The Four, Part One

Eternity swirled around them, and Vendon's stomach churned within him. The strange void they seemed to fly through felt as if it was made of razorblades, filleting his flesh off with every inch they traveled—and they seemed to be moving at an incredible speed, traveling millions of miles. Of course, he also felt like he was standing completely still, immobilized, paralyzed, utterly helpless.

With an inaudible snap that Vendon seemed to feel, rather than hear, reality collapsed into place around him once more. No longer was he standing under the large weeping willow in the middle of his park, the familiar scenery now replaced with marble floors walls. Barely able to control his rapid breathing, he glanced around to see his girlfriend, Stona, shuddering next to him, with his best friend Bennet on the other side, who made a hacking noise before unloading the days breakfast on the ornate floor. Bennet's brother, Trav, stood next to him, looking as if he was torn between patting his younger brother's back consolingly and throwing up himself.

In front of them all stood the strange man who had approached them in the park, the man who had instigated all of this strangeness. The man who had, apparently, kidnapped them. He was tall, with shoulder-length brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and eyes that had no visible pupils or cornea, but instead seemed to be formed of molten gold.

“I assure you, the first travel through the Multiverse is always the worst. You'll get used to it, in time.”

“You son of a bitch!” Vendon roared, in a decidedly uncharacteristic fit of rage. He reached within himself, recalling the Arcturus Plains north of his hometown of Onegas, drawing power from the memory, shaping it just like he had for the first time last week, before throwing his hand out in front of him, letting loose the energy in the form of a blazing white sword.

The man in front of him frowned, almost imperceptibly, his fingers making a small design in the air. Vendon felt the power he summoned fade from him, and the sword he was forming with it seemed to falter during creation, dissolving in the air like a glowing white smoke in the wind.

“I tussled with Mishra, boy,” the man said, a stern look on his face. “With Urza. Yes, I was there at the Brother's War, countless years before you were a twinkle in your father's eye. I have fought demons, and wrestled control of them. I have faced angels, and had them bow before me. Dragons that have lived for thousands of years are at my beck and call.” Slowly, he walked closer to the young man, before placing two fingers under his chin and tilting his head up so that their eyes stared into each other. “I'm afraid you're not quite evenly matched with me.”

Bennet stood straight, wiping his mouth on his tunic. “What do you want with us, then?” he asked, his voice quivering.

The man looked in his direction and seemed to deflate. He sighed. “I want to teach you,” he said. “If I wanted to hurt you, you would have already been destroyed in EbonHurst. And I tell you the truth when I say that it was a valid possibility. Four sparks igniting at once, all on the same plane, amongst friends? It's unthinkable. Unprecedented. Absolutely impossible. And yet, it happened, not a week ago, and that is something remarkable. Had I not traveled to EbonHurst to yank you out of there myself, I guarantee you that another Walker would have. It most assuredly would have been a more...unkind meeting, if you catch my drift.”

Stona sank to the ground, a look of puzzled despair on her face. “I have no idea what's going on, here,” she finally said, hanging her head so that her long, lustrous blonde hair covered her face. “We're going to die, aren't we? I knew something like this would happen. As soon as all of those freaky things started happening to us. I know enough about sorcerers, warlocks, wizards, to know that none of us fit the bill for one of those.”

The man snorted. “Hardly. They pale in comparison to the might of a Planeswalker, that I can assure you.” He offered her a hand, and she reluctantly took it before being pulled to her feet once more. The man looked at each of them in turn, before saying, “Planeswalkers are a breed apart from everything you've known before. We alone have the ability to travel the Multiverse, exploring realities that sometimes defy logic. We have the ability to draw power from each of these planes, using this raw mana to our own ends, to summon allies under our control, or cast fantastic spells.

“One in every million sentient beings born across the Multiverse is born with the spark, the raw potential to become a Planeswalker. Of those, only one in every billion actually awakens that spark, gaining the ability to draft mana from the planes. And each of you have done that. Now, if you prefer, I can take you back to your plane of EbonHurst. You can experiment with your abilities on your own. And in maybe as long as a month's time, another Walker will seek you out, and they will not have nearly as kind of intentions as I have. If you're lucky, you'll die quickly.

“Or, I can show you to your individual rooms, have the servants prepare a feast for tonight, and begin teaching you how to use your newfound abilities on the morrow. Which would you prefer?”

To Hell with the DMV

For two days, I've spent hours at the DMV, and have still not accomplished the task I need done.  I really don't understand how we haven't improved that agency at all in the last twenty years.

Anyways, no real point to this other than whining, and noting that I get to wake up at 5am tomorrow so I can get there an hour before they open.  Because maybe waiting for an hour outside the building before they open will ensure I don't have to wait for 4 hours inside the building after they open.

Maybe.

Piracy for the win?

Lately I've been ALL OVER this song, and I felt the need to bring it to the attention of some of you guys.  It's another great track by Netsky, the VIP of 'Pirate Bay', and you can check it out here.  Happy jamming!

Censorless, Part Four

This is Part Four of the story.  Part Three can be found here.

"Can you tell me how many geographicals are within Alexandria's Circle?"

Kote frowned at the balding man who asked the question, the Headmaster of Divinations.  "I don't understand what possible difference it could make if I could or couldn't," he said.

The nine Headmasters of the University exchanged glances amongst each other, most of them thoroughly disgruntled, except for one large man who was barely suppressing a grin.

"It matters," the man finally said, "because if you do not possess adequate knowledge of the arcane, you will not be admitted into this university!"

"That doesn't make any sense.  I'm a chaos mage.  I don't use circles.  It's one of the advantages."

Once again, the Headmasters exchanged glances, this time accompanied with hushed whispers to each other.

"First, young Master--" the Headmaster glanced at his copy of the entry application Kote had filled out, "Kote, I'll be so kind as to ignore your plea for attention and inform you that you are not permitted to lie during this entry examination.  Secondly, I'm--"

"I've yet to lie, Headmaster.  I don't do that."

The heavyset man on the end, the Headmaster of Evocation, chuckled with mirth as the cheek of the Divinations Headmaster twitched in anger.  "That's quite enough, young man!" he finally shouted.  "You enter this University with not one single reference of any credibility, you immediately make a mockery of the examinations process by refusing to answer the first question you are asked, or even admit your own ignorance of the subject, and you boldly claim the impossible, as if we would not be aware of the complete and utter impossibility of a sniveling teenager such as yourself being a chaos mage!  This University has a strong--"

Once more he was interrupted by the applicant.  "Alexandria's Circle has fourteen geographicals contained within it, and seventeen in total.  It was created, of course, by the sorceress Alexandria, one of the companions of Emperor Marrux Drowbane, roughly eight-thousand, two hundred years ago.  The exact date she created the circle is unknown.  The circle is often used in powerful divination spells, particularly ones that involve multiple targets.  As far as my abilities as a chaos mage being impossible," he stood from his chair, his hands held out and his feet splayed, "if you would choose to challenge me in a duel, divinationist, I will gladly cause you irreparable harm in order to prove my ability."

The Quest, Part Four

This is Part Four of the story.  Part Three can be found here.

The trickiest thing about fighting a Paladin of the Silver Wing is figuring out exactly which direction to run away in.  --Garn Calloushand, slaver

Garek burst out of his quarters at the sound of the loud explosion.  He cast a quick glance around before noticing the ship next to their own, a ship double, no, triple the size of The Losgud, with two rows of snub-nosed cannons pointing out at the cargo ship.  The deck was filled with corsairs, each with a drawn firearm or blade, and on the top of the poop deck stood a man, larger than the rest, wearing expensive red clothing trimmed in gold, and holding the ruby studded hilt of a cruel cutlass.  "Prepare to be boarded, sirs, and prepare to die!"

Garek wordlessly began striding towards the edge of the Losgud, his  left hand reaching back to thumb the small catch on the sheath he wore on his back, causing it to splay open like the wings of a butterfly, while his right hand gripped the hilt and pulled the massive, five-foot-long sword off of his back.  He reached the edge of the deck and jumped in the direction of the ship twenty feet away, roaring, "Leap of Faith!"  At the apex of his jump, silver wings of light seemed to sprout out of his back, flapping once, then twice, carrying him the distance to the pirate vessel, where he landed easily behind the men prepared to board his ship.

"And for the Light, I shall fight.  For it's will, I shall kill."  He spun, gripping the heavy blade in two hands, and his weapon made contact with one, two, then three of the corsairs, splitting them open at their chests, cutting the first in half.  "I believe I'm your first opponent, gentlemen," he said, his eyes narrow slits, radiating rage and hatred for the evil auras each one of them projected.

The pirates were battle-hardened, and needed little time to react, firing their guns and rushing him with drawn blades.  Garek surrendered himself to his battle rage, his sword a blur in the air as it spun around him in elegant circles, blocking bullets and severing limbs and heads from the pirates.  A stray bullet caught him on the shoulder, and Garek snarled, throwing out his hand at the offending gunsman.  "Ties that Bind!" he roared, as a shining silver chain rocketed from his open hand, wrapping around the pirate.  With a grunt, he yanked the chain, sending the man flying through the air and smashing into the mast with the force of an elephant, cracking it in two before it shuddered and fell back, crushing more of the sailors under it.

More of the pirates swarmed from below decks, dozens of them standing before the exiled paladin.  "You can't fight all of us alone," the dwarven man in front said, a stout individual with ornate rapiers in each hand.  Clearly, this was their first mate.

"Very well, then,"  Garek said, raising his hand.  "Jace.  Aid me."

Nothing happened, and the pirates began exchanging glances amongst themselves, chuckling, as confidence began to return once more to their ranks.  "And what was that supposed to do, paladin?" the first mate asked.


Wordlessly, Garek pointed up.

The dwarf caught the site of the talons, the cruel beak designed for ripping into prey, the large, beautiful, snow-white wings, and barely got out the word, "Griffon!" before Jace was on him, ripping into his chest with vicious, razor-blade talons as if the chainmail he wore was made of dried grass.

"A paladin is never alone, fool," Garek said, casually walking by the rows of horrified pirates.  "Kill them, Jace.  I've their captain to deal with."

He took the steps to the poop deck to see the captain alone, his cutlass in one hand, his revolver in the other.  "Come, then, paladin.  One of us will die an honorable death this day."

Garek stopped, marveling at the aura of pure, unashamed evil the man radiated.  The man was a fiend, a demon among men, and it showed.  Through the years his perversion had even affected the very vessel they stood on, which also glowed with a dark light under Garek's ability.  The paladin shook his head.

"No," he said.  "You're not dying in combat.  You don't deserve the satisfaction.  Leap of Faith!"  He jumped straight up, the silvery wings sprouting from his back once more, flapping to take him higher and higher, until they finally disappeared when he reached an altitude slightly higher than the top of the other two masts.  He flipped midair as he dove towards the deck, pulling his giant blade back, which began glowing as he roared, "SMITE EVIL!"

His fullblade smashed into the deck of the ship, shattering it as if it had been hit by a rushing train.  Garek fell still, smashing through two more decks before he plunged into ice-cold water, the ship snapping in half above him.  Frantically, he began to swim away from the vessel, but he wore heavy armor, and was gripping a sword that was nearly as tall as he was--for all the headway he made away from the vessel, he sank lower and lower, rapidly.

Finally, he cleared the vessel and threw out his hand.  Bubbles and muffled noises issued from his mouth as he named the spell, but the silver chain still shot forward, out of the water, and he felt it catch on something before he began rising, higher and higher, finally breaking out of the water, as Jace pulled the chain until he fell to his feet, once again aboard the Losgud.

And I'm There Before She Knows It

I'll be gone before she sees me
Got my hand around her waist
I'm pulling her to safety
By the time she knows what's happened
There'll be someone else who needs me
Time keeps dragging on
And on, and on, and on

I have absolutely fallen in passionate love with this song.  It's about The Flash, and after listening to this song a few dozen times today, I had to do some more reading and whatnot on him, and he's pretty much become one of my favorite superheroes all of a sudden.  I always liked the guy, don't get me wrong, but I'd name a dozen heroes I liked before I even thought about him...I don't know that that's the case anymore.

Anyways, you should seriously check it out.  The song is fantastic, which surprised the crap out of me, because you'd expect a song about a superhero to not even be particularly good, let alone amazing :D

Okay, Let's See if We Can Do This

So, clearly, there's been a lack of sustenance-filled posts here lately.  This is due to a few reasons.  One of them is just I've been really busy lately, and the other is a lack of inspiration/willpower.

I love writing, but trying to sit down every day (originally the plan was to post four to five new chapters a week) and write a new chapter is, to be honest, a bit of a task--and I already have ADHD to begin with -.-  It got to the point where I was having to force myself to write whenever I did post anything, and half the time I'd get two paragraphs down, be unable to bulldoze through Writer's Block anymore, and say "Screw this, I've got some Netflix to catch up on."  Hopefully, however, that won't be the case anymore.

I'm going to try a new schedule for myself, involving two new chapters a week by yours truly (I'm aiming for Monday and Friday for those), one chapter a week by a guest writer (I'm aiming for Wednesday on that one), and two to four 'wild' posts, that might be random info-updates like this, some of the game-oriented stuff I've done in the past, like Great Gaming Music, or your typical blog post.  If you don't care about any of the extra stuff, and you only want to read stories, near the top of the page is a 'Stories' button, that'll take you to the stories page.

Long story short, I know that Cerebral Vomit has been severely lacking on content, and I'm going to do everything I can to rectify this situation.  My readers are too awesome not to :)

Sheaf, Part Five

The cleric Karin caught my attention immediately, and when we left the town of Halfbridge, we left together.  She, too, was traveling on a quest to learn more about the world, and we spent many nights staying up entirely too late into the night, debating various scientific theories whilst the campfire burned down to glowing embers.

I would not say that I was in love, exactly, but I admit to a fascination.  Rarely in the life of Joseff had I met anyone with the same passion for knowledge and solving mysteries that I had, and Karin had that passion to spare.  Without a doubt, though, the largest mystery that I faced during that time was that of Karin herself.

Karin laughed, a rich, pleasant sound that made the woods around them seem more alive.  "I thought he was going to drop of a heart attack," she said.  "The look on his face!"

Sheaf chuckled, nodding.  "I told him that he'd get caught, didn't I?"

Karin lay back, peering at the stars through the clearing in the canopy of leaves overhead.  "You always seem to have another trick up your sleeve, Sheaf.  Sometimes, I think you surprise even yourself."

Sheaf shrugged, poking at the fire with a long stick.  "Sometimes I do."

She turned on to her side, peering at him.  "So what is the mystery of the great Sheaf, then?  We've journeyed for months, and I still feel like I hardly know you."

The touch of a frown appeared on Sheaf's face as he murmured, almost inaudibly, "I feel the same way."  Then, it was gone, replaced by a wry smile.  "This from Karin, lady of secrets, cleric of a nameless God and scientist of an unspecified field of study."

It was her turn to frown, now, and the two lapsed into an ever-so-slightly-uncomfortable silence.  They had seemed to wordlessly agree long ago that each of them would refrain from digging into each others past, but the topic still occasionally arose, usually in jest.  Each time, Sheaf felt a pang of paranoia, a need he didn't fully understand to keep his abilities, and the very nature of his existence, private.  Each time, he also felt that he desperately needed to give some of himself up, in order to learn more about this intelligent, skilled woman he traveled with.  Each time, he felt as if he needed to learn more about her, for some important reason he couldn't quite figure out.  And then, there was the Itch.

The Itch was a misnomer, of course.  He didn't have the words to adequately define the feeling that began to originate in the back of his head whenever he was faced with some mystery, some secret, until it reverberated throughout his skull.  It was a combination of a maddening itch that one couldn't scratch, and the feeling of bashing your funny bone against a stone wall, and the feeling of goosebumbs on his very brain.  It was all of these, and a thousand more things, and it was none of these.

It was absolutely maddening.

When the Itch presented, there was nothing he could do about it but search down the truth of whatever was hidden from him.  At the same time, however, he had no way of learning anything about Karin that she wasn't willing to disclose, and, as often as they talked, personal information of any real caliber rarely left her lips.  Oh, certainly, he knew that her favorite flower was the lily, and she had an uncanny ability to cook extravagantly spicy orcish food, but such tidbits of information did nothing, less than nothing, to scratch the maddening Itch that reverberated through him.

Of course, she was hardly the only cause of the Itch.  Anytime he entered a new town or city, it would inevitably come.  Sometimes, the pleasant times, he'd be able to do something about it.  The two of them, working together, would often track down truths, sometimes in the field, solving crimes or answering calls for adventurers, sometimes in libraries, researching the history or geography of the local area.

Figuring out whatever knowledge was hidden from him dissolved the Itch in a wave of ecstasy.  Waves of pleasure radiated out from his brain to the tips of his being, bringing forth a nearly orgasmic sense of satisfaction.  It was never enough, though.  Often, mere hours later, the Itch would begin again as some new secret was brought to his attention, either consciously or subconsciously.

Sheaf looked up, studying the stars as well, and wondered--not for the first time--if he was going insane.  Or, perhaps, if he already was.  His reminiscing was interrupted by a loud yawn, and he looked over to see Karin pulling her wool blanket over herself.  "I'm going to turn in," she said.

He nodded.  "Wake me up in the morning if I try to oversleep."

She snorted sarcastically.  "You?  Oversleep?  Never."

He chuckled under his breath as she turned over, her back to the fire, and began to drift to sleep, as his head returned to troubled thoughts.  Most predominantly of them all, of course, was the same question, the same maddening cause of the Itch that had followed him on-and-off again for months:  Who am I?

Coming Soon!

I know, I know, I'm WAY behind schedule, and for that, I apologize.  I just wanted to let you all know that I've got your back, and we'll have a new story update very soon.  Sorry for the delay, but life has been...rather insane.

Oh, Dear...

These long gaps of not-posting seem to keep happening, don't they?  Unfortunately, my life has been rather hectic here lately--since my last post, I've literally had no time to write at all.  And, to top it off, I'll be going out of state tomorrow, until early next week.  Sorry, guys!  I'll make it up to you as soon as I can :D