What if... he took her to his realm, to The End? After all, he couldn't court her correctly, otherwise. When Endermen found mates, they went to the Great and wise Enderdragon and asked for a scale with which to propose to their mate. The dragon would give them the scale, and they in turn would give the scale to the lucky Enderman/woman. Or, in this case, Human. The idea in his head felt great, so the Enderman went with it. He let go of Fleet, who'd been sort of comfortable for a while there and tore one of her heavy curtains from the window, draping it over himself. It was daytime now, so they needed to make a break towards the portal.

Fleet stared, not really happy with him for ripping her curtains off of their hinges, even if it was probably to protect him from the light. However, she had no time to say anything about it, because the Enderman grabbed her by the hand after wrapping himself tight with the curtain and threw one of his Enderpearls to the ground. Fleet let out a yelp of surprise- Not the first one today- as they were instantly warped to the inside of a Stronghold, in front of a large glowing square with lava below it. Fleet had no idea what it was, she only knew that the seemingly suicidal Enderman was pulling her along with him into the portal, straight towards the lava. "Are you crazy?!" She screamed in total horror, not wanting to die today. However, they didn't die. The bright portal blocks caught them instead, and they fazed away instantly. Fleet blinked.

Then unblinked. Suddenly, the two of them were in a strange world, where there were Ender people everywhere. They looked up with interest, seeing one of their brethren covered in a strange cloth, and him holding hands with a pale skinned girl. One of the female Enderman came up to him and asked, "What is this?" In a whispery voice. She wasn't mean about it, just inquisitive. Another one came up. "A ghost?" He suggested, tilting his head. Fleet's Enderman shook his head. "No... Human." He stated, smiling. Within the actual realm of The End, one could actually see an Enderman's features quite well. Fleet was confused. "Umm.." She murmured, tilting her head. The Enderwoman looked up in surprise. "You can... Speak?" She asked innocently, so much so that Fleet had to crack a smile. "Well, yeah. But... Um... Where are we?" She asked, tilting her head. The Enderwoman smiled back and giggled. "In The End, of course. Ec'e Has brought you here, for reasons we don't know..." She explained, reaching up suddenly to run a hand through Fleet's golden hair. It shone brightly within the dim light of The End, making her truly seem like a ghost. Fleet blushed a little, not used to so much attention. However, she turned to Ec'e, the Enderman who had brought her here, and whom she'd seemed to develop a small attachment to. "Why did you bring me here... Ec'e?" The young woman asked, tilting her head. Ec'e Looked away slightly, and a tinge of purple came to his cheeks. "I can't ask you until I go get something." He explained, then turned to the Enderwoman who was busy petting Fleet. "Eun'e, can you maybe show her around while I go do something?" He asked, and Eun'e nodded. She knew exactly what was going on. But first, she looked at Fleet, who had a look of confusion plastered onto her pretty face. "What's your name?" She asked, smiling as she led her off towards god knows where. "I'm Fleet. Nice to meet you." She said happily. Eun'e's smile widened. "I am Eun'e, as you know. Nice to meet you as well, Fleet. I'm Ec'e's sister, by the way." The two walked off, with a few other Enderpeople following along to question the Human about her world. In the meantime, it was up to Ec'e to get a scale from the Almighty Enderdragon.

It wasn't all that hard to scale the islands of Whitestone to get to the Enderdragon. What was hard was getting him to give him permission to become lifemates with the human girl, Fleet. The dragon simply did not understand. "You..." It rumbled in it's deep voice, which still had an echoey tone to it, "Wish to take a human. Not from this realm, not even your own species... That's interesting. But why do you wish to do so?  Is it because she's a shiny new toy, to show off to all the others?" It asked, tilting it's head as it inspected it's huge claws. Ec'e shook his head, but had trouble finding the words to speak. The dragon smirking and leaned in close, until his large snout was a mere inch away from Ec'e's face. "So. You don't want to show the human off. I can see into your mind, why you like this human. No Enderperson has ever caught your eye, but when you saw the human today, you felt a flipping in your stomach, didn't you? Something new, special, pretty, full of wonder and life. Something you could fall in love with." It murmured, making Ec'e's face go dark purple. That was exactly how he felt. But the way the Great Enderdragon had put it, it sounded like it was shallow and not even real love.

Suddenly, the dragon turned away and let out a great, laughing, roar. He plucked a scale from his hide and turned around, handing it to Ec'e. "Go now, little Enderman. Just go." He ordered, still chuckling. Ec'e booked it off the mountain, grinning like a madman. He was going to get Fleet, and take her. They would be each others. As long as she accepted the scale.

And you now what?

She did.
xD Ending requested by :icondekler:
I fail at cute endings, so it's really super duper uber sappy. xD
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.


Games > Elder Scroll Series > Pre Skyrim
Pairings: Cicero / Future Dragonborn - Listener
Location:  Bravil 188 4E (well before events at Helgen in 4E 201)


Story Status: Complete!
(All Chapters 1 - 6 posted)


Summary:  Tasked with delivering an important message to the Listener Alisanne Dupre in Bravil, a young and cocky Cicero let's curiosity get the best of him.  The Listener's stammering and seemingly meek apprentice Beatriz, he soon learns is but a year his junior.  She is also an "innocent" and not apart of the Dark Brotherhood.  At least not yet according to Alisanne and even though Cicero is ordered, during his short stay to help protect yet keep his distance from her apprentice, he cannot help but bend the rules.  To not just find out why Beatriz holds the Night Mother's interest but his as well.


~.~.~
~.~
.


Warning:  I choked up a little during writing this chapter.  So you may need a tissue too.


His hand upon her cheek told him what was coming more so than his at the moment useless eyes or her stammering word.  Cicero felt then heard her knife drop from his throat to clatter upon the wooden floor.  With it his fear and concerns fell away too.  All that remained was desire and a burning curiosity.  He never thought his first kiss would come to him like this.  But it was welcomed all the same, even though he knew only of her name, the sound of her sweet struggling voice and so very little of her face.  Yet he was content for now to learn the feel and taste of those slender lips.  


Teasing them back his left hand opened and closed.  Unsure where to go till he decided to cautiously rest it upon Beatriz’s hip.  Squeezing gently, silently telling her not to stop.  Encouraged she did not and he felt her stretch to tip toes to wrap her arms over his shoulders.  Dropping his hand from her face, he slipped both of them next to the small of her back.  Pulling her into a tight hug as a new urgency grew within him.  


A small part of it was to wiggle free and make a run for it.  Since if the Listener caught them like this, Cicero was pretty sure he would face serious consequences.  Breaking at least one of the tenets although as of yet technically he was not disobeying his superior.  Or so he reasoned as he gave into the denied and forbidden that was the Listener's, not so innocent after all apprentice.  Beatriz still could not see him, at least not clearly as he could only see so much of her as well.  And when she asked who he was he gave the lie the Listener provided easily.


Regardless the other and larger part of him wanted more.  Not just kissing but to simply get to know her better.  Seemingly meek but full of surprises, he wondered what others she had in store.  Cicero could only hope to deliver more messages to their Mistress or even a contract to bring him back at least once more to Bravil.  To Beatriz but for now Cicero tried to push all worries and daydreams of such things aside.  To focus upon the here and now, Beatriz's lips and the clean and somehow cooling taste of them.  As if she had just munched upon a few carrots for a snack.


When her tongue at last shyly sought and met his Cicero trembled.  It took all his self-control to not rush in like a brute and taste her deeper.  Instead he wanted to feel what she was going to do next.  The slow, careful yet intense kiss alone was more than he ever expected.  At the most he hoped to just share a few words, get her to laugh and leave her with a smile.  


But a hard life taught him the value of keeping the bar low.  Or better still to not expect much from anyone.  Before becoming an assassin and since the bloody moment of his baby sister’s birth Cicero still tried.  He had tried so very hard to be good by hunting to provide coin from pelts and meat upon his family’s table.  All for his baby sister while helping his older brother keep their drunken abusive father in check.  


Also Cicero knew from such an experience that surprises unlike the ones from Beatriz were for the most part unpleasant.  Everything took work and failure could certainly result in despair and death.  Just like how things did not work out for his father but at least now Cicero was here and alive.  He was for the moment happy with just kissing Beatriz and being a part of a new family.  His older brother, Ramiro was better suited to be a father to their baby sister anyways.  


Cicero tried not to think about them or his life before the Dark Brotherhood.  However in moments of calm such as now his older brother’s painful last words haunted him.


“You… he’s dead Cicero.  First Mother and now Father?  As if what you did to her wasn’t-”


“He struck her for laughing!  Not me, HER!  And he was going to hit her again!“  


“Still how could you!”


“I promised!  I promised Mother to keep her safe from harm!”


“Tell him to leave Ramiro!  I told you he is unfit to be around Tullia.  I told you!” Peronella his brother's new wife snipped and looked upon him with utter discust.


Ramiro signed wearily, "You are right Nelly, of course."


Cicero tried to protest, “But brother-“


“I'm sorry Cicero but you must go and never come back.”


When he moved to give his wailing sister one last hug, Peronella snatched her up shrieking, "Leave!  Leave now or I'll summon the guards you filthy murderer!"


"Please just go brother.  We'll take care of her now," Ramiro pleaded as his wife tried to calm Tullia.


"Cic-Cic want Cic," the two year old girl hiccuped between sobs.


Cicero let out a small whimper against Beatriz's lips.  The wails from his baby sister rang in his mind now as they did in his ears then.  The stinging blush which had started upon his pale cheeks spread over his entire face.  Mortified at the loss of control over his emotions the urge to flee from the room rose up swiftly in him again.  


...


The moment Beatriz felt the Messenger’s lips still, worry bubbled in her stomach.  It felt as if he was fading away as the fire inside of him was dying down.  When he started shaking, gave a small sad sound and tried to pull back she tightened her grip upon the front of his robes.  


“Forgive me Beatriz, I should-“


“Stay,” she whispered and heard him suck in a ragged breath.  She listened as he kept taking one more after another.  Each one seemed to give him some strength.  Yet between upon exhales he still gave a small sound of pain.  As she tried to think of a way to comfort him Beatriz insisted, “P-p-p-please stay.  Don’t la-leave just yet.”


“Really?  You really want me to stay?  To not go?  But if only you-”


“Yes,” she interrupted and pulled him closer.  Resting her cheek and hand upon his chest the hammering of his heart boomed in her ear.


Hugging her about the shoulders he struggled with something and confessed, “But I ruin everything.  I’m a terrible-”


“Sta-stop it!  D-d-don’t even sssay that!” Beatriz winced at the hardness in her tone.  Yet she could not stand him to continue, his self-loathing was so terribly clear.  Shyly she reached to stroke his face and ask him why he would even think that but at his throat she felt the cut.  


“Oh n-no! I … I hur-hurt you!”  She moved to fetch him a healing potion.  He clung tightly to her hand as she pulled him along.  “S-sorry um…”  


“It’s just a scratch.  I’ve been cut worse before,” he sniffed but took the vial offered.  “Still, I thank you.”  


After a time and hearing him set it down empty Beatriz wrapped her arms about his waist.  Pulling him close again, she smiled.  When he snuggled his face into her neck with a sigh it grew.  At the hot tears she felt next it faded.  Leaving her to hold onto him only tighter and worry over what was bothering him.


“You must think I’m a fool.”  He pulled back just enough to press his forehead against hers and sniff wetly.


“F-f-fools d-don’t cry.  They laugh sssilly,” she weakly joked.  


He snorted and did that funny humming chuckle again then teased, “Oh I’ll make you pay for that.”  


“Wa-why?  Whe-when la-laughter tastes better than pa-potion.  It's all-always there to help ease pa-pain, d-don't you know?”  


"I can think of at least one thing that tastes and feels far-far better."


"Oh? Wah-what?"


His lips coaxing hers to part but this time more was his answer.  She felt a deep rumbling groan as her fingers checked then teased over the healed cut at his throat.  Squirming in his arms she felt him slip deeper and demand more.  Sucking back just as hard and eager she pressed closer as he moaned happily back.  He felt and even tasted so very good.   Trembling, Beatriz savored the sweet and spiciness to his kisses.  At least until the apprehension of their Mistress possibly finding them finally set in.


"W-what if-"


"I don't care.  Mistress said I should only try not to be seen by you.  It’s dark now is it not?"  His muffled yet playful words had caused something low and deep in her stomach to flip-flop about.  His hands sliding to hips to cup her bottom set it wild.  At her shocked gasp into his mouth he jerked them back to her hips.  He even went so far to break the kiss to squeak, "Um Sorry! I-oh!  Oh my!  You’re just as bad!"


Letting him know what he had done was more than welcome, she had settled for action rather than struggle with words.  Quickly she ran her hands down his chest, sides and promptly squeezed his ass right back.  “Shhh or sh-she wa-will hear us,” Beatriz giggled, grasped her hands about his waist to pull him close and kissed him again before he could get any louder.  


"You're so... unexpected... but... I like that!  I really do," he mumbled out between soft and slow pecks.  Pulling her down to sit in his lap on the closest chair they could find.  He tucked an arm under her primly closed knees as his other hugged along her back to keep her upon it.  


Beatriz relaxed when he kept his hands where they were at.  Besides what happened earlier this boy seemed respectful and in no rush to take things too far.  Instead he worked a trail of small light kisses along her jaw to her ear.  When he started to nibble upon it Beatriz whimpered at finding out how very sensitive they were.  How good it felt till she remembered he had yet to get to and puzzle over the tiny point to it.  


"Mmm like that eh?"


She did but nervously started to squirm and when that did not work she spoke up. "Kah-kiss me, again."


She would have asked but always struggled over pronouncing the word please or any word that started with that particular letter the most.  His soft chuckle tickled her ear and she swore she could feel him grinning as he whispered, "If that is your wish... then I'll oblige."


His voice.  His taste.  Sweet divines, help me.  I want him forever and always.


Or so she naively thought and let loose another nervous yet happy laugh.  One he joined in on until he did as he was told.  His gasps echoing hers as their hands once again started to wander.  Mostly to dive in one another's hair or stroke tenderly a cheek, chin or ear.


...


The more time passed, the more Cicero's fingers tingled the very thought slipping lower.  For now his right hand had moved from her knees to massage her left shoulder as his other teasing up and down her back.  Holding his breath he debated over whether or not to dare brush his palm lightly over the rise of her modest breast.  When she broke the kiss only to moan and catch her breath, Cicero with a sigh settled for keeping it where it was.  His greater wish was to see her face, to watch carefully and know the moment he was taking it too far so he could stop.  


The opening of the room's door suddenly made the wish moot.  In their Mistress’s eyes, he had indeed taken it too far.  The dally with the Listener's Apprentice was coming to an end.  And the Listener for the Dark Brotherhood was not in the least bit amused from the sounds of things.  


Actually it was the lack thereof for she made none, at least at first.  Probably in utter shock over how Cicero did not bother to flinch but instead stubbornly refused to stop what he was doing to her apprentice.  Reasoning he was going to probably be killed for this, Cicero just simply closed his eyes tighter, stole one more kiss from Beatriz and awaited hopefully a swift death.


His dearest Beatriz however had other plans.  She sprang up and out of his lap moments later as if he just cast a flame cloak spell.  Shielding her face too from the bright light that spilled in from the hallway she scrambled to get between them and promptly spilled her guts.  Surprisingly and fortunately she did not stammer much.  


"M-mistress!  I made him do it!  I swear!  P-p-please don't pun-punish him!  I blew out the candles, sa-pa-prised him, p-put a knife to his throat.  Told him to-to explain himself, he said he was your m-messenger and-"


"That is enough Beatriz.   Yet from the look of things he did not appear upon my arrival terribly put out by your demand."  The Listener's voice was utterly calm and collected as Cicero jumped to stand.  Her hands folded behind her back as she slowly made her way around the two of them.


Cicero felt terrible as he heard Beatriz start to cry but dared not to look up.  He only risked taking her hand as it bumped his.  And he wanted to smile in bittersweet joy when she squeezed it back and struggled to collect herself.


"D-don't pun-pun-p-punish him!  M-mis-misss-tress p-please."  


She kept on speaking as the Listener just remained silent as the Night Mother to the rest of her children.  Every word she uttered next was choked out.  Cicero thought it must have only brought Beatriz more pain and embarrassment.  Yet she would not stop.  


And it was all done for him, the lowliest of assassins, brought into the fold for killing his drunken father.  Who raged and understandably went mad at what his middle son had done.  But Cicero had to do it.  He always did what he was told and for mother always.  He had to save his dearest sister, especially since his mother told him that everything would be all right.  So as told he cut her out.  


“Good boy Cicero.  My good boy.  You did the right thing.  I’m so proud of you.  So very-very proud of… my brave boy!  She’s so…”


“Mother?  Mother no!  No!  You said-you said everything would be... Oh Mother!  No please!  NO! Don't go!”


Pushing the painful memories of his mother’s last words and the anguish came next; Cicero finally dared to meet the Listeners eyes.  Scowling and tightening his grip upon her apprentice’s hand he whispered, "Please no more, sweetest Beatriz.  Wipe away those tears for I think our Mistress has listened enough and understands perfectly.  I thank you but trouble yourself no further upon me, for I do not deserve it."


But Beatriz would not listen.  She only tried again and sobbed harder as her Mistress slowly pried her fingers loose from his.  All the while she shushed softly and gently then pulled her apprentice away to the kitchen.


Cicero could not even bear to look now and see the pain which probably contorted Beatriz’s flushed wet face.  Instead he kept his head low.  Did not even need to be told to remain and stood right there not moving one inch as the door closed behind them.  The darkness enfolded around him once again.  Only this time it gave no comfort.  For this time he was now alone.

 csphire.deviantart.com/art/The… <--Chapter Two 

Chapter Four --> csphire.deviantart.com/art/The…



Please let me know via note of any unclear points, transitions problems from flash backs, run-on sentences (yes like this one) and typos in general.

Who is Beatriz? 
Beth future Listener to the Dark Brotherhood and Dovahkiin who's story will continue on in 
Death and Madness -->  csphire.deviantart.com/art/Dea…

Huh? What! 
As she crossed the border into Skyrim with her father, he suggested out of caution she change her name. 

I'm confused...
This story takes place well before Helgen when Beth and Cicero were teenagers.

I must profess my deepest thanks to Heiwako :iconheiwako: for feedback on this chapter but also suggesting the name of Beatriz to help further support why Beth and Cicero unknowingly reunite in Skyrim. :)

Cover art by my dearest friend :iconmakiloomis: Makiloomis! makiloomis.deviantart.com/art/… Be sure to check out her other artwork and give her lots and lots of love! <3

Cicero and other related Elder Scrolls stories, characters and games is Bethsesda's
Beth aka Beatriz and Story is mine. ;)
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.


Games > Elder Scroll Series > Pre Skyrim
Pairings: Cicero / Future Dragonborn - Listener
Location:  Bravil 188 4E (well before events at Helgen in 4E 201)


Story Status: Complete!
(All Chapters 1 - 6 posted)


Summary:  Tasked with delivering an important message to the Listener Alisanne Dupre in Bravil, a young and cocky Cicero let's curiosity get the best of him.  The Listener's stammering and seemingly meek apprentice Beatriz, he soon learns is but a year his junior.  She is also an "innocent" and not apart of the Dark Brotherhood.  At least not yet according to Alisanne and even though Cicero is ordered, during his short stay to help protect yet keep his distance from her apprentice, he cannot help but bend the rules.  To not just find out why Beatriz holds the Night Mother's interest but his as well.


~.~.~
~.~
.


Warning:  Again I choked up a little during writing this chapter.  So you may need a tissue too.


The waiting and wondering what was going to happen next was the worst part.  Cicero kept his eyes to the floor in shame.  It festered inside of him over what happened.  Mentally he berated himself to pass the time.  All the while he absently wiggled his toes inside his beat up, simple black, leather boots.  They just started to hurt when the Listener returned alone.  Only then did he cautiously meet her jaded eyes.  Wanting to ask if Beatriz was feeling better but what he saw silenced him.


“You have greatly disappointed me and given what we do…” she let the chilling warning remain unspoken.  To let his imagination go wild and ponder over just how stupid he was to think he could get away with even bending the rules.  


“Come,” the Listener turned away and led them back to her office.  As they made their way up she explained, “I sent Beatriz home.  You will stay away from her and may only see her by my say so.  You will still be expected to protect her but as needed only.  Do you fully understand now?”


“Yes Mistress,” Cicero meekly promised.  A part of him wanted to ask for how long but thought better of it.  Instead he took comfort that the Listener was at least permitting him to lend aid to Beatriz like any Brother or Sister.  For what reason again he wanted to ask but dared not press his luck.


“Good,” She sighed out, sat down took out another sheet of parchment and started writing.  Absently she rubbed at her wrinkled brow as she scratched away with the quill.  Since Cicero was not told to sit down he remained standing respectfully and ignored his aching feet.  It was not until Mistress Dupre sealed the new letter with wax, collected the first did she speak to him again.


“Now take these both to Rasha.  The newest one outlines to your Speaker the… let’s call it punishment over what has happened today.  Oh but do not look so scared Cicero.”  Mistress Dupre muttered in frustration then added, “The Night Mother likes you for some dammed reason.”  Her face screwed up as if she did not want to say what came next.  “She wants you to know she admires your,” the Listener let out a growl then continued, “dedication.  In time you will serve her even more closely.  Help exert her will and uphold her ways.  But know this Cicero, that when that time comes all your foolishness will and must come to an end.”


As a future Listener perhaps?  Humm… no wonder Mistress is not happy.  Not happy at all.


He speculated and liked that theory very much.  Giving a short and serious nod Cicero inquired, “Is there anything else, Mistress?”


“Just one more thing who was Didiah?”


A shiver ran through him as his heart clenched at the name.  Feeling clammy and a little ill as the images of what he had done bombarded him.  The feel of reaching in to pull life from death, one sacrificing scream gave way to weak and confused cries.  Weaving he braced himself up by holding to the back of the seat he took earlier.  Numbly he worked out, “Um… Why?  Why do you want to know of her?”


The Listener leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms and offered evenly, “Our Unholy Matron mentioned her.”


“Oh?”  Cicero blanched and shivered as the Listener noticed.  Thankfully she did not press and just waited.  Looking about he tried to remain calm.  


“She… she was my mother,” he managed to get out.  And then, in the quietest of voices he told the Listener everything.  To give her an idea on how wonderful it was to have a family and especially a mother again.  


“My sister would not come into this world.  My family were simple farmers, too poor for a midwife.  Too far away from town for any healer to come and my… narrow minded and ignorant Father never allowed any of us to learn magic.  Selfless, gentle and sweet my… my dearest mother told me to not let the child die.  There was so much blood but well… after swaddling my new sister I tried to help my mother next.  But it was of no use.  So I did what I could to make her presentable for when father and brother returned.  Cleaned everything up, they were still displeased.”  Cicero paused to give a pained and weak smile.  “But I did as I was told.  What my mother wanted and so my sister did not die.”


With a pained look Mistress Dupre gently asked, “How... how old where you?”


“Almost thirteen Mistress, my sister was most unexpected.  Mother too old really to be having more but she was so very happy about it.  Even in the end before... before leaving she held her.  Then Father did not take Mother’s death well at all.  No, not at all…”  Trailing off Cicero could not hold the facade of cheer anymore.  His face pinched in pain as he forced himself to continue.  


“He was never happy after what I had to do.  He would get drunk at times and hurt me for it.  Oh!  But I don’t blame him for that.  I don’t!  But when he tried to hurt my dearest sister I… well I promised my mother.”  Cicero swallowed hard and it took everything in him not to cry.  “I vowed to never let my sister come to harm!  He tried to but I stopped him.  I may have gone too far.  I didn’t mean to and well… at least in the end one must look at it this way, he will never hurt her… ever.”  


He took a few breaths and thought back to how good it felt being held by Beatriz in the dark.  How she told him to not go but stay.  True she did not know any of this but someday he promised himself to tell her and prayed she would understand.  It felt good to let it out in a strange way even now, to the Listener.  


Regaining control Cicero felt a small smile return and finished with, “My brother Ramiro disagreed upon how I handled the problem,” he paused, his face twisted in rage and he spat.  “But then his new wife… Petronella did not help!  Dammed Nelly!  Went so far to tell him I should never ever return!  To never ever see my dearest sister Tullia again!”  Sucking in a breath then letting it out Cicero stuffed away the anger once again.  Cheerfully he next reassured, “Oh but that is then and this is now.  They take care of her now you see?  Since I am here and obviously cannot.  But all is well because I have a new family and hope to serve and keep you all so very well as if you were my mother or sister.”


With a shaking hand slipping over her mouth from under it  Mistress Dupre whispered, “That… that explains everything.  Why she has chosen you.”  Dropping her hand next, she snapped out of the dazed expression she was wearing and in a soft tone ordered, “You’re dismissed.  And please, stay safe Cicero.”


Cicero looked her over in confusion at her words.  Noticing the shadows under his Mistress's eyes curbed his excitement over how she had just said he was chosen by the Night Mother.  Genuinely concerned, he hesitated from leaving and worked up the courage to say, “Listener?  Are you not feeling well?  Is there anything that you need?  Anything I may fetch or do for you?”


Mistress Dupre gave a little laugh.  Cicero heard the force and nervousness in it as her thumbs circled one another.  He was pretty certain she was talking to the Night Mother when she mumbled, “My even now he does it!  A good match already too if...”  Finally meeting his eyes she answered, “No I’m sure everything will be fine.  Once this matter with the dealers is finished and we can reestablish what we have lost recently, I will sleep easier.  Thank you Cicero.”


He nodded and moved to leave but paused once again.  “I have no right to request anything of you but if I may...”


Turning away from him and trying to collect herself, she gave a thick and stuffy chuckle.  “Given that sting my little bee has put upon your neck, I’m feeling generous. Ask.”


“I was wondering if any punishments that you would deem to befall Beatriz over what happened, I ask you give to me instead, please.”


“No need, no punishment.”  Reaching the small window and looking out it she ordered, “Now go.”


“But Mistress, there is just one more thing you should know of.”


Straightening her spine and turning back to him she cocked a brow at him but still grinned and shook her head slowly.  “You’re really starting to push your luck again boy.  It’s best you begin your journey back to Cheydinhal.”


Stepping forward Cicero got to the point.  “Go I shall but I believe you would wish to know why Beatriz put that mark there.”


“Oh besides you spying on her from the shadows?”


Cicero blushed, rubbed at his throat and pointed out, “Well yes there was that but actually she thought I was sent by someone to hurt her or do maybe more.  Someone dressed as I.  A woman, a Nord and by what name she did not say but did say it was about two weeks ago.”


The Listener said nothing.  Did not move or bat an eye.  The humor only drained from them to nothing.  Impenetrable as the Void and prudently, Cicero took a few cautious steps back.  At one point she looked about to blow.  Instead his Mistress came back from wherever her mind went but only a little.  Her voice was too detached and terribly collected.  It was as if the Night Mother herself stood before him.


“Anything else, Cicero?”


“No, I’ve told you all that I know.”  


Tilting her head to the side and listening, Mistress Dupre dutifully repeated the orders given to her by the Night Mother, “Go to the Lady Luck Statue and retrieve our sister Astrid.  Tell her to return here with you.”


"Astrid! Astrid from the Bruma Sanctuary?"


"Yes, is there a problem?"


"Problem? No. No problem just..." Cicero trailed off to swallow hard. Opening the door he thought to ask, “What shall I do if our Sister Astrid refuses to cooperate? I ask only because she may not listen to me. Well because ah... her and I did not exactly part on the best of terms.” He gave a nervous laugh and hoped he would not have to explain what happened.


Having a bit of fun with a brother or sister was hardly against the rules. Cicero simply had no desire to even think about the mortifying fact that he was so besotted with his very first lover he happily indulged her every whim. He ignored the worrisome fact she refused to let him kiss or snuggle her. He was content to take what he could get and what she offered. He naively thought it would only be a matter of time before she would be tender with him. Yet after the deed was done, Astrid with a bored yawn tossed him aside after his understandably brief starting efforts. The tryst had lasted only weeks still she broke his heart, he in turn called her some pretty ugly names and the entire embarrassing matter was something Cicero did not wish to discuss with anyone.


Thankfully Mistress Dupre did not ask for details but her smile was nonetheless chilling. "If she will not obey the Night Mother's order, you must dispose of her but at your leisure. Your first priority is to kill the bard and to always keep my apprentice safe, is that understood?”


Cicero paled but nodded as he rushed to obey the Listener's orders.

csphire.deviantart.com/art/The… <--Chapter Three

Chapter Five-->csphire.deviantart.com/art/The…

11/24/2014 update: At the end of this chapter I added a new twist to the story along with adding tid bits here and there in some of the other chapters to reflect this change. I know Cicero and Astrid are a VERY unlikely pairing but I chuck it up they were both young, horny and/or misguided. I've wrestled with the idea for a long time and decided I just can't let go of it. I love how this is a possible explanation as to why Cicero often calls Astrid a "Harlot" along with a few choice other names.

Is it healthy or mature of Cicero to call Astrid a harlot? Nope.
Was it healthy or mature of Astrid to not be completely honest about what she wanted from Cicero? Nope.
Is Cicero and Beth or any of the characters in this story along with Death and Madness going to be politically and morally correct one hundred percent of the time? Hell nope, that would be boring. People screw up, homicidal assassins espiecally.

Also I know in his journals he states he was the only survivor but at that time he could have just been under that impression and until he crossed paths with other survivors. For convenience I guess, in my headcanon Cicero, Astrid and Beatriz were all originally from Bruma.

Please let me know via note of any unclear points, transitions problems from flashbacks, run-on sentences (yes like this one) and typos in general.

Who is Beatriz?
Beth future Listener to the Dark Brotherhood and Dovahkiin who's story will continue on in
Death and Madness -->  csphire.deviantart.com/art/Dea…


Huh? What!
As she crossed the border into Skyrim it was suggested out of caution she change her name.


I'm confused...
This story takes place well before Helgen when Beth and Cicero were teenagers.


I must profess my deepest thanks to Heiwako :iconheiwako: for feedback on this chapter but also suggesting the name of Beatriz to help further support why Beth and Cicero unknowingly reunite in Skyrim. :)


Cover art by my dearest friend :iconmakiloomis: Makiloomis! makiloomis.deviantart.com/art/… Be sure to check out her other artwork and give her lots and lots of love! <3


Cicero and other related Elder Scrolls stories, characters and games is Bethsesda's
Beth aka Beatriz and Story is mine. ;)

Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

150 000 BCE .- The Protheans are the sole space-faring (Tier 1 but they can't create worlds) species on the Milky Way and they begin to establish a galaxy-wide civilization using technology left behind by those who came before them. Their technology was entirely based on Element Zero and the mass effect phenomenon.

120 000 BCE .- The Protheans have colonized a great part of the Milky way galaxy, using the Mass Relays and placing the leaders and the heart of their civilization on the gigantic, mysterious artifact known as The Citadel. The reapers invade the milky way, making a surprise attack on the citadel, thus fracturing the whole Prothean system.

119 500 BCE .- Most of the Prothean presence on the galaxy has been either destroyed or indoctrinated by the Reapers. Prothean scientist on planet Ilos work secretly on a way to prevent the reapers from ever coming back. A single colony ship escaped to the outer rims of the galaxy in hopes of finding a suitable planet to colonize after the reapers left the galaxy, with the protheans on board on stasis. The Prothean A.I. in charge of the colony ship, having found no suitable planet to colonize and running low on energy, has deactivated all prothean stasis chambers, except for one, making the ship float derelict through space, headed for the outer rims.

119 273 BCE .- The A.I. scans detects a nearby planet with suitable atmosphere, currently colonized by unknown sentient life forms (Tier 6 Forerunners). The ship crash-lands and the A.I. and the lone surviving prothean are interviewed by the leaders of the forerunner civilization. The forerunners then learn about the reapers, and their destruction cycle every 50 000 years. The forerunner technology quickly advances as the mysteries of the Prothean technology are gifted to them. They adopt the "mantle" philosophy and then create the story of the Tier 0 Precursors, and how in the past they came from outer-space gifting the forerunners with their technology and placing them in charge of the protection of all life in the galaxy.

110 000 BCE .- Forerunner achieve Tier 3 technology but are unable to move forward since there is little to none Element Zero present in their solar system and without it or a Mass Relay, they cannot colonize other systems. They then focus their efforts on improving their technology without the use of Element Zero.

113 000 BCE .- Element Zero technology is long forgotten with the discovery of slipspace drives for faster-than-light travels. This makes the forerunners Tier 2. The forerunners move to the inner galaxy carefully and begin colonizing it. When they come across their first Mass Relays, they make the civilian population make use of these relays and the Slipspace drives are retired from the general public, slipspace is just secretly placed on Military ships. This with the intention of hiding the secret of slipspace from the vanguard the reapers may have left behind.

110 231 BCE .- Forerunners achieve Tier 1. They have deliberately placed a puppet government on the citadel, most of their population believes its the real one, while in fact the real leaders behind the Forerunner government reside in their now isolated and heavily fortified home system. Secretly, shield worlds are built and an arms race focusing on supra-luminal ships and dreadnoughts begins. The forerunners were bracing themselves for war against the reapers. With the prothean database they had in possession, they already knew the reapers were coming from the Citadel, they would try and indoctrinate them, and they expected the forerunners to rely heavily on the relays, they were ships with no ground forces to worry about, and they did not know the secret of Slipspace, giving the forerunners a tactical advantage over the enemy. Massive energy stationary cannons were placed far from the citadel, but pointing at it.

109 989 BCE .- The keepers are signaled by the vanguard and the citadel relay activates. The Forerunner-Reaper war begins.

The Forerunner-Reaper war (109 989 BCE -109 895 BCE) .-

The sheer numbers of the Reapers were immeasurable, but as they destroyed the population of the citadel and its poor defense fleet (decoy ships), the secret forerunner Energy Canons begun decimating their fleet. Forerunner populations begun to be evacuated to the Shield Worlds. The forerunners place a large fleet of Super-Dreadnoughts on Citadel space. The fleet arrives through the mass relay, and the Reapers fight and destroy it. The reapers emerge victorious from the battle of the Citadel, but they suffered heavy casualties.

The reapers now firmly believed they had destroyed an important part of the forerunner

military, they believed that they had beheaded the forerunner civilization when they killed the puppet government and locked the mass relays so only they could use them, and more importantly, they did not know the secret of slipspace drives and communications, the forerunners' plan was going smoothly. Now the forerunners started the second phase of their plan.

Not expecting any kind of serious threat from the forerunners, the reapers divided their fleet to destroy the remaining forerunners as soon as possible. Using their slipspace drives to their advantage, the forerunner navy systematically made surprise attacks on the reapers and destroyed them. On 139 895 BCE approx., the war ended, with the Forerunners emerging victorious.

109 700 BCE .- The forerunners fully recuperate from the war, but still fearing any kind of Reaper threat, they still make slipspace technology classified military only technology. Civilians use element zero ships. They create specialized facilities to study reaper technology and to crack the secret behind the Mass Relays.

100 000 BCE .- A forerunner explore team assigned on the planet G617 g1, encounter the parasitic organism they later came to call "The Flood." The Forerunner-Flood war begins.

The Forerunner-Flood war (100 000-99 723 BCE) .-

Initially, the Forerunners severely underestimated the potential threat this new life form posed, and used tactics more suited to disease outbreak than actual warfare. By the time the infection had begun to spread, the Flood had become a much deadlier and more intelligent foe. The Flood used unarmed civilian assets to penetrate planetary defense groups, first striking at the Forerunner-held planet of LP 656-38 e, bypassing the Forerunner Orbital Fleet, and infesting the planet below. They soon moved to similarly infest the planet DM-3-1123b. The sheer numbers of Flood forms on the planets overcame Forerunner ground forces. As the forerunner systems connected through the Mass Relay network succumbed to the parasite the Forerunner's armada was ordered to immediately commence full planetary bombardment on infested worlds, although at a great cost - many Forerunners were unable to be evacuated before bombardment commenced, leaving the Forerunner military with shallow victories against the Flood. In events where the naval garrisons were unable to commence bombardment, major Forerunner population centers appeared to activate localized weapons of mass destruction, effectively committing mass suicide, but stopping the growing infestation. Also, several Mass Relays were destroyed by the forerunners to prevent further infection but the flood kept spreading when they infested military ships with Slipspace drives.

The Forerunners realized that ordinary naval tactics were unable to stem the growing tide of the Flood, and decided to pin their hopes of defeating the Flood on super-weaponry. While the Forerunners initially deployed the Sentinel robotic drones to fight against and contain the Flood, almost immediately afterward, the Forerunner Fleet Command contemplated "Premature stellar collapse": using naval battle groups to destroy planetary star systems' primary stars in supernova that would engulf the planetary systems and prevent any possibility of Flood infection.

As the Relay Network systems fell, the forerunners built the Maginot Sphere, a giant energy shield that protected the forerunner's home system, and they established the imaginary Maginot Line, that marked the space that could be protected from the flood.

Hundreds of other unsuccessful methods were attempted by the Forerunners to overcome the Flood, and all possibilities were exhausted as a final countermeasure came into mind for the Forerunners: the creation and activation of the Halo Project, destroying all sentient life in the galaxy, depriving the Flood of all biomass that they could consume, thus halting them. However, Didact, a high-ranking military leader, adamantly refused to activate the Halos, saying that it would overturn the Forerunners' pledge to preserve all life in the galaxy.

The Flood were growing in number, and were forming a centralized sentient intelligence to coordinate their efforts; Gravemind, and their "raw computing power" began to overrun the last Forerunner naval countermeasures; a Contender-class artificial intelligence, Mendicant Bias, was crafted by the Forerunners to directly attack the Gravemind forms and any surrounding Flood biomass in an effort to decapitate Flood consciousness.

The ark was finally constructed just outside the milky way galaxy, and the construction of the seven Halos begun on it, all while the forerunner known as The Librarian, ventured beyond the Maginot Line to index and document sentient species across the galaxy, and send them to the ark, where they would be safe of flood infection and of the pulse of the Halo array once it was finished.

The Gravemind convinced Mendicant Bias to join the flood cause, and the flood launched a full scale attack on the Maginot Sphere. With no time to evacuate to the ark o the Shield Worlds built as refuges from the Array, Didact activated the Halos on 99 723 BCE, destroying the flood along with along with all sentient life on the galaxy, no forerunners survived. Except for a few exception and due to its secrecy, the war left the galaxy quite devoid of any slipspace ships any other species could come across.

99 700 BCE .- With the threat of the flood eradicated, automated forerunner ships begun transporting the species saved in the ark to their homeworlds, with humans left as the direct descendants and only possible reclaimers of the forerunner technology.

Among the species saved by the Librarian are: Sangheili, San 'Syuum, Yanme'e, Unggoy, Kig-Yar, Jiralhanae, Turians, Krogans, Salarians, Rachni, Vorcha, Quarians, Asari, Drell, Elcor and Humans.

2200-2100 BCE.- The San 'Syuum enter a World-Wide civil war because two San 'Syuum factions, could not decide wether to enter a long abandoned Forerunner Dreadnought on their planet or leave it alone due to their religion. The conflict ended when the Reformist left the planet on the Dreadnought around 2100 BCE.

1900 BCE.- Tuchanka, the krogan homeworld, enters the nuclear age. In a global conflict, weapons of mass destruction are released, triggering a nuclear winter. In the resulting devastation, krogan society devolves into a collection of warring clans.

1800 BCE.- A supernova propels the Mu Relay, the only point of access to the remote Pangaea Expanse, out of position. Concealed somewhere in the dense nebula formed by the supernova, the relay's position is effectively lost for centuries. Later, the rachni rediscover the relay.

938 BCE.- The San 'Syuum enter the Sangheili system searching for forerunner relics to study, and the Sangheili believe that tampering with forerunner tech was heresy, so the Sangheili - San 'Syuum war begins. The Sangheili won easily on ground encounters but the San 'Syuum had an extreme advantage in space battles due to their dreadnought.

852 BCE.- The Sangheili-San 'Syuum war ends when the two races signed a treaty known as the Writ of Union to form the early Covenant, which defined the two races positions: the San 'Shyuum would act as the head religious leaders, studying the Forerunners' technology and seek out the Halos, while the Sangheili would serve as their protectors, using weapons and technology developed by the San 'Shyuum. The Dreadnought was decommissioned and made the center point and power source of High Charity, a mobile planetoid which would serve as the capital of the Covenant.

784 BCE.- The lekgolo join the Covenant.

580 BCE.- The Asari (Tier 2 Element Zero based technology) discover the mass relays and the citadel.

520 BCE .- The Salarians make contact with the Asari

500 BCE .- The Asari and the Salarians form the Citadel Council at the Citadel construct and establish it as the center of the galactic community.

200 Bce .- The Council grants the volus the honor of being the first non-Council species with an embassy at the Citadel, rather than a Council seat.

First contact is made with the batarians. They are granted an embassy a century later. The asari discover the elcor home system and help the elcor locate and activate their nearest mass relay. "Within one elcor lifetime" they establish a regular trade route to the Citadel and are granted an embassy.

First contact is made with the hanar and the quarians. Both races are later granted embassies.

The Rachni Wars (1 - 300 CE) .-

The rachni, a species of highly intelligent hive-minded insects, are discovered when a Citadel expedition opens a dormant mass relay leading to their star systems. The rachni prove to be hostile and begin a war with the rest of the galaxy. Negotiation with the rachni queens is impossible because they cannot be contacted in their underground nests on the toxic rachni worlds.

On 80 CE The salarians make first contact with and uplift the primitive krogan, manipulating them into acting as soldiers for the Citadel Council. The krogan prove able to survive the harsh environments of the rachni worlds and pursue the rachni into their nests, systematically eradicating queens and eggs.

On 300 CE The rachni are declared extinct. In gratitude for their aid during the Rachni Wars, the Council rewards the krogan a new homeworld. Free of the harsh environment of Tuchanka, the krogan population explodes.

The Krogan Rebellions (700 - 800 CE) .-

Krogan warlords leverage veterans of the Rachni Wars to annex territory from other races in Citadel space. Eventually the Council demands withdrawal from the asari colony of Lusia, but the krogan refuse. A preemptive strike is made on krogan infrastructures by the Spectres. The Krogan Rebellions begin. The Citadel Council makes first contact with the turians. In response to the threat posed by the krogan, they declare war. After the krogan devastate turian colonies with weapons of mass destruction, the turians respond with a salarian-engineered bio-weapon known as the genophage. The krogan population starts its decline.

The turians accept the volus as a client race within the Turian Hierarchy.

900 CE.- The turians are granted a seat on the Citadel Council in recognition for their service in the Krogan Rebellions.

The Geth War (1895 CE).-

The geth, machines created by the quarians as a source of cheap labor, become self-aware. Fearing a geth uprising, the quarians begin dismantling them. The geth revolt against their quarian masters and, in the resulting war, systematically drive the quarians from their own worlds. The surviving quarians are reduced to living as spacefaring nomads aboard the Migrant Fleet. Contrary to expectations, the geth do not venture outside the former quarian systems into wider Citadel space, instead isolating themselves from the rest of the galaxy behind the Perseus Veil. As punishment for creating the geth, the Citadel Council closes the quarian embassy on the Citadel.

2000 CE .- The drell make first contact with the hanar around this time. With their homeworld Rakhana severely depleted and no spaceflight capability, the drell were poised for a massive population crash by 2025 CE. Agreeing to help, the hanar mount a large-scale rescue operation and evacuate approximately 375,000 drell to their own homeworld, Kahje, over the following decade. The remaining 11 billion drell on Rakhana gradually perish, warring over the last reserves of food and water.

From this point on, Humanity could either take the Mass Effect story path and find Long forgotten Element Zero technology on Mars, but I think it would be a little complicated to make humanity first contact the citadel rather than the covenant, besides how would yo place your awesome Spartan IIs on your story? or you can choose to make humanity follow the Halo story like I did next, but in order to make it fit with the rest of the Mass effect timeline, I would recommend to add 400+ years to the time when the Mass effect story happens (from 2183 to 2583 for example ), and perhaps try what I suggest next at year 2360.


2160-2200 .- This period in human history was marked by a series of brutal conflicts between various governments and factions in our Solar System. Conflicts of particular historical importance included the Jovian Moons Campaign, The Rain Forest Wars, and a series of clashes on Mars.

As overpopulation and political unrest on Earth increased, a number of new political movements formed. The most noteworthy dissident movements of the period were the "Koslovics" and the "Frieden" movement. The Koslovics—supporters of neo-Communist hardliner Vladimir Koslov—sought a return to the glory days of Communism and the elimination of corporate and capitalist influence, particularly in orbital facilities and offworld colonies.

The Frieden movement was a resurgence of fascism, springing from anti-Koslovic sentiment that had taken root in the Jovian colonies (largely backed by Unified German Republic corporations, frequent targets of Koslovic "workers' crusades"). "Frieden" literally means "peace." In this case, they believed that peace could be achieved only once the "oppressors on Terra Firma" were eliminated.

The Jovian Moons Campaing (March-June 2160).-

The Jovian Moons Campaign began. Jovian secessionist attacks on United Nations Colonial Advisors on the moon Io led to three months of fighting between the Earth military and Jovian "Frieden" forces. Though this was not the first armed conflict in our Solar System, it was easily one of the bloodiest, and is generally considered to be the spark of increased friction and militarization that followed.

The Jovian Moons Campaign escalated tensions, as Earth's national governments-many of which sponsored colonies within the system-began fighting proxy wars off-planet. As these proxy wars continued, tensions on Earth mounted, leading to a number of armed conflicts on Earth itself.

2162.- The Rain Forest Wars: Armed conflict ripped through South America, as Koslovic, Frieden, and UN forces all clashed over ideological differences, sparking additional conflicts off-planet.

2164.- UN-sponsored military forces begin a pattern of massive buildups, culminating in the first real interplanetary war. After the successful Marine deployment on Mars, recruitment drives and propaganda tactics strongly bolster UNSC (UN Space Command) forces. UN forces defeat Koslovic (supporters of rabid Communist hard-liner Vladimir Koslov) and Frieden (a resurgence of fascism) forces on Earth, then begin a systematic and dedicated drive to crush their remnants on the various planets they hold throughout the system. At the conclusion, Frieden and Koslovic forces are defeated, in the face of a massive, unified and very powerful UN military.

2170.- A unified Earth government was formed in the wake of the conflicts of 216. Now, the victors were forced to deal with a less obvious but equally serious threat: overpopulation and a massive military that had no enemy to fight.

In the postwar period there were massive population surges and the overpopulation, coupled with the destruction and famine bred by the Rain Forest Wars, threatened to destabilize the economy.

2291.- A team of researchers, physicists, and mathematicians working in secret developed the Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine, a practical means of propelling spacecraft across vast interstellar distances. This new engine allowed ships to tunnel into "the Slipstream" (also called "Slipspace"). Slipspace is a domain with alternate physical laws, allowing faster-than-light travel without relativistic side-effects. Faster-than-light travel is not instantaneous; "short" jumps routinely take up to two months, and "long" jumps can last six months or more.

2310.- The Earth government unveils the first in a line of colony ships; given conditions on Earth are deteriorating in the face of overpopulation, hitching a ride out to a colony becomes a highly attractive option. Additionally, the Earth government plans to attach military personnel to each colony, to help better utilize the massive (and expensive) standing fleets. Because FTL travel is still fairly new and expensive, colonists and military personnel face a stringent regimen of physical and mental testing. In theory, only the best-qualified citizens and soldiers are allowed to colonize "nearby" worlds. This is the birth of the Inner Colonies; typically Inner Colonials are—later in the timeline—considered the elite, the best and brightest.

In 2360 nothing happened in the actual halo story, I just had the idea that either you could make the UNSC the ones who come in contact with the Citadel races first, or it would be interesting (or lame depending on your point of view) to make a lost Slipspace-free colonial ship to arrive and terraform a planet (Eden Prime?), then with element zero technology found there or/and maybe the aid of Citadel races a new Human faction (Systems Alliance) rises, then after the end of the Human-Covenant war, UNSC-Covie Separatist encounter with the Citadel races (including the Alliance.). You can make another colony ship land and planet Sera (Gears of War) and now you can have 3 of the most awesome games on XBOX 360 ON YOUR FANFIC! ...or not

2360 .- The UNSC Normandy colony ship is launched onto space and due to a malfunction on its designs, its Shaw-Fujiawa engines fails and contact is lost with the ship. This incident was hidden from the public view.


2362 .- The Odyssey is launched. The lead ship in the colony vessels, the Odyssey—laden with troops and terra forming gear—spearheads the colonization of a new world. This sparked the first wave of human expansion beyond the confines of the Solar System.

2390 .- The colonization of the Inner Colonies was fully underway. There were 210 human-occupied worlds in various stages of terraforming, and the population burden across human-controlled space was largely stabilized.


Then the actual Halo canon stories (from the games, books, comics) takes place, and if you don't want to change Halo canon, you can use the now floating in space Master Chief, or the Spartans at the Onyx Shield world as you Halo protagonists aiding Shepard in his quest to stop the reapers that survived the war with the forerunners and with the aid of the collectors, have decided to start once again their Extinction Cycle! OMG!
I've been looking for good Halo-Mass Effect crossovers, and I have only found two I have really, REALLY liked. Sadly one of them, fanfiction.net/s/5786770/1/One_Purpose , seems to have been abandoned. The other one is still work in progress and it is pure win too: fanfiction.net/s/6376514/1/Mass_Effect_New_Origins_V2 .

Most of the rest I have read are not that good. I suck at writing fanfiction, not to mention I prefer to draw. Still I like to read fanfictions, specially good crossovers. Here I humbly present to you what I think could be a potential idea to Merge the Halo and the Mass Effect universes without using some sort of alternate reality plot device (which a good writer could make work, but every noobish attempt at Halo-ME crossovers use this and very poorly).

I took in consideration both the Halo and Mass Effect timelines, and believe me, it was not easy to merge Protheans, Forerunners, Flood and Reapers into a single timeline and at the same time dont make it suck ( if my idea sucks for you and you have any suggestions, please, TELL ME!).

If you feel inspired by this and actually decide to try and make a crossover out of this timeline o at least you are taking part of my idea, don't forget to give me credit, even if it is a tiny 0.02 arial sentence at the end. :)

* The Ilos prothean scientist do modify the keepers like on game canon, but the forerunners reverse this, so that when the reapers invade... well you'll see!



Too lazy to use HTML formatting, if you want my text to look petty then go here: [link]
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

Dear Halo - A Collection of Previously Unread Letters from Various Characters in the Halo Universe

Dear Jorge,

We can't afford the high powered ammo for your chaingun, you'll have to make do with 9mm's.

Sincerely,

UNSC.

---

Dear Rabid Kat Fans,

Get real, she's way out of your league. Also, I am just as impressive.

And I'm not made out of pixels.

Sincerely,

J-Lo.

---

Dear Cortana,

Please don't seizure me.

Sincerely,

Noble Six.

---

Dear AI Allies,

WE'RE meant to be the Spartans, Legendary means YOU get hosed first, not the other way around.

Sincerely,

The Gamers.

---

Dear Dr. Halsey,

OPEN THE @"#!&$'% DOOR!

Sincerely,

Noble Team.

---

Dear Kat,

You've made quite a name for yourself haven't you?

Sincerely,

Disapproving Moa.

---

Dear Covenant Corvette,

Tag! You're it!

Sincerely,

Shortsword Pilot #1

---

Dear Frigate Grafton,

Flying within ten yards of something you plan to shoot with a Mac gun probably wasn't the smartest idea you've ever had.

Sincerely,

So that's why our hull is breached.

---

Dear Auntie Dot AKA Slipspace Rupture Detected,

And we thought Kat talked too much.

Sincerely,

The UNSC Fleet.

---

Dear Covenant Suicide Squads,

Bet you can't frickin' do it again!

Sincerely,

In Great Pain. Also Dead.

---

Dear Focus Rifle,

CC: Plasma Launcher

You suck more than a grunt on the teat.

Sincerely,

The Covenant Infantry.

---

Dear Other Zombie Invasion Survivors,

OMFG THEY'VE LEARNED HOW TO ROLL!

Sincerely,

Completely Screwed.

---

Dear Credit Cap,

Prepare for weeping.

Sincerely,

The H-165 FOM Target Designator

---

Dear Carter,

That was pretty. Do it again.

Oh, wait.

Sincerely,

All I'm Allowed to Do Is Run From Scarabs

---

Dear Noble Six,

You're an A$$.

Sincerely,

Pinned Down by Four Hunters.

---

Dear Noble Six,

They're saving the Scarabs for John.

Sincerely,

Carter.

---

Dear Legendary Hunters,

I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY!

Sincerely,

Noble Six & Co.

---

Dear DMR,

It's not you, it's me.

Sincerely,

Can't get the hang of reticule bloom.

---

Dear Fuel Rod Gun,

When did you get so shmexy?!

Sincerely,

Love at First Sight.

---

Dear Spartan Laser,

LOL!

Sincerely,

Unscathed.

---

Dear Hemorrhage,

I'll give Bungie credit for one thing…

Sincerely,

Accurately Named.

---

Dear Bungie,

Nope, double beat down still works.

Sincerely,

Pummelled.

---

Dear Ghost,

That look painful.

Sincerely,

Armour Lock.

---

Dear Noble Six

Do a barrel roll!

Sincerely,

Sabre Pilot #2

---

Dear Jorge,

Remember how destroying that super carrier meant saving the planet?

Yeah, about that...

Sincerely,

UNSC High Command

---

Dear Everything on the Battlefield

Shoom Shoom Kaboom!

Sincerely,

Rocket 'Hog (AKA Rolling Carriage of Oblivion)

---

Dear Emile

So, does the race to the Autumn count anymore?

Sincerely,

Noble Six.

---

Dear Shotgun,

You're obsolete.

Sincerely,

The Sniper Rifle.

---

Dear Simmons,

Make me a sammich.

Sincerely,

Sarge.

---

Dear Gravity,

You account for nothing.

Sincerely,

Just Fell From Orbit
A collection of previously unread and unseen letters to and from various characters in the Halo Universe. For the first time, gain true insight into the collective minds of these legendary heroes and vile enemies...

Part 2 is coming tomorrow, any future updates depend upon reception.

Part 2: [link]

-DA.
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

Ellie, revisited.


    This is the story: a girl came and went with a train whistle, the galaxy broke, and somewhere between a decaying church and white walls, I fell in love.

    That is a mess. I know it's a mess, and that's really only the story, but that's not the truth. The truth of what happened is one big ball of near nothingness and half forgotten could-be-truths. I don't want to remember. I have to remember.

    This is not a love story. This is a story about a girl with black hair and cracked fingernails and these are words I have taken from her skin, words that haunt me and words that thrill me. But more than anything, these are words for her, the unbreakable shattered girl.

* * * *


    It is May 25th, 5:56 a.m.; I watched sunrise with a pounding heart. The light spilled over the train ahead of me, the 6 a.m. Freight, and I felt that crack in the universe right between the sunlight and the dark, and part of me imagined Apollo pulling the sun over his shoulder. It's in those few seconds that you look at the ground under your feet and you remember the secret agreement you have with the earth. I could feel the gravel through the worn soles of my running shoes.

    I was just about to turn around. The train was just about gone, the sun almost up, and my brain began to shift into full awareness. Out of the corner of my eye, I swear that I saw something coiled inside the morning fog. A flash of black, biting pale skin, and then nothing. I put my headphones back in my ears and ran home. It was a morning I wouldn't bother to remember.

    By 8:05, the morning was full, the last of the sunrise almost over- I watched it from the window of my classroom. The last day of my sophomore year. Our English teacher had written “Have an Excellent Summer” on the whiteboard in slick cursive, and he smiled at me when he handed me my final exam. The paper was

    “You have until nine twenty-five,” Mr. Ramsey said as he sat down. “Go.”

    Then there was the tapping. Pens and pencils hitting the desks, shoes, lips, and the wind pushed against the screen; the window was open. My hair blew over my shoulder.

    I signed the bottom of my long response essay with a steady hand, and I stared it for a while, studying my own name as the ink dried. Josephine Harriot. I didn't dot the i's; I never do. Mr. Ramsey nodded at me when I turned it in, and I was the first one out of the classroom and the first person in the parking lot. There was a heavy sort of silence. I climbed into the bed of my neighbor’s truck and put my headphones back in.

    By the time Carter got out of class, I was almost asleep. He hit his palm against the rusty side and motioned for me to get in. His music was up all the way. It always was, and I thought that fit Carter, because he was silent but he was full of words. He was a quiet paragraph. Something you'd read over and not remember for years later, and then you wish you would have remembered it better. If I were to have a best friend, it would be Carter, because he's quiet and soft and the most human person I'd ever known.

    We didn't talk a whole lot on the way back. He rolled down the windows in his beat up truck and I stuck my hand out, and he light up a cigarette to pass the time. His smoke rolled over to me. I didn't know the band that was playing, but I never did. Carter's music is comfortable; it never prods too deeply into your heart. It's good driving music. The music got mixed with the oncoming wind and my hair, and for a moment I felt as if I were in the eye of a tornado.

    “Do you work tonight?” I asked him when he pulled into his driveway.

    “No.”

    “Walk?”

    “Midnight walk?”

    I smiled and closed his door. “Yeah.”

    I never mean to fall asleep. It happens so easily. I never mean to dream, either, but I don't think that anyone does. They say people can't remember their dreams, not fully, but I think that's wrong, because beginning with that night, I remembered every single one. Those images stood rooted in the base of my skull. I still feel them.

    My sheets were tangled around my ankles when I awoke- I sat tracing the shadows on my mattress for a while and tried to piece together the fragments of my dream.

    There was fog. A morning sky, opening up like the palm of a rose. The clouds were iridescent; they shone and it hurt my eyes, but I didn't look away. I wanted to turn away. Something in the air was hot and wet, like the sidewalk after summer rain, and it lodged itself in my throat. My lungs quivered.

    A flash of black, elongated in the pale sun. It seemed to stretch for miles. I thought I felt it brush against me. I could make out a wisp of porcelain, something doll-like. There was nothing but a mash of colors, black and white, yin and yang, and then there was nothing, only the train. Only the noise.

    But I woke up with my heart racing and a fine layer of sweat over my chest.

    Carter was tapping on my window. The silhouette of his head was cast onto my curtain. I pulled on a fresh shirt and grabbed a water bottle, locked my bedroom door and slipped out my house through the window, leaving it open a crack.

    The air was still. Our town was silent, the calm buzz of the street lights the only noise as we cut down an alley. Carter's arm brushed against mine. In the dull light, the glow from the end of his cigarette looked like the light at the end of a tunnel.

    We walked slowly. Carter's steps were absolutely silent, somehow, quiet amongst the hum of misquotes and burned out porch lights. At night, our town was beautiful, but only just. The sidewalk looked the color of the moon. The usual noise that bumped against the old houses was hushed, replaced with the steady pull of the wind and occasional dog bark. At midnight, our town looked so ordinary.

    As it was right now, the sound that stuck to me was the crackle and sigh of Carter's cigarette. I imagined his ask making a trail behind us. We could always find out way back home.

    We were walking on my usual running path. The grass was pale but not quite dead, and it thinned into just dirt the closer we came to the railroad. Half hidden among the trees and brush, and abandoned church stood white against the night. Our footsteps became the loudest thing around us. I always took comfort in that.

    Carter put his cigarette out under his foot.    

    “Come'n,” he said.

    It was the first thing he'd said all night. I followed him through the broken window in the back. Carter helped me jump through and picked a leaf out of my hair, catching a few strands between his fingers.

    There is not a correct word to describe how Carter looked around the room. His eyes were soft and his lips parted; at peace but with something harsh clinging to his chest. I don't know why Cater loved that church so much, but he really did; he loved it with all his heart. I didn't know it then, but, later, I would come to fall in love with the cracked plaster and the smell of mold and the dusty statues. As it was right then, I let my hand rest on the back of a pew. Carter pulled a bowl from his pocket, packed it, and started smoking, calm and sleepy eyed.

    The smoke made a sort veil over his features. When he offered it to me I took it. A semi-sweet taste filled my mouth, bit into my lungs. After a while we sat down, leaning side by side against the pedestal where a statue of the baby Jesus sat. Our knees touched. Carter's skin was warm, warmer than the early summer night, and I felt the meaning of that grow in area until it filled the room. We shared a cigarette.

    “Happy summer,” Carter mumbled.

    “Happy summer.”

    It was stiflingly quiet after that. Carter started to hum to fill the void. His voice was deep and far away, and I stared at his hands, contrasted sharply against the dirty wood floor.

    And then he stopped; not gradually, but he swallowed the verse on his tongue, turning his head up towards the ceiling.

    “Wha-”

    “Shh. Listen.”

    I did. Above us, the wood creaked and groaned. Dust fell from the railings. Someone was walking upstairs. At first, I tried to tell myself that it was an animal; a raccoon, maybe, that had come in through the broken window. Carter got up and I did the same.  

    Back past the statue of Jesus and the one of Virgin Mary, there was a door that had remained closed for years, and I stood gazing at the line in the dust from where the ajar door had pushed it over. My heart started to climb to my mouth.

    Let's go back. Something I didn't say, but something I really wanted to.

    Carter put his hand on the knob. There was a muted tune coming from the top of the staircase, like some kind of muffled lullaby. I could see the beads of sweat on Carter's arm. The air was warm, and I think I started to choke on it all (the dust, he smoke, the crumbling pews behind me). Carter's palm was slick against the metal. I swear that I heard the two collide– his skin and the doorknob– and there was a burst of energy as the atoms swarmed, angry from the disturbance. It was the kind of moment that hung in the balance of life.

    One turn– a sound like a nuclear bomb– and the tune went silent. Scuttering, then, like one of a small animal.

    “Do you believe in ghosts?” Carter asked.

    This is how Carter communicated; he would ask questions through a series of different scattered ones. In the end, you never really knew what he wanted to ask, but you got the feeling that he got his answer.

    “I don't know. You?”

    We were quiet again for a spell. Then Carter turned the knock all the way. The creak was echoing, slow and dramatic, like something out of a horror show. Carter whispered that they should really oil the knob; I didn't know who he meant by “they”, and I never found out.

    It was I that took the first step. The air around e tasted sweeter, somehow, on the staircase. Like strawberries- that's something that I never forgot. It shoved its way down my throat. I still wake up choking on it. That air trapped me.

    By the time I made it up to the second floor, I was sweating. It was humid and dusty, like that of an attic, and it kind of stuck to you like another skin.

    I thought I had hit a wall, but when I looked down I saw, instead, a stack of books. Carter came up behind me and pulled out a zippo. The light was dim and flickering. I could hardly see the curtains blowing against the wind– and I almost missed the face right beside the window.

    The lighter coughed and then went out. I could hear three people breathing, three sets of lungs crying, and that's what made my heart falter; I found Carter's hand in the dark. Our atoms collided, and for that I am eternally grateful.

i'm keeping the main plot, but changing it. i couldn't understand why i didn't like the way it turned out last time; and then i realized i wrote it wrong. i was trying to pour my heart into a novel i didn't fully understand. it was too innocent in a sweet way, and that's not how i write. i'm doing it the Phyllis way now. i hope it turns out okay. 




i can't believe this got a DD. thank you :heart: this is a greatgreat day. 
:rose: :rose: & thank you for the suggestion neurotype 
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

Chapter 4: Converting the Commander


"We're ba-a-ack!" Emile sang, after kicking in the door. He marched in, with Jun following, still wiping his red eyes and muttering about a newly developed fear of shopping malls. Jorge, of course, was stuck carrying all the trappings, which consisted of many boxes, bags and random packages.

"What the…"

The place was clean. Sparkling. Scary clean. It even smelled like Pine Sol, which was odd, because Pine Sol had ceased production in the 23rd century. At any rate, it was slightly eerie, also because no one was bumming around like usual. The place had been wiped clean and squared away…

… and decked with holly?

"Ooh! It's like that old song! Deck the halls with boughs of—OW!" Jun screeched as Emile twisted his ear. "Don't interrupt my festive song! And let go of my ear!"

"Ah, you're back," Kat said, stepping out to greet them. Emile's jaw nearly detached itself from his face and fell to the ground. She was wearing a red velvet turtleneck (which clearly defined her womanliness) with black slacks that were tucked into black leather boots. Somehow she'd managed to comb her short hair differently and… was that lipstick?

"Jun, Jorge, run. Our friends have been kidnapped and replaced with evil twins," Emile said faintly, still holding Jun's ear between his thumb and forefinger, while Jun just stared.

"Oh, boys, you might want to run and change into something more formal. We're having esteemed company tonight," Kat admonished.

"Who?" Jun queried.

"Who do you think, the Easter bunny?" Kat snapped. "Colonel Urban Holland, that's who!"

"The Colonel's coming? Why?" Jorge wondered.

"No earthly idea. At all. But that doesn't change the fact he'll be here in less than seven hours. That's how much time we have to complete putting everything together," Kat instructed. "Apparently he wants to have Christmas dinner with us."

"But the Commander—" Emile started.

"Leave Carter to me," Kat purred. "Meanwhile you three clean up and change into something presentable."

"I just have one question," Jun said, raising his hand. "Where did you get that shirt?"

"Why you silly goose," Kat sighed, shaking her head. "I stole it from Vice Admiral Parangosky."

"That old hag?" Emile sputtered.

"It looks infinitely better on me," Kat stated.

"Infinitely tighter," Emile coughed.

"What was that?"

"NOTHING!"

In the kitchen, aka Rosenda's Lair…

"What have you DONE?"

Rosenda gaped at the mess Gunnery Sergeant Stacker and his men and women had made. The Spartan replacement stalked forward and looked Stacker in the eye, which required her to look down. "I told you to prepare the Moa, Gunny! You assured me you could do this! So WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?"

"Well, y'see, there's only one real way to prepare one a' these beauties," Private Chips Dubbo drawled, flipping a meat patty on the huge skillet he was tending. He turned and Rosenda saw he was wearing an apron over his armor that said "Make Out with the Cook." "Ya make 'em the traditional Reach way… between two buns!"

"This. Is. A. SEMI-FORMAL. OCCASION," Rosenda hollered, as if that would help. "One does not serve burgers at a semi-formal occasion!"

"I had burgers at my wedding, thank you very much!" Stacker protested.

"Like that means anything?" Rosenda hissed.

Rosenda had been chosen by Holland to act as Emile's replacement on missions involving Insurrectionists, because she showed restraint as opposed to his habit of chopping up his foes. However, this situation made her want to go dismember a lot of people and leave lots of gore.

"Alrighty then…" Rosenda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and gritting her teeth. "Noble Actual, tonight you dine… on Moa burgers!"

Elsewhere inside Noble Base…

Kat slowly opened the door to Carter's private quarters and stepped in. The light was off but light came in from outside, dimly illuminating everything. This was where the Commander usually did his paperwork or pulled all-nighters filling out mission reports. There was a cot along one wall, and sure enough, Carter was laying on it, holding a data pad in front of his face. He looked up and saw her enter and put the data pad down, shutting it off, then sat up.

"Hey," Kat said, stealing over to sit at his side. "You really are in a funk, aren't you?"

"I can't do it, Kat."

"Wha…?"

"I can't celebrate Christmas."

There was a long pause between them, and predictably enough, Kat asked "Why?"

Carter picked up the data pad, turned it on, and opened an image program. He scrolled through various folders and poked one with his index finger. It opened and many images displayed across the screen. They were of a man and a woman and a young boy.

"I was one of the oldest Alpha Company recruits," Carter said softly, bowing his head. "Eleven when I finally reached Onyx. The other kids, they were younger. Didn't have as many memories to hold onto."

"How did you manage to keep all these?" Kat asked, amazed. She leaned in closer to get a better view, her forehead brushing Carter's bristly chin in the process.

"I had a data card with photos stored on it in my pocket when Biko was evacuated," Carter muttered. "I've had a couple of them developed… but most of them are in here," he indicated the data pad, "And in here," he added, tapping his forehead. "The card was taken from me when I started training, but after I got pulled from Alpha, well… Ambrose gave it back."

"They're beautiful," Kat said. "Your parents, I mean."

"They were," Carter agreed.

"So what does this have to do with you and Christmas?" Kat inquired.

"My memories of Christmas are with my parents," Carter said, clenching his jaw. "My family. Trying to observe it without them, it's… it's like I'll forget or something. I don't know. I don't feel like a Commander right now, I feel like a… a…"

A lost little boy, Kat thought, looking into Carter's handsome, scarred face. She cut him off by planting her lips on his, and when he didn't resist, she kept going. Finally the kiss broke and she nuzzled his cheek. "You idiot," she murmured, putting her arms around him. "You have a family. It's right here in front of your face. Enjoying happiness with us could never tarnish the memories you have of your parents. It never hurts to make new memories, especially if they're with people you care about."

"Kat…" Her nearness and softness was overwhelming his defenses by the second…

"I care about you, Carter," Kat interrupted, fixing him with her penetrating stare. "Very, very much."

Carter was silent for a moment, then he smiled, a genuine if somewhat sad smile.

"I guess I've been a regular fool then, huh?" he muttered, shaking his head.

"Perhaps." Kat chuckled, then cocked her head. "Now. How about cleaning up, getting dressed and joining the rest of society for a hot meal and some important guests?"

"Important guests?" Carter echoed, confused.

"Colonel Holland has invited himself to our little gathering," Kat said sweetly, as Carter paled and nearly fell off the bed. "Oh, and this just in: he's bringing friends. Very important friends, too. Apparently the notion of Spartans hosting a Christmas party draws attention faster than we thought."

"I have to hit the showers!" Carter fussed, jumping up and running down the hall to the men's quarters. He skidded to a halt in front of his designated trunk and dug out a neatly-folded uniform and some dress shoes, along with a white undershirt. "And shave! And inspect the receiving area! And—"

Kat planted another soft kiss on his mouth to shut him up. "Off you go, Commander," she admonished, pushing him toward the showers. "Leave the worrying to me. I've got it covered."

"Kat, sometimes I don't know what I'd do without you," Carter admitted, heading off to the showers.

"Don't you mean most of the time?" Kat snarked, and Carter sighed, though there was a renewed spark in his cobalt eyes.
Chapter four of my Halo holiday special :D

And for those of you awaiting moar chapterz on Fanfiction.net, no worries. I'll get 'em up as soon as I'm through with midterms.
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

As soon as he stepped into the open field, he slung the minesweeper from his shoulder and pointed its nose to the ground.  It was old, worn and heavy, and old and rough, calloused and breaking, and old.  The metal between his hands was cold and chilled his fingers.  If he was not careful he could step on the very mines he was trying to find.  They would have to pick up the pieces of his body and to send the tags home where his wife would cry and hold his son and daughter close with nothing to show them of their father but a piece of metal engraved with "Ajeet Singh".

One sweep, than another.

This war had taught him to never trust open spaces.  Open spaces were where the mines were planted, where Prets lay in wait.  France was green and damp just like the uniform he wore.  It had been days since he was separated from his unit, and now the Allies were breathing on his neck, searching for POW’s, searching for the enemy of which he was one.  He wasn’t armed now.  After the retreat from the landings, he had lost his rifle, as much as he was willing to go to war, carrying such a weapon never felt right in his hands.

Another sweep, and nothing.

The metal disc ran through the grass like a terrified rodent.  His boots sunk into the Norman sod, the stalks of vegetation splitting around his feet.  He longed for the sand and mud of Lahore.  This mud was different, murky, soaking, rotting like a bad fruit; he longed for the hard cracked earth, the earth that smelled of sweet dust and the soft under-pelt of tanned animal hides.  

Remember, tranquility in peaceful, sweeping motions.  Peace.  Breathe.

Every crack of a twig was no bird but a Brit, every call of an animal was an American.  He did not fear the Americans, they might pity him, and they might simply strip him of his garments and send him home.  They might laugh at him and treat him like some lesser primate.  

Krodh, anger.  He had spent so long living in it, that he was sure it was far too late to give it up now.  There was Krodh everywhere now.  The whole world suffered from it.  Lost somewhere between Caen and Bayeux, he found himself willing to accept that this was not the time to repent for such sins.

The Gods didn't paint him brown to have him suffer.  Yet he suffered.  He suffered in cold and he suffered in rain and he suffered from being so far from home, but he suffered in silence.  He had one white man telling him to shoot at another white man, but he was more willing to take orders from a German rather than a Brit.  He hated them.  He hated them enough to raise his hand and volunteer to fight against them.  North Africa had been hot.  The POW holding areas had been hot, but France was cold, and he hated that as well.  

The beep struck him like the shot of a bullet, blood rushed, his eyes widened.  The small trickle of sweat slid down his neck from under his Dastar.  The mine rested in front of him.
He kneeled.  Careful.  Peace.  Breathe.

Peeling back the disturbed grass, he brushed away the dirt and soon enough he found the rim of the mine.  He carefully laid it open.

His left hand was the hand that did not shake, the right rocked like the legs of a new born calf and the longer he stayed away from home, the worse it grew.  It must be the cold, the wet, the fear of death, the thoughts of his lonesome wife and children.  If he could defuse this mine, he would be safe, he promised himself.  He would go back and kiss the forehead of his young daughter and embrace his son.  He would hold his wife at night again, cradling her body under the sheets of their bed.  His right hand would be the one to hold her, the left, steady and true, would lift off her clothes with gentle precision just like he had lifted the top of the mine.

Out comes that piece, out comes this piece.  Peace.  Breathe.

Finally he found it, the triggering mechanism, nestled in the chest of the mine like a beating heart.  He would stop it.  

He pulled up the wires to it and carefully cut them, the electrical arteries would bleed out and he would be safe.  One wire was snapped, then another.  Any wrong cut could explode the mine.  He was thankful to the Guru for his time on earth, should it end.  The new mines the new wave of Allies had brought with them were difficult.  Every wire was tangled worse than before, every wire looked closer to the one next to it, every explosive could still have been active for sometimes two triggers were rigged to it.  The sweat was clammy on his forehead as he clenched his ivory colored teeth together.

The final wire was wrapped between his fingers.  He could feel it, the power that the single rubber encased artery held within it was the power of the Gods.  It was the power of life and death, or living as a whole or living in pieces.  It was anger, it was greed, it was lust, pride, ego.  It was everything he had been taught was wrong and to give up.  It was everything that might stop him form being human and yet it was everything that made him human.

He pulled it free and waited for the fire.  When it did not come, he withdrew his hand.

Peace.  Breathe.
So this is my (very late posting) of my entry for :icondoughboycafe:'s Historical flash fiction contest.
BLURG  YUP, I tried to write a thing.  I tried to do some playing with language here to see what would happen.

Word Count: 959

doughboycafe.deviantart.com/jo… <-- Link to the journal.

Research places (I'm just throwing up a bunch of stuff since srsly like no one writes about this and it makes me super sad and everyone should learn about the foreign volunteers in the german army because its so freaking interesting, I can't even HISTORYYYYY)

www.feldgrau.com/azadhind.html

web.archive.org/web/2007042200…

news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/368…

www.freeindianlegion.info/pag_…

germanmilitariacollectibles.co…

www.german-helmets.com/INDIAN_…

mabrgordon.hubpages.com/hub/Wo…
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.