I've been working a bit on a backstory to Kira, to explain a bit of her behaviour, which frankly I've got a few problems with. Anyway, I've been thinking that... well, this could be a start perhaps. I'll be adding this to the bardic contest tomorrow, but... I was sort of hoping for some comments first. Good idea? Bad idea? Utterly horrible story? Probably, but it's worth a shot at least.

Kirke is slowly striding across the soft grass. Her white fur flows softly as the wind brushes against it. Her demeanor is confident, yet there is an uncertain aura about her. Placing extra finality in her last step, she finally halts near one of the large trees in Serenwilde. The tree is big, she notes to herself. Bigger than most of the other trees surrounding it, though by far not as big as the Mother Moonhart. She sighs softly as she sits down beneath the tree to massage her sore feet, all the while her eyes scan around the tree to see if she can spot the one who is the cause for her being where she is at the moment.

Janus uses his nimble paw to brush away the branch blocking his view of Kirke. With a grin on his face almost as big as the one he has inwardly, he briskly moves all the natural barriers between him and Kirke and walks forward. "Kirke, how lovely to see you again." He says with his poisonous, alluring tone.

"The pleasure is all yours Janus." She growls back. "I had hoped that I was rid of you."

"Tsk tsk." Janus smiles as he steps closer still. "Did you already forget? Nobody ever leaves the brotherhood. Especially not..."

"Especially not me." Kirke snaps. "You think I care about your regulations anymore?"

"Ah, Kirke, Kirke. Always the fierce one weren't you?"

"Well, I didn't let you break me like you broke my sister."

"Ah, yes. Kiradawea. We'll get to her later."

"No, we won't." Kirke spits. "Why can't you just leave us alone? You no longer control her, and you most definately don't control me anymore."

"Heh." Janus chuckles, knowing full and well that Kirke does not speak the truth. "Think what you wish girl. It doesn't matter to me." Janus takes another step forward. His bright red muzzle now dangerously close to her own, pure and white.

"Get back." Kirke growls as she herself takes a step backwards, uneasy with the closeness. "I'm stronger than you remember me."

Janus chuckles loudly. "Really? You might've gotten a few unique tricks up your sleeve from your studies, but remember who taught you most of what you know of combat."

Kirke's growling mouth transforms slowly into a grin as a wicked thought seeps into her mind. "Perhaps I ought to show you then." She states, before she puts up both of her paws. The paws quickly wear and tear into the cosmic threads around her, and a gout of cosmicfire belches forth from thin air, burning into the fox furrikin and dissolving him completely. Kirke is left panting loudly, but with a proud smile on her lips, when Janus' familiar chuckle is heard nearby.

"Darling, you just fell for one of the easiest tricks in the book." Janus replies, his voice seemingly out of nowhere.

"Yeah? Well I know where you are now. Your illusions won't work twice on me." She replies as she turns around to fire another sheet of unnatural fire.

"Kirke, I am afraid I must inform you that you missed me again." Janus responds, his voice dripping with cruel mocking.

"Shut up bastard!" Kirke screams out as she fires of another blast of flames from the cosmos.

"Now Kirke..." Janus begins as he watches the third blast fly astray. "You know you aren't allowed to speak like that to your superiors. Looks like I'll have to punish you."

"Hah, punish me? How're you going to... " But Kirke can't finish, because she is suddenly hit by a powerful blast of elemental fire straight into her back, the force of the blow knocking her onto the ground.

"Like that." Janus replies as he dismisses his invisibility. With a nonchalant gaunt, he trods over Kirke's fallen body and looks down on her. "Drop the act girl. You're not dead. Not yet at least."

Kirke growls as she struggles onto her feet, her entire body protesting against the pain. "You sick monster." She says through teeth gritted in pain.

Janus sighs and takes out a vial from his pockets, before he proceeds to pour some of the contents into Kirke's mouth. Her wounds start to close immediately, and her face is no longer distorted in pain. "I am no monster Kirke." He answers, a frown clear on his face. "Why can't you understand that?"

"Don't put up that act Janus. You never did anything that served anyone other than yourself and your agenda."

"Kirke, my "agenda" is for the betterment of all furrikin, surely you can understand that?"

Kirke frowns and shakes her head. "So why can't you leave us alone? What makes us so freaking special that you need to pester us? We're content now, outside of your little game. We're happy as servants in the holy Celestines, just like we've always dreamt."

Janus sighs. "That was your dream Kirke. But is that honestly it? You are content being a submissive servant all your life?"

"Well, it sure beats being your submissive servant." Kirke growls and spits into Janus's face.

"Very well then..." Janus replies calmly as he wipes the spit from his face, before he lunges forward and wraps his paws around her neck. Kirke tries to struggle out of his grip, but her feeble mouse furrikin paws simply lack the strength. Janus maintains the grip until Kirke ceases to resist, and then eases it enough for her to breathe, but still tight enough so that he can resume strangling her if she tries anything. "Let me explain things for you in a way you understand. Right now, I've got some of my sons and daughters watching over your precious little sister. As long as you act like a nice little girl, they won't bother her, but the second you defy me like this again, they'll be over her and torture her slowly to death again and again. Yes I know, both you and your sister are among the lucky few who are granted rebirth by the fates, and that's where you get the special treatment you so desperately crave. Now, I want you to listen good and listen clearly, because I won't repeat myself. I want her back to where she belongs, but that will be a lot more difficult when otherkin keeps using her. There will be an end to that." He eases his grip enough for Kirke to answer.

"No. She's happy like this. Yeah, I have to admit that I don't like seeing her with non-furrikin but... it's not like I can just walk up to her and tell her to stop seeing other races. She doesn't even remember me anymore." Kirke looks down. "She has no idea I'm watching over her... keeping her safe from YOU and your kind."

"You forget my dear, my kind is your kind as well, and we have to stick together. Which is why you're going to help me get her back."

"NO! I am not in your control. Not anymore. I don't want us to go back there."

Janus smiles and moves one of his paws from her throat to stroke her cheek. "I know. I understand. But things are better now. I promise. Help me Kirke. We both care for your sister, but neither of us can do much alone. Help me. Please don't force me to use more violence."

Kirke growls and tries to twist her face away from Janus's caressing paw, but with no place to run, she is forced to let his touch brush against her. And just like her face submits to the tender touch, Kirke finds her unbreakable will broken by Janus's charms. "Okay... I'll help you. But you must promise me that you won't hurt her."

Janus smiles and pulls the younger furrikin into a gentle hug. "Of course not Kirke. I wouldn't dream of it." A cunning smile breaks out on Janus's face as he mentally compliments himself on his ability to manipulate. As he breaks away from the hug, the thought racing across his mind is that of how the first part of his plan now is concluded.

It looks great to me. The only issue that I have is that you may want to do a bit more of Kirke's backstory earlier on...but the fact that you didn't may be part of your plan. I think this should get an award in Bardic, but I'm not one of the judges. Even if you don't win, you could always put it down in your journal or something (IG) and then show it to people when they criticize your behavior.

Better idea than a journal would be the function known as HELP HISTORY.

Every character in Lusternia is given the capability to write a publically-viewable background and to keep his or her personal history up to date by writing regular 'chapters.' This background and the chapters must be written in-role, as they are there to be used as roleplay devices.

Don't even need to bother with Bardic (though you might as well still do so to see if you win something, since it's already been written), but the best way for it to be a personal history is to scribe it as your personal history. Then you don't have to go out of your way to "show it" to people-- it's right there for them to check out.

Well, yeah. I could both add it to her History and Journal, but there are a few reasons for why I choose not to do that. First of all, I'm not sure if I want to establish this as Canon. I might eventually find the entire concept of the story too corny/whiny/ego-centric or just plain not fitting. I like to keep my options open. And even then, Kira has absolutely no recollection of either Janus or Kirke. The story is written from Kirke's point of view, since she was prepared for the loss of memory after the portal of fate. Thus it will be far more natural to explain the story from her point of view. Especially since Kirke is trying to manipulate Kira, thus she will see a bigger picture. For the same reason, the story can't be told from Janus' point of view, since he is the real chessmaster in this game of his, which would give the reader too much information to work out from.

That's the theory behind it at least. This is first and foremost a story. If it becomes Canon as a part of Kira's background, I'll rewrite it to her POV and add it to her History, but before that... I'd like to keep my hands untied.

In that case, I say go for it. What do you have to lose? (Don't answer that. It's meant to be blind encouragement, not an actual question)

Despite the lackluster response, I'm going to try for a second chapter this month. And if I fail again... well then maybe I'll just try to write a children history next month.

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Kirke lowers the hood on her robe as she enters the quiet coral corridor on Syrinx Plaza Hotel's second floor. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the taller, fox-like furrikin sitting next to the Bombard! table. She confidently strides across the floor and takes a seat opposite him before she turns her gaze to the floor. The fox looks up at her for a short moment before he too starts to look on the floor.

The two furrikin remain sitting in silence, neither making any move to initiate contact, until the fox finally resigns and turns to face Kirke. "So... which set should we use?" He asks, and Kirke takes note that his voice is rather light. He must be younger than he appears.

Kirke lets out a loud sigh and turns to the fox. "I'll play the Supernals. You can play the Demon Lords." She states matter of factly, and she watches the fox set up the game. "You must be the one Janus wanted me to meet."

The fox nods. "I am. And you must be Kirke." He looks up from the placement of his pieces. "Father said I would meet you here."

Kirke winces slightly, but manages to compose herself and not show any apparent sign of surprise. "Father eh? I would never think that the old bastard could get a girl genuinely interested in him."

"You shouldn't speak about father like that?" The fox says as he calmly places his fourth piece. "He is a much greater man than you give him credit for."

"I figure you'd say something like that." Kirke says as she places down Japhiel, her voice showing clear contempt. "It's not like I want to be here, you know."

"Father warned me about that... and I do not understand. Our Cause is just and clear, and if we succeed, it will be for the benefit of all of our kind. Why do you resist the Cause so much?"

"Because." Kirke spits. "Your father is a bastard who ruined me and my sister."

"I see. I attack 3B. So why don't you tell me about this then? So I can understand you better."

"That's a miss. C8. And why would you care? How am I to believe that you are any better than your father."

"Hit. Try me. You won't know until you've tried." The fox flashes a cheesy grin. "Oh, and I aim for F6."

Kirke frowns inwardly as the blow hits both her and her ship. "Okay. Very well then. Let me see. Me and my sister, we grew up in Estelbar. Well, for the first few years at least. However, when I was six years old, I lost both my parents. My parents were farmers you see, and one day, the orcs raided and kidnapped both of them." She sighs as another hit lands on her ship. "We were too young to take care of ourselves, so Old Trundle had to take care of us. She only had us for a short time though, before Janus came. Heh. It's strange really. The first time I met him, I saw him as a knight in shining armour. He and Old Trundle spoke together in private for a long time, and when they were done, he had adopted both of us." Her face breaks into a slight smile as she sinks the first ship. "Gotcha."

The fox nods as he sends out another attack, which sinks Kirke's biggest ship. "I see... so he is a bastard who took you under his protective wing when you had noone."

"It's not like that!!" Kirke exclaims loudly as she orders another attack, and miss. "He used us. Sure, he gave us a home, but not out of love, but because we are so incredibly small."

"G6. And why do you say that?" The fox tilts his head quietly. "Being as small as you are is a disadvantage, isn't it? So why would he choose to raise someone with such a handicap if not out of love?"

Kirke sighs. "Miss. And I wish I could say that, but no, our small size was actually a benefit for him. You see, when you are as small as we are, you make the perfect assassin. Just think about it." Kirke stares at the fox. "Would you consider me, or someone like me, a threath? Do you think you would notice me sneaking around in the darkness? Could you possibly believe me to be your murderer?" Again, she launches an attack.

The fox shakes his head. "I will concede that point. But it was for the Cause." He grins as his attack hits home. "He has trained me in combat too, and I am his biological son."

"Good for you." Kirke frowns as her fleet starts to diminish. "I am glad to see that you handled it, but... no. What he did to Kira was wrong."

"What was so horrible that he did to her?" The fox asks, his face a mixture of amusement and puzzlement.

"He broke her." Kirke states matter of factly. "He made her dependant on others. Without will, dignity, limits. She's completely lost without help." She frowns as her opponent shows more signs of confusion. "He made her a simple servant to others. With no thought of herself, a complete lack of what matters to her. Completely destroying her ability for initiative and willpower. She's nothing but a foolish girl whose only goal is to make others happy."

"And that is bad?" Kirke winces as her third ship sinks.

"Yes, yes it is." Kirke says as she lashes out, desperate to try and gain advantage again.

The fox shakes his head as he eyes the game field. "I see. So you don't love her then?"

"What..." Kirke asks, not believing her ears.

"Well..." The fox looks up. "7D."

"Hit..." Kirke says as she looks as Raziela is blown in half.

"Looks like I win." The fox grins and stands up. "Now come. We have work to do."

Kirke sighs and stands up, obediently following after the one who just defeated her.

Whoa. Really nice writing, with the simultaneous Bombard! and argument. Though it seems I'm the only one who says anything about your work...

Meh. At least someone likes what I write. I'm not overly fond of it though as I feel that it is rushed. Which it was. I ended up with a lot less time to write it due to unfortunate circumstances. So I had to rush the ending and thus cut a bit of the backstory. But oh well... maybe I will win something this time. Like you did. Congratulations on your merit award. What'd you write for the March contest?

You can find it in my topic, "Worthy of Bardic?," which I hope it is. It'll be an outrage if my insta-haikus win something, and my epic poem doesn't.