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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

The beginning of the middle of the end


autumn_sun

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(OOC:Mrowr... I'm very eremophobic... it's okay though, I have friends.)

 

Damon looked about at the small assortmentof various races, wondering if his confusion at seeing the pixie would kill him again. He decided it couldn't be any worse than the odd ways he had died while he was dead, so he just took whatever was coming.

 

"Now how do I get back to beng myself?" He said aloud, looking at his strangely drunken aunt, as he had been so graciously told by the annoying stage manager duing their lunch break. He told him that it did get a little dull after killing him all of the time, and that they should enjoy a nice cup of... stuff. It turned out the stage manager was Death, so it might have been souls or something. Whatever it was, it had been really potent.

 

A second later, a small pinkkitten appeared and immediately produced a lightbulb that floated above it's head. Amoment later, Damon found himself semi-conscious, as the same exclamation point it him before it finally splintered. "Heh... noy yu zain't gonna hit me wz that thingy no more, right... left...?" He felt as drunk as his aunt did now.

 

The kitten pounced on him and uncred something that smelled like week-old warehouse salmon and poured it down Damon's throat. It meowed and made him finish the bottle. It tasted like week-old warehouse salmon too... Damon was forced to swallow i though, as oddly elongated claws werepointed at him. After swallowing, the kitten disappeared and Damon coughed.

 

All three of the others turned around to see Damon's spirit... without the hole in his head.

 

(OOC: Well, I guess that means I can speak again. Sorry for taking so long to find a way out of this, but I think it worked.)

 

Other kitty Emoticons:

>*-*<

Surprised

>`_`<

happy Japanese kitty

>~.~<

asleep

>^_^<

very happy

>'_'<

blank

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{{=resists urge to glomp & steal kitty faces=}}

 

=The ghost turned her attention away from the ground she was so intently staring at and looked at the spirit= "H....ello..." =she blinked slowly, looking as if she were either about to fall over or pass out. Neither one mattered much to her, but the annoying intoxicated feeling worried her a bit= "Wh....what's going on....?"

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Damon leapt around in the air for a second and promptly hugged his aunt. "I... I'm alive? Oh, wait... I'm not, but you all can see me, and i'm dead. And I can finally see what my aunt looked like! And... I can run around and stuff out here, and not in that damned black place with the giant splinters and the guillotine blades. That stage manager is a nutcase."

 

He looks at the little girl, his aunt, and pats her on the shoulder. "YOu're not going to die again on me, are you?"

 

(eep... crappy post, but I'm sooo tired.)

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{{funny...i can't see straight, you're tired...eh}}

 

"I...don't think so..." =she looked queasy, if she actually had a stomach, she'd probably be throwing up whatever was in it= "I don't plan on dying again..." =she sighed= "I'd love to know what happened back there...." =a thought occured as she stared at the no longer sporting giant holes in his head Damon=

 

I don't remember Death being like THAT

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(OOC: I hope you have a little bit of time, cuz this is a little lengthy...)

 

 

He cleared his throat and began stating matter-of-factly...

 

"Well, you see, I often find myself fainting at the sight of the paranormal, or anything that I construe to be extraordinarily abnormal. In my past years of visiting you, dear aunt, I have found many a ghost have tried to frighten me off, steal my soul, possess me, or whatever. Naturally, I faint, and I typically wake up in a garden shed somewhere with a large, blood-covered, pair of hedgetrimmers. More often though, it's a different weapon, so i already know I am possessed and used for murder. The period of time that I am asleep is of no recollection to me, however I am fully aware of what is going on, even though I can't stop myself..." He made a drink of water appear and took a small sip.

 

"when I faint, I fall into a comatose status, thus my heartbeat and pulse drop to critical levels, and most poeple would see me as on the verge of dying. I would always remain like that until I can find the phone reciever that I placed in my mind during my first dream as a child. Should I ever wish to wake up from any form of slumber, comatose, death, whatever, all I have to do is pick up the reciever and dial the number to my conscious body, which will send 100,000 volts of electricity to my brain, instantly charging my brain with my own invention of heatless electricity, so I don't fry my brain in the process of reviving." He took another sip of water.

 

"This, as you may now not, makes me immortal. However, the small kitten that I believe you might have seen run off into the distance with a large wooden exclamation point was a spirit posessing me. I buried my cat here a long time ago, after I ran it over with my car because it was trying to slaughter my family. It was an evil cat, but it wasn't pink, which is why I didn't recognize it until I awoke with a hole in my head. this spirit did not use me for murder, but rather destroyed the phone while I was lying in the blackness of death, thus preventing me from waking up. Had i been able to pick up the phone before she destroyed it, then the hole in my head would have been inconsequential and I would have woken up. Thus," he pointed to the kitsune, "You did not technically kill me. you merely caused me to faint into a comatose state. It appeared as though I had died of fright, but until I died the second time, you could not have known that I would have been hit with a large splinter." He created some more water as he finished his current supply.

 

"It was in time that I awoke from the death my kitten had bestowed upon me, and found myself yelling into nothingness, only to be replied to by Death, the stage manager of the most deadly play I could attend. I was doomed to die for an eternity in different ways for cheating death so many times, and he found it humorous to play the stage manager who managed all of the props. As soon as I didged the first guillotine blade that was launched at me from out of nowhere, I was a tad too egotistical, giving him the chance to shoot a dozen more at me, dicing me into small chunks of fleshy tomatoes. It was then, I believe, that you found the hole in my head, realizing I had died of that cause, and not of fright. It took me a great amount of time, perhaps a half of an hour out in reality, but several days of dodging various death traps (OOC: which i didn't write...) until I discovered I could carve my own way out with a piece of chalk. I simply cut my way out of a crushing aluminum box, drew a stage exit, and left. It was death's fault that he told me it was a stage and not an endless void of suffering. And now... here I am. Will that suffice for explanation...? Forgive me if the latter comment sounded rude of me. The last thing I would want to do is kill my aunt with my horrid manners that I have sometimes..."

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Elwen sighs and sits down, ignoring the fact she is wearing white silk. "Everyone faces death their own way. And everyone has a different view of death. To me, death is not suffering...but a new beginning. But it is your choice."

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(OOC: Mrowr...? What is white silk supposed to mean? No, really... I'm confused... Oh well.)

 

Damon looks over at Elwen, despite the lack of knowledge of a name. "Actually, death is what you make of it. I've probably died more times than you, especially after having to push redial seventeen times in a day so I'd stop getting run over by my psycho grandfather's car... He didn't like me. He killed me with the first hit, I got up after dialing, he ran me over again... and that repeated fifteen more times before he ran away in terror. He hit a tree after that..."

 

He sat down next to the fox spirit. "Death is only suffering if you make it that way, and death oonly wanted to make me suffer because I just wouldn't die... Sorry to sound arrogant or anything, but I was immortal until my cat smashed the phone. It was bad the first time, but... after another 27 times of dying, it kind of gets old... forgive me if my grammar continues to change, I have an odd habit of switching which part of my brain I use... That's a nice dress by the way, and i mean that in the least... inappropriate manner possible. So... my dear aunt, how have you been. I am aware i'm talking too much, and that i seem pretty calm about being dead and all, but at least i won't have to die again, and i might as well get over it..."

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=she stared blankly, slowly mentally digesting what Damon had said=

 

"Ah..." =she nodded, though raher confused. Death for her had been rather simple, which she proceeded to explain=

 

"You see...all that happened to me was...well first came the lack of oxygen...all that gunk in my lungs...suffocated on it. Anyway...it was rather odd...then it went all dark...Like...someone had turned off the lights in my head...I couldn't see anything...I was merely floating...stuck for a while, you know? It felt like it had been only a day...but by the time I could take a form...it had been a month...It was really weird." =she made a face as she finished explaining, paying no attention to Elwen=

 

"As for my current state right now...Ok, I suppose...I'm still not sure if I have emotions still, though there I did feel a bit concerned for your death. Odd...I know. Upon meeting you, dear nephew, things have gone....odd."

 

=she smiled slightly= "You got over that fact rather quickly...I...however..." =she gave a meek shrug=

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Damon blinks, suddenly thanking himself he's at least not a zombie, and turns to his aunt. "Well, maybe you had it so easy, not having to repair your broken ribs and all, because you died quietly. If I hadn't planted that phone in there, i would have died a lot younger than you... It is quite terrible to die over and over again, reliving the agony of being crushed, cut, shot, bludgeoned... and everything else. In a way, as bland and boring as your death may have been... you had a better death than I did, mostly because you don't add an 's' to the end of death..."

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