The crown felt heavier, lower, tightening around her head and over her eyes until Lissa felt a crack, and then the world fell back into focus, another grey hallway and another set of doors. Lissa felt the symbol of authority crumble away from her body as the warmth seeped back into her shivering bones, thinking blankly of the person she'd been and the things she'd done. She was so cold. She needed to be warm.
Lissa reached for the red door as if it might have been an open flame, and as before her consciousness drifted, her memories swirling and reshaping to a different story. She wreathed herself in fire but did not burn, soaking in the energy and the warmth as it cleansed her skin. Her supplicants returned, and provided with voices once more began to make demands of her--Fight, Kill, Protect Us, Save Us, You must You Must YoU MUST
She carried a bloody knife in her hand because only she could. No one else could be expected to. She'd made so many things for them, crafted so carefully, only for them to throw them back in her face like the ungrateful children they were. Such messy rooms they made of her universe, the place where she'd chosen to share her home, but to leave it untended would only allow for all of it to rot.
Something spattered her face as she cut away from her creations--had it been blood or tears? Her hands were too large to be gentle, and she watched with pained eyes as she swept the world into ash and ruin. But it had to be done. It had to be done.
There was no other choice.
OOC
Character's name: Elizabeth "Lissa" Buckly Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link:[Journal] Character's survival stats: [Stats] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Freckly-tan skin, wavy auburn hair, brown eyes, stands at 5' 7" with strong shoulders and a little bit of holdover baby fat on her stomach and thighs. Currently wearing a tattered light blue gown made of cheap fabric, calling to mind a particular character from Game of Thrones. The dress is worn over what appears to be a comfortable sweater and jeans because nothing about Khaleesi's outfit is Canada-approved.
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 3:05 pm
Victim POV
There was everything--all of the things Cerise had experienced in her life, from her first kiss to her last breakup, the triumph of getting her bachelor's degree and the struggle of working to obtain her master's, the terror of her first encounter with the infected and the bizarreness of meeting a talking horse--condensed into one fleeting moment before it all started shrinking in on itself, taking away light and sound and memory and leaving her with the stark blankness of absolutely nothing.
She didn't know how long she had been there in that white room with nothing and no one but herself but it had already been too long. Each second dragged out agonizingly slowly, seeming like hours and minutes and days and for all she knew, they very well could have been. She felt utterly and desperately alone.
Until one day she wasn't. A door that Cerise had never noticed before--it was as white as the rest of the bare nothingness that stretched on seemingly forever--cracked open, letting in light and faint sounds. She squinted at rectangle that broke up the monotony of the rest of the room, surprised to find a figure framed within it.
"Grandma?" Cerise asked, hesitantly moving towards the door.
"What're you doin' in here, baby?" Her grandmother asked, her voice warm and rich and unlike nothing Cerise had ever heard before. "There's nothin' in here. The whole world's out there, 'cept for you."
"I don't--I don't know," Cerise replied, suddenly confused. Why was she in there? There was certainly nothing keeping her here, and the world outside the door looked much more inviting.
"Well, c'mon out. It's time to go." She held out a hand and Cerise took it gratefully, the sensation of her grandmother's smooth, dry skin against her own almost too much to bear.
She allowed her grandmother to tug her out of the white room and into the field just outside the dorms she had left what seemed like ages ago. It was warm and bright, and the sky and grass seemed almost too-blue, too-green to be real. She felt an ecstatic laugh bubbling up in her throat and let it out, the sound loud and unfamiliar. She knew these grounds, though, very well. It seemed like she had spent more time here the past few years than she had at her actual home, and she happily lead her grandmother through the winding corridors--pristine, now, or as much as they had been before the infection. They walked around campus for hours as Cerise pointed out her favorite places: the library, the student gallery, the quiet common areas that were supposed to be used for studying but were more often social hangouts. Her grandmother remained largely silent during their tour, but Cerise was too excited to notice.
Eventually they wound up back at the fields, on a little hill overlooking the campus. It was a truly gorgeous day, with singing birds and puffy clouds and plumes of black smoke as all of the buildings Cerise and her grandmother had wandered through--all of the experiences and memories Cerise had held and shared--burnt to the ground. "What?" Cerise started, surprised and heartbroken and confused as she watched the fires spread. "We were just--what happened?"
"It had to happen," Cerise's grandmother replied, shaking her head sadly. "This was inevitable."
"What?" Cerise turned to her grandmother with tears in her eyes. "Did you--did you do this?"
"It had to be done, baby," her grandmother said. "You went off to college and left me behind, after all I did to raise you after your parents passed. All the sacrifices I made so you could go into the world to forget me. Well, now I'm all you got left," she finished smugly.
"No," Cerise whispered, backing away from the small old woman. "No!" She turned and ran back towards the burning buildings, wanting to make it stop but not sure how--and it wasn't like she could make anything worse at this point. The smoke was thick and acrid, choking her as she tried to push her way into the library. The main doors were already blocked by debris but she saw another one at the other end of the building, golden and unfamiliar. She heard the rumble of the building as it threatened to collapse and threw herself through it--
And found herself in completely different surroundings. No longer was she threatened by the destruction of everything around her; now she was surrounded by subtle opulence and finer things that looked pretty, but held neither purpose nor personal meaning. Cerise looked around, stunned at the sudden change, and slowly became aware of people staring at her.
"Your highness," a man at her side inquired. He was dressed in fine silks tailored in a style that was both archaic and completely unfamiliar to her. "Are you well?"
"Yes," Cerise replied hesitantly, walking forward. Before her was a golden throne, empty, and she knew somehow that it was just waiting for her to fill it. She continued forward and took her rightful place as Queen of these unknown lands.
Time passed and she accomplished a great many things, and while they endeared her to her subjects, they also elevated her high above them. The pedestal they put her on was so great that she became untouchable to them, and them to her. People loved and respected her, but she wasn't one of them, not really. She was an ideal to them, a standard to be held to, instead of a person like they were. She could relate to each and every one of her subjects on a human level, but none of them could relate to her in turn. She was a good queen, a just queen, but somewhere along the way, she stopped being Cerise.
No one wanted Cerise, who was human and fallible; they only wanted their queen. Her accomplishments were ultimately unsatisfying to her because she had no one to truly share them with. Her reign was good for everyone else, but so very lonely for her.
Years passed and she had resigned herself to her fate, tried her best to make the most of it, and then one day she found a door in the palace that she hadn't seen before. She didn't know where it lead, but she wanted to find out. Her life had been spent in servitude of her kingdom; this, she would do for herself.
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 3:45 pm
[ RESCUER POV ]
Avery didn't remember when he had fallen asleep, it had happened rather unceremonially, leaving him dropping limply to the ground below. He felt cold, and felt like he was fading. His familiar was motionless beside him, being dragged just as he was. Lamento..he tried to grasp for the raven spirit but could not bring himself to.
The buzzing in his mind pained him, making the young reaper cry out in pain. No joy filled his being, he felt apathetic and numb. He'd tried so hard..he felt like he'd failed his sister. It was his fault they had gotten into this. The vines were trying to claim him.
The voice made him nauseous as his mind faded to black.He was struggling to hold onto what made him whole. The call of the elements weren't even enough to sustain him. His grasp on his sanity began to waver. Even as he tried to fight, to push back the natural process of life and death were natural to the reaper.
A voice.
He could hear someone, a sister perhaps? She was calling out to him although it was weak. "Emet.." He spoke softly, startled when he felt something grasp for him. It wasn't painful, unlike the vines that were dragging him. The aura around it was comforting. His fingers desperately held with an iron grip onto the only lifeline he had.
Why was this hand so important? A emptiness filled his heart as he was robbed of the knowledge. Who was he even? The reaper's mind faded into abyss as the darkness claimed him like a black fog.
OOC
HP: 30/30 Name: Avery Status: Quest Character! Faction: Reaper Subspecies/Division: Shaman - Y1 General appearance:Avery is 5'11 and is still rather on the thin and lanky side. He has black hair with icy blue eyes. He wears a black hooded sweater that has deep pockets. His dark jeans have a rip in one knee, and he wears boots over his pants. His weapon comes in the form of a spirit raven that he communes with, and allows him to harvest his fear. He has a natural affinity for the earth, and his weapon is in the form of a Raven totem that takes the shape of a raven when he strikes.
Hobo Pixi
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 3:53 pm
[ VICTIM POV ]
July felt his mind sinking, held under the veil of a sleep that which he could not wake from. Fear and panic at first made it hard to understand the rush of emotions and feelings he was experiencing. He was drowning in the sea of memories that played like a movie reel.
His precious family. He remembered his brother Emery's smile as he showed him baby Taylor, the pride he'd felt as he held the tiny girl in his arms. She wasn't his own, but he loved her just the same. Xia's warm smile had filled his heart with joy as she kissed his cheek and announced the babys name for all to hear. Then there was Clover's due date. Tyler kept telling him how excited he was for his and Clover's baby. His smile had been forced. While it was wonderful news, as the two had had trouble conceiving he felt numb. July felt guilty he could not provide his own lover like the two woman had for their own. Still he was happy, and cried tears of joy for his loved ones. He remembered going to Jay, leaning into him as he sighed. The image began to grow dim, fading away as if it was insignificant.
He felt himself fading further away. Was this the end?
Everything shifted, and a calming sense enveloped him. The blackness soothed his anxiety, and coaxed him along. He needed to understand. Moving forward deeper into the darkness, there lied in shadows three great doors. One Black, the other Blue and the last was White. Doubt filled him as he looked between each. At first he reached for the Black handle, but stopped before taking a step forward. It felt wrong. Instead he reached for the white door, and vanished inside.
[ DREAM SCENARIO: WHITE DOOR]
July was all alone, left forgotten and abandoned. He was useless, and deserved to be like this. Why would anyone want to help someone like him? Tears slid down his cheeks as he held himself, his worst fears having been realized. So he sat in his cage, staring lifelessly from bleak eyes out at the world.
One day, a voice called for him. Just when he'd believed he'd forgotten how to cry, the tears sprung anew. "Jay?!" He cried out, desperately reaching for the vision of his lover. Excitement and joy filled him as he rushed to him. The bonds of his cage were no more. The promise of freedom and salvation was being offered by the other. He would help him him..even when the world would have otherwise forsaken him. Jayson brought him away from the terrible loneliness, and showed him a world beyond his wildest imaginations.
They lived by the sea, a beautiful view across the vast ocean. Waking up to the sight brought him such immense joy, it was truly breath taking. As he moved to dress, to go down to the sands to interact with those who meandered about there was suddenly Jay. He was angry, and blocking his path. He was not allowed to leave. Instead he agreed to go back inside, perhaps to read a book and sit outside.
Before he could even reach for the book, it was torn away from him. Jay began to rip it up, his temper flaring. Tears sprung from his eyes as he began to run, fleeing to hide upstairs. He didn't understand what was wrong.
July closed his eyes, silently begging for this to stop.
[ DREAM SCENARIO: VIOLET DOOR ]
He became aware of himself again as he everything was dark once more. For a moment July wondered if he'd even opened his eyes. Turning his head, he realized he was back in the room with the doors from before. Only this time there were three different colored doors. This time they were Red, Violet and Golden. July reached for the golden door, but at the last second he grasped the Violet one and pushed the handle as he crossed the threshold.
July was meant to be a guardian, one who served those who asked of him. But who was them? He was ever told exactly what was expected of him. He had expectations forced upon him, and if he didn't live up to them he was punished severely. The demands always varied, and his job was tireless. A never ending cycle of trying to do whatever he could to please others. Finally one day, he needed just a little time to himself. The hatred that ensued was like a virus, plaguing him constantly. No matter how much he gave, it was never enough.
They called him a traitor, his generosity to all was looked down upon. He was abandoned and betrayed, left to die for his unwillingness to serve any one particular group exclusively. After everything he'd done to please the world, he did not understand why his death had been justifiable. Had he not earned a moment to himself? Was he not doing his very best to serve the people by providing for them?
July screamed, clawing violently at nothing as he pulled away from his vision. Jay's words echoed like a foggy memory, reminding him his past was not the sum of who he was.The past was in the past, he could change his future. He did not have to die serving others. July pushed violently at the ugly tainted memories of his childhood, grasping for the joy and laughter than had found it's way into his life. He clung to those parts of himself, and they made July feel whole, and more like himself.
He was aware of his surroundings, and had but one final choice before him. In the darkness there was a green door. Without hesitation, he reached for the door knob, moving forward.
There was no turning back now.
OOC
Character's name: July Slider Character's faction: Mall Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: ..:biggrinata::. BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER July is of medium build at around 5'6". He is fairly pale regardless of sun exposure. His hair is extremely thick, and is solid black. It is cut in a medium length that is fairly easy to manage, with bangs just long enough to sweep over a portion of his face. He has two distinctively different eye colors, the left one being silver while the other is a cerulean blue.
leon_a_darkangel
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The Semblance of Unity
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 5:12 pm
[Rescuer's POV]
Horace woke with a start, his heart pounding, mouth dry. His body was wracked by shivers. Was this why people kept telling him to wear sleeves in Canada? It was ******** stupid, because Jannisari ripped sleeves to shreds anyway.
They did not tell you
He jolted up off of the floor, spinning around. But the voice was inside him, reverberating in his skull louder than his weapon had ever been. It was so loud, white-blind loud, and Horace fell to his knees. Something curled around his leg, piercing his skin and the pain, for one brief, blissful second, shook his of of his stupor. Horace fought, at first.
But wouldn't it be better; wouldn't it be nicer to finally belong?
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 5:15 pm
[ RESCUER POV ]
The feeling in his head as Yuki awoke was, in a manner, familiar. He did not try to mentally fight it - he knew better - and anticipated a voice that was not the one that invaded his mind. Riley's voice had hurt him before, but nothing like what he was experiencing now. The ghost wanted to pass out again, his consciousness seeming to grow fuzzy with each word. He was granted his wish, but it was very brief.
It was the pain more than the sound that drew his attention. Even then, Yuki shifted only to look for the source. It was as frightening as it was confusing. His head throbbed just trying to stare, wanting to make sense of it. It was only seconds before he gave up and his eyes shut tightly against discomfort and nausea.
In the end, when he could hear only the loud humming in his head, the telltale feeling in his consciousness that told him that soon he would sleep again, he gave in. He didn't care anymore.
Even when he couldn't remember himself, nor why he wasn't struggling, he didn't resist.
This was fine.
OOC
Name: Yuki Faction: Halloween Suspecies: Ghost (Y2) General appearance: Reference here. HP: 50/50 [2d8 -6] (Stealing Hitsu's HP value.)
Hitsuzen
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Enoh Love
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 5:17 pm
[ RESCUER POV ]
Ripley woke up. Again. This time, much like last time, he woke up with an unmistakeable sense of irritation. He had woken up. Again. This was something to repeat to himself a few times more, his inner voice becoming more and more angry as the truth of it sunk deeper into him. This was the second time today that he had been knocked out. Perhaps even third. Each time he awoke, he was somewhere else. Perhaps Finn had it right: he was losing time, because of possession. What had he been missing? What had he been doing in his lost time? How much of it had passed?
None of these questions had answers, and that only dug further under his skin.
Suddenly, there are words. Each one bore into his brain, twisting and pressing. The pain of each syllable was too much, and black spots began to dot his vision. His mind seemed to skip, losing time, forgetting, trying to fill in the pieces - The last word was too much for him, and the blissful dark that followed was a welcome reprieve.
When he woke this time - again - it was to a slow, thumping tune. At first he thought it might have been a body hanging from the ceiling, slapping against a wall before swinging away. It was nothing more than an image conjured from a horror film, but what he looked down to see was strangely commonplace for him.
A vine, burrowing into his skin.
"No." Ripley growled, trying to reach down to pull it out. Instead, he paused. His eyes unfocused, his thoughts seemed to vibrate, and began to rattle free the truth of the situation. It had happened before, to a degree. He knew this feeling. "No!" He repeated, much weaker than he had intended it to be. Even his protests were fading. He was becoming one of them. Losing himself to the many.
Somewhere, something in him fought. A male voice that was not his own, screaming at him. A name. An age. Profession. Other names. The voice repeated these things like a desperate mantra, but with each round, he remembered less and less. The first name held no familiarity. The age and profession meant nothing. The rest were simply people that likely existed. They meant nothing to him.
Who was this him, anyway? They honestly couldn't remember.
And then it didn't matter.
OOC
Character's name: Ripley Crowell Character's faction: Hunter - Intermediate Death Character's journal link: (Somewhere) Character's survival stats: N/A BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER 5'8", slender, pale, amber eyes, white hair, constantly disapproving and/or expert level pokerface.
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 5:18 pm
[ VICTIM POV ]
Memories flashing before one's eyes was a thing that Hitsu remembered as a suggestion that you were about to die. Whether she was dreaming, or whether this was her consciousness showing her her life as her body lost the battle against survival at last she didn't know.
She could enjoy the memories, almost all of them, as pleasant reminders of the life that she had lived. People that she had cared for and remembered. Things and relationships that she couldn't get back, regardless of whether or not she awakened, because of everything that had happened.
Hitsu couldn't ever recall dreaming of doors before. Of course, one didn't always remember their dreams. She wondered what significance they held as she chose the first; beautiful, pristine white.
[ DREAM SCENARIO: WHITE DOOR ]
She couldn't remember ever feeling so trapped. So lonely.
When one of her brothers called to her, arrived to save her, she was relieved. Overjoyed to be rescued, exposed to the world. The beauty of the world that she had never been able to experience.
It was incomprehensible that her brother, either of them really, could destroy things that brought her happiness. She watched it happen time and again, until all she could feel was despair, even when she saw something that pleased her. She knew that whatever it was, it would be taken away. It wasn't right... Why would he do this?
Why...?
[ DREAM SCENARIO: VIOLET DOOR ]
Helping people had always come naturally to her. She wanted to please everyone, and she foolishly gave whatever she was capable of giving just to see someone else happy. It made her happy.
But for those that she pleased, there were others who thought that she shouldn't have. Even though she had helped the people upset with her, too. Why did they think that not everyone deserved her kindness? How were they any better than anyone else, to say who was worthy and who was not? Weren't they all just as deserving?
She didn't understand. Couldn't understand.
OOC
Character's Name: Hitsuzen Vang Character's Faction: University (Jersey 27) Character's Journal Link:Here Character's Survival Stats: Here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Reference here.
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Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 5:20 pm
Rescuer POV
When did it happen? At what point had her flames flickered out and darkness crept in to swallow her whole? Even the cold, a common thing for a dead corpse felt off, there was less then even herself in this chill, a buzzing in her mind that ranked just below the pain of looking at the abominations from the tower and the Horse of Creation. It didn’t hurt but it nagged like a needle shoved too deep that even Sammy couldn’t ignore.
They did not tell you.
The voice hit like a truck sending Sammy staggering back into a deeper darkness, one from which her thoughts couldn’t be collected. A weapon? Weapon. Her hands tried to move seeking her pendant trying to draw the artifacts power, yet she felt no movement from her body, no response in any way at all. The v oice continued to boom echoing on about an awakening and the world spun again as she plunged into the depth of unwanted rest. The next thing she felt was indeed a needle in her leg, a very large thick needle as the vine twisted around her leg digging in hard.
Flames flickered to life as she stared at the vine hauling her towards a large mass, twisted and rolling it looked familiar it looked like food. No a brain, which well, it was food but, this wasn’t a brain she would feed on. Just looking at it brought pain to her that surpassed anything else she had seen blacking her eyes out again as the flames where snuffed out.
Words, words flowed and hummed through her mind but they held no verbal meaning, they simply existed as bursts of emotion of understanding and a place in the scheme of things. She would indeed become one. Her fear would be their fear. Whatever it is that may be in the end. Something inside stirred, an image of a face screaming back at her pale with empty eyes, purple flames dancing inside them, blue runes opening across her forehead a shape that had a name, a legacy all of its own trying to get her to remember a vow a name. A person.
And then it was simply gone replaced with being one.
Victims POV Memories, Jacob didn’t talk about the past much, he didn’t care to. A family with no name, no money, no pride that gave him no foothold to climb the mountains life would place before him. A trailer, an apartment, they might look different in terms of size and value, but they never changed the people inside. The father who drank and the mother who yelled at him to pick up the slack his father left.
Lazy, worthless.
Rachel, she was not like that, she was different she was a girl in one of his classes, middle school. They had to work on a book report together, for the longest time he never had interest in school till he met her. She placed in classes above him, he wouldn’t see her again. Senior year? Yes. Then. And in college. Flickers of images passed him by. From each of them a door was formed, to the left black, ahead blue, and to the right where the last memory went, white.
DREAM SCENARIO: WHITE DOOR
He strode towards the white door choosing for a moment a path that at least tried to imply a happier time. His hand touched the door and he was swept in like a leaf on the wind.
What was time? It was a concept he had lost in a room of ghost white, nothingness seemed to stretch forever and yet it wasn’t like the fog, it was worse, the white ended somewhere a wall, he couldn’t see it. A cage he couldn’t see but knew existed all too real.
“Jacob”
Her voice was a Siren pulling him towards her without thought, the smiling blond holding out a hand with a promise that it would all be okay. Suddenly he was alive, he was free. The world was new again, grass and trees, the apple in his hand. All of it was so strong it brought tears to his eyes.
Yet the grass burned, the trees withered, and the apple rotted, everything decayed as Rachel touched it a moment after he had himself expressed joy towards it. Soon he was running, running through a world that was falling apart, a world where her very existence made everything broken and shattered.
DREAM SCENARIO: VIOLET DOOR Again he moved through a door, he scrambled for it even as the last dream shattered too terrified of Rachel to grasp what he had just seen.
Suddenly he stood in a new time a new place, it was older made of stone and glass. Medical but not modern, conversations where cut from voices, like stitched together audio made to play a different story using words from other tales. No voice was solid or the same though each face was unique and familiar.
He worked, sick would come and beg for cures, and he would cure. Sometimes it was simple, herb and time, others it was not. Blood was spilled, rituals began, science was replaced by magic, and results where varied. One might die, but they might live again a twisted husk of their former selves but they had asked him. They had said “Jacob don’t let me die,” so he did not let them die. Some had said otherwise asking to go on, their blood on his hands as he offered them a way out. Yet no one was ever happy.
People screamed that he killed for no reason, others cursed him for his cures saying he was a monster for doing simply what they asked. So he tried again and again only making things worse, directing the anger from one issue to the next never sure what it was he did wrong. He grew older and though he asked not to die, no one came to him with a cure, they left him alone among his work, his pride and joy, every job well done un-thanked and hated to die wondering what he had done wrong.
But death was not simple, no, there was a green door waiting on the other side…
Green Door Solo
Thankfully it was all but a dream, however the door of green was not, it dug at his soul, his body ached in pains he couldn’t put words too. A man of science or medicine can only work if he can explain and pass on knowledge, but this was beyond that.
His hand touched the knob and the memories came with a fresh wave of pain. He was dead, consumed, twisted, and he was ready to accept this fate that he was done for that he wouldn’t live any longer as himself, no instead he would live as something new, he would become a legacy. Slowly instructions trickled through, to infect, to harvest, feed, and gather. Memories would fuel him, you are not yet complete. It all conflicted with the last remains of self he still had. The feeling of being ripped apart, pried away from something like wood under the bite of a crowbar.
The sense of self floated aimlessly circling if that was possible trying to find a physical form a point from which to reference all others. Slowly the vines crept in, once a terror they became a relief as they twisted around to create a shell, the shape of a hunched figure roughly in size and shape of Jacob Thatch, though nothing to distinguish him. Slowly he moved forward, vines snapping away and tying together to create ‘feet’ a shambling pile of vines rolling over themselves like green waves as he pushed towards a pale hand poking from the wall.
Long tendrils of green reached up eager to brush away the vines, to see something below only to find the pale eyeless face of the undying creature who had thrown him into a car. Who had driven madly through the city screaming at the beast chasing them swearing she’d keep him safe. She wasn’t one of the infected she was something else something else that had tried to save him
Slowly the wall of vines relented giving up the girl inside them to him, her body limp and weak, she already looked dead yet a part of him knew this was how she was meant to be. He turned to the stairs of the building moving silently through crowds of other figures like himself delivering her farther and farther down as vine after vine shriveled up and fell away the farther down he went. At last he reached the floor shadows lingering just outside the reach of his form, any further and he wasn’t sure he would exist anymore, physical or otherwise. He turned his back on the strange girl climbing back to the towers top, back where he had some sense of self, even if it was one that surely would fade soon. At least he had shape there and a chance to make some form of peace before he was gone.
OOC Jacob Thatch
HP: 50/50 Character's name: Jacob Thatch Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: HERE to search up your character and link to their bio! Make sure to plug in your character's ID. BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERJacob Day 0 Usually looks kind of irritated or bored, stands 5’11 skinny, tries to dress nice given the situation.
OOC Sammy
Name: Samantha “Sammy” Lee Faction: Halloween Student Suspecies/Division: Undead (Class Warrior favorite colors black purple green…) General appearance: Sup? standing at 5’7 the ghoul rocks a dark black jacket rolled at the sleeves trimmed with red. She looks like some military brat with a burne right arm of bones Her eyes don’t exist, they’re empty sockets filled with flickering purple flames. She also carries This The weapon looks like a gold pendant off her hip until the artifact is summoned HP: 48/50
HERE YOU SHOULD QUOTE ANYONE YOU ARE TALKING TO
QUOTE MORE PEOPLE IF YOU ARE TALKING OT THEM
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 5:26 pm
[Rescuer POV]
It was a darkness that was suddenly snapped free of moments later. Moments? It felt like far more time had passed. Mea coughed and shivered while her ears bounced and she tried to move but every nerve in her body was screaming "No", including her head. In fact, it was more like a constant scream somewhere in her head that made her head hurt and the bubbly personality she normally had fall dormant.
Her mind felt like a filing cabinet with fingers pouring through everything inside like paper. Memories and thoughts and she tugged at her hair. "Hnnn..." How was a pain like this even possible?
AAAAAAAH! Her mind screamed as the words filled it and she tugged at her ears tightly with her eyes clenched tightly shut. Were they even truly words? "...secret weapon?" She repeated it but grabbed her ears more tightly again. What was she listening to? It felt worse than insanity. Not that there was much time to really fathom anything as darkness found her again.
Thump.
Her ears twitched.
Thump.
A dull pain, something at the edge of her mind.
Thump.
"Aaaah-" The pain had moved into sharpness and her eyes flashed into vision again as she stared at her leg. "..." There was a tug and she turned, biting onto the ground to try to keep herself there and her arms scrambled. "Not these vines again!!" Her body remembered and she felt the surge inside of movement and cringed at it.
Everything felt green and her body spun as she was unable to keep hold. Once or twice her vision caught the movement above her but she had to tear herself away and stare at the ground. Despite her cries the only thing in her mind was the repeating message which was blurring away from words and into a white noise humming in her ears which she hated.
Struggling for herself she could feel her body, her presence - her everything being pulled deeper into something... more? It had to be more. Here, they were here. They?.
A core of her shook and the screaming inside was her own voice. Don't let this happen, you're Mea, Alamea... you know that. The voice was growing dimmer but the shuffling motion was in her mind again, this time trying to pack it all away. "Mea..." She said her name gently before the pounding of the hum drove it all away.
It was silent.
It was only them now. They were here. That was all that had been or ever was.
OOC VICTIM
Character's name: Kaethus Lazaris Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link: [ #130 ] Character's survival stats: View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER22 years old, 5'10'' with long brown hair and blue eyes. Wearing his jumpsuit with the sleeves tied around his waist, white tanktop showing. A joker, full of himself but jumps into things and doesn't back down. Occasionally a dumbass. Criminal background mostly in pick-pocketing and shoplifting. HP: 50/50
OOC RESCUER
Name: Alamea ( "Mea" ) Faction: Student Suspecies/Division: Monster / Mouryou General appearance: 4'11 girl with long white hair, red rabbit ears pointed down. Bright pink eyes. HP: 50/50
Quote:
kuumeii
Snarky Hunter
Offline
The Semblance of Unity
Predestined Victim
Offline
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 5:33 pm
[Dream Scenario: BLUE DOOR]
Dazs knew this world. He had made it from the backs of his hands, had helped it rise. It was his in the same way that a child was their parents'. Independent, but forever connected. His blood had become their streams, his body their hills. He was everything. And, like a father, he must protect it.
How could he protect his world against itself?
He chose, then, those that needed to protect, that found themselves grieving for the lost trees, sobbing over destruction. Dazs watched them fight, and lose, and win, and never end. Was it good enough? In the end, had he really mattered at all?
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 5:46 pm
[Victim POV]
Warmth. Better than what he could have gotten with an electric blanket even! That was what Kaethus felt as he slept. An encompassing feeling surrounded him while his mind played back memories.
His mother and father were there, and his big brother too again with both eyes. It was a snapshot in time of his childhood and Kaethus felt the warmth intensify. That childhood had been a happy one for him as he recalled. Even with the fights, the punishments there was so much love that existed there in the recesses of his mind that maybe he'd since forgotten...
The snapshots were like frozen events in time. When he learned to ride a bike and fell off. Sneaking treats with his big brother there to grab them. Getting caught and having to sit in the corner. Slowly moving like a slideshow through those memories until...
The warmth was hot now and his mind was covered in an angry, orange glow as he cringed. Not this one! His mind begged and pleased and shoved it away as if the fast forward button had been pushed. Was that his first kiss? Date? Drink? It was too fast but stopped abruptly.
The sound made his stomach sick thinking back to the darkness and their brief escape to the outside world... Where all this s**t had started. But that had been only a nightmare, right?
Slowly the warmth receded as did the slideshow, filling his mind with doors rather than pictures. While Kaethus knew his body must still be asleep, as it felt sluggish and useless like when he was hungover, this was also another reality where his mind could see with himself in it. Only it was more of a surreal reality that moved with colors rather than shapes. Among the colors there he was drawn towards one.
Blue. It was supposed to be a calming color after all.
OOC VICTIM
Character's name: Kaethus Lazaris Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link: [ #130 ] Character's survival stats: View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER22 years old, 5'10'' with long brown hair and blue eyes. Wearing his jumpsuit with the sleeves tied around his waist, white tanktop showing. A joker, full of himself but jumps into things and doesn't back down. Occasionally a dumbass. Criminal background mostly in pick-pocketing and shoplifting. HP: 50/50
Quote:
kuumeii
Snarky Hunter
Offline
Enoh Love
Offline
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 5:48 pm
[ DREAM SCENARIO: BLUE DOOR ]
Even in her dreams, Corey was working. There was something familiar about what she was seeing though, and it only took her a moment to realize that they weren't just random events conjured by her unconscious mind: they were memories. Her memories. The day their world ended. The way the students had flocked to her, panicked but hopeful. She had lost many in the first days, and the numbers, though they declined, stayed fairly steady over the next few weeks. In the end, she had been left with thirty-eight. Thirty-eight, out of thousands. It had not been ideal, but it had been enough - even that small number was better than nothing.
She remembered focusing on them and their wellbeing, instead of her own. Corey created a new family for herself, to prevent herself from recalling that she had a life outside of them, and before this. With those thirty-eight people, she didn't need to think about her Mother, single and hard-working. Or her young brother, just about to begin high school. Caroline had always been her Mother. Charlie and Liam had always been her baby brothers. The rest of them had become uncles, cousins, siblings, friends. It was easier that way.
It had been the only way, in the end.
The doors were new, though. She had never recalled seeing anything like them before. She stared at them, at a loss as to their meaning. Without much of a thought, she reached out to the blue door, feeling the compulsion to enter through it.
She was a God. This world was hers. She shaped it. She created the jobs, arranged the materials, organized the daily events. At first, it had ran perfectly. A well-oiled machine that she became increasingly proud of. Sure, they weren't perfect. They made mistakes. In the end, they always did the right thing, as per her wishes.
Then she noticed, the little mistakes became more frequent. The apologies became less sincere. The tasks that needed to be done, were left half-finished, and soon even incomplete. Fighting began to break out. It began to spin out of control, erupting into absolute chaos. Destroying what she had worked so hard to create.
The betrayal of her people tore at her. Had she done the right thing, letting them have all their free will?
Did she do something wrong?
OOC
Character's name: Corey Lane Character's faction: University - LEAD Character's journal link: [X] Character's survival stats: 2D10-6 / 100HP BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER See Avatar
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 5:54 pm
[ RESCUER POV ]
Koray woke up and instantly wished he hadn't. Holy Jack it was cold...he shivered violently as he curled up. He didn't do well with cold, unlike his northern cousins he was a warm water snake thank you very much...He felt himself fade.
The vines came to tuck him in it seemed...oh that was nice...
Had the door even opened? Regardless of whether he felt himself push it or if it happened by itself he was thrown into it and instantly hurled into a world of colors. It shifted and turned and he could see things he liked pushing themselves forward as they were dumped out into it. Quotes of movies filled his ears and he watched as it seemed to compile into something else. A sphere?
No. A world.
As he reached to the sphere he was suddenly moved from staring at this new world and had become a part of it. "This is?" A hand moved to touch but moved through it. All of those thoughts were swirled together but he was yet just an observer of his own creation.
"Is this like that Sims game or whatever?" His voice echoed as he moved through it. The images were wispy and unclear but the emotion could be felt as he walked at a slow pace. Lives. There were so many lives here, moving among each other at such a quick pace he could barely see them. For a brief moment he felt it, the happiness that swept over him as his body drifted back to see his world in entirety.
Futile.
The word rang in his head as his mind moved in a frenzied fast-forward and the happiness dwindled and Kaethus felt the overbearing sense of confusion, loss, obsession, power and... death? A chill moved through him and his hands moved out. "Stop!" He cried to it. "Stop, make it stop so I can help!"
Greed. Fear. Lust.
Faces began to appear among the emotions as it moved at a pace he could barely cope with. Was that Aaron? Judas? Monica? ...Boss? Were they even here? Could they be here? A pain was in his chest as it seized and he threw what he could to them.
Desperation. Starvation. Loss.
Kaethus moved his hands and tried to grab at the world to make it stop, feeling himself strain at it. Each emotion was like an arrow to his heart and as the lights of his world began to go out the dull apathy arose to take over the sharpness of those arrows.
Death.
A darkness was approaching like a rolling ocean around him. Ice cold to the touch as the once shining sphere of images continued onward, even as he began to wade. "Stop it, let me help it!" He called as his head was splashed over with water and he coughed.
This wasn't supposed to happen!
The water consumed him and he felt the ice in his heart while his thoughts raged. There was nothing here, only darkness. That last of the lights on his world were out now, weren't they? What had he done? Had it really gone by so quickly that he could do nothing?
Through the water his eyes focused and he watched, waiting for the lights. Even as he was sinking further into his sea of desperation his eyes were looking and his heart trying to reach out.
What sort of god was he if things had gotten so out of control like this?
OOC VICTIM
Character's name: Kaethus Lazaris Character's faction: Prison Character's journal link: [ #130 ] Character's survival stats: View BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER22 years old, 5'10'' with long brown hair and blue eyes. Wearing his jumpsuit with the sleeves tied around his waist, white tanktop showing. A joker, full of himself but jumps into things and doesn't back down. Occasionally a dumbass. Criminal background mostly in pick-pocketing and shoplifting. HP: 50/50
