When Ignatius glanced in the direction of the mirror, his eyes accidentally locked onto it, just long enough to entrance him.
It was hypnotizing. For a precious few moments, Ignatius was unable to pull his eyes away, looking into the mirror and all the little flecks and facets that seemed to shift with the shadows.
That was, until he saw something himself.
He was alone. His hair was longer and knotted, like he hadn't given it proper care in months. There was dried blood on his lips and on his hands, and scars in places he had never thought he would have scars. They were over his eyes, over his nose, near his chest and all over his hands. He was thin, and his steps were slow at best.
The sky was still dark, and the land was desolate. There was very little left, decayed buildings and rubble the only ups on the landscape. As far as he could see, there was nothing.
Nothing but the horsemen, anyway, who were charging towards him. He was not sure if they were aiming for him, really, but they were coming in his direction quickly enough. A smile formed on Ignatius' face, revealing missing teeth and gums harmed by lack of care. Slowly, he managed to shift his position, standing dead center of where the horsemen were headed.
There was no one left but himself, here, and Ignatius welcomed their presence with open arms, spreading them out wide and watching the horsemen charge forward. It was only seconds before the horsemen arrived, trampling him with their horses and leaving him to die a bloody mess on the ground.
The visions in the mirror faded, leaving Ignatius breathless and uncomfortable at best.
No.
Never.
He chose to bury the sidhe magic down, turning his attention back towards the four knight apprentices he stood with.
OOC
My character's name: Yildirim Ignatius Svarog Character's journal link: [Here] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERIgnatius is surprisingly pale for all the time he spends outside, perhaps the only obvious reaction to his outdoors presence being an abundance of freckles peppering him from top to bottom. His hair is red and kept to his shoulders, usually down and free-moving like much of what he wears. He tends towards light armour, mostly to keep him moving fast--both to chuck his weapon and quickly retrieve it for a fast finishing blow. Rank of character 1d4
Posted: Wed May 13, 2015 4:51 pm
He finds the mirror amazing, potentially world-saving, just up to the moment in which he doesn't anymore.
Heart fluttering, eyes bright and expression fascinated, onlookers can see the exact moment the images in its surface go from a simple silvered surface to something else, for Julian. The brightness in his eyes dims, slowly, and his mouth goes slack.
And it's not a nice vision, that's for certain.
All at once, Julian is transported from the heart of the great fortress to stampeding across the countryside. He is astride a horse, but not in the same, awkward way he was on his questing. Instead, he is astride it in a confident and familiar way, driving the beast forward with a hard kick of heels into its flank, half-turning in place to look back over his shoulder to the rest of his party. All of them wildly-dressed and fierce eyed, looking at the lot of them makes him grin back, voice raised in a wild, familiar cry: challenging and excited.
This is a raid, and he's not the one leading it, but he's gleefully taking a part of it, racing in with fire at hand and weapon drawn to challenge the local townsfolk and tear their home to shreds. He is one of the monsters savaging the countryside, and he is only too glad to claim the name as his own. A horseman, destroying what the humans have built. A bearer of chaos and destruction.
He comes out of it again with a shaky sort of breath, half-turning in place to view the scene around him -- and now no longer quite so enamored with the artifact before them. His eyes settle blankly on Ezekiel and then all at once he kicks into motion to see what can be done, or if it's too late. This feels like a prophecy, and he is one of those who has brought it about...
OOC
My character's name: Julian "Ever" Ambrodiel Character's journal link:Journal BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Slim, slight, tall, gawky and awkward, with a sloppy shock of pale hair, he is not an intimidating figure and perhaps a strange choice for a Knight. His preference would have been something more scholarly, somewhere he could keep his head down and bite a tongue that has a tendency to get him in trouble, especially with his betters. Rank of character Apprentice-Knight. Sacred Points obtained: ???/100
Chel's hand is slipping under his shirt. She's untying the lace that collars it shut, and it's hot, it's hot.
"Be quick."
"Y'don't get to decide that."
She's slipping it in between here and the stables. It's crude and it's hardly fitting for a lady, but Chel's no lady. Well she is, but that's besides the point.
She wishes it didn't have to be out in the woods like this. She misses the road, she misses taverns and god does she miss a good bar wench. Most of all she misses her cousin, but he's been dead in the ground for five years now. They executed him for treason; a show of power for none but her, the first in line, heir of her name. She doesn't know why she's living without him. Maybe for these moments in the woods. Maybe out of sheer spite.
"Won't your husband-"
"My husband's not here."
She spat the word the same way people used to spit whore at her (still do, behind her back, she knows. She embraces it actually; likes it). "Neither-" Lips taper the sentence shorter. "are my." The neck now. "Children." She has two of them actually, each one more blonde and uglier than the last. She hates them. One of them looks like him. They remind her of the road.
Chel's life is so very perfect. She has a doting husband, a bit on the side. She has two children; the girl is growing up to be a wonderful heir and the boy adores her; there's no signs of devious mutiny the family is so well known for (the Axtens have been all but excommunicated). He's bright too, so very bright. Even the Craft bickering and infighting has all but stalled, not thanks to the Hawthorn fortune.
(His dowry was much too large, they snicker. Stupid boy in love insisted on more than she was worth, they snicker.)
Chel's life is so perfect that one day she hangs herself from the rafters. It's very public, and it's very dishonorable considering she is in nothing but her undergarments. She thought that touch rather funny.
Posted: Wed May 13, 2015 5:07 pm
[ Ridon ]
He should have stayed in the Great Hall. He should have stayed safe. All thie commotion, all this chaos. And for what? A stupid mirror. A stupid mirror and a stupid gate. He found himself there, as the Great Knights fought and fell. He crept along the edge, being small as possible, and made to hide behind the gated mirror. His foot slipped and he tumbled into the depression. There was a crack as his head tapped the mirror and he looked up at it.
It was shifting and entrancing, and it held his attention for far, far too long. The ever shifting empty blackness of the mirror shifted until his reflection was shown back at him.
It was simple really, his own death. In a morbid sense, Ridon had always been at home with his own death. After all, he was a knight apprentice and he was bound to give his life when asked for it. The idea of death did not scare him, nor did it worry him. It was, as most things, envitable. He was not the most confident young man, but he at least understood his own mortality.
A black hand jutted out from his chest, a still beating red heart in it's palm. There was a flicker of a barn, perhaps, or a hovel, with scattered straw. The world burned around them, and he watched his heart be crushed.
The vision faded and Ridon sank back onto his behind. Something tugged at his mind, that there was something wrong about that image, but if that was the way he was to die...
So be it.
If he was to fall to horseman hands protecting Camelot, than the knight apprentice of Mordred decided he could live with that. As long as he held onto hope that he might survive, that others might survive, then why did it matter how he died in the end.
Ridon turned and watched as the three Great Knights turned on each other, and he fled the room as fast as humanly possible. There were still sick people to heal out there.
OOC
My character's name: Ridon Character's journal link:[ x ] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Ridon is a small boy, with pale skin and fine blonde hair. Light blue eyes sit in a sort of hollow face, and his cloths seem too big for his body. Rank of character Knight Apprentice
HERE YOU SHOULD QUOTE ANYONE YOU ARE TALKING TO
QUOTE MORE PEOPLE IF YOU ARE TALKING OT THEM
a-disgruntled-dragon
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Beejoux
Wrathful Demigod
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Posted: Wed May 13, 2015 5:29 pm
[tw - whoops, gotta little gory]
The sense of foreboding was growing stronger, but with it came the inability to look anywhere but the reflective silver surface of the mirror. He tried, shutting his eyes against the image and turning his head, but it called, and it lured, and his attention was always pulled back to it. Like a moth to a flame. The heat was there, it was real and it was dangerous, but that didn't make it any less inciting.
It would, however, make what it showed him worse. There was no escaping this. It was like a dream he couldn't wake from.
Here, in the treasure room, but the battle that raged around them was larger, bloodier. Horsemen had breached the castle, and they were spreading though it's walls like a cancer. It hadn't taken long from the initial shouted alarm, only a matter of minutes, then the wildling horde was upon them. Brutal and more experienced, they claimed the upper hand early on, and one after another, all around them, their comrades in arms began to fall.
At some point in the battle he'd lost track of Julian as he fought for his life, but he searched now as the foe he'd been facing finally fell to it's knees. Battered, bleeding, it'd been a near thing, but Ezekiel had managed to win. He was breathing heavily as he wheeled around, searching the glittering room for the familiar blaze of white hair, then spotted it on the other side of the room. Backed into a corner, he was fending off a spear wielding woman in black. Surviving, so far, but from the looks of it it might have been more luck than skill. Jaw set, Ezekiel fell into a run, weaving through the battling armies, watching on as the staff in Ever's hand is knocked away, the man falling to his knees, and the spear rises...
It pierces him low in the chest, because she'd been aiming for someone on their knees. It takes Ezekiel low, nicking the heart, piercing a lung. There's a startled look on his face, as if he hadn't known, hadn't imagined, doing this. His single eye dips to the spear in his chest, following it up to the woman holding it before he coughs, blood running over his lips and down his chin, guggling in his throat.
It's a killing blow, he knows that, even now. There will be no coming back this time. No medical aid Julian can provide that would make this all better.
And because he's already damned the choice is easy. A smile strains against crimson stained lips as he grabs a hold of the spear, holding it in place so she can draw it out, even leans into it, forcing it deeper. Farther and farther it sinks until the tip's visible at his back. He advances until he can reach her, and he grabs the front of her ragged clothing before she has the sense to abandon her weapon and run. Pride her undoing.
His ax buries in her gut, and now it's her turn to look surprised as she falls to her knees.
It's all going grey as he finally turns, looking back at the blonde for a long moment before staggering as darkness blots out the world.
He comes back to himself in a startled gasp, as if he hadn't been breathing, and hands snap up to his chest, feeling for a spear that's not there. Pulse racing, he stares wide eyed at the mirror before finally tearing his gaze away as Julian kicks into action beside him.
OOC
My character's name: Ezekiel Young Character's journal link:[o] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Ezekiel is the strong quiet type. He is not terribly outgoing, though he is amicable enough in social settings, albeit it witty and ironic. He is practical and analytical, meaning he is unlikely to act recklessly or take risks that do not benefit him in some significant way. On those occasions he gets someone he does show loyalty and will even work to keep them safe up to a certain point, though he is a selfish individual. On the battle field he is calculating and cold. Physically he's tall and well muscled from various tasks and labors. He has dark, auburn hair and tanned skin. One eye is green, the other, a milky white, has a scar running through it that stretches from jaw to temple. Rank of character Apprentice -Knight
HERE YOU SHOULD QUOTE ANYONE YOU ARE TALKING TO
QUOTE MORE PEOPLE IF YOU ARE TALKING OT THEM
Posted: Wed May 13, 2015 7:45 pm
Mmur's curiosity had thoroughly paid off, in his opinion. While everyone else was up there shirking their vows and, more importantly, dying, he was below, deeper than the treasure room, staring into the depths of the beautiful mirror. He could see himself there, doing things he had never done, great things, and he sat captivated, watching The Mmur Show like it was grand theater.
He didn't notice it at first when the images began to sour. When he drowned a kitten because it wasn't the right shade of orange and calmly cut off an infant's arm for less. Mmur shook his head, his brow furrowing when his grinning reflection gathered a group of widows, scooped out the left eye of each and fed it to the next down the line until they were all weeping blood.
This was wrong. Or maybe it wasn't. He was the darkness. A horseman. He was mayhem and chaos, a force that sundered worlds and forced lesser beings to their knees. He was what the humans were afraid of. And as the minutes passed, he thought he might grow to... no, he did enjoy it.
He let himself smile, pressing his hand to the sickly glass. As horrific as he knew it was, Mmur was mesmerized.
Quote:
My character's name: Mmur Character's journal link:x BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Dark brown hair, medium brown skin, blue eyes, skinny, 5'10", flail, helmet with an orange tree carved into it, toucan leggings, shoulder armor covered with small red gems, bright red mantle with yellow detailing, orange gauntlets, orange tabard tied around his waist, no shirt or shoes. Can't read. Rank of character Knight-Apprentice Sacred Points obtained: 0/100
Makayla was surprised when she found herself dropped below, wishing now she just stayed where she was. But no, she had to join the others, and now she couldn't take her eyes off the mirror. She didn't understand why she was so compelled to stare into it, until she saw herself. She was happy, only now there was another figure beside her, one she couldn't see well. She was holding a child in her arms, humming softly to the little girl as she looks up at her.
She had everything she wanted....
A small whimper comes from the child as she suddenly saw herself drop to her knees, holding the baby in her arms as she tries to shield it. Around her the home she was consumed with flames. She held the child close even as a pool of blood forms around herself. The horseman having just tossed the head of her husband at her. Green hair caked with blood, and she screamed turning her body away from the horseman as it brings is blade down, cutting right through her.
She was losing vision as it blurs.
All she could hear was a soft crying.....
Crying
Her child, their child.
She would never know who they were.
Her eyes slipping close as she hid the child, knowing soon they would all be together again.
Gasping, Makayla backs away from the mirror as her heart pounds inside her chest. Her eyes darting around the area as she tries to figure out what just happened to her. Her hands covering her mouth to stop herself from becoming ill as the tears ran down her face for a brief moment.
Turning away from the mirror, she didn't look back as she gets up and runs.
She didn't understand what she seen, she just honesty hoped that it didn't become her actual reality.
She didn't want this vision to come to pass.
OOC
My character's name: Makayla Winston Character's journal link:X BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER With long flowing black hair down to her waist, it is often up in two braids that is wrapped then fastened on either side of her head. Her bangs are left alone to fall around her face. With pale skin, her green eyes seem almost darker because of how tan skin she is. Rank of character apprentice-knights Sacred Points obtained: ???/100
Posted: Wed May 13, 2015 10:44 pm
Camilla was quite thankful she had run into that kind Knight! Telling her what exactly her weapon was and showing her a few basic poses and strikes had been really nice of him! It was with a happy excited smile that she returns to the Treasure Room however the moment she gets there her smile fades... Madness... it was all simply madness... Knight attacking Knight Great Knight against the other... She would not indulge in this madness... She could only imagine the look of disappointment on the Great Galahad's face if she did and it was that one image that made her shiver and skitter around the fighting! She was only here to find Shayne and had no desire to beat up on other knights...
Unfortunately... No matter where she looked she couldn't find the red haired boy... Finally she came to the conclusion that he wasn't here... which in some ways made her happy she didn't want him getting mixed up in all this craziness! Camilla was about to leave when she glanced at the mirror and gate as she does she gasps in surprise as she realizes that the two had fused together and broken through the floor to the floor below! "Whoa what the!?" she exclaims then moves over to it fueled by curiosity silently she perches herself on a small mound of gold then leans over to look in the hole "Wow!" she says excitedly in awe and moves sharply to get in a better viewing position unfortunately...
When would she learn that excitable people should not stand on shiftable mountains? Suddenly the gold she had been standing on begins to shift due to her sudden movement and before Camilla could even react she was sliding! "Eeeek!" She squeaks in probably her most unknightly squeak yet! She flails trying desperately to regain her balance or grab something but it was for naught! She and the gold slid right down into the hole!
Thud!
"Ooof!" luckily the gold that had fallen before her had acted as a cushion of sorts but gold was not feathers... "Owie..." she mumbles before slowly lifting herself up into a seated position a bit of a blush coloring her cheeks as she does "That was embarrassing..." she says lowly to herself before looking at the mirror gate as she does however her eyes widen in surprise! The mirror and gate hadn't just fused! They had crystalized! As she looked on she found that she couldn't tear her eyes off the many facets that now made up the mirror... They were so beautiful they were almost... hypnotic... wait... Suddenly she felt her mind going numb and realized that the facets were in fact hypnotic! But it was too late... Before she could really put any effort into looking away everything goes dark!
Betrayal... That word rang loudly in her mind as pain and the sticky wetness of blood came to her attention... Where... Wait! Her eyes snap open to see a horrific sight! A mountain of a man with a massive axe loomed over her! He was fully armored and his face was shadowed by chainmail! Behind him looming in the back were various Knights of various factions all with serious expressions shouting things like "Kill her!" And "We must stop the corruption before it spreads!" Corruption?! Wha? Next to her lie her weapon Buyou Rouzu... It was shattered and felt lifeless... "No..." she choked out nearby were other knights long sense slain and she would be next if she didn't do something! She tries to get up but cries out in pain as her body from her shoulder to her hip throbs! The cut was shallow but the blood lost and pain were the hindering factor! The armored man laughs at her feeble attempt to get up before raising his axe high above his head Camilla tries to scooch away to get up but she could and she can only watch in horror as the axe comes towards her!
Suddenly all is dark for a long moment... No sounds could be heard anywhere... Until suddenly the vision shifts... It was distant at first but became louder as the vision took better hold of her... screeches... wails... the familiar heart rending cries of dying knights... metal on metal... and then... silence... Finally the vision settles and a smell... no many smells... hit her full on! Smoke... Blood... Death... all so thickly cloud the air that she can't breath! It chokes her! Trying to strangle the life from her! She opens her eyes in a panick and what she see's chills her to her core! Death is all around her! Blood, bodies, and destruction... In the distance lies Camelot... ruined... Smoke curling thickly from it's broken corpse... And then she feels it! The pain the sticky blood now dried thick! She had escaped the axe! But now... She seemed to be all that was left... Finally she notices... There was someone lying limply in her arms... tentatively she looks down and a look of horror soon paints her face! It was Shayne! He was bloodied and mangled! "No! No no no! Shayne!" she cries out as tears begin to pour from her eyes "No Shayne no! I never even got to remember you! To discover how I know you!" she wails agonizingly before clutching his corpse tighter to her!
Rikku Takanashi
Friendly Guardian
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Rikku Takanashi
Friendly Guardian
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Posted: Wed May 13, 2015 11:23 pm
(Hit my char limit have to finish this in another post will merge the two someday)
With eyes shut tight her tears mixes with his blood silently as she sobs in pain both physical and emotional... How... how had all this happened...? What role had she played in this? "How badly did I fail to protect people!?" She suddely yells out angrily however that was a big mistake! Before she could lament further a wicked heart stopping growl sounds nearby "Wha-!?" she gasps as she see's a large shadowling in the form of a wolf stalk towards her their dark bloodied fangs and wicked eyes freezing her in place! She was done... Her weapons were broken, Camelot had fallen, and all were gone! Hungry eyes watch her teary dishearted expression with wicked delight before silently stalking closer... This was it... This was the end! Finally the wolf was done toying it lunges fangs bared "No!" she yells as she curls around her friends corpse and shuts her eyes tightly waiting for the inevitable pain that was sure to follow!
But it never came... Finally at long last the vision releases her and all is quiet...
The quiet didn't last long however as soon the sounds of combat come to her attention! She flinches fearing she was still in the vision but as the darkness clears she finds herself staring at the crystalized mirror gate once more... She was still seated just as she was before the vision only now... She was shaking! Quiet violently in fact she was also sweating as well! Slowly she lets her head fall forcing her eyes to stare at the gold on the floor instead of the mirror with a shaken and slightly horrified look on her face "Wha- what... was that...?" she chokes out finally when she had gotten herself to stop shaking quiet so violently... "Wa- was that a vision... O- of things to c- come...?" she asks herself in a low whisper she was shaking so badly still that she was stuttering now... Finally she straightens up having been supporting herself with her arms one hand goes to her now upset stomach and another to her forehead "No... That wasn't a vision... It was a Nightmare!" She exclaims as she finally gathers enough of her senses together to proccess the vision
Eventually she gathers her wits together enough to stand up it was shaky but when she was standing straight she looks at the mirror gate with a serious determined expression "I won't let that vision- That Nightmare! Come to pass!" she exclaims before whirling away from the mirror to try and find a way out of the hole
Posted: Thu May 14, 2015 10:53 pm
The plunge caught him by surprise. He had been too focused on the raging battle between the three knights to see the fissure creep up beneath him. The fall was surprisingly short, though; he was merely staggered when he found his feet beneath him again.
Turning, Jack found himself face to face with the mirror. An edge of animal instinct, that which guarded even the laziest humans, pricked the hairs on the back of his neck. He was as much fascinated with the magical object as he was leery of being in its presence: what he wouldn't give to be away from the battlefield, able to study it without interruption and with the proper protection...It was a weapon of the sidhe, yes, but think of what they could learn from it!
Entranced, he stared into the mirror and saw himself. Not himself. Every bit as tall, as sharp eyed, and as swathed in armor, yes, but there were no symbols of the green stag or of his pledge to the Great King and Gawain. Instead he saw himself as a savage: war torn, bloodied, wild hair askew and eyes wide with dark delight, teeth in a shark's grin. Curious, Jack twitched an arm up; the reflection didn't follow. Rather, he watched as the vision panned out into a desolate world painted red by the corpses piling on the ground. The castle had been taken: stone walls had been broken apart, war machines destroyed, homes burned to the ground, screeches still echoing across the battlefield. He watched himself trail after a half alive knight, toying with them with wordless taunts and prods of his arrow before finally running it through one of their eye sockets. And then the image faded, leaving him slightly breathless.
If the point was to fill him with dread, it was far too late for that; Jack had plenty of the emotion filling the linings of his chest and stomach. Rather, he had to ask himself if that was merely an illusion of the mirror, a means to evoke fear in the sidhe's enemies...or if that was somehow his true form?
He showed no reflection now. None of them did. Whether that was an omen or another trick, only time would tell.
medigel
Anxious Spirit
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Luridel
Loyal Gatekeeper
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Posted: Fri May 15, 2015 2:42 pm
Estel froze as her eyes locked onto the surface of the mirror. She saw...
There, just ahead, the gates of Camelot. She was nearly there - she was walking as quickly as she can. The sky was a deep, churning black, and the lantern in her hand flickered. Her horse was gone. She was on foot. Alone.
Almost there... and then she would be safe. Her reflection stumbled as it walked along, clutching at her chest. Was she injured...?
The shadowlings were right behind her, they were chasing her, they had... they had dragged someone off of the road. Estel's reflection broke into a run. Something bit into her ankle, and she stumbled, hitting it with her lantern and dropping it in the process. Her light went out - but there, up on the ramparts, the lights were burning.
And then the gates shut. Estel's reflection was pulled backwards, away, into a mess of churning blackness. Estel watched, stricken, as the shadowlings tore her body to pieces. And then, only then, did the knights on the ramparts fire the ballistae. The surface of the mirror filled with smoke and flames as the knights threw things down from the walls, driving the shadowlings off.
She was nothing to them. Just one of many. It made no difference whether she was inside or not. No one cared about her. No one would notice when she was gone. She was completely insignificant.
Estel managed to tear her eyes away from the mirror. She covered her face with both hands, trembling. It wasn't real... just sidhe magic, playing on her fears. It wasn't a prediction of her future. Right?
She couldn't afford to let herself be captivated by the mirror any longer. Taking a deep breath, Estel tried to focus on what she had missed between Gawain, Morgan, and Percival.
Posted: Fri May 15, 2015 10:57 pm
Dong Shu Lei
(This is illusion combining Shu's mindset, so might be diverted slightly from the real horseman setting)
They accused her for not being subtle and paying respect to the death. She smiled sweetly, didn't care the bloods on her flawless innocent face as she hugged a broken arm tighter. "It's my gift, it's mine." The bloods painted her black armors like blooming flowers to match with her smile. She enjoyed the warmness of humans, but it lost too fast. Same as this man's arm turning rigid and cold in her bosom, she cut it from an unyielding handsome human. She liked him, for the hatred written on his face - to her when she slaughtered her family with her Chakram. Small and bigger heads spun like mini helicopters, showering the sole man and her. He tried to attack her but fruitless, their strengths was such a big contrast. He was adorable and she blushed for him.
Who said they didn't have feelings? She would be delighted and amused by the weak humans, especially those knights who made feeble attempts against them. She enjoyed letting them hope, let them hurt her a bit before completely demolished it. After all, despair and fear were their-her favourite. Many years, she was bored in sieges. They screamed, they ran and begged but they rarely fight back. Thus, torturing unyielding knights would be her most favourite to do in an invasion.
She threw away the arm like it was nothing, even she was holding it so dearly. Horseman's nature was simply merciless and evil. She was a loner while the others moved in groups, she tried to fit in but when she realized she couldn't never get someone to put her in the first place, she gave up. Human couple or lovers - she liked to capture them by giving some small wounds, likes cutting slow and gentle along the arm or leg and then chinhanded to wait for them to kill each other. She always said: If one of you dies, I'll let the other go. Humans were stupid, they believed and killed their partners, seeing them die in horror, betrayal and disbelief. Their expressions were the best entertainment.
She never grant her promise, the remaining had to die too. She caught another couple again and they were the blue knights from Camelot. The last sanctuary for the human. They looked adorable, fought to protect each other even they were on the last straw. When she brought her game rule again, she was slightly amazed by their reactions, both took their weapon blades to put on their most vulnerable body part to kill themselves. She silently watched the stalemate as the man won and stabbed his weapon through his body on his heart. He fell down and bloods gushed out into a pool. The female knight flopped onto him, calling his name repeatedly, begging him not to die. Her tears used up, his bloods too. The raven hair horseman stood up, strolled towards the surviving knight in graceful and light gait. "Congratulations, you win." She reacted in a malicious glare, lips bleed because of the bite, the color looked much more enthralling. She kissed her and tasted her blood, hurt by her weapon. Her crazed look for the loss of another half was beautiful but she was a weak human, alas. The cat fight didn't last long as she squeezed on her thin neck with a lovely curve, the hand holding the weapon dropped, giving a loud clank -
"NoooooOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooo!" She screamed out of her lungs, she was back after peeking the wicked satisfied smile on her face.
It was her.
It was her but not her.
The mirror only reflected a shocked face of a raven hair knight when she mustered up to look at it again, it didn't smile back, it was her.
She shouldn't have gotten so close to the edge. When she fell, she fell hard, and the pain sung up her entire spine, until she saw stars behind her closed eyelids. Riley laid there and let the pain ebb before she even considered getting up, but when she did, all she could see was that edge of the mirror that had caused the hole in the first place, extended out sharply towards her. It looked sharp enough to kill, and yet even this sliver was still so big that she was able to crawl over to see her entire self in it's reflection. There was something there, distant and hard to see, but when she moved, it moved as well. When she breathed, it too breathed. And when she tried to reach out to it, she realized with a start that the mirror itself was gone, as was everything around her. Another world existed in it's place, despite the hazy edges and the dark, sinister shadows looming sharply below everything that moved.
The problem was, nothing moved.
They'd failed, hadn't they? The world was a quiet and dead place, where nothing grew and no one lived. She walked on dead ground, and she couldn't even see the hint of where life might have existed at one time. Everything had been washed away by the dust and wind of time. She was alone in a dead world, and solitude was usually such a welcome friend of hers.
But not this time.
Her body crumbled down to the ground, to kneel there in what sounded like a maddening void of silence. There was no peace to be had in a world where there was no one else left to save. There was no peace in this silence. Only madness.
She could feel her sanity stretching thin already. It would be quick, the snap. Quick, and then she wouldn't be alone anymore. The voices would surely come when she needed them.
Just before her mind truly did snap, her eyes opened to find herself staring into that mirror again. She scrambled away from it, and covered her ears as the flood of sound filled her mind once more. Despite how desperate she was for others in that nightmare, she was just as inclined to hate the sound of fighting and screaming in the battle that waged around her now. She could not find solace in either extreme.
OOC
My character's name: Riley Illithadian Character's journal link:ok BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Tall, slender, graceful, and entirely obsessed with purity; Riley was raised from birth as a priestess of the light, and continues to follow the values and practices of her stringent sisterhood. She is always prepared with a ritual or a prayer to help purify anything necessary, especially the air and water surrounding them, or the earth beneath their feet. She does not like being touched, or looked at for very long, nor will she meet the gaze of a passerby for longer than is absolutely necessary. She is meek, humble, and completely unprepared for what lies ahead of her. Physical Description:CLICK HERE She wears an unadorned white medieval dress, and a belt of large, extremely heavy prayer beads as a constant burden to remind her of her duty. Her face is partially covered by a modesty veil, which hangs at the lower half of her face. Her eyes are grey, and her hair is black, with only the top layer matted into tight dreadlocks using beeswax - these are carefully wrapped and braided with purple and white ribbons. See this picture for an example of this hairstyle. Intricate filigree of some metal slips in and out of the top of her hair, weaving upward into delicate designs created with special religious significance in mind. Rank of character knight
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Dong Shu Lei
