Call Of The Faithful [Ooc]

[JJKDrake]

GOddamnit!

You all right Drakeardian?

 

Good, no one wants an explanation of the feeling of pure evil

Edited May 11, 2014 by JJKDrake

[Issun135]

PWNR where you be at?

[JJKDrake]

I saw him in the Hounds and Rats like two hours ago, where he went though. Your guess is as good as mine Issun.

Edited May 11, 2014 by JJKDrake

[Spikey844]

'Husband to a murdered wife'

Gladiator reference.

[-Strayed-]

'Husband to a murdered wife'

Gladiator reference.

 

I'm glad you caught that.

[SirNocturne]

PWNR where you be at?

 

 

Two words...

Mother's Day

If Pwnr doesn't respond tomorrow morning I'll write the Corpus reaction myself, and also post Damin's attempt at freeing Cardina.

[SirNocturne]

The Trinity that had been following Tyranis nodded and left him to go about his business, returning to the infirmary where she felt she would likely be needed.

 

Meanwhile in the cafeteria, a group of ten Corpus walked in. The group was consistent of a Sniper Crewman and the rest were regular Dera Crewmen. The Sniper Crewman, who seemed to be the leader, barked out, "Hey you! Surrender now and put your hands in the air." He pointed to the Volt behind the counter to let him know just who he was talking to.

 

The Volt just stood there, staring blankly at the group of Corpus. The Sniper Crewman repeated, :Hey! I said put your hands up now!" Still, the Volt just stood there and stared blankly at the group. Trying to get a reaction out of the Volt, the Sniper Crewman walked over and reached over the counter. He waved his hand in front of the Volt's face and still, there was no response. He grew aggravated and swatted the Volt's hat right off of his head.

 

The Volt stood there for several seconds, still silent before reaching under the counter and pulling out a Gorgon Wraith which had 'The Blender' written on the side of the barrel. The Corpus were rather surprised as the machine gun was lifted from under the counter and the tell-tale sound of it spinning up was heard. The gun started to spew hot lead into the group, mowing down several of them in seconds before the clip was emptied.

 

Those who had survived had managed to dive out of the way but as they were getting up, they saw the Volt jump over the counter with Dual Cleavers in his hands instead of reloading his Gorgon Wraith. The last thing they saw was the Volt charge towards them, using Speed to boost his movements. Screams were heard as he tore them apart with his Dual Cleavers, blood and chunks of flesh littering the floor.

 

Once the slaughter was finished, the Volt walked back to the counter and jumped behind it. After reloading and putting away the Gorgon Wraith, he picked up his hat and dusted it off using his hand before carefully setting it back atop his head. He just stood there like before as though nothing had happened.

 

The other chef, the Saryn, walked into the cafeteria from the supply room and saw the remnants of the slaughter. She blinked behind her helmet before looking to the Volt. "Just so we're clear on this, we are not cooking any of that." She pointed to the bloody mess on the floor to indicate what she referring to.

I don't have words...

[Sumika1204]

I don't have words...

 

Is that good or bad?

[Spikey844]

Hmmm

Hmmm hmmm hmmm

I think Miho and Tatsuya need a 'do not disturb' sign on their door.

[JJKDrake]

Wish I had a book on arcane stuff and magic. Nothing fascinates me more than the arcane arts.

 

Don't mind me, just being wishful.

 

And be careful what you say Spikey or you might get chewed out like me. Though you haven't gone as far as I did.

Edited May 12, 2014 by JJKDrake

[Spikey844]

Did I say something? *looking innocent*

[Lady_Viper]

I still don't see what all the fuzz is about.

[SirNocturne]

Is that good or bad?

 

 

Good in the best way possible! That was amazing.

[Issun135]

Volt should said this as hr pulled out the gorgon. "all will fear my giant new gun" with the heavies voice.

[Temperance000]

Well, for those interested, this is the depressing, non-canon future of Cardinance.  Spoiler alert for the follow-up to Call of the Faithful, do not read if you are sensitive to such things.

 

                Sometimes, she hated him.

                He had arrived out of the black of space one day, not long after the Church of the Ascension first put out their call to the Tenno of the Origin System.  He came as a spy, a spy for the Lotus.  When she confronted him, he had laughed.  He never tried to deny it.

                Then, the pirate invasion.  He gave his all to save the lives of her Acolytes, to protect the Church to which he owed no allegiance.  In return, she saved him from the Void, and in the process linked their minds in the most intimate manner possible.  They knew each other’s thoughts, felt each other’s pain.

                It was the start of a friendship the likes of which she had never had, deepened further when at his urging she revisited the volumes of her lost memories.  They found that they had known each other long ago, before the Collapse changed everything.  He became her conscience, a rock to lean against when her burden was too great to bear alone.  When she slept for the first time in centuries, she did so in the bed aboard his little ship, while he stood silent watch in the cockpit.  That was the first and only time she kissed him.

                As time passed, they grew to love each other in their own way, physically separate, but never truly apart.  He with a quiet, tender, yet unyielding devotion; she with a confused mixture of longing for both dominance and companionship.  Though she made clear that her Church must always come first, he had accepted this without question.  Though his mission was over, he chose to stay.

                For a time, it seemed there might be hope for them.  When the Corpus came for her, he sent his own reinforcements to her rescue when it became clear that he himself could never reach her in time.  Instead, he stopped an even greater threat to her Church; a traitor wearing his own form.

                And then it came.  The fateful day that Mortos and Gaia announced their plans to secure the future of the Tenno, by wiping out the Grineer with the power of the Void.  She had nodded, accepting.  It was a terrible path, but the right one.  Then he had risen, saying that he could not condone this.  It was not a matter of efficacy, of Tenno lives saved, he said, but of stooping to a level at which even their worst foes would balk.  The energies of the Void were too great to be contained on such a massive scale.  Earth would burn, but so would all of Sol.  And if not?  Then the Grineer would start over, on Uranus, or Ceres.  The Corpus would see, would fear, and would begin the race to build their own Void weapons.  And the cycle of war would only continue.  He begged them to reconsider.  They would not.

                In desperation, he turned to her, pleading.  She kept silent.  It was only later that he confided in her the terrible order he had received.  Unless he could stop the Church’s plan, the Lotus had decreed that they would die.  To stop the activation of the Void weapon, Tenno would fight Tenno, and only one would stand.  Enraged at what seemed a threat, she had ordered him to leave.  He shook his head, but boarded his ship and left in silence.  She had felt his pain receded, then vanish.

                When next she saw him, he was standing before the Void weapon, facing down the Divinities themselves.  He begged them one last time to reconsider.  They would not.  So he acted.  He stopped the activation by digitizing the controlling Void Key, saying as he did that he would not be the one to fire the first shots of a civil war.  Mortos had no such compunctions; the mighty Nekros nearly ripped his soul from his body before the Lotus Tenno arrived, suppressing the Acolytes in a matter of moments.  Weak and leaning on the pedestal for support, he had pleaded with them to surrender, to cease this madness, allow the Council shout and gesticulate before subsiding again.  The Divinities refused, demanding that he return the key.  He would not.  So they hurt him.  She stood by and watched, conflicted, feeling every moment of his pain.

                The Lotus Tenno came to subdue them.  He held them back, though barely able to speak for the mental and physical agony being thrust upon him.  Finally, she stepped in.  She commanded, she pleaded, she threatened, she cajoled.  Anything to make him give up the key.  Still he held firm.

                At last, Mortos gave him the ultimatum: return the key, or die.  He would not.  He knelt at her feet, his helmet folding back to reveal his tired, tear-streaked face.  She begged him, one last time, to reconsider.  He would not.  Her Machete fell.  His last breath was wasted on her name.

                Afterwards, when the grim Tenno guards returned her to the silent derelict that had once housed the Church, there to spend eternity in solitude, she had felt his presence again.  Some part of him had fled along the link, taking refuge in her mind.  Once, her amnesia would have wiped the memory of his death from her mind, leaving her free once more.  But something had changed.  She could not forget now, because he remembered for her.

                She tried to destroy him.  More than once.  It never worked; he was a part of her now.  He never blamed her for her actions; never judged or reproached.  There was only the memory, clear and sharp as crystal, and an aching sorrow for what could have been.  So she hated him.  It was all she had left.  She hated, and she grieved.

                Cardina sat alone, remembering Temperance.   And she cried.

[thelastpwnr99]

Sorry all!  These last two days have been insane due to preparing stuff for Mother's Day...but I will fix up the errors I have with Synder the Bastard and move along.  Though today will be busy as well I'll get her done tonight.

[CosmoKnight]

Well, for those interested, this is the depressing, non-canon future of Cardinance.  Spoiler alert for the follow-up to Call of the Faithful, do not read if you are sensitive to such things.

 

                Sometimes, she hated him.

                He had arrived out of the black of space one day, not long after the Church of the Ascension first put out their call to the Tenno of the Origin System.  He came as a spy, a spy for the Lotus.  When she confronted him, he had laughed.  He never tried to deny it.

                Then, the pirate invasion.  He gave his all to save the lives of her Acolytes, to protect the Church to which he owed no allegiance.  In return, she saved him from the Void, and in the process linked their minds in the most intimate manner possible.  They knew each other’s thoughts, felt each other’s pain.

                It was the start of a friendship the likes of which she had never had, deepened further when at his urging she revisited the volumes of her lost memories.  They found that they had known each other long ago, before the Collapse changed everything.  He became her conscience, a rock to lean against when her burden was too great to bear alone.  When she slept for the first time in centuries, she did so in the bed aboard his little ship, while he stood silent watch in the cockpit.  That was the first and only time she kissed him.

                As time passed, they grew to love each other in their own way, physically separate, but never truly apart.  He with a quiet, tender, yet unyielding devotion; she with a confused mixture of longing for both dominance and companionship.  Though she made clear that her Church must always come first, he had accepted this without question.  Though his mission was over, he chose to stay.

                For a time, it seemed there might be hope for them.  When the Corpus came for her, he sent his own reinforcements to her rescue when it became clear that he himself could never reach her in time.  Instead, he stopped an even greater threat to her Church; a traitor wearing his own form.

                And then it came.  The fateful day that Mortos and Gaia announced their plans to secure the future of the Tenno, by wiping out the Grineer with the power of the Void.  She had nodded, accepting.  It was a terrible path, but the right one.  Then he had risen, saying that he could not condone this.  It was not a matter of efficacy, of Tenno lives saved, he said, but of stooping to a level at which even their worst foes would balk.  The energies of the Void were too great to be contained on such a massive scale.  Earth would burn, but so would all of Sol.  And if not?  Then the Grineer would start over, on Uranus, or Ceres.  The Corpus would see, would fear, and would begin the race to build their own Void weapons.  And the cycle of war would only continue.  He begged them to reconsider.  They would not.

                In desperation, he turned to her, pleading.  She kept silent.  It was only later that he confided in her the terrible order he had received.  Unless he could stop the Church’s plan, the Lotus had decreed that they would die.  To stop the activation of the Void weapon, Tenno would fight Tenno, and only one would stand.  Enraged at what seemed a threat, she had ordered him to leave.  He shook his head, but boarded his ship and left in silence.  She had felt his pain receded, then vanish.

                When next she saw him, he was standing before the Void weapon, facing down the Divinities themselves.  He begged them one last time to reconsider.  They would not.  So he acted.  He stopped the activation by digitizing the controlling Void Key, saying as he did that he would not be the one to fire the first shots of a civil war.  Mortos had no such compunctions; the mighty Nekros nearly ripped his soul from his body before the Lotus Tenno arrived, suppressing the Acolytes in a matter of moments.  Weak and leaning on the pedestal for support, he had pleaded with them to surrender, to cease this madness, allow the Council shout and gesticulate before subsiding again.  The Divinities refused, demanding that he return the key.  He would not.  So they hurt him.  She stood by and watched, conflicted, feeling every moment of his pain.

                The Lotus Tenno came to subdue them.  He held them back, though barely able to speak for the mental and physical agony being thrust upon him.  Finally, she stepped in.  She commanded, she pleaded, she threatened, she cajoled.  Anything to make him give up the key.  Still he held firm.

                At last, Mortos gave him the ultimatum: return the key, or die.  He would not.  He knelt at her feet, his helmet folding back to reveal his tired, tear-streaked face.  She begged him, one last time, to reconsider.  He would not.  Her Machete fell.  His last breath was wasted on her name.

                Afterwards, when the grim Tenno guards returned her to the silent derelict that had once housed the Church, there to spend eternity in solitude, she had felt his presence again.  Some part of him had fled along the link, taking refuge in her mind.  Once, her amnesia would have wiped the memory of his death from her mind, leaving her free once more.  But something had changed.  She could not forget now, because he remembered for her.

                She tried to destroy him.  More than once.  It never worked; he was a part of her now.  He never blamed her for her actions; never judged or reproached.  There was only the memory, clear and sharp as crystal, and an aching sorrow for what could have been.  So she hated him.  It was all she had left.  She hated, and she grieved.

                Cardina sat alone, remembering Temperance.   And she cried.

I don't know what to say. Not only is it great RP-writing, but it could work as a short story as is. Y'know, just replace a few pieces with RL stuff and it'll golden.

[SnaleKing]

*starts writing a follow-up*

[Sumika1204]

Well, for those interested, this is the depressing, non-canon future of Cardinance.  Spoiler alert for the follow-up to Call of the Faithful, do not read if you are sensitive to such things.

 

                Sometimes, she hated him.

                He had arrived out of the black of space one day, not long after the Church of the Ascension first put out their call to the Tenno of the Origin System.  He came as a spy, a spy for the Lotus.  When she confronted him, he had laughed.  He never tried to deny it.

                Then, the pirate invasion.  He gave his all to save the lives of her Acolytes, to protect the Church to which he owed no allegiance.  In return, she saved him from the Void, and in the process linked their minds in the most intimate manner possible.  They knew each other’s thoughts, felt each other’s pain.

                It was the start of a friendship the likes of which she had never had, deepened further when at his urging she revisited the volumes of her lost memories.  They found that they had known each other long ago, before the Collapse changed everything.  He became her conscience, a rock to lean against when her burden was too great to bear alone.  When she slept for the first time in centuries, she did so in the bed aboard his little ship, while he stood silent watch in the cockpit.  That was the first and only time she kissed him.

                As time passed, they grew to love each other in their own way, physically separate, but never truly apart.  He with a quiet, tender, yet unyielding devotion; she with a confused mixture of longing for both dominance and companionship.  Though she made clear that her Church must always come first, he had accepted this without question.  Though his mission was over, he chose to stay.

                For a time, it seemed there might be hope for them.  When the Corpus came for her, he sent his own reinforcements to her rescue when it became clear that he himself could never reach her in time.  Instead, he stopped an even greater threat to her Church; a traitor wearing his own form.

                And then it came.  The fateful day that Mortos and Gaia announced their plans to secure the future of the Tenno, by wiping out the Grineer with the power of the Void.  She had nodded, accepting.  It was a terrible path, but the right one.  Then he had risen, saying that he could not condone this.  It was not a matter of efficacy, of Tenno lives saved, he said, but of stooping to a level at which even their worst foes would balk.  The energies of the Void were too great to be contained on such a massive scale.  Earth would burn, but so would all of Sol.  And if not?  Then the Grineer would start over, on Uranus, or Ceres.  The Corpus would see, would fear, and would begin the race to build their own Void weapons.  And the cycle of war would only continue.  He begged them to reconsider.  They would not.

                In desperation, he turned to her, pleading.  She kept silent.  It was only later that he confided in her the terrible order he had received.  Unless he could stop the Church’s plan, the Lotus had decreed that they would die.  To stop the activation of the Void weapon, Tenno would fight Tenno, and only one would stand.  Enraged at what seemed a threat, she had ordered him to leave.  He shook his head, but boarded his ship and left in silence.  She had felt his pain receded, then vanish.

                When next she saw him, he was standing before the Void weapon, facing down the Divinities themselves.  He begged them one last time to reconsider.  They would not.  So he acted.  He stopped the activation by digitizing the controlling Void Key, saying as he did that he would not be the one to fire the first shots of a civil war.  Mortos had no such compunctions; the mighty Nekros nearly ripped his soul from his body before the Lotus Tenno arrived, suppressing the Acolytes in a matter of moments.  Weak and leaning on the pedestal for support, he had pleaded with them to surrender, to cease this madness, allow the Council shout and gesticulate before subsiding again.  The Divinities refused, demanding that he return the key.  He would not.  So they hurt him.  She stood by and watched, conflicted, feeling every moment of his pain.

                The Lotus Tenno came to subdue them.  He held them back, though barely able to speak for the mental and physical agony being thrust upon him.  Finally, she stepped in.  She commanded, she pleaded, she threatened, she cajoled.  Anything to make him give up the key.  Still he held firm.

                At last, Mortos gave him the ultimatum: return the key, or die.  He would not.  He knelt at her feet, his helmet folding back to reveal his tired, tear-streaked face.  She begged him, one last time, to reconsider.  He would not.  Her Machete fell.  His last breath was wasted on her name.

                Afterwards, when the grim Tenno guards returned her to the silent derelict that had once housed the Church, there to spend eternity in solitude, she had felt his presence again.  Some part of him had fled along the link, taking refuge in her mind.  Once, her amnesia would have wiped the memory of his death from her mind, leaving her free once more.  But something had changed.  She could not forget now, because he remembered for her.

                She tried to destroy him.  More than once.  It never worked; he was a part of her now.  He never blamed her for her actions; never judged or reproached.  There was only the memory, clear and sharp as crystal, and an aching sorrow for what could have been.  So she hated him.  It was all she had left.  She hated, and she grieved.

                Cardina sat alone, remembering Temperance.   And she cried.

 

[-Strayed-]

\

[Drakeardian]

...

 

*Buries own grave and lies in it*

[Temperance000]

If you think mine is depressing, just wait for Snale's follow-up.

[Sumika1204]

If you think mine is depressing, just wait for Snale's follow-up.

 

Depressing? No, I just felt sorry for Cardina and Temperance. It's a sad little story.

 

 

Except you apparently.

 

 

I guess when Snale finishes his follow-up, it's will be

 

[SnaleKing]

Done! I apologize for nothing.

 

A large, heavy tome landed with a thump, adding itself to the volumes that were already scattered about the garden. Crooked, twisting branches sagged with the burden of books, as if the pages carried more weight than their already significant mass would indicate. In the center of the meticulously organized clutter, a lone figure plucked another from the top of a swaying stack of books, brushing off the cover with a black sleeve before turning to the first dusty page. Her weary, white eyes scanned through the lines of fine blue script, absorbing information with a practised swiftness.

 

“Gods damn it,” Cardina swore as she glared at a certain baleful paragraph, then quickly flipped to the next page to ascertain her suspicions. “I have tried that before.” She soon reached the back cover of the thick book, finding several other techniques, meditations and arcane attempts that had already failed. Cardina discarded the volume in the same fashion as the rest, watching it with a detached disinterest as it tumbled haphazardly towards the distant ground, only for the flapping front cover to collide with an outstretched branch and go spinning into the blackness beneath.

 

Cardina reached for the next one even as its predecessor loudly impacted the unseen floor. She closed her eyes as she ran a hand over the grain of the well-worn front cover. Cadina knew she’d done this many times before, but how many, or what she’d learned from her efforts, was inevitably lost four days later. The growing size of her record of failed attempts boded ill for Cardina’s future success, as she could hardly read the entirety of the backlog before the beginning was lost to her ever-worsening amnesia. Time was against her.

 

The memory sat stubborn, unchanging and undesired, reminding her endlessly of the one thing she desperately tried to forget. It was only a moment, frozen like crystal in the back of her mind. His eyes gazed up at her, as tears streaked down his cheeks and wet his lips as they mouthed her name for the last time.

 

“WHO ARE YOU?” Cardina screamed into the blackness, trying to both embrace and consume the memory as her eyes welled with tears. There was... so much emotion in that moment, such painful conflict. “Why did I love you? Why did I kill you? Why... why can’t you let me forget?”

 

“Miss Cardina?” A voice cut through the gloom, and her heavy sobbing ceased instantly. “It’s Rien. A visitor is here.” Cardina slipped out of the overgrowth, sliding down and through the twisting, jagged trunks to confront the speaker. He was standing in the open entrance to the garden and wore a peculiar type of armor, thin and form-fitting. The helmet had no eye-slits, but instead large, decorative horns protruded from the sides. 

 

“I suppose I should show them around,” Cardina set a hand on Rien’s shoulder briefly as she walked past him, her fading robes trailing behind her as she strode slowly to the hanger. When she arrived, a figure was waiting, wearing a similar type of armor to Rien. However, this one was taller, with longer, curlier horns protruding from the eyeless helmet while his hooved feet clacked the floor impatiently.

 

“Hello,” Cardina smiled at the newcomer. “I am Cardina, the-” she blinked a few times, then shook her head to clear her thoughts. “the... I, ah,” her brow furrowed in concentration briefly, before her features lightened again with a smile. “Would- would you like to see my garden?”

 

Edited May 12, 2014 by SnaleKing

[Temperance000]

Dammit Snale. Even more depressing than mine, in a different kind of way. Thanks for this.