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 Post subject: Weakness [Story][Public]
PostPosted: Mon Aug 04, 2014 11:14 pm 

Joined: Sep 22, 2013
Posts: 888
by RuwinReborn
Status: Public :diamond:

Jemmamime was running from the law, though she was only eight years old.

Most of her friends called her Jemma, but that was not very important right now, since she was trying to duck under a high fence to escape the two constables running after her. It was important that she get away, because she did not like holding cells or the people within them, and here, in the city, there was no one to take pity on a poor orphan girl. Of this, she was certain.

That is, until she ran into a tree trunk. As she fell over, dazed, she wondered who had put a tree in the middle of the city - and why it was picking her up. After several more moments of confusion, Jemma found herself high in the air, and sitting comfortable on a branch - no, a shoulder. This was not tree, just an impossibly large person. With… green skin, and a heavy brow. She could not see the eyes of this creature beneath this brow, but there was a sort of reptilian bent to the face that caused her fear. If the creature was regarding her, it was with something else other than sight.

The constables rounded the corner, and Jemma instinctively held on to her monstrous savior, who had yet to say a word. The constables looked at the large creature. The creature, presumably, gazed back. Then, the constables left.

“Weak.” A voice seemed to rumble from all around her, and it took a moment to realize it was coming from the creature - person? - below. She looked down at it from her perch. “Chasing a thing so much smaller than they. So much frailer than they. Because of their laws. Tell me, small thing, what you did to anger them so.” It was not a question, and so it took a moment for Jemma to realize she was being addressed. She had been staring at his many rows of blunt teeth as he spoke, fascinated.

“Um… I stole some sweets.” She replied honestly, getting the uncomfortable feeling this… man would know if she lied.

“Then you deserve those sweets.” He told her certainly, and then began to walk. “A thing cannot be expected to hold on to what it is not vigilant over. Those with the power to take, will. Those with the power to protect, will. It is the way of things.”

“Um… sir?” She was not certain what the large, green, warty man was talking about. “...May you put me down, please?”

“I will not.” He replied. “And soon, you will see why. But until then, you will be patient.” These words escaped his mouth with an air of finality, and Jemma lost the will to argue. Instead, she removed the stolen sweets from her pocket and popped them into her mouth, one by one. The person beneath her continued to talk, but she did not listen to many of it’s words. Instead, she just stared at it.

From her vantage point atop his shoulder, it was difficult to see much about him. His arms were long, and thick. One reached almost to the ground, extended knuckles occasionally dragging in the dirt, and the other held what appeared to be some sort of massive, wooden staff. The bottom, however, exploded outwards in a thick mess of roots,making it look like he was carrying an enormous club, but upside down. His skin was rough like tree-bark, and it was the strangest shade of moss-green. His legs were much shorter than his arms, but thick and powerful. His neck distended into a large sac, which wiggled occasionally as he walked and provided no small amount of amusement for Jemma. All in all, he looked like a large, many-toothed toad with the body of a scaly ape.

He also stood twice again as tall as just about anyone they passed. Maybe if she could be friends with this person, the constables would begin to leave her alone for good.

She was pleased to note that, while everyone appeared to scatter in front of the person, no one really tried to stop him. She was not certain if they could, or if that was a good idea. She saw a few other lawmen, but again, the person met little resistance as he continued to walk through the city. He would point out flaws in the architecture, flaws in the people, and flaws in the system. Jemma thought the big person was being pessimistic, but did not tell him so from her perch atop his shoulder.

It took her the better part of a half-hour to realize they were walking towards the castle, and then, only because she saw the gates looming up before her. The city was large, but the castle was most certainly a place that urchins like her tried to avoid. No doubt here, they would be stopped, because the armed guardsmen at the door raise their weapons and ordered a halt. The person did not respond.

Jemma was growing nervous, and shouted in alarm when the guardsman lifted his pike and thrust it towards the big person. The weapon stuck in his side, but there was no grunt of pain or even any reaction at all. All the big person did was swat the guardsman away like a bug.

She… did not see where the guardsman went, but it was certainly over the roof of a nearby building. The other guard did little to hinder their continued advance.

As they entered the courtyard, Jemma could hear an alarm sounding, and with every clang of the bell, she felt fear settle in her gut. Her protector - who she was beginning to think was mad - paid no heed. She, however, looked all around and saw soldiers streaming from within the castle, some with bows and arrows.

Then, the ground began shaking.

It was the strangest thing. The person carrying her seemed not to notice the calamity that was being wrought all around him, as soldiers fell from the wall, and the walls splintered and cracked. Jemma herself hardly felt the ground moving at all, though all around her soldiers lost their balance and toppled. Still, the green-skinned behemoth carried her forward, and when he encountered a large, barred door, he simply placed his hand upon it and pushed.

It splintered inward, and they entered the king’s court.

Jemma had never seen the king before. She had assumed he would look less nervous. And that his crown would be on his head, and not on the floor.

“What is the meaning of this?” The king demanded, though his voice was nothing compared to the deep, sonorous rumble that followed.

“I am Clade!” And her erstwhile savior punctuated this statement by slamming his staff-club onto the ground. That, she felt. “Your people are weak - and a storm is coming. If they wish to weather it, they must be prepared. But only the strong will survive. Your people are not strong. Your people will not survive.”

Jemma shifted uncomfortably on the person’s - Clade’s - shoulder. No one was looking at her, but the ground was still too far away.

“Are you threatening me, monster?” The king demanded, and Jemma glanced behind them at the sound of many boots entering the court. “Take it away!”

Clade slammed his staff on the ground three times, raised his hand, and shouted. There was more shaking, and now, even the walls began to tumble down. The king lost his balance, there was stone falling everywhere and then-

Something stuck Jemma in the head, and she was lost to the world.


Clade stared down at the unconscious form the the small thing. So small. So frail. And yet, Clade sensed within her great strength. Power to do what is necessary. Power to lead the now-scattered people of this city. She would do, in time. In time.

He made sure to knit her cracked head back together before he turned, and left the would-be court of weaklings. All around him was ruin, covered in the thick, grasping roots of his forest. Stone gave way to tree, cobble gave way to grass. He had summoned his calamity, destroyed the foundation of this city. Where the castle had once stood was the largest tree anyone on this plane had ever seen, though Clade knew it was just a sapling. In time, it would branch out to cover much of this place in its canopy. All things beneath it would be subject to his supervision. All things beneath it would be subject to his protection. In time. In time.

He sniffed the air, bright, green eyes gazing over his newly created forest placidly. The weak monarchy had been usurped, and in its place, nature would teach these things to be strong. For a storm was coming. A storm was coming. And he had much left to do to prepare for it.

He vanished without a word, and left this place to recover from the taint of its own weakness.

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PostPosted: Sat Aug 09, 2014 5:11 pm 

Joined: Aug 04, 2014
Posts: 1320
Identity: human
Preferred Pronoun Set: he
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