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Topics - Jabbathejack

Pages: 1
1
Fandom / The Stranger with the Fa(M)iliar Face (Jabba x Firesblood)
« on: June 03, 2019, 04:34:41 PM »
Idryius' eyes fluttered open as he groaned softly. He was in a small, dark room, lit up by a few candles here and there. His stomach throbbed dimly, but it was a familiar pain, much like this room seemed oddly familiar, comforting.

He tried to get up, but he could not, the pain in his belly causing him to gasp softly.

"Lie still, friend."

A figure came into view, leaning over him. He was a young man, his blond hair tied back away from his face.

"Whoever did this to you nearly finished you off."

The young man was sat on a stool, crushing something with a pestle and mortar, his wrist moving in a steady rhythmn.

"Nearly."

He smiled, his blue eyes lighting up with a mischievous grin.

"Who are you?" Idryius managed to finally speak, his voice no more than a gasp; he was so cold.

"Tsarin." The young man smiled, reaching out with a pale hand to mop his brow, yet his touch was as cold as ice itself.

***

Idryius woke with a jerk, his teeth chattering with the cold. The thin blanket that had been covering him had fallen away, but he could do nothing to pull it back into place.

He was bound tightly, his wrists secured behind his back and his feet firmly lashed together. He could roll this way and that, but that was the full extent of his movement.

The wound in his gut was sharp, aggravated by the intense cold. It was similar to the one that he had taken, all those years ago, but this time it had been self inflicted. He had refused all forms of healing; they'd even had to force feed him a healing potion just to get him to survive.

You'll die of cold.

Idryius tried to blot out the voice in his head, but it was incessant, pleading at him for life, for a chance to rule their body once again.

Idryius shifted his body once again, setting his jaw so that he wouldn't shiver quite so much; he did not want to draw attention to his situation.

His crude stitches felt strained beneath his already blood stained clothes, making him wonder if the journey had torn them open once more. He had spent the majority of the last two days face down, lying over the saddle of a pack horse as they had climbed further and further up into the mountains. The journey had been excruciating, but Idryius had barely made a sound.

A few feet away, he could see the small group of figures, lying peacefully by the fire, their backs to him. Idryius understood why they would not want to see him. He was the man who looked like their son, but was not. He was the man who had taken over their son and was unable to give him back. He was their enemy.

Please. You have to say something. They can help.

No. Idryius thought to himself. He did not.

2
Realism / Beyond Elysium (Kreed x Jabba) M
« on: June 03, 2019, 04:33:19 PM »
Archive - http://archive.visionary-tales.com/beyond-elysiu-m-t18735.html

Kreed-

A silent laugh sent a puff of air from Akuma's nose, and his eyes did not meet Beckett's as his lips twitched into a smile and his head gave a single half-shake, half-tilt as he relaxed in his seat. "A more apt description would be a single finger in many pies..."

His smile softened and he focused on the grain of the table. "Picture him in a narrow kitchen, all these pies on the counter, and he's hobbling back and forth as deftly as a one-legged man can, forcefully jamming his index finger into the pies, one by one. Bam bam bam." Akuma tapped the table a couple times as though he thought it would give to his touch before resting his hand still, fingers still curled at the ready. From pinky to thumb, his fingers flexed one-by-one, then back again. His smile faded.

"I did my job", Akuma said softly. His eyes never left their original place, once on the table, now on his hand. His fingers curled slowly tighter as he watched idly. "I knew what I had to do, and I did it. I'd been tracking them... intercepted the van on the lip of the Panama Canal, near the border. They were taking the backroads and sleeping a few yards away. Their guy on watch fell asleep at the wheel."

"I turned off the engine of my car and coasted for a bit before going the rest of the way on foot. Didn't want them to hear me. Got under the vehicle and loosened all the wheels off the axles, drained the oil pan. Was too risky to slash the tires. Too loud and would make a jolt."

"Set up a tripwire and spike strips along the road where they were sleeping in case they tried to rush me," Akuma bounced his hand once, like a spider descending from the ceiling. "Popped the lock on the car, swing the door open with one arm and choke the driver with the other. I took the stash on my back, tied branches to my ankles and didn't walk in a straight line to cover my tracks."

He visibly swallowed before he looked up briefly - a flicker of a glance to Beckett then back to the table - and pulled his lips to one corner of his mouth in thought. "I was pretty good at my job."

3
Realism / Return of the Pirates (M) Jabba x Kreed
« on: June 02, 2019, 06:13:45 PM »
Archive - http://archive.visionary-tales.com/return-of-the-pirates-m-t22842.html

Ebeneezer Capley leaned over and spat a glob of phlegm over the side of the ship. He sat on the edge of the hatch, not far from the gang plank, his legs splayed out in front of him. Stretching, he groaned as he felt the tendons popping in his neck. Relaxing once more, he reached for his pipe to refill it.

Tamping down the fresh tobacco, Ebeneezer paused, frowning, his fingers hovering inches away from his flint. Was that someone approaching? Most likely one of the lads stumbling back to the ship, yet even so, Ebeneezer hauled himself to his feet and peered over the rail.

A young woman approached, illuminated by a lantern. Ebeneezer stared at her, his jaw dropping open in surprise.

"Hold up, lass." Ebeneezer found his tongue, as it became clear that the young woman was approaching their ship and no other.

She was probably a whore; certainly, no decent woman would be out at this hour alone. Not in this sort of town.

"This ain't that sort of ship."

Captain's orders. None of them were permitted to take any of the locals back to the ship. She might be pretty to look at, but he was hardly going to risk Beckett's wrath by letting himself get distracted.

He paused, letting his eyes travel up and down her bare legs. He winked and flashed a wonky grin, full of broken and stained teeth.

"I'll be off duty tomorrow, then we'll see, eh?"

4
Sci Fi / Sharpening the Rusty Blade (Firesblood x Jabba)
« on: June 02, 2019, 05:54:08 PM »
Archive - http://archive.visionary-tales.com/sharpening-the-rusty-blade-m-t20061.html

4052 dutifully followed Sabine to the mess hall. He moved to take the tray and get her breakfast for her, but before he could do so, she had already taken the tray and loaded it up. It would not do for him to try to take the tray from her, so instead, he kept silent and took up his usual position standing just beside her as she ate. He made a note to mention to her when they were alone that in public, she should let him do more for her. He needed to do the things that were expected of him, otherwise why else would she keep him around?

He tensed as the other director approached, keeping his gaze fixed at a point on the floor. Immediately, he thought of the gaps in his story, highlighted by his overseer and he wondered how long before the director came to order his interrogation to explain the abnormalities.

It was an effort to keep his breathing as slow and careful as possible. Even though their conversation focused on Shaad's display of dominance, as the director put it, 4052 kept his expression as neutral as possible.

She might have believed what she had said about Shaad's interference being at an end, but 4052 could not bring himself to believe that.

5
Fantasy / Alternative Alternative History - Jabba x Auphe (M)
« on: May 29, 2019, 02:18:12 PM »
Archive - http://archive.visionary-tales.com/alternative-alternative-history-jabba-x-auphe-m-t22781.html

Reginald dragged himself out of bed, along with the majority of the crew, barring those who had been on the night shifts. He exchanged few pleasantries with the others, merely a nod and a grunt here and there.

He washed the sleep from his eyes, hoping to banish last night's unsettling nightmares. This time, it had been the surgeon, the lower half of his face hidden by a blood stained mask as he had leaned over him, his scalpel at the ready.

Reginald grimaced and headed out into the mess hall, wordlessly taking a spare bowl and a fork as he took his seat, away from the others. He ate, the fork held in his bare left hand. It was a pretty good meal, giving him much needed energy during a day to be spent in the boiler room.

6
Fantasy / Fire the Headcannons!! (M) Moose x Jabba
« on: May 29, 2019, 02:12:05 PM »
Archive - http://archive.visionary-tales.com/fire-the-headcannons-m-moose-x-jabba-t22846.html

Quote
"But..." the merman looked confused. "You have my saw, can't you cut down the wood-plants and make a 'raft'?"

He puffed up a bit, gills flaring with his breath. "It's not like you would be lost at sea! I know the oceans."

7
Sci Fi / Welco(M)e to (M)y (M)erry (M)oment (Kreed&Jabba&Auphe)
« on: May 29, 2019, 01:27:22 PM »
Archive - http://archive.visionary-tales.com/welco-m-e-to-m-y-m-erry-m-oment-kreed-jabba-t22845.html

Quote
Kreed

As one pair of guards exited the bank section, another entered. It was difficult to say how many there were as they entered from the far end of the corridor because they walked in step. With each step they drew closer, however, it was clear that one of the beings was not a guard at all.

"We keep catching you waiting until the last minute to return to your cell, you're going to stay in there", said a male voice.

"Lose my privilege to walk up and down a prison hallway all night." It was a question, but the voice of indiscernable gender was so flat and clipped it might as well have been a cough in reply.

There followed the characteristic slap of a shock baton licking flesh, and - not so characteristically - the smell of burnt skin began to trickle down the hallway. The footsteps stumbled a little, but were quick to resume their previous pace.

"We could also reassign you to something a little more...involved."

From around the corner of Sebastian's cell, they appeared; it was a single guard with a prisoner in tow, in the tell-tale black shirt and cotton shorts. Unlike Sebastian, however, this one was alive...or so it appeared to be.

It was difficult to tell, with some species, as many of the tell-tale signs of life varied based on the race. With this one, tall but willowy, ashen lips and darkly circled white-blue eyes, it was...debatable.

They were placed adjacent to Sebastian in their own cell, in full view of one another, and the prisoner showed something vaguely resembling surprised at Sebastian's appearance before the expression disappeared. They watched, quietly, as the guard escorting them turned and left down the corridor before settling on the floor cross-legged to examine their arm. Thick, white waves fell over and in the way as they shifted their sleeve up, and with a huff, they blew their tangled hair aside to look at the bared wound. The flesh was milky white, with a slightly grey or blue tinge - where it wasn't covered heavily in tattoos. A black mark of charred skin was a stark contrast to the patch of ivory where it sat. A nasty burn from the baton...and not typical of most species. Not much to be done, anyway, from the inside of a bare cell. With a sigh, the prisoner settled into a slump, eyes curiously settling on Sebastian. Probably the ugliest one they'd seen so far.

8
Fantasy / Return to Inquisition (M) Jabba x Firesblood
« on: May 29, 2019, 03:49:38 AM »
Archive - http://archive.visionary-tales.com/return-to-inquisition-m-t21544.html

Staunton led the way up a flight of stone steps and through corridors, all the way showing not even the slightest concern of the vulnerability of showing his back to a stranger. Eventually, he paused outside a door and opened it, again holding it open for her to enter.

Inside, was a study, a fire burning in the hearth, casting a soft glow over the room. Smiling, Staunton gestured for an empty chair, inviting her to sit.

He paused by a decanter and poured two glasses of red wine, one of which he set on a small table beside her chair. Taking the other, he retreated to another chair, set beside a small writing table.

He raised his glass into a toast.
"Your health, Miss Valaria." Smiling thinly, he took a small sip, watching her for a moment before he continued.

"Initially, I was rather annoyed to hear that the young master Dufresne had left his post without orders, yet when he told me about you, I was curious."

"Do you know why he had you brought all the way out there? Away from your family? I wonder, how much do you really know of your mysterious benefactor?"

He paused as the door to his study opened and Malachi entered, standing by the door as he waited to be addressed. Staunton smiled, beckoning him forward.

"Ahh Malachi, my boy."
"My lord, I have news."

Malachi remained the perfect employee in front of Valaria, speaking quietly and professionally, casting his guest with only a quick glance before he spoke.

"Excellent." Staunton's smile widened. "Please, continue."

"The Nyari tribe headed north from here about a month ago. All information suggests that they will be difficult to track." Malachi glanced at Valaria, his expression still cold. "But not impossible."

"Thank you, Malachi." Staunton turned to Valaria. "So, there you have it, my dear. A direction and a time frame, albeit a vague one. That should, at least, provide you with some chance at finding them."

"In return, perhaps you could answer some of my questions? Eat, drink and spend the night here, if you wish. I am sure we could find you more comfortable quarters."

9
Fantasy / Scheherazade Night (M)CXIX (Jabba x Petri)
« on: May 28, 2019, 06:14:45 PM »
Archive - http://archive.visionary-tales.com/scheherazade-night-m-cxix-t22648.html

Quote
"'Twould be a fool's errand, My Lord." A low, ethereal voice reverberated from a disembodied source, and interrupted the conversation. Suddenly from thin air appeared another creature of like nature as Tuhinsunna. Perhaps Kassimir had noticed him before. He was tall and thin with a rather long beard and his hair was kept hidden under a dark green turban. He, unlike the two men who were bickering, was fully clothed in a stately thawb, the upper parts thereof embroidered with gold needlework and brocade. He carried himself in a stately manner and his voice had a booming quality and dignified air. "Lord Kassimir, is it? You may find it somewhat difficult to make an easy dispatch of Master Tuhinsunna, seeing as when you performed --" he cleared his throat "coitus with him in our master's distress, your act of kindness also resulted in the enactment of a biological covenant. Lord Tuhinsunna, if you will..." The tall djinn laid hold of Tuhinsunna's shoulder and turned the djinn around, revealing marking on his back which had not hitherto been there. "This is the fruit of ibn Ishraq's labor: the Suleimanic Rite of Ar-Rabbat. It effective binds a djinn body and soul  to the cantor. If you had not intervened my Master would have been made subject to the man from whom you delivered him, who -- I will admit did not seem too savory, but the result is that, Master Tuhinsunna," the djinn turned Tuhinsunna back around as he addressed him, "You are now bound to be this man's servant for the rest of the foreseeable future."

"That is preposterous!" Tuhinsunna drew back in horror. "Hooshmand! How dare you even suggest such a miserable curse should be laid upon me!"

"'Tis no jest, Master. In performing the rite of Ar-Rabbat, your body is his body, and all of your power is subjoined to his disposal."

A dumbfounded and bewildered look was plastered on Tuhinsunna's face as he fell back into his perch on Kassimir's bed. "How could this have happened to me of all people? Hooshmand! I am too beautiful to be a slave!"

Kassimir jumped as the voice sounded from the air itself, quickly followed by one of the men who had materialised during the bizarre events of the night before.

"Servant?" Kassimir frowned, shaking his head. "I have no need of a servant. I am no lord."

It was true that his father had been of noble birth, but the same could hardly be said about Kassimir. He doubted that his father would even have acknowledged his birth right.

Keeping his eye on the two strange men, Kassimir stooped to pick up his trousers from where he had thrown them and pulled them on.

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen. I have work to do."

10
Sci Fi / Die Feder (MxM) CathedraPetri x Jabba
« on: May 06, 2019, 07:11:40 AM »
Archive - http://archive.visionary-tales.com/r-jabbajuice-die-feder-m-x-m-18-t22606.html

"I look forward to it." Kailin smiled broadly. He was a fast learner and he'd made sure that he'd paid attention when shadowing Nadine.

The work was far from easy; he doubted that he could have found a job that was even more removed from what he was used to even if he had tried. There were certain things that Nadine had expected him to know, yet he had needed to be walked through these step by step.

The concept of money was another thing; on his home world, they used credits that were transmited through virtual devices, yet here, many transactions were conducted with paper scraps and metal disks that were called coins. The paper scraps were confusing, with strange symbols written on them. It had taken him some time to learn what these symbols meant, yet they were important, dictating the value of the paper. After a little while, he felt that he had gotten the hang of the system.

Setting out the ingredients, Kailin began the initial task of measuring out the correct amounts. Again, this was an important step, as if the proportions were incorrect then the final cookie would be imperfect.

Kailin looked up as the bell sounded, smiling as he set down the bowl and approached the counter to serve the customer.

"Good morning, Sir."

He blinked with surprise as the customer recognised him. They might comment on his unusual looks, but very few of them remembered his name, even with it written on a tag on his uniform. He recognised the young man as being a regular customer.

"Yes, that's right." Kailin paused, trying to remember what the young man usually ordered.

"Poppy seed cake?"

11
Fresh Faces / Jabba
« on: April 14, 2019, 04:10:11 AM »
Greetings and salutations.

Well, this is nice and shiny, isn't it?

My name's Jack and I'm a random from the Land of the Lamp, Wales.  Pleased to meet you.

I like writing (sometimes), hitting people with swords, trying not to be hit by people with swords and I'm learning Mandarin Chinese for a laugh.

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