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xoxomenai rolled 1 100-sided dice:
91
Total: 91 (1-100)
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 Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 2:27 pm
This was it. Whatever the Clan of Conquest were hiding, Faustus felt in his very core they would find it here. As he stepped into the dark portal though, he wondered just why it was the other horsemen here seemed so oblivious to them. After all, Amarus had went so far as to climb a stone pillar without having so much as an eye batted towards her; much less being reprimanded, or seized and punished. The attendants had made it very clear they were to be on their best behavior. It made sense that such a cold, definite warning would bring with it dire consequences, but all he had seen thus far was a bunch of lotus flowers and paper screens.
The area was rather chilly and damp, seeming to spiral deep into the underground. Wherever it led, must be a place deep beneath the temple. Faustus’s wings cast a soft, warm glow over the narrow walls, illuminating a strange pattern. The demon paused in his tracks for a closer inspection.
They appeared to be some sort of drawing, carved and drawn in a pale, almost incandescent ink. Figures gathered around a tall spire … others launched what appeared to be arrows towards their enemies, while their comrades unleashed plagues. All were dressed in robes, with a rather elaborate pattern, much like the horsemen Faustus had seen walking about. He studied the pattern for a moment, chewing his lip in thought. Hadn’t he seen a spire when he had first arrived in the Clan’s lands?? … Not to mention the fact that the island itself boasted some rather steep cliffs. Faussi’s hand moved down the strange symbols, settling across the image of a round world. It didn’t look to be Halloween, it was shaped all wrong, too smooth on the surface and … what was that strange, round disc off from it?? … He had heard rumors and stories in his family from youth. Could it be … could this be Earth?? …
Something seized in him suddenly. A sickly feeling that coiled in the demon’s stomach. The flames of his wings began to flicker to a toxic green. Faussi glanced down the tunnel. Amarus and Olivia were nowhere in sight. They must have ventured deeper in already. Carefully he made his way forward, lurching as another pang of nausea ran through him. Ugh, what was this?? … He took a few more steps, and felt his hands begin to tingle and burn.
Something must be down here, he realized. Something powerful, just like Amarus had mentioned earlier.
Quelling his nausea, the boil began forward, slowly and carefully working his way deeper into the depths. As he neared the bottom, a low humming began, echoing and fading around him before emanating again. The nausea seemed to wash over him in waves now, twisting his stomach into knots before easing and starting all over again. A soft, pale glow lit the patterned walls, and stepping forward Faustus found himself on the cliff-face of a large alcove. Ahead, a bright, pale light swirled and flowed, stretching high into the ground above him. He stared in a moment of awe.
This was raw FEAR.
A moment later a scream ripped from the demon’s throat.
“A-HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” Faustus cried out. A fresh wave of nausea and pain washed over him, far worse than any he had encountered thus far. His body seized up, his bright orange eyes shrinking to little more than crimson pinpricks. Behind him, his the flames of his orifice flickered and whooshed before bursting with a deathly white-hot aura as a steady hum filled the air. His veins burned within him, pulsing with a rhythm that almost seemed to mimic the aura before him. He realized a moment too late, the reason all this unmanned FEAR was gathered in this place. It was flowing, building itself up … a tingling spread through his fingers as they suddenly dissipated into a white mist, swirling into the air to be caught up in the light. The humming became louder, and with it his hands began to dissolve.
NO! This couldn’t be happening!!!
Faustus watched his form flicker. He could no longer feel his hands at all, having been lost to the stream of FEAR. It seemed to have an appetite, that was only growing with everything it absorbed. Painfully, he took a step back, only to fall back as his leg sank, his foot disappearing in another misty swirl.
Jackdammit, he had to focus!! He had to get out of this somehow. He refused to die here, not like this. Not in a world he barely knew, without the friends he’d met, or the soft orange sky of Halloween. He simply couldn’t go without saying goodbye to his family, his pets, his … who?? … it was growing hard to think. He could feel his essence fading, the hum all around him growing stronger with the pain, he just wanted to …
A memory came to him. Echoing back from somewhere deep within his conscious. It felt so warm …
" ... And what do you want to do when you become a great demon, Faustus??" the teacher leaned close and smiled to him kindly. The skull-beaded strap around her thin spectacles dangled in the air slightly as they slid a bit down her nose. The small boil‘s attention caught, and taken aback by her sudden question he blushed at first, unsure how to reply. On the wall behind her hung an article from the Halloween Town Gazette. It's headline read, 'FEAR AND YOU: PREDICTIONS OF A FEAR CRISIS'. The boil looked back to his teacher, then the article, and back again.
Courage flowed through him, as certain as the fiery FEAR that flowed in his veins. A small clawed hand slammed before the teacher's face as he rose with a determined stare.
"I want to find a way to use our FEAR, for the good of all of Halloween!!!"
Faustus’s voice echoed softly through the cavern now, repeating those same words in a broken and pained voice. The strong sound of humming suddenly ceased, replaced by what the demon faintly thought to be a hiss as he was suddenly and quite violently thrust backwards. Barely conscious, he didn’t know how much of him was left, or if he even still existed, as he was expelled to crumple in a heap across the shrine floor at the top of the underground entrance.
That had been a narrow escape indeed.
{{Entering and Exiting - Word Count: 1085 OTL}}
Face your demons In case you guys want to read my wall of text OTL
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keiifuu rolled 1 100-sided dice:
28
Total: 28 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 3:25 pm
??? ORP 21- 40: You feel lightheaded, dizzy, everything begins to swim, and you try to grab something to steady yourself. The strange buzzing noise is louder now, practically blasting your ears. You swear you can hear it chanting.
Further and further into the abyss, further and further and --- how far did it go?
Curiosity welled in his gut, thick and sprawling and drenched in fear. The Púca liked land, open space, a place to run. This lair far beneath the Temple of the Nine Dragons was a far cry from somewhere like that. He'd been to the place itself once before, though how he'd overlooked the gaping maw that led here last time was beyond him. His ears folded back, sharp and quivering against the black of his hair, tail curling uneasily back and forth to the absence of sound and the absence of his herd as well. The drab stone slabs were uneven beneath his bare feet, cold to the touch and damp as well. It was nearly fascinating to him, but not fascinating enough that it overwhelmed the entirety of his nervousness for replacement of intrigue. But still he continued on, one foot after another, down and down and downdowndown into the darkness ---
The air seemed to vibrate, pulsate around him, and Fallow jerked upwards like a horse that wanted to rear without two extra legs to help. Thick coils of nervousness seized him, stopping him for a long moment - just long enough to notice all of the carvings on the stone and the walls. "Hmmmmmmm." The sound caved from his mouth, and Fallow danced from side to side in a nervous show of fascination and nervousness, fear and intrigue. Chills spread up his spine like a disease, sinking into his blood flow and infecting him with cold. It reminded him of the unease that he so strongly associated with the carving in the temple; the one of the Imperial Majesty. Only these had good reason to give him new fear. Fear and respect and awe and -- was this what the Conquest Clan truly was?
Every carving, every depiction was like a systematic warfare against humanity. A planned and flawless work of art unleashed against a different world, just the same as smoke unleashed from the incense sticks. This was their culture. The part of it that wasn't seen by them. Was this what they wrote about in their scrolls? A breakdown of how to properly plan out plague and hellfire? Fallow shuddered and moved quicker, his steps hasty and slipping and fumbling over the uneven stone. His gut nearly tore itself in two, pulsating sickeningly with different reactions to the things he'd just seen. His mind whispered to learnknowunderstandmoremoremore in a manner near to begging, longing, pleading, but instinct snarled at him to run instead.
His tail curled uneasily back and forth, and Fallow glanced up, as though to memorize them all again, when --
Pain.
The Púca stopped dead in his tracks as the air around him grew thick and vibrated with Fear. The uneven, damp stones did little to give his feet hold however, and slid even though his upper body had all but froze, driving the monster to the ground and making a loud and snapping noise as he landed sharply on his hip. Sweat beaded at the back of his neck, thick nausea winding into his stomach and crawling like bony fingers up his throat --
And then he saw it.
That.
The Glyph was something like out of a faraway fairytale, and the waves were almost physical in how they felt. Fallow's ears pulsed and swarmed with the buzzing noise, drowning out his thoughts in a sheer, singular-note swept through with Fear and drenched in chaos. And out of it came the chanting, the voices. Like a steady and monotonous beat, calm and systematic and --- chantinghauntingchantingmakeitstop. The monster keened a high and shallow sound, whistling a hiss through his teeth as though trying to will the chanting away, but the sound swallowed him whole.
Dizzy and lightheaded, Fallow scrambled at the damp stone in an attempt to yank himself away from the pit. The room spun in nauseous circles around him, and this was not the sort chaos he liked. But then, this was not chaos at all. Fear swelled within his belly, potent and stinking of sweat and salt and runrunrun.
Keening again, Fallow pushed his head into the damp stone slab as though to ward away the feverish lightheadedness he now felt.
Perhaps from now on, he would stay above the ground level of the Conquest Isle, where they were more interested in staring disdainfully at his feet than trying to split his head open with their runes and chanting and <********, he needed to get out of here now.
word count: 733.
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kuumeii rolled 1 100-sided dice:
31
Total: 31 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 3:28 pm
It was clearly not a kitchen.
In fact, this room created such a whirl of emotion and pressure over Alamea that it was the exact opposite of how a kitchen would make her feel. Dark, cold, empty... Such a difference to the warmth and colorful scents of a pot over fire and not at all what the rabbit had intended to find.
The temple itself had made her feel curious in the way of such old and distinct architecture - all of those feelings had fallen into a solemn anguish and she nearly tripped against the dampened stone. It had been after her small altercation with the scroll attendant that she had even bothered to come back down to the ground level. Curiosity had gotten the better of her and in one of her hunger fits she had delved into the musty door in a hopeful daze. What a mistake that had been.
Huff, huff.
Her breathing was labored and she strained to keep it quiet while her body swung into a nearby rock formation which she groped for in frantic, futile clasps. Finally she managed to cling desperately to the slimy surface of a stalagmite and swung both arms around it into a hug.
"Ahhh!" She let out a wail of frustration. If she could clasp her ears any tighter against her head they would be protruding into the ghoul's mouth. Bleeding was too light of a word to even begin to describe what her ears felt like - such a pain was unknown to her.
"Nn?" A sound of confusion released itself from her clenched teeth and both her eyes opened reluctantly. Voices? How could there be voices here? A low, rumbling hum of many coming together in a harmony. Singing - no - chanting. The Mouryou let out another wail in frustration and banged her forehead back into the rock formation to quell the pain rippling through her ears.
How she wished to tear them off now, curse their sensitivity. A tentative hand moved towards them and ripped at the fur and she groaned, shaking her head wildly from side to side. It was as if her head was beginning to split into two from the waves of sound washing over them again and again like a flood.
She had to get out of here, and quickly, but that was easier said than done. Taking a step back from her steadfast comfort she took a few steps forward, clinging to her ears.
Where was the way out?!
Word Count: 422
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Syusaki rolled 1 100-sided dice:
93
Total: 93 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 3:31 pm
Dev rather enjoyed the Conquest clan. She couldn’t say she would be able to stand living with the horsemen, but she could definitely appreciate their culture and customs. Her favorite aspect of the isle was the intricate designs and architecture of the isle’s buildings. They were beautiful, vastly different from the ruins scattered around her homeland. The ruins were built with cold, grey stone and incorporated overlapping shapes and swirls. While the art was more colorful, the idiosyncrasies of the Conquest horsemen’s designs still caught her eye more so, but she wondered if it was because she had grown accustomed to the repeating shapes while she had only just discovered Conquest art.
She hoped it wasn’t incredibly rude to run her hands over the engravings carved into the wood. While the cu sith was content with textbook learning, she also wanted to experience things with all of her senses whenever possible. Sound. Touch. Sight. Smell. The basic senses were essential to soaking in her surroundings. This she remembered from her pack when they took her out to hunt.
But out of the corner of her eye a dash of black stood out against the rest of the temple. Her ears twitched as she was overcome with a bursting sense of curiosity to step through the portal. Dev turned to look at her friends, wondering if she should inform them about the door’s presence or go through it herself to investigate and report her findings back to them, but she found most of them had already disappeared. Confusion flickered in her eyes before she decided to pass through the door. Perhaps they had found and gone through it already.
A hand lightly brushed against the stone wall as Dev descended the stairs. She visibly shuddered the deeper she trekked, her fingers brushing over carvings depicting various imagery as her steps echoed against the cold steps. The ghoul could sense the FEAR, flowing and moving like a wave. The realization made her almost shudder again. It was like it was breathing, alive. An overwhelming blast of FEAR stopped Dev in her tracks. Her ears pressed against her skull. Her eyes squeezed shut as tightly as they could. Her hand pressed against the wall as she used it for support. She wanted to move forward, but found that she couldn’t. Something was preventing her. It was the FEAR. Dev’s other hand clutched a fistful of fabric as she felt her body fill with pain.
She wheezed and wrenched her eyes open. What was happening? Her mind attempted to make sense of her situation, but found herself victim to the foreign FEAR instead. Her hand trembled as she attempted to cup her head. Everything hurt so much. Her eyes darted everywhere before finally settling on the glow emanating beneath her. Eyes widened further. Deep below her was a set of symbols she vaguely recognized to be glyphs. She let out a low whine when she took in the markings’ familiarity. They were Horsemen glyphs, of course. They buzz quietly at first, but quickly rise in volume until they are roaring in her ears. Dev keeps her eyes closed as if she could ignore her circumstances and pretend she was someplace else, but the agony was too much.
Vaguely, Dev could feel her hands curling into weak fists in a vain attempt to escape. Instead she felt herself become even more rooted to her spot. Nae…Nae…Ah want tae go ba… She hissed when she felt her form flicker. Nae. Another weak cry echoed in her mind. Again, she tore her eyes open and wriggled, but it was the extent of her movement. A howl escaped her throat when she noticed her hands began to flicker in and out. No! This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t. Dismayed, she managed to hold her hands in front of her so she could watch it continuously fade in and out. It didn’t take long for the cu sith to realize that her feet were also beginning to flicker. She let out another whine. She didn’t want it to end like this. This was a horrible ending. She wasn’t going to disappear into eternity. She wasn’t. She refused.
Her eyes snapped open and she realized she was back in her own body, safe and still whole. Taking slow, deep breaths, Dev tentatively brought up her arms to double-check she was indeed solid again. It was only then she noticed how exhausted she suddenly felt. Her arms felt like dead weight, and she let them listlessly drop to her sides. She took a moment to lean her shoulder against the wall to catch her breath for a few minutes. Once she had recuperated enough energy, she reluctantly got up and trudged up the stairs. Her arms still hung by her sides, never once reaching up to lightly brush against the engravings on the walls. Dev didn’t even look at them. She didn’t want to.
word count: 824
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keiifuu rolled 1 100-sided dice:
45
Total: 45 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 5:57 pm
??? ORP 41 - 60: As the room's Fear overwhelms you, you see strange flickers of images: Four Clans members walking into the room, a ceremony, a leading figure walking to the center of the room and -
Fallow swallowed back bile and pushed himself back onto his knees, nails biting into the cold slabs of rock for support. He could still feel the pure Fear radiating in pulses and nauseating waves, drowning him, soaking him, burning him through like it was going to eat him alive and swallow him whole. It felt as though moving had become less of an option and more of a daydream, and Púca's tail twitched and swept across the uneven slabs, wet and damp and rolling in nervousness. There was a thickness in the air, a miasma that wasn't seen but felt instead. Fallow nearly wanted to lift his hands and claw at his ears in an attempt to stop the wretched buzzing, but he couldn't lift a finger, let alone lift a hand. Hissing and keening, the monster bent his head between his shoulders and tried to breathe, eyes closing to will away the sight of the pulsating Glyph.
And then --
Chanting.
A clansmen walking a room.
Haunting.
A ceremony being performed.
Hurting.
A leader in elegant silk robes, in the center of the room, and --
Fallow wrenched his head upwards and opened his eyes, the color of the underground bright and nauseating and spinning all at once. Just what were these disdainful, well-cultured, long-robed horsemen up to when they weren't trying to tell everyone off with their eyes alone? Keening quietly, Fallow lifted himself to his feet, ignoring the way his feet seemed to be on the ceiling and ceiling seemed to be floating away. Stumbling a bit, the Púca managed a few steps back from where he'd come and rumbled in nausea and deep set determination to get the hell out of here like most of the others had smartly decided to. Of course... well, that was easier said than done, when his body felt like it were being crushed by the weight of Fear and chewed away bit by bit as time went on, longer and longer, like the ticking of a clock, or a timer counting down.
word count: 343
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keiifuu rolled 1 100-sided dice:
9
Total: 9 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 6:40 pm
??? ORP 1-20: The Fear waves are overwhelming! You collapse on the ground, but as you look down, you swear you can see something: several symbols all glowing an angry red pointing outwards from the main runes in the center.
For every two steps he managed to take, he had to halt and stumble one backwards in pain. And by now, he was sure he was the only one still stuck in this miserable, dark, damp, fear-filled place. Thinking that he might just make it out of the miasma, Fallow's head wrenched to the side as another wave of nausea came, raising bile into the back of his mouth and making him bite his tongue hard enough to bleed. <********> He was barely even aware of the way his legs caved beneath him until pain split like fire fro his knees where they'd landed hard on the ground. Bending over, the Púca retched, quivering from head to toe and soaked in sweat.
I want to run, The sound of his own thoughts seemed so far away, runfleerunhelppleaserun.
When there came an ebb in between the pulses and waves, the Púca hissed out a low note of pain and cracked open his eyes, staring down into -- into what? Fallow keened again, louder this time, staring in what could have been fascination had he not been in pain at the angry red symbols on the ground, glowing just as brightly as his markings did. They pointed outwards from the Glyph like beautiful and deadly haunting things, pulsating an angry red that made Fallow nauseous again. Shuddering, the Púca pushed himself away as best he could, crawling on hands and knees until he could get back on his feet.
Get away.
The words were like fire in his mind,
Get out.
word count: 263.
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Appeal rolled 1 100-sided dice:
91
Total: 91 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 6:48 pm
Lucien had visited the Temple of Nine Dragons and it hadn't been an entirely pleasant visit. The company had been great but the idea that he couldn't look at the scrolls on the walls, when they were sitting there in plain view, had just been too much. It made no sense and it frustrated the boil to no end! He just wanted to look at them, he wasn't going to break them or anything like that (although Lucien really couldn't promise such things). He may not be able to promise such things but he'd make the best effort not to, really he would. He didn't get the chance to make such an effort though and although Jack had been the best company for the time, minus any possibly bird loving, he hadn't left the temple on very good terms.
Last time he may not have been as quiet as he should have but this time was different. Lucien walked quietly, and minus the seven times he nearly fell and crashed into various (probably breakable) valuables he had been as quiet as an afternoon breeze. He moved swiftly and although not as soon as he would have done had he not nearly crashed into as many things as he nearly did, he had found his way to something strange. It was a black portal, a door of some kind! He didn't remember this from when he was at the temple earlier and it was sort of strange looking! Then again, how had he got here again? Oh right, some strange door in a tree.
He knew where the door in the tree lead otherwise he wouldn't be in here in the first place, but where did this lead? Oh the horror, oh the curiosity! It was too great for a simple spirit like Lucien to ignore and before he knew it he was face to face with a set of stairs that descended somewhere that Lucien had no idea where to but was more than eager to find out. It wasn't anything fancy, just simple stone slabs that paved the descent. Each foot hitting a new slab, Lucien felt a shiver run up his spine from the cool feeling each slab provided his bare foot. Not just cool, but wet now. It didn't seem to connect right in Lucien's mind and slowly he began to slow down until finally he stopped.
It was weird and soon Lucien's blue eyes began to look around him. He wasn't in the temple anymore and from what it seemed to be he wasn't even on the Conquest Isle anymore. The ornate feeling that Lucien adored so much had all but vanished and been replaced with nothing other than plain, boring and rather cold stone slabs. There was a small hint of hesitation on Lucien's face as he realized maybe this wasn't the best of his ideas. He was clearly somewhere he shouldn't be but the temptation and wonder of what could possibly be at the bottom of the stairs was too great for Lucien. He didn't seem to mind so much that he shouldn't be here, they shouldn't put scrolls on the wall and then not expect someone to want to have a closer look at them! Hmph! Yes, that would do just nicely.
He began to pursue the mystery of this place once again, his eyes soon fascinated and locked onto the walls of all things. There were no clouds there like when he had first been brought to this place but instead of clouds covering the sky there were images covering the walls. They were covered in imagery of plague, hellfire, arrows, and other graphic depictions of something that wasn't all that clear to Lucien. Maybe that should have stopped him, but instead if fed his curiosity further. Further enough that soon he began to feel something ominous, something familiar to him yet different.
It was Fear, a strange pulsating aura that Lucien couldn't describe. If nothing had stopped him before, this should have. He ignored it, thought about it mildly until finally a minute later he reached the end of the alcove and then it did, it stopped him. It wasn't anything like it had been a minute ago. No, this was way more. It was overwhelming and although Lucien tried he could not take even a step further. It felt familiar but at the same time it was completely different, completely foreign. He wobbled, feeling both dizzy and nauseous at the same time while a strange mix of pain and agony began to make its toll on him. He could barely see the Four Clan glyphs that seemed to buzz around him with a life of their own but he could hear it. It buzzed and it buzzed all around him, getting louder and louder.
He felt panic, a familiar feeling of that time during the Death Trial when he was trapped inside the glass cage. His entire consciousness began to beg and squirm at the thought and plead, oh it plead. He didn't want to feel like that again, although it hadn't been reality it had been real. He could still remember it, he could recall the pain and the torment so clearly. The curiosity had gotten the better of him but now the air spirit was filled with regret. He shouldn't have come here, he really shouldn't have come here. Scrolls or not, he should have seen the door and then just kept walking. He should have felt the strange change and turned back, he should have seen the walls and left. It should have been enough.
The panic he had felt was settling when he realized that his form was flickering and that it was beginning to become drawn toward some source that was unknown to Lucien. His hands seemed to be the first victim and then as if some sort of cruel joke was being played it was his feet that that went next. He knew this overwhelming feeling of worry and anxiety, he had felt it before. This time he knew it wouldn't be the same, he wasn't going to be changed into a weapon. No, instead he'd be just gone. He would vanish completely if he didn't get out of here. Instead of an air spirit he would become a real ghost, not just a racial title but an nonexistent shell of a previous life.
He fought and fought until he finally managed to take a step back. It was the step he needed and although it continued to pull and pull at him he knew that he could no longer stay here. He had to get out of here, he had to get back to the temple. He couldn't abandon everything above this, he couldn't let it win. He wouldn't let it happen to him, he had to get out of here and tell Israfel how he felt. He couldn't go like this, not like this. He struggled and he squirmed, falling back onto his behind until he was crawling away. Cold and wet slabs of stones he had walked on to get down here were now the weight he pleaded with to pull himself up and away from whatever this place was. Slowly, but surely, and not quite sure how, he made it out. Whatever was down there, Lucien was certain he didn't want to become any part of it.
Words: 1230
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keiifuu rolled 1 100-sided dice:
35
Total: 35 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 6:51 pm
??? ORP 21- 40: You feel lightheaded, dizzy, everything begins to swim, and you try to grab something to steady yourself. The strange buzzing noise is louder now, practically blasting your ears. You swear you can hear it chanting.
Fallow had managed to stumble his way to his feet, a sour and rotten taste in the back of his throat. His tail lashed from side to side, and the markings on his body seemed to glow and pulse in an erratic manner, nearly in time with the haunting pulsations that filled the cavern to the brim. Can do this, he thought to himself in minor irritation, <******** hell, I will do this. But still the chanting came, a melody like a funeral march that he couldn't drown out. The Púca continued to keen as he took slow, agonizing steps back from where he'd come, slowing and stopping every few seconds to lean his head into the slick cold stone and will away the swell and storm within his head as though he'd bashed it through something hard and not likely to break. He couldn't think straight, couldn't breathe, and gods just how far away was the opening again? He'd come all the way down here, he could sure as hell get back out too.
Or... try. Fallow hissed between his teeth and bent over, retching again as the sounds around him grew louder and louder still, systematic and haunting. Not chaos, not even close. And hell, how was one supposed to stand it at all? Did clansmen actually come down here? The stench of Fear in the air and the pulse of the Glyph made him retch again.
He sure as hell hoped not. Because once he got back to the entrance, he was never coming near this temple again.
word count: 266.
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nekoluch rolled 1 100-sided dice:
41
Total: 41 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 6:53 pm
It was inevitable that eventually Levi would visit the Temple of the Nine Dragons. As one who had always been interested in the history of various dragon kin, the tatzelwurm found it to be completely essential to her visit at the conquest isle. So, on day three of her stay there with those of conquest, Levi made her way to the temple and entered.
Approaching the suspiciously perfect stairs, Levi felt a pull to go downward. The more intellectual bit that randomly appeared in the back of her mind told her this was likely an area where she might not be so welcomed... but curiousity and something else was getting the best of her. Adventure ahead? She hoped this wasn't going to get her or her peers into any trouble with the horsemen.
As the ghoul descended, the visual feel of her surrounds was becoming less ornamental and refined and a bit more rustic and primal. It felt like some underground cave deep underneath the spot of the temple up on the surface. Such a constrast between what she found here and the serene displays of the Temple.
The further don Levi went, the more she sensed something like a moth to a flame.
Only- was there something alive down here? As if she had her ear to the body of a creature, there was a beat of a sort in the air; a pulse. The walls now were lined with drawings but not the same sort of artistry as seen in the Temple. These were ... older? Perhaps. There weren't on fabric banners or carved into wooden beams- it was just a utensil to stone. From what Levi could dechiper from the imagery, it was a battle.
Or a massacre.
One side looked like the horsemen and the other- human? They were being attacked and effected in various ways which led to their demise. Had this been a scene of something from the past? ... or was this something they hoped to achieve in the future?... Levi continued on, but it only took another moment for her to find herself at an opening. At that point, something else was certainly taking over. Levi felt it in the very fibres of her being. She wouldn't close her eyes, despite a powerful push to do so, no. Things were moving; figures were appearing before her and Levi hugged at her midsection to help keep herself in a stand. Tail coiling against the ground, the tatzel kept watch on what was occuring even though she felt as though she'd fall over right there and then. A ceremony of a sort? What was...
Weren't her hands wrapped around her? Why did it feel like... she was still moving forward? Involuntary pulls at all parts of her body began to make Levi believe this might be the last thing she ever saw. The gylphs in the center were reeling her very FEAR in. Had this been a terrible idea? Oh Jack...
((words:497))
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keiifuu rolled 1 100-sided dice:
53
Total: 53 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 6:59 pm
??? ORP 41 - 60: As the room's Fear overwhelms you, you see strange flickers of images: Four Clans members walking into the room, a ceremony, a leading figure walking to the center of the room and -
Hunger.
He wanted to know what the ceremony was. He wanted to know why they were doing it. He wanted to see and taste and feel everything in the images, he wanted to memorize the Glyph on the floor and he wanted to know how such a raw and pure source of Fear could be here, buried under a temple like this. But he couldn't, didn't have the chance. Especially not now, crowded on all sides by damp, slick stone and painpainpain. Slowly and in pure exhaustion, the monster began to move again. Towards what might have been the entrance. Or what might not have been it at all.
word count: 215.
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keiifuu rolled 1 100-sided dice:
43
Total: 43 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 7:07 pm
??? ORP 41 - 60: As the room's Fear overwhelms you, you see strange flickers of images: Four Clans members walking into the room, a ceremony, a leading figure walking to the center of the room and -
So now he kept wrapped up tight, waiting out the images, hissing and keening and listening to the sound of no one but himself and the horrible noise all around.
word count: 200.
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keiifuu rolled 1 100-sided dice:
79
Total: 79 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 7:13 pm
??? ORP 61 - 80: Everything goes numb and for a second, and you feel good, better than you have for a while. It feels peaceful, perfect, complete. You will be part of the Clans, you will be a protector of this Clan, watching over it with your Fear, with The Fear, the essence of what you all are: a barrier, a means to guard your clan from any harm in the purest essence -
- You wake up, back in your body. Maybe you realise how close you were to disappearing entirely. Maybe it would be more terrifying if you weren't so tired.
Fallow's ears fold back, and just as he's about to think that maybe he could just lay down and sleep here, if it could even be considered sleep, there is an ebb. A sudden peace, a sudden quiet. His ears slowly fold upwards, and lifting his head, the monster hums softly, but he does not see. There is a peace now, crawling like a slow poison through his bones. And it feels uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. Uneasy and dangerous and welcoming all at once. Fallow shudders as though he's been released from chains, tension unfurling from his shoulders and draining from his skin. His eyes close, and suddenly there is nothing wrong anymore. Suddenly, everything is right.
Peaceful, perfect, complete.
There is understanding. He will be part of the clans. Protect. The word feels foreign to him, but fitting at the same time. There is no pain anymore, only an acceptance. A knowledge that he will protect the Clans, that he will watch over it with Fear. Fear in its most primal form. Pure Fear, raw Fear. Something that can guard and protect, a barrier against any harm intended for the horsemen of the Conquest Isles. And it feels nice, feels good to understand that, and he's nearly slipping nearly falling, nearly accepting it all...
No.
Fallow woke as though from a dream and wrenched himself from the ground, scrambling for purchase and only managing to fall back over on his a** this time. Panting, huffing, keening and whining all at once, he pushed his hands over his body, his arms and legs and tail and ears as though to make sure all of him was there. A new fear clawed at his belly, sinking in his veins like ice. He'd nearly lost himself, nearly disappeared entirely. And he'd done it all in a state of peace, acceptance. The Púca bent forward and howled out a syllable that drowned out the infernal buzzing for a second, perhaps two. He wanted chaos, wanted insanity, wanted to taste and touch and smell something that was not peaceful, was not sound. And he wanted to run back to the entrance and find his way out, back. But suddenly everything was crashing down on him again. His entire body felt twice as heavy, and he was so, so tired and just wanted to sleep. And that buzzing was still there, crawling like ants in his skin and on his ears. Fallow curled in on himself again, and willed it all away.
word count: 421.
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keiifuu rolled 1 100-sided dice:
5
Total: 5 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 8:15 pm
??? ORP 1-20: The Fear waves are overwhelming! You collapse on the ground, but as you look down, you swear you can see something: several symbols all glowing an angry red pointing outwards from the main runes in the center.
Fallow scowled into his forearm.
If I die here, they'd damn well better put this on my grave.
word count: 92 omg.
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keiifuu rolled 1 100-sided dice:
20
Total: 20 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 8:23 pm
And then Fallow died, the end.
word count: billions.
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keiifuu rolled 1 100-sided dice:
15
Total: 15 (1-100)
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 8:36 pm
But not really. Just a little. Maybe.
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