RP: Another Lifetime

In the middle of St Canard Cemetery, crisp moonlight bounced off the firm round boulders.. atop the entrance way.

The city could be heard distantly all around; all the same, it was eerily peaceful. Beautiful, even. The rows and rows of the many who came before stood tall amongst long established gardens.

There, at its heart, was a great monument that housed an ancient forebear. It was delineated by a circle of thick marble pillars. Between them, in the centre of a number of recessed steps, lay the tomb itself. It's flat surface was inlaid with channels of silver, and the waist high sides covered with engravings.

They would not be resting in peace for long.

[[RETCON IN PROGRESS. All are welcome to come be on the sidelines but if you want to interfere with the action please message me first.]]

    • Scarlet

      Scarlet plummeted , nearly hitting the ground from the force of said firehose. Dripping wet and in danger of showing off more than she ever planned, she shot a fuming look at Negaduck.

      How did he EVEN…

      She bared her fangs, growling hotly, her tail lashing around behind her angrily. She did not stay wet long as her temperature caused a sudden, and notable increase in her core temperature. The water lifted off her in the form of evaporation.

      She. Was. Pissed

      But… she kept her head. Stuck in between Negaduck and Morgana… cute.

      And Negaduck was pleasantly distracted— AGAIN— Fine. She turned mid air and shot for Morgana, claws out. “I’ll just TEAR into her then!” she said with a savage excitement that gave way to a darker lust that she carried with her.

      • Queen Malicia of St. Canard
        Queen Malicia of St. Canard


        "There is no way that woman plans on walking away from this empty-handed! You honestly think she'd be so charitable as to help you with a heavy-duty spell with no benefit to herself?! Did using that black-hole device accidentally suck out your brain too?!"

        Or perhaps years of strangling had finally killed off the remaining neurons in his brain.

        Proooobably shouldn't taunt the angry drake preparing to sacrifice her. But logic was quickly sliding into a blind fear, and Malicia had begun to struggle and tug at her chains again.

        It was becoming clear now that this... this was actually the end. Sure, she had never quite trusted Negaduck on a logical level. She knew, mentally, what kind of being he was, and that turning her back on him was most unwise.

        But emotionally... and deep down, there was a part of her that really thought they'd spend a lifetime together filled with near-miss bullet wounds and strangling sessions. Just him and her, and well... all their side-dishes because monogamy is overrated but that's beside the point.

        Malicia had convinced herself that they would be stabbing at each other's hearts until the very end.

        Guess this was the very end. It just came sooner than she wanted.

        • Negaduck

          "Would you shut it," hissed Negaduck beside her, shutting off the hose at the same time. "I've got this all under contro--"

          Which was when he registered, too late, Scarlet was charging for his charging charge. Er, that being Morgana.


          Before either of them could do anything further, however, the witch completed her spell.

          Leaving her free to slam down a wave of magic that reverberated off the tomb floor and upwards like a shockwave.

          Negaduck, being closer to the ground in many ways, ducked under the ripple with no effort, but Scarlet.. Scarlet would have a harder time at it.

          Because if that energy touched even the tip of her tail, she would find her stoney composition more than a figure of speech.

          • Scarlet

            So close... Scarlet could practically feel the flesh under her claws.

            But it wasn't to be. When Morgana turned and clearly cast another spell, Scarlet tried to do her best to dive out of the way. She was agile and lithe, no doubt.

            Unfortunately proximity was not her friend at that moment. The spell clipped her foot, and with a jolt, she became a highly alluring statue.

            And gravity dropped her heavily to the ground.

            Down for the count.

            • Negaduck

              -under control. That's what he had been saying. Because clearly that was the situation was just that.

              Exchanging an appropriately malicious smile with Morgana over the fallen succubi, Negaduck stooped to pick what remained of Scarlet up.

              Could.. sort of balance her like that, with the tail acting as a tripod. How deliciously gargoyle-y.

              A lot like the statue he had commissioned to butter up Malicia long ago.

              Shaking off the thought, it was back to gloating time.

              "Miss Featherfan. Always making everything too hard--"

              A kick, This-Is-Sparta styles, to send the magazine queen backwards into the edge of the pillars. Their rapid spinning acted like a millstone, shattering the succubi into a cloud of gravel.

              Such a waste. But counterbalanced, in Negaduck terms, by the enjoyment of vicious destruction.

              "The time reversal spell is in effect," Morgana was stepping towards him. "Once the appropriate numbers of rotations are complete, none of this will remain."

              From the folds of her dress, an ancient looking dagger, handed to him.

              "Now, for the sacrifice."

              • Queen Malicia of St. Canard
                Queen Malicia of St. Canard

                Survival instincts had kicked in now. Mal was trying everything she could to escape: Trying to squeeze her large fists through the cuffs, trying to break the tomb the chains were attached to, and, finally, reduced to gnawing at the metal shackles like a wild animal and then at her own wrists.

                Chest heaving, blood pooling at the corner of her mouth where she had broken a tooth, her eyes slid up to meet Negaduck's cold, black irises.

                "You always have to win, don't you."

                • Negaduck

                  As Negaduck moved into position in the standard sacrificial stabby spot - near her head - Morgana reeled off the finer details of sealing the deal.

                  "I will cast this secondary curse embedded in the first in order to rip your timelines apart. Sort of like an anti-love spell." Catching the masked mallard's glare, she quickly revised, "Not that you would need such a thing of course. Better to dub it a... repellent."

                  They had demon nip, why not demon repellent?

                  "Her blood will spill along these channels until it forms this ancient symbol for exclusion." It.. was almost exactly the banner of a no smoking sign - a circle with a diagonal slash. "Once time resets, it will be that you are never meant to be."

                  Like someone being instructed in the art of the beer bong for the first time, Negaduck listened with wary determination.. but his gaze, really, was on Malicia.

                  As the witch backed off to the foot of the tomb to channel the necessary magic once again, his felt the cravings on the blade's handle, its weight.

                  "Ready, sweetheart?"

                  There was a cruelty to pet names at such a moment. But cruelty was Negaduck all over.

                  • Queen Malicia of St. Canard
                    Queen Malicia of St. Canard

                    "What do you think?" She spat back, not breaking eye contact with him.

                    You will look straight at me while you do this. Look at me and never forget this face.

                    "This spell is a farce." She snapped back. "There's nothing to repel. This is all just a smokescreen."

                    Gazing at him now. "There is no spell on the planet that can repel fate. One way or another... we will meet again."

                    One last effort to move. This time, just to reach out with her arm. He was just close enough for her hand to reach, and brush against his cheek affectionately.

                    "I love you, you twisted son of a bitch."

                    • Negaduck

                      "Malicia!" Hissed with paranoid glances around as if it was a dirty little secret. And it was in a way. The kind no self-respecting card-carrying villain would ever be linked to. Worse than - gasp! - a tragedic backstory!

                      Back to that word.. she had uttered it once before in his presence. In the early stages of their entanglement, half hoping it would scare him off. But what did he care? It had no effect on him; if anything he expected blind worship. There was no fear it would ever be returned.

                      Looking back, that was probably the first mistake of many.

                      But what was she thinking bringing it up now?! What a foolish think to think HE could be manipulated with such easy words. How pathetic. How loathesome. Like he hadn't learnt anything in the five years - FIVE YEARS - she had abandoned him!

                      ... long ago, he had also learnt to tell when she was lying.

                      "Malicia, you know I..."

                      Without realising how Negaduck was pressed against her in a kiss, or half kiss half bite, pain and desire and bitterness wrapped up into one.

                      When they parted after what seemed like worlds, her usually fiery hair bunched around one trembling fist.

                      "I... can't."

                      There, above her heart, in the middle of all of that, he had lodged the dagger.

                      • Queen Malicia of St. Canard
                        Queen Malicia of St. Canard

                        "See you around... Birthday Boy."

                        At some point her tail had found a nice home around his waist, where it remained even after her body went limp, and the last breath rattled from her body. The blood pooled quickly at her feet, making its way along the promised path Morgana had set out, thick and almost boiling, like dark molten lava.

                        Those piercing gold eyes of her remained fixated on him, still open, although it was clear the spitfire behind them had been snuffed out.

                        That was it. That was how it all ended for Malicia Macawber.

                        • Trevor Mallard
                          Trevor Mallard

                          He pulled her close to hold her the moment he got beside her not caring if the blood stained his vest. He sat in silence for several long minutes.

                          "I'll get you some help."

                          Trevor finally said after a bit. The seriousness of her injuries meant she needed to be attended to right away. He wasn't sure what was going on but they needed to get away from the madness in the graveyard. He did not like look of the spinning pillars as they looked dangerous. He had heard Negaduck's voice as well which meant he must have had some kind of a hand in this. He had a good feeling that he was the one who had shot her.

                          That feeling made him angry.

                          • Piper/ Jade
                            Piper/ Jade

                            "N-no... It isn't going to 'elp" she choked out, grabbing onto his sleeve. Her chest was essentially blown through and her lungs barely hanging on.

                            Her mind clicked with logic. Increased and shallow breaths as her body tried to mechanically compensate for the lack of blood and oxygen... Heart beating fast for a similar reason, and because her emotions were overtaking her. She knew she was done for, and no doctor in the world would be able to repair this kind of damage.

                            Too much to say, and her throat was filling quick with blood. She had to pick one thing. One last thing to make everything alright and good before she went to sleep.

                            Her tears sprang to life as a familiar warmth rushed through her when he embraced her. Nostalgia of better times filled her, and that characteristic sweet smile that was just so Piper crept its way onto her face.

                            "I love you..." A fact that she had studiedly set aside for offense. It seemed so silly now that it was over, and tragic that she was able to say it with such a softness right now in this dark moment.

                            Her expression switched to fear as her breathing became choked. In that moment all sense of grace was lost as her brain went into a last minute panic in effort to preserve life.

                            But it would do no good. She pulled gently on his arm as though it held some answer to her plight, and then her airless gasps stopped.

                            With her last ounce of sense she made herself close her eyes.

                            She stilled in his arms, a tiny curled up and lifeless figure.

                            • Trevor Mallard
                              Trevor Mallard

                              "I...I love you too." Trevor choked out the words as tears had started to fall. He kissed her in some vain hope that she would wake up and this was some nightmare but he knew it wasn't so. He felt his heart break as if someone had came and smashed it to pieces.

                              He said to himself as he laid Piper gently in the grass. "Bronach, Raven Goddess, I ask one more thing of you one last time. I wish to lay down my arms as the Hunter and become one of the Many. I'll give you the rest of my soul if you bring her back and I'll take her place."

                              "You ask much, Hunter. You know the consequences of dying without a soul. The risk it carries."

                              "I don't care what happens to me. Just spare her."

                              "Very well. It will be done."

                              For a brief moment there was a tiny light that radiated from his chest before disappearing. He felt the warmth leave him as he started to grow cold. The chill spread through his body before he collapsed to his side from weakness. Trevor could hear his heart pounding in his chest but it began to fade along with his breaths. He shut his eyes.

                              And saw no more.

                              • Negaduck

                                And yet there would be death. To Negaduck it was one of the few things, ironically, worth living for. The rush of power, the sweet release. So soothing and satisfying at once.

                                Or at least it was normally. Why not now?

                                Why did it feel.. wrong?

                                Rising panic and confusion interrupted by one very pleased Morgana, who had finished casting to see the final result, and was herself apparently riding the high of slaughter.

                                "Huh, I thought we had agreed you would slit her throat, to prolong the agony of-- OH!"

                                A vice like grip had seized her, shaking but unyielding, by the neck.

                                "Reverse it," Negaduck commanded. There has been a mistake. And, since I am never ever to blame, it must have been yours.

                                "It is too late," breathed the witch, although weirdly not troubled by his mounting fury. It was to be expected, given the strength of his addiction; besides, that touch would be all hers soon. All hers... "Her essence has already been spilled. Any second now, the history you shared will never have been, and will never be again."

                                Great news all round, really!

                                Except Negaduck, during this lovely expository speech, had been breathing faster to the point he was near hyperventilating. The moment he finished processing her denial, Morgana was flung against the tombstone atop Malicia's still warm body, and the dagger would find its way into her as well.

                                Not once, not with expert effect, as he at done with Malicia. Horror movies had seen less bloodshed than what was spilt in his frenzy that continued until Nega-Morgana's screeching had long died out, and the pillars had dissolved into blinding light that erupted to the stars themselves.

                                Bloodied, exhausted, Negaduck slumbed against the stone, only looking once to see whether there was any sign of Malicia there. Had she seen it? But no, her spirit had flown. Or plummeted, as the case may have been.

                                "Good doing business with you, you vile, heartless, evil wench." Was it really the last time he would see that face, feel that touch? "Next time, give yourself a bigger cut."

                                With the effect of the explosion of a sun, the energy from the tomb's whirling finally unleashed itself on history. Backwards, through bank robberies and Santa slander, past lava letdowns and robotic dances, through supernatural trails and coffee bean blunders. Leaving clutches of one demonlings then another, spilt ups and team ups, glitter bombs too many and a bookstore that just wouldn't quit.

                                Back further by volcanos aplenty, babies in blenders, hamster magic, icecream explosions and literal backstabbings; back through snoring in sidecars, Negademons in chains, hostages in museums and chainsaws to the face.

                                Until time stopped leaving Malicia Macawber on a sunny St Canardian afternoon over a decade ago, strolling down a sidewalk as sirens approached.

                                • Queen Malicia of St. Canard
                                  Queen Malicia of St. Canard

                                  A lovely moment, by which there was only one simple thought running through Malicia's mind: Shoes.

                                  Not Negaduck. Not her numerous children. Not her small handful of past lovers. Not of true love, the sensation it brought, the shattering pain of betrayal, and the numbing relief brought by death.

                                  No, all complications had unwound from one another and were long gone -- scattered to the wind of another timeline. Another lifetime.

                                  Now there was only shoes. And Mal's enjoyment thereof, as she pressed her face against the display window of the downtown St. Canard boutique.

                                  "They better have them in my size." She rumbled. "Those shoes were made for me!"

                                  • Negaduck

                                    Made for trouble, more like, which was then barreling towards her faster than a jet engine.

                                    A motorcycle had swung screeching out of the heavy peak hour traffic and onto the foot path. It was both a gaudy and horrifying thing, like it had driven off the cover of a particularly over the top death metal band's Moonlit Werebunnies Dance in Hell CD.

                                    That was nothing, however, compared to its driver, who had foresaken a helmet for an oversized fedora and the protective leathers for a billowing red and black cape.

                                    Most concerning of all was the only concern he was paying to pedestrians was now many he could run over. When he wasn't looking behind him to scoff at the police forces in reckless pursuit.

                                    "BAHAHAHA!" Negaduck whooped, quite enjoying this latest spree, especially since Darkwing Duck had not made an appearance - yet. "I'VE SEEN TOMB STONES MOVE FASTER THAN YOU LOT!"

                                    Not noticing the other heavy landmark he was tearing towards.

                                    • Queen Malicia of St. Canard
                                      Queen Malicia of St. Canard

                                      Still enraptured by the shiny shoes in the window, she ignored the approaching noise.

                                      That was, until she felt a sudden tug in her chest, directly above her heart. The sensation surprised her, and she shifted her weight, stepping slightly to the side.

                                      ...Just narrowly missing a collision with the gaudy motorcycle. The speed by which it was moving picked up the wind, causing her dress to fly up over her head, Marilyn Monroe style. Her face buried in the green fabric, she never had a chance to identify the reckless driver.

                                      Not that it really mattered. The odds of her running into the guilty party were quite low.

                                      And so, without any further thought on the subject, she straightened out her dress and headed into the shoe store...

                                      • Negaduck


                                        The bike flew past harmlessly - harmlessly if you ignore granny's crushed foot, baby choking on its exhaust and the shattering of many windows - and off down the street.

                                        There may have been a cackle of, "WATCH IT FATTY!" but hard to tell over the noise.

                                        And that was it. No rear-end (get it) collision. No scramble for control, no trail of stolen stolen gold, no battle for ownership of one warehouse home.

                                        At least, not yet.