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(no subject) [Nov. 13th, 2005|04:10 pm]

“I am required, on this occasion, to respectfully refuse your task.”

Deenoj’s long black robe ruffled quietly as he surveyed the nine members of the muggerfied council who sat in a half-ellipse behind the magnificent oaken pulpit in front of him. A slim smile gingerly crept onto his face, illuminated only by the dim candlelight which bathed the chamber in a gloomy radience. The central muggerfied exhaled sharply in annoyance, his large eyes glaring somewhere to the left of Denoj‘s feet.

“Deenoj, might I remind you that your membership of this guild relies on your obedience and ability to carry out any task set to you by this council. You can not simply choose’ to accept or refuse any missions assigned to you. Any further contempt of our wishes will be met with extreme consequence.”

He turned his gaze to fix Deenoj with his sabre-like glare.

“And once again, I must decline,” proclaimed Deenoj, “This… subject, the one who’s fate you have assigned to me, can not be killed by the usual methods. As you know I am still only a novice in this dark art and my appointment to this baberfieds termination will sureley lead only to my own. He has an unnatural aura around him. ”

“We have examined the subject’s records, Deenoj, we found no mention of anything out of the ordinary. Are you suggesting he is a Mystafied?”

“He’s not a Mystafied, , but there is something extraordinary about him. I have been following him for several days now, and there’s definitely something not right about him.

“Like the way he reads books. Most will just start at the beginning and work their way through. Occasionally people will skim-read, perhaps only picking out key chapters and events but this guy...” Deenoj paused, “...he reads in no order at all. Randomly opening to pages and staring at them before going back a few, reading, then opening to the first page, then the last, then back to the middle..

“And then theres the way he bathes. He will fill a tub full of scalding hot water before belly flopping in and screaming hysterically as his flesh boils and flies around the room like snowflakes. He has one of these every few days, and tends not to go out much after that.

“And when he eats, sirs, he never fails to get himself covered in food…

“ENOUGH!” boomed the leader of the muggerfied council, “Deenoj, never has somebody shown such disrespect to this council as you. Now you will think very carefully about your next words Deenoj. We have listened to your side of the story and are all of the opinion that you are simply a very lazy baberfied. Now you can either go out there and do the deed to which you have been assigned, or you can leave the council altogether which as you know will lead to your immediate termination.”

Each member of the council withdrew a sharp sickle-like object from their belts and raised themselves to their feet.

“Awww guys, please…” Deenoj noticed several of the council members around the far left and right of the table were advancing sideways along the side of the room, “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

Deenoj raised the hood on his cloak and left the room, mumbling profanities under his breath. He slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing around the chamber as the standing members of the muggerfied council returned to their seats. The central muggerfied lowered his hood and sighed, resting his elbow on the table and closing his eyes tightly together in frustration.

“Where the fuck did we get him from?” he asked the council.
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Order of the Clenched Fist [Nov. 6th, 2005|03:09 am]

Noxij staggered home after an evening on the tiles. He vaguely remembered gambling with a bunch of people at the pub, losing a lot of money, getting into a heated argument, mixing words with the bouncers and then being thrown out. He knew he was in trouble, and that he'd gotten in way over his head. His story started a week ago, when he'd been in the same pub, gambling with the same money he didn't have, and had wound up in a world of debt. Tonight was to be his last chance to pay up, and his plan of winning some money off some other equally twisted souls had quite obviously failed. The bottom line was that people were out for his blood, and looking to make an example of him.

Being drunk wasn't helping, but at least it gave him the impression that he was making less noise than he thought he was. The fact that he was knocking over every bin on the way wasn't intruding on his mission to get home. Then he had one of those drunk awakenings, where the mass of background noise which had been clouding your perception suddenly fades, you feel cold, and all you can hear is a quiet high pitched beep. And everything was so quiet, yet an obvious presence was around.

Noxij began to tread more carefully. Two more thin cobbled alleyways, and he'd be home free, able to lock the door and bar the windows. He crept along, but was aware of what felt like a warm breeze quickly rushing past him.

"Is... is anyone there?", He whispered. The words seemed louder than he'd imagined himself saying them. There was no answer. He felt stupid, but couldn't shake the feeling that someone was in the alley with him.

He stood for what seemed like a lifetime....

Then out of the blue came a figure wearing black silk, waving his hands and feet at Noxij. He felt the blows hitting him, yet no pain, and the only sound was that of material flapping in the air. In seconds, the figure was gone, and Noxij waited in silence, shocked. He tried to move, but realised he was rooted to the spot, and couldn't move a muscle in his body.

"You should have paid up.", a voice came from the darkness. Noxij looked around, at least where his eyes could reach, but could see nobody. He then became aware of a presence above him. His assailant was suspended from a rope right above his head, inches away from his hotspot. "There's no reason for me to remain silent any more, you are capable of controlling your fate no more."

Noxij braced himself, for he knew he was about to die. He'd heard stories about the 'Order of the Clenched Fist', and had never doubted their existence. He could feel his Hotspot swelling, and closed his eyes.

"Nighty night", said the voice, and with a quick blow to the top of Noxij's head.....

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(no subject) [Oct. 14th, 2005|08:45 pm]
Babaefied Missing Persons File 100056

Name : Jhonny

Age : 4 days

Missing : 3 years

The baberfied in question was last seen heading home from the pits, on the first day of his employment there. No trace has ever been descovered, apart from the following letter, found in Jhonny's flat on the night he died, transcribed below to aid you in your investigations.

" Dear King,

I have a problem and nobody can help me and i hope you wil. My flatmate Naggie is being very unreasonable and has asked for another rent increase. I cant afford to pay it as i already work three jobs and i still dont have enough. People tell me thet you are bad but i dont think so i think you are gud. will you please help me i think it would be best if my flatmate was ded. his name is Naggie and he lives with me at 47, Cobbleknock Lane, West Castleford. I'll wait here for you so i can tell you some more of my things which i think will make the world a better plase. Like the best invention ever wud be a shield which you can put on which means you can't hear anything, and if anybody touches you then they are ded.

Hope to hear from you very soon,

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(no subject) [Sep. 1st, 2005|12:26 am]

“Something happened to me tonight Johnny”.

It was a while before the voice in his head replied, it was an incoherent murmur that could easily have been the wind.

“I don’t know. I’m finding it quite difficult to figure out. I feel like, when I knocked him, something inside me changed. Surely you of all people must know what I’m talking about?”


“No, I don’t suppose you would. You think I’m a monster, don’t you? You think that I am losing control of myself. You think I’m lost. Well, you can think all you want, it doesn’t change anything. You and I, we’re in this together now.”

He began to chuckle to himself and glanced momentarily at his feet before returning his eyes to the lake. Beads of rain dripped through the leafy canopy above him and settled on his skin like diamonds. The moonlight bathed the area in an azure tranquillity.

“Well, it’s over now anyway. It’s over.” he washed his hand over his face and plunged into the dark water, taking a few moments for the ripples to settle. “Lets head over there into that green stuff. Yes, into the… GREEN stuff. The GREEN stuff.” he began to wade out towards a patch of algae and stopped when he was standing waist high in the centre of it.

“the…. GREEN stuff Johnny. We’re in the… GREEN stuff.” he slowly began to descend into the water until only his eyes and nose were above the surface.

“The… GREEN stuff” he gargled, staring blankly back at the shore. “The… GREEN stuff.”
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Coclkes [Aug. 20th, 2005|04:35 pm]
Cockles lies along the northeastern coast of N'kinge, the largest of the continents in the Baberfied world. It is a self sustaining mega-city set in an orange wasteland. All that can be seen from a distance is the mamouth metallic barrier which runs around the perimeter of the city, but inside the wall is a maze of alleyways, streets and plazas. The city was sectioned off into various zones much like a pie, mainly to keep the violence to a bare minimum, with each zone housing the various social classes. The only exceptions to this are the uglafied quarter which is located underground, and the mystafied quarter which is located in a time vortex near the little pub outside the Tubist basilica.

From anywhere in Cockles (except the Uglafied quarter) it is possible to see the palace which sits in the very centre of the city and is home to the King, The Official and countless thousands of Justafieds.
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(no subject) [Aug. 15th, 2005|10:18 pm]

The smoke was stinging both their eyes and their faces were blackened with soot.

"You know, it's funny how something can pass you by for your entire life simply because you don't know it's there. Then, the second somebody points it out to you, you suddenly see it everywhere. Not only that, but you start remembering all the times in the past that you saw it and didn't realise," Dijon slowly turned his head towards Geenoj, "I, for example, would have never thought you had it in you to do something like this. This is without a doubt the worst thing that you have ever done, Geenoj".

The faint hissing and popping of burnt timbers calmed the atmosphere somewhat, as did the crackling of the dozen or so small fires that were strewn around the detritus. Their flames danced in the eyes of the two Baberfieds.


"No buts... I don't want to hear any buts out of you", Dijons voice was filled with curiosity and solemnity as he turned his head back towards the carnage, "This... this is not funny Geenoj. This is not funny at all." He took a deep lung full of tobacco from the pipe he was smoking. His expression was one of deep anxiety, his eyebrows were raised to maximum elevation.

Both baberfieds stared in silence for what seemed like a lifetime.

"So... do you think he is dead?" Geenoj ventured eventually

"No I do not think he is fucking dead!" spluttered Dijon frantically "No, I think he's still very much alive. I think he's still very much buried in that pile of rubble"... he pointed his finger sharply towards the wreckage "...and I think he's probably extremeley fucking angry about having his holiday chateu blown up whilst he and the Official were still inside!" He paused for breath. "In fact, i'd say that as soon as he finds out it was you that did it, you will have the meaning of pain redefined somewhat, Geenoj"

Their conversation was interrupted by a disturbance amongst one of the larger piles of bricks. At first, this extended to nothing more than a few of the pebbles being displaced and rolling downwards, but eventually a hand, an arm and shortly an entire torso. The first figure, once completeley free of the debris, then assisted a second figure to his feet before both of them were coughing wildly whilst dusting each other down. They staggered about although dazed.

Dijon immediateley turned to run, and was banged after just three steps.

"Now, Geenoj, you answer me this." said the king "Why did I see you sprinting away from my chateu at great speed from the eastern window just seconds before this... accident occurred. Why, Geenoj."

Geenoj remained still.

"It's because you had something to do with it, didn't you Geenoj?" the king seemed very calm and methodical in his line of questioning "This was no accident, was it Geenoj. This... this was done on purpose, wasn't it?"

Geenoj remained stiller.

"This was done on purpose... and i think i know who did it. I think you do too, don't you Geenoj?"

Geenoj wrinkled his brow and beads of sweat began to form on his temples.

"Geenoj... your suffering is going to become the stuff of legend... "
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The Official [Aug. 13th, 2005|08:34 pm]
Whenever you find yourself in the presence of the Baberfied King, if you survive long enough, you will almost certainly notice his snivelling Official cowering close by, frantically scribbling down mysterious notes onto his clipboard. While the Official seems to be the only ‘personnel’ under the King’s employment, his ever presence suggests that his function is an important one.

The Official is said to have been a servant of every King that has ever lived , fuelling suggestions that he is almost certainly an Invincified. He is more human-looking than most Baberfieds, sporting a dark suit and a slightly less puckered face. As well as this, the official speaks with an accent best described as ‘nervous American’ which puts him in stark contrast with the rest of the Baberfieds whose accents, as previously mentioned, are best described as ‘drunk Glaswegian’.

Due to the nature of the Kings, of course, the Official has been completeley insane for longer than anyone cares to remember.
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The eyes of madness [Aug. 3rd, 2005|08:20 pm]

Dark, deranged eyes, painting masterpieces of demented bedlam and overpowering insanity.

The air felt warm and musky inside the dimly illuminated warehouse where, until two minutes ago, Jhonnie and Gonji had both been locked in combat. They were now entwined in a violent embrace, knuckles clenched with deadly intention, staring towards the King whose presence had become apparent in tandem with a forced throaty cough.

And Gonji’s aspect one of unnerving perseverance. The air had suddenly become very thin, the atmosphere abhorrent. It was he who broke the silence with his calm and whispered voice..

“Now… come on, lets be reasonable about this Kingsly… Jhonnie and I both entered into this of our own free will and both of us accepted the consequences… we relish the potential outcome. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. We have made a pact. A death pact. We are each others prey.”

“Are we buggery!” barked Jhonnie, whose shuddering arms were indicative that the earlier struggle was continuing more subtly now “He just jumped out and attacked me! Bang ‘im Kingsly, please, Bang ‘im! I can‘t hold him off much longer”.

The king just stared, the edges of his lips curving into a simpering grin.

“Kingsly!” continued Jhonnie “This baberfied is trying to kill me! If I let go even now he’s gonna knock me into the middle of next week! Sureley you can see that! Look at his eyes!”.

Gonji’s eyes were indeed a picture of evil, Jhonnie’s of affliction and dread. That his life was in hazard was of no consequence to his lands so-called protector, it merely served as sadistic entertainment. The king eventually raised a crooked finger towards both baberfieds, more directly towards Gonji, whose manic gaze perpetuated Jhonnies feeling of helplessness preventing him from doing anything but stare back.


The sound of a baloon bursting was accompanied with the immediate dissapearance of Gonji and the feeling of a thousand slaps against Jhonnies face. Now free of obstruction, he flopped into a gibbering mess on the ground. His ears were ringing from the banging, but he was not unaware that Kingsly had now left the scene and that he was alone in the warehouse.

Tears flowed into his bloodshot eyes and he began to sob loudly.

“No!! No!! No!!”

He could still make out Gonji’s purplish silhouette whenever he blinked his eyes, the image had burned itself onto his retina. He blinked rapidly so that the image became as clear as day, such a portrait of insanity and malice. Sweat poured down his forehead at the realisation.

“Oh no, please no! NOOO!!!” Johnnie began to drool as if a rabid thing.

He picked up a loose yet sharp piece of debris from the floor beside him and, with a piercing shriek, began to gouge out his eyes. Viscous blobs of brown ocular fluid began forming on the floor beneath him as he continued to scream and mutilate himself. Eventually he withdrew, vision now completely destroyed and yet still the face of madness stared at him from beyond the grave. He laid down his head to rest and began to suck his thumb, other hand still clutching the bloodied shard closely to his chest. He then alone, on the warehouse floor, began to whimper softly and rock back and forth.

He would see that face for the rest of his life, for he had been staring straight into the eyes of madness the moment they were silenced, and those eyes would for evermore stare back at him.
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(no subject) [May. 12th, 2005|08:27 pm]
"Come here son.. pull up a chair. My, how you've grown since I last saw you! You weren't knee high to a knocking post not five minutes ago and now, well, look at you, You're a man. How quickly things change... How quickly they become obselete."

"But enough of my sentimental old babble, how have you been? Good, good, that is reassuring. I often thought of you on my travels, often wondered how you were getting on. I wrote some poems while I was away, perhaps I can read some of them to you later? Heh, perhaps you and I could light up a few candles and share a drink or two.. I have such stories to tell you!"

"Don't look at me like that! i haven't been avoiding you! A baberfied is allowed to have a private life, you know! the community has looked after you while i've been away, so don't think you can guilt trip me because I haven't been there for you. I happen to know that Gonidje took you fishing at least three times a week, and Injoie has been teaching you how to fight. For all i know, you could probably teach your old dad a thing or two! Was that a smile? I think so..."

"I have returned to you, son, because i feared for your safety. Whilst I trust this small community to the ends of the earth, i couldn't just ignore the possibility that you might grow up with an inadequate knowledge of how things work out there. Of how dangerous the world outside this village truly is. I came to tell you about the Baberfied King. The baberfieds i set off with are now all dead, and i fear my time here is limited also. This is why I have returned to you, son, to prepare you for what lies beyond those gates and across the wastelands. One day, you will want to travel to Cockles as I did. Would you like a drink?"

"Ah, thats better. Real ale! You have grown up to be a baberfied of taste! The ales of Cockles simply have to be sampled to be believed.. i've had a few, shall we say, 'experiences' with most of them i can tell you! Now, i fear I am running out of time. I must leave this place soon before old Kingsly tracks me down. I met him, you see, atop one of the great mesas on the outskirts of Cockles during the great tubestorm. Curse the day that crown was ever made! It was the undoing of the hapless wretch that put it on, for he was imbued with a soul as black as the night. He's all wrong... those eyes.. that smile... such vivid nightmares... it's difficult for me to talk about. Perhaps if i tell you what became of my travelling companions.."

"Remember Konidje? Banged. Pure and simple. Banged out of existance. Kingsly pointed his bony finger at him and BANG! gone without a trace. Similar to the sound you might hear if a baloon were burst while you had it under your chin. I was looking straight at him while it happened... damn near blinded me and left Konidje's purple sillhouette on my retinas for a few minutes afterwards. I remember that I could not hear properly, a constant beeping was ringing in my ears, but I at least had the sense to start running, as did the rest of the party. I suppose natural instincts overcome fear in situations like that."

"While we were running, he got Jkokonie. Inflamination. All I heard to the right of me was a fizzing sound accompanied by a bright light and an intense heat. When I eventually glanced back, i could only see a black stain on the ground. The rest of the party went much the same way. Banging and inflaminating left and right, laughing insaneley as rain beat down on the ground around us, old kingsly wasn't letting up. All the while that snivelling official cowering by his side with a clipboard, taking notes. yes, thank you son, i would love another drink."

"I survived by hiding in a cluster of shrubs at the base of the mesa. I came here as soon as i knew it was safe, and in the name of all things I hope that you heed my words and remain vigilant. I must leave you now, I.. I am placing this village in danger by being here. No, I must go. Good luck my son. Good luck."
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(no subject) [May. 4th, 2005|10:44 pm]

There are not many alive today who recall with clarity the night Johnny had walked into town, and those that do are seldom inclined to describe the horror he had brought with him. He had limped through Cockles’ cobbled streets in the midst of one of the fiercest tubestorms the baberfied world had ever seen. Wind howled along dark alleyways and thunder cracked in tandem with blinding flashes of lightning. Many gave the outdoors a wide berth that night, but still Johnny had struggled on relentlessley in his higher purpose.

Eyewitness reports at the time were sketchy regarding the pink thing Johnny had been supporting under his arm that night. Those who glimpsed the hapless beast through shutters and curtains described a wretched looking creature, who wheezed and spluttered as if every step it took sapped most of what little energy it seemed to possess. Its veiny, prune like skin hung loosely in places from its fragile frame. It was slumped over uncomfortably into an unnatural and terrifying shape, its bloated naked body appearing slippery in the rain. Perhaps most disturbing of all was that most of the reports described the beast as being vaguely humanoid in appearance, some even suggesting that it was clearly of baberfied origin.

The patrons of the public house Johnny had entered that night had been taken aback by his sudden appearance, and by the rotten salty stench that accompained him. Upon entering the building he had lowered his forsaken companion onto the ground and gestured to the barkeep for several large glasses of water. The creature had gurgled and coughed with each painful breath it took, small pools of saliva forming at the edges of its lips as its red eyes scoured the faces of the crowd his presence had attracted. Lying in this well lit room, its horrid features could be defined more clearly. If truly baberfied in origin, the creature had been mutated beyond all sane recognition.

As it had slouched forward to sip the water it had been offered, the light had revealed that several fingers on each of its hands had become fused together. It was also remarked that the thing’s left arm had become fused to its chest, and that many of its features were all disproportionate to one another, but that through the deformity the creature was showing expressions comparable to fear, panic and sadness. Though it was pathetic in appearance, the crowd were not without pity for the sickness that had interrupted their nights revelling.

It was only when one of the patrons asked where Johnny had found the pitiful creature that it demonstrated intelligence beyond autonomous lumbering. Johnny had remarked that he had found it lying in the street sizzling and steaming, as if each raindrop was evaporating as soon it made contact with the creatures flesh, but that the thing had been shivering and whimpering hysterically and Johnny had been unable to walk on by.

“Th..th..the… T..t..tube”, the creature had spluttered that night, “I… I … I c..c..came from the t.. tube”.
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