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 Willful Disregard
Omer "Obie" Ostrov
 Posted: Jun 22 2017, 02:13 PM
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by: Brock
A pristine power raced over him, sheathing his body in ancient and sacred illumination. The primordial force strengthened his spirit, leaving him exalted and resolute, and willing to die for the magic that empowered the runes.


June 22, 2017
7:55 PM


Obie's love life had been muddled from the time his author thought up his book. Inna. Allison. Allison. Inna. Back and forth Obie swung with no actual way to be with either woman. He couldn't be with Inna because of the way she was, and he couldn't be with Allison because of the way he was. And that was aside from any other issues pertaining to the women or himself.

Recently, Obie's frustration had been mounting. He stayed away from his friends more. He even isolated himself from his mother. Obie's music became heavier, darker, and louder. He practiced his sword skills more and sometimes hid away in the prologue of his book just so he could be closer to home.

Nothing helped. Not for very long. Finally, Obie had to get out, and despite his mother's protests, he went alone. When he saw her trying to spy on him with magic, he destroyed the spell and shadowed off. He didn't care one bit how worried she might have been. When he said he wanted to be alone, he meant he wanted to be alone.

Seething, Obie materialized on the very top corner of his bookshelf. Had he been on a mountain, the breeze would have felt magnificent. As it was, the air conditioning didn't circulate well in his part of the room. He should have been used to such stillness by now, but being up so high without any sort of wind blowing was strange.

Out of the corner of Obie's eye, he caught a flash of blue on the ground. From his height, it was difficult to make out the source, only that it seemed to be a person moving. Immediately, Obie's mind jumped to a woman he had briefly met once before, during the previous year's masquerade. Her outfit had been blue, and she beautiful.

Inna and Allison forgotten, Obie walked across the edge of the shelf to the other corner. The figure continued on down the side aisle, forcing Obie to turn into shadow so he could fly to the next bookshelf. The odds of this person being the same woman were slim. Why would she be in a ball gown? Obie must have been losing his mind.

Too bad he didn't care. The chance that it was her urged him forward, from Fantom territory to Anecdote territory. He avoided a flying, fiery bird. Apparently sensing Obie, the creature avoided him as well. He passed another shelf, where he flew around a couple enjoying a hot air balloon ride.

Even with his panoramic vision, Obie was still sufficiently distracted enough to lose track of the woman. (At least, he hoped it was the woman.) Puzzled but desperate to find her, Obie stopped on the next shelf over and scanned the ground for her. He didn't realize that, aside from home and garden books, it also marked the Terror's territory.
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The Headless Horseman
 Posted: Jun 24 2017, 05:59 AM
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by: Luna
Prepare yourselves the bells have tolled, shelter your weak, your young and your old. Each of you shall pay the final sum, cry for mercy, the reckoning has come.


It had been far too long since the Headless Horseman had wreaked havoc in the library. However, he had every intention of rectifying that. The violent ghost had emerged from his book and had begun roaming the Terrors' shelves. A sudden flash of movement caught the Horseman's eye. He held his jack-o-lantern head aloft as he began to search for the source.
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Omer "Obie" Ostrov
 Posted: Jun 26 2017, 09:27 AM
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by: Brock
A pristine power raced over him, sheathing his body in ancient and sacred illumination. The primordial force strengthened his spirit, leaving him exalted and resolute, and willing to die for the magic that empowered the runes.


Obie scanned the distant floor for any sign of the mystery person, but he couldn't see her anymore. Where had she gone and why? Obie was certain he had seen her, or at the very least someone who looked like her. Had she seen him when he first noticed her? Had she become aware of a shadow stalking her from the tops of the shelves? Was this her section, or was she taking refuge in it because of Obie's momentary distraction?

With a growl of frustration, Obie contemplated what to do. Going back to his book wasn't an option. If anything, his anger had only grown now. Even returning to his section risked his friends finding him. Heck, they could turn into shadows, too, so if they really wanted to find him, it wouldn't be very difficult no matter where he hid out.

Obie's exhale sounded more like a huff as he sat down cross-legged on the top of the shelf. He would wait a while to see if the woman reappeared. Obie retrieved a small pouch from his pocket and poured his runes out in front of him. Perhaps he could pass the time with a reading.
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The Headless Horseman
 Posted: Jun 27 2017, 06:15 AM
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by: Luna
Prepare yourselves the bells have tolled, shelter your weak, your young and your old. Each of you shall pay the final sum, cry for mercy, the reckoning has come.


The Headless Horseman continued to fly around the Terrors' shelves until he spotted a lone figure on top of one of them. Never one to miss an opportunity for fun, he swooped down and landed on top of the shelf as well. The sinister ghost then silently crept up behind the stranger. The Horseman then got his steed to let out a loud whinny. He hoped it would scare the stranger.
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Omer "Obie" Ostrov
 Posted: Jul 1 2017, 03:24 PM
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by: Brock
A pristine power raced over him, sheathing his body in ancient and sacred illumination. The primordial force strengthened his spirit, leaving him exalted and resolute, and willing to die for the magic that empowered the runes.


Obie had just cast the runes when a loud whinny of a horse he hadn't known was nearby startled him. He jolted and immediately cast a protective spell around himself in case the horse or its rider (if there was one) was about to harm him. As he jolted, Obie's leg knocked some of the runes out of place, rendering his reading useless. His anger revved.

Whirling around, Obie glared at the horse and its dark rider. He recognized him from a previous sword fight, and that only served to sustain his annoyance.

"Leave me in peace, for that is how I come." His determined gaze didn't waver from the pumpkin-headed spook.
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The Headless Horseman
 Posted: Jul 2 2017, 04:52 AM
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by: Luna
Prepare yourselves the bells have tolled, shelter your weak, your young and your old. Each of you shall pay the final sum, cry for mercy, the reckoning has come.


The Headless Horseman chuckled darkly as an evil grin spread across his jack-o-lantern. He was not surprised by the stranger's reaction. Outsiders generally did not like the chaos and mischief the Terrors liked to spread. "I'm afraid I cannot do that. You are in the Terrors' territory now and you will find no peace here."
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Omer "Obie" Ostrov
 Posted: Jul 3 2017, 07:21 PM
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by: Brock
A pristine power raced over him, sheathing his body in ancient and sacred illumination. The primordial force strengthened his spirit, leaving him exalted and resolute, and willing to die for the magic that empowered the runes.


He should have realized, but he hadn't. The spectre's presence didn't necessarily mean Obie had wandered into the Terror's section, though in this case it seemed like he had strayed further than he realized. How many shelves had he flown over while chasing the mystery woman?

Regardless, Obie felt no fear or concern at being in the horror books' territory. His anger, contained for now, kept all other emotions at bay. Turning from the Terror, Obie gathered his runes back into their pouch. There was no point attempting another reading while the horseman lingered around. Chances were good that the runes would only end up scattered again.

"Apparently I'll find no peace anywhere," Obie muttered in his native Gothic tongue. "Damn horse and rider." No peace in the library. No peace in his book. Certainly no peace within himself, otherwise he wouldn't have found himself in this annoying predicament to begin with.

Obie stood and spoke again in English. "I'll go elsewhere, then." He hated to leave the mystery woman behind, but he had no idea where she went or when she would return. He didn't even know if it was the same girl as before or if the person even was a girl. His frustration with that situation would linger no matter where he went, but Obie had a chance to end the matter with this horseman, and that would be one less annoyance on his plate.
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The Headless Horseman
 Posted: Jul 4 2017, 04:29 AM
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by: Luna
Prepare yourselves the bells have tolled, shelter your weak, your young and your old. Each of you shall pay the final sum, cry for mercy, the reckoning has come.


The Headless Horseman chuckled at the stranger's reaction. He had expected the fellow to freak out. Still, the dark ghost had no intentions of missing a chance for fun. "Or you could just stay here. It would be rude to leave without saying goodbye to everyone."
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Omer "Obie" Ostrov
 Posted: Jul 7 2017, 05:09 PM
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by: Brock
A pristine power raced over him, sheathing his body in ancient and sacred illumination. The primordial force strengthened his spirit, leaving him exalted and resolute, and willing to die for the magic that empowered the runes.


It took effort for Obie to refrain from rolling his eyes. There was no "everyone", and the Terror knew that good and well. He was trying to get Obie mixed up with his pals, and Obie would have no part in that.

"I'd rather leave." In his native Gothic, he added, "Goodbye."

He turned into shadow. In a split-second, Obie decided where he would go. Back to his book wasn't an option, for more reasons than one. Even the fantasy section was out of the question. But it occurred to Obie where he could go to vent some of his anger and, perhaps, return a measure of peace to his soul.

Caring little for any creatures who flew after him or near him, Obie headed directly for the non-fiction books. He had visited this particular section a number of times over the years, so he had the call numbers down. There were a few places he could go. The 909s. The 913s. The 937s. The 940s or 949s. It all depended on what subject he wanted to dive into--literally.

Today it was the 913s---the daily life of the various Gothic tribes. Obie could find the Visigoths and join their numbers for a short time. He knew he wouldn't find his father or his family. Even in Obie's own book, the history texts didn't mention King Filimer. At best, they called him ficticious or a man from legends. But today Obie wasn't looking for any of his kin. He just wanted to immerse himself in his old lifestyle.

Finding the book he wanted, Obie thought about his people and entered. In half a second, he found himself in the Europe of centuries long gone by. He took a moment to breathe in the free air, then headed for a band of people in the distance.
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The Headless Horseman
 Posted: Jul 8 2017, 04:52 AM
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by: Luna
Prepare yourselves the bells have tolled, shelter your weak, your young and your old. Each of you shall pay the final sum, cry for mercy, the reckoning has come.


An irritated expression appeared on the Headless Horseman's jack-o-lantern. He hated it when the target decided to ruin his fun. "Running away will not solve anything." The wild spectre was not about to let the shadow boy get away from him. The Horseman followed his target into a book and continued to pursue them.
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Omer "Obie" Ostrov
 Posted: Jul 10 2017, 07:22 PM
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by: Brock
A pristine power raced over him, sheathing his body in ancient and sacred illumination. The primordial force strengthened his spirit, leaving him exalted and resolute, and willing to die for the magic that empowered the runes.


Like most people, Obie's tribe wouldn't take kindly to a shadow speeding (or even floating) across the air towards them. With their spiritual beliefs added into the mix, Obie really had to be careful. So he made sure he was "mortal" again before approaching.

As he neared, some men from the tribe saw him. They pointed and shouted out a call to arms. Obie stopped in his tracks, momentarily puzzled. But as he opened his mouth to assure them he meant no harm and was, in fact, one of them, he remembered the horseman. He must have followed him into the book. Typical, and exactly why Obie hadn't headed back to his book.

Unsheathing his father's sword, Obie turned to face the Horseman. He was sick of this already. No one would leave him alone! Obie braced himself, ready to speak a spell to charge his sword so he could combat the Terror, but he paused before he uttered a syllable. He could hear his people approaching. Though he doubted they would interrupt the fight---Obie had drawn his sword, in a sense claiming the horseman as his own opponent---his people would be watching, waiting. Coming from a fantasy book based on reality, Obie couldn't remember how these true non-fiction Visigoths felt about runes and magic. He would have to refrain for now, or at the very least keep his volume to a mutter.

"I have no quarrel with you," he said to the Terror in English. With a snarl, he added in Gothic, "But I'm happy to end what you insist on beginning."
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The Headless Horseman
 Posted: Jul 11 2017, 04:22 AM
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None
by: Luna
Prepare yourselves the bells have tolled, shelter your weak, your young and your old. Each of you shall pay the final sum, cry for mercy, the reckoning has come.


The Headless Horseman chuckled at the stranger's words. He knew the fellow's sword alone would not harm him. The evil spirit was not afraid of the people who lived in this book, either. "Yet you insist on ruining my fun. That won't do at all."
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Omer "Obie" Ostrov
 Posted: Jul 15 2017, 06:59 PM
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by: Brock
A pristine power raced over him, sheathing his body in ancient and sacred illumination. The primordial force strengthened his spirit, leaving him exalted and resolute, and willing to die for the magic that empowered the runes.


Behind him, Obie caught murmurs. Everyone knew from the look of the horseman that he was not a non-fiction character, but his people couldn't guess whether he was a Terror or some other fantastical creature. A few of the Visigoths complained about fiction characters bringing their stupid war into their territory. Most, however, were pleased with the show they were sure the horseman and Obie were about to put on, and many of those were eager to jump into the fray at the first chance they could get.

Obie heard all this, but he kept his gaze solely on the horseman. "Seek your fun elsewhere," he said in English, even though he was torn over wanting to fight. On the one hand, he was too annoyed with the world to even want to bother with a fight. On the other hand, it might be the perfect solution to vent his frustrations.

Obie stared the horseman down and waited to see what his next move would be.
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The Headless Horseman
 Posted: Jul 16 2017, 05:45 AM
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None
by: Luna
Prepare yourselves the bells have tolled, shelter your weak, your young and your old. Each of you shall pay the final sum, cry for mercy, the reckoning has come.


The Headless Horseman chuckled darkly at the stranger's demand. He was always amused by those who thought they could tell him what to do. The evil ghost knew the man would be in for a rude shock. The Horseman did not take kindly to being ordered around. "I am afraid I cannot do that, not when there is already fun to be had."
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